#i have so many other ideas for this universe and so little time to properly write

[bensonsknuckles]

a list of moments and character details from the unfinished ranson groupie au that i’ve been thinking about since december:

- randy wants to look cool and tough to fit in with the crowds at benson’s shows and impress him, so he pierces his ears and paints his nails black before a gig. benson laughs in his face but probably enjoys getting to pull at the earrings with his teeth.

- on a similar note, randy has been promising himself since he started listening to benson’s music as a teenager that if he ever gets to meet benson he’ll have him sign randy’s bare skin and get the autograph tattooed (he does not know the word parasocial). benson hates the idea but it does spark a possessive urge in him and, once they start hooking up, he convinces randy to just let him mark him up constantly instead. the bruises fade but they can always be replaced.

- benson is still his violent, undone self, only somewhat mitigated by a consistent outlet for his anger and not having to work in customer service for minimum wage. the easy early access to drugs, the demands of his career, and the crushing weight of expectation from others (something canon benson has no taste of) just push him over the edge in other ways. he flies between long bouts of depressed withdrawal from the world and manic episodes where he’s reckless with his own wellbeing to the point of self harm, ODing in the back of tour buses or speeding drunk through the streets of various cities. if he’s a big enough artist to get papped, he definitely has assault charges for attacking paparazzi, and if not he’s probably at least beaten unsavoury members of his crowds to a bloody pulp before. he makes angry loud music that fans mosh to, but the idea of being in the pit himself makes him want to vomit. he does not like fan interactions.

- randy is a highkey stalker hellbent on finding out everything he can about benson’s life and background. I think the kicker would be that they do still come from the same sad shit town; maybe benson even briefly worked at burgers during his teens/early 20s before his career took off, and maybe that’s why randy works there, copping abuse from chris and customers daily but just desperate enough to take what echoes of benson he can get that he sticks it out.

- at first, when his career started blowing up, benson sent every cent home to his ma as a sort of apology for being gone for work all the time, for being him. he paid off her medical debt, bought her a nice new house in a better area, thought about the ways he could make her finally happy, finally proud. she didn’t move in, claimed she had everything she needed already, and what was she gonna do with all that space to herself when he never has time to visit anyway? in the end, the house sits pristine and empty while benson’s childhood home falls apart around her. he can’t bring himself to sell it. he’s not sure she’s ever listened to one of his songs.

[thewisecheerio]

Messmer's Insignia

This is Messmer's insignia, stamped all over his Keep, as well as his soldiers' shields and tents. This post is going to be a canon-compliant lore analysis, meaning that not all of this will be explicitly mentioned in canon but will attempt to be compliant with what we do know explicitly.

There are a few important elements coming together to make the insignia: 1. The left-hand flame 2. The right-hand woven ring 3. The outer ring 4. The overlaid, central spear

I'd like to pick these apart in the same way you might pick apart a heraldic coat of arms to look at what each piece might mean individually, as well as what the placement of some elements relative to others might symbolize.

The Left-Hand Flame

Along with the horizontal panel of flames, this is obviously symbolic of Messmer's flame. However, I do want to note that you can absolutely see a cute little winged serpent shape hidden in the flame's design with its head on the right, its tail on the left, and the central portion of the flame forming a wing. (Or maybe it's a dragon. Or maybe I need to seek help for my advanced brainrot, which is causing me to see things. You decide!) Given that Messmer's Phase 1 design—and his public persona—is a mixture of flame and specifically winged serpents, this seems an apt way to capture both ideas in one. A bit on the nose maybe, but hey, his day job is genocide, not graphic design (insert obligatory gRaPhIc dEsIgN iS mY pAsSiOn here).

The Right-Hand Ring

Many people have connected this to Marika's circlet, which I'm not sure I see. Her circlet is a lot more angularly braided, rather than the smooth coil shown here. Plus, I think that Marika's circlet is supposed to be similar to Miquella's Circlet of Light, in that it signifies a (fully) divine aspect of the wearer—something Messmer assuredly is not, since he is a demigod without grace (or, at least, with only the artificial grace bestowed by Marika's seal alone). But either way, none of what I'm about to say contradicts this interpretation, and you can have both be true at the same time.

Rather, I think a different interpretation might be that this is intertwined serpents, similar to the shape his own winged serpents make as they coil around his body. The winged serpent is typically a symbol of Caduceus in alchemical lore, of which Elden Ring is rife. The Caduceus is explicitly two intertwined snakes topped with wings. So that seems like the most straightforward interpretation for what this might be a nod to.

To learn more about Caduceus's role in alchemy, I highly recommend the two videos linked below by Max Derrat and Smoughtown. But the short of it is that the binding ritual that produces a rebis—a divine, single (merged) soul of masculine and feminine energies (e.g. Marika/Radagon)—requires some sort of binding material to happen properly. In alchemical lore, this binding material is the "prima materia", or the formless base of all matter in the universe associated with chaos and the void. The material is often referred to as Mercurius, named for the god Mercury who carries a Caduceus staff. Thus, we end up with binding/prima materia = Mercurius = Caduceus = 2 intertwined serpents.

(Side note: This is also an EXCELLENT reason to believe that Messmer is the son of Marika and Radagon. The White Queen and Red King of alchemy are often shown with the Caduceus between them, which would seem to fit well with the idea of Marika and Radagon having a child between them that is associated with dual serpents.)

I also think there is a connection to the (singular) base serpent by way of the alchemical Caduceus, however. Besides the prima materia/uniting matter, Caduceus is also often used as a symbol of duality. Namely, it is a symbol of the tension between "higher" and "base" desires, with the former being associated with wisdom and the latter being associated with chaos. We absolutely see this in Messmer's lore, as we learn from the Winged Serpent Helm that his winged serpents act as wise friends that keep his base serpent in check. As such, the duality of the Caduceus may also represent the duality of the winged and base serpents. So this coiled symbol involving two snakes might also represent the singular base serpent indirectly, making it function like an image-based palimpsest. When we peel back the layers of one, we find evidence of the other.

The Outer Ring

I mostly think this is just meant to be a uniting graphical element. However, it is cute that it kind of evokes the imagery of a Great Rune, all of which are rings. Messmer does not have a Great Rune, as he did not participate in the shattering. So instead of an actual Great Rune, he ends up with this imitation insignia instead. Adorable. Maybe this is why his otherwise heraldic-looking insignia was designed as a circle instead of the more classical forms that heraldic coats-of-arms tend to take.

The Central Spear

In the center of the insignia, we get a spear wrapped with a singular(?) serpent. The question mark is there because we do not actually see the serpent tail, so you would be reasonable to question whether this is truly a singular serpent, or something like an unending ouroboros. (Or, you know, both.) I'm going to go forward with the assumption that this is a singular serpent. Cutely, the head of the spear forms the serpent's head.

Obviously, the most straightforward part is that the spear is Messmer's spear, the Spear of the Impaler. I find it highly apt that the spear *overlays* the other elements of the insignia, almost dominating them. War is definitely the thing Messmer is most publicly known for, as a myriad of NPCs—both spirit and corporeal—curse him for the honorless war that he has wrought without mentioning much else about him. Meanwhile, his internal relationship with his flame and serpentine nature is something really only known privately. After all, the Fire Knight set tells us that it was only those few knights under his personal command that knew the truth of how he felt regarding his flame and his serpentine nature.

Armor of the Fire Knights under Messmer the Impaler's personal command. Distinguished by its red cape and twin golden snakes which adorn the neck, enhancing incantations of Messmer's flame. These were the only ones who truly knew Messmer. His flames, like serpents. The painful fate that accompanied his accursed form.

Building on this, the dominating nature of this graphical element is important in another way. The flame and other serpent imagery seems to be something intrinsic to Messmer: he was born with a serpentine nature, and was either born with or cursed with flame very early in his existence, too. Meanwhile, war is something that was *imposed upon him* as a request by his mother, as we learn from his armor set. He doesn't do genocide just because he enjoys fighting like Godfrey or Radahn; rather, he does it on behalf of Marika and ends up pretty sad, tired, and self-hating because of it. In this way, warfare ends up as an intrusive element in his life, similar to the way the spear almost seems to be a dominating, nearly intrusive element in the insignia's design.

The serpent coiled around the spear is also really interesting, because it appears to be a singular serpent in contrast to the dual coil on the right. The most straightforward interpretation is that this is a nod to his hidden inner nature as the (singular) base serpent.

Given what we learned above about the Caduceus itself symbolizing a tension between higher and base desires—and repeated in Messmer's story as tension between the wise winged serpents and base serpent—I find it apt that the snake more associated with base desires is the one wrapped around the tool of war. I enjoy the link between warfare and base desires, as it ties into Elden Ring's overall themes around cycles of violence, explicitly characterizing the desire for violence and war as base.

The Central Spear: An Alternative Interpretation

This next bit is unhinged brainrot territory and what I think is a weaker interpretation of the spear symbolism than the above, so be warned. But I also think something interesting can be said if you look at this as a nod to the Rod of Asclepius. Asclepius is the god of healing and medicine, and the Rod of Asclepius (containing a single serpent wrapped around it) is often used as a symbol of medicine both in real life hospitals as well as in alchemical lore. Messmer's most obvious connection to medicine is Marika, as the Blessing of Marika and Remembrance of the Impaler items tell us that she attempted to heal him before finally gouging out his eye to seal the base serpent away instead.

So if this is a nod to his mother's attempts to heal him, two things are true. First, this is an adorable nod to mom from Elden Ring's biggest momma's boy. Second, one might also read into it that these attempts to heal him of something he was naturally born with—and isn't intrinsically evil in and of itself, as far as I can tell—were actually intrusive.

Certainly from Marika's perspective, she worried that others would judge Messmer for his serpentine nature. In some sense, she was right, as Messmer's followers (like Black Knight Andreas) specifically rebelled against him after learning of it. But if your child is disabled or otherwise different in some way and people will judge them for it, is that actually a reason to seek a cure rather than an accommodation, especially if the cure comes with other costs? The answer is complex and varies by individual, of course. But in Messmer's case, we see signs of self-hatred and even neglect as a result of being taught that the base serpent is intrinsically evil. For evidence of this, see the linked post about how there are bits of shed skin on the base serpent, which is a symptom of neglect for snakes!

If Marika's cure resulted in self-hatred and neglect of a critical aspect of his being, can it really be said to be medicinal? Or is it just as intrusive an element in his life as warfare seems to be? I think if you believe the latter, this could be another reason to read this part of the design as intrusive and dominating over the other elements in the insignia that represent his natural self. That said, I think the base serpent interpretation is the more lore-accurate one, but it's fun to think about what it might mean as a symbol of Marika's attempted healing, anyway!

To Sum Up...

So overall while the design is maybe a slightly messy conglomeration of ideas and images, I think this insignia gives us so much. We get fire imagery, winged serpent imagery, base serpent symbolism, a graphic palimpsest of the winged and base serpents and the duality of man, warfare, warfare as a base desire, maybe a cute nod to Great Runes, and maybe even a cute nod to Momma and her attempts to heal. In this way, I think it functions in the same way as coats of arms do in heraldic design: they can also be pretty graphically messy, but it's on purpose to fit a lot of symbolism into a small space.

[boundinparchment]

The Center Will Hold

Written before the release of 3.0.

The night before Anaxa leaves to fulfill his duty as an Heir, you seek his company one final time.

(Reader is implied to be female/afab.)

Read on AO3 here. Minors DNI. Rating: Mature

The Home of Sages looked vastly different at this hour. Midday painted the columns and thick trees around the edge in a golden light, painting it to be the very image used in every poem about the Titans and their glory. A haven for scholars who sought knowledge without the stigma of heresy and doubt. At this hour, the moon bathed the Grove of Epiphany in a silver light that only enhanced the glowing stars and swirling clouds above, and laid bare the vastness of the universe. The very opposite of Castrem Kremnos, where a battlefield and ruins marred the land and reminded all of the war that never seemed to end.

This was your last chance. Come dawn, he would be gone, and fulfill his role as the Chrysos Heir.

Or so many hoped. Many considered him foolish for supporting Erudition, for spouting blasphemy against the Titans. His ideas went against every norm but no one had managed to prove Anaxagoras wrong.

And thus the faith in the Heirs still held.

You wove your way through familiar paths, mindful of your footfalls. At this hour, he was not likely to have shut himself away, even if he were desperate for sleep. The stars were too bright and destiny burned too hot for rest to take him. Instead, you headed towards the one place you knew by heart, tucked away in the depths of the Grove where you once recited poetry and bared your soul.

Cutting between a series of bushes, you arrived at your destination. Little room for more than a marble bench, the tall plants climbing towards the sky as if to kiss the stars but never obscuring their glistening glory.

You looked around. The Heart of the Grove…empty.

Before your stomach had time to sink, you felt hot breath against your neck. Hands, warm and familiar with your form, held you fast: one on your hip and the other cradling your jaw, thumb hovering over your lip.

“You should not be here.”

Anaxa stared down at you, his uncovered eye watching you closely. Despite his stern expression, you caught a flicker of mirth.

“We both know that I’m right where I need to be,” you whispered, leaning into the hand holding your cheek.

He let go of you only long enough to embrace you properly. For a man of logic and reason, he spent an exorbitant amount of time burying his nose in your hair and running his fingers over the column of your spine, as if you were a book he had not yet read and longed to. His kiss was sweet but focused, tempered like steel as his tongue met yours with as much passion as he gave during a lecture about the falsehood of the Titans.

You could do little more than tug at one another, loosen fastenings until you found searing bare skin. The grass beneath was cool, beginning to dampen with dew. Your coupling was unceremonious, familiar sensations that told you home was here, with him, and that was all that mattered.

Framed by stars, the man above you looked every bit as human as he always was. But when his hair moved just so and the light caught his dual-colored eye, whatever doubt you held for the prophecy fell away.

And in the light of the dawn, after your love-making, as you gave him one final kiss, you were certain of one thing.

No human had such raw power and brilliance, held so much love for their land, not like he did.

And no one would love you like he did.

[choccy-milky]

(SPOILER WARNING to people who haven't read your story) I SWEAR to GOD!!!! This is borderline anon-hate with my current state of mind after finishing The Raven and The Snake over this weekend. I finished it in two days. I'm a mess. I've even started making a playlist because I feel like I can't properly enter reality again. I'm supposed to be writing my bachelors thesis right now,,,, what have you done to me!!!!

I loved it so so so much, and I am very mad I cannot have a collectors edition hardback version of it on my shelf. There are many many moments that keep replaying in my head, and scenes that I saw so vividly when reading through it. The first imperio moment and Sebs shadow and imperio-green eyes as Clora was held captive, and the entire scene in the repository and how I was physically shaking as I slowly realised that Seb had made a fucking horcrux, and when it was CONFIRMED the GASP i GUSPED. It was so perfect, and so very Sebastian; because OF COURSE he made a horcrux (lowkey hot, sue me).

And the scene where Clive realised Seb straight up just died for his daughter without knowing he would be back, oh my dear lord.

And the idea of Seb being seen as a 'Ruffian' and that little mamas boi bitch of a Henry thinking his hand-me-down-riches, muggle ass would be preferable to a powerful wizard. I secretly wished they didn't have to keep magic a secret so Henry could have known just how inferior he was. AND SEB APPARATING SO FAR UMPH the skilllll.

I could go on and on and on, and maybe I will some other time in your inbox when I have another mental breakdown.

And now I'm also almost done with the small sequel. Just taking a break to bombard you with this unhinged message of mine. And how you draw Sebastian is so fucking good. It's actually what got me reading in the first place. I see your version as being in a completely separate universe from the game, cause the way you draw him just has that something, and it's not the same anywhere else. It certainly doesn't help my obsession that my own boyfriend has the same features and colour palette as him, now I think I might even use your art as inspo for next time we need wardrobe additions.

I love you and I hate you.

Ps. Of course I added Sarah Smiles to the playlist and also Far too young to Die, and Just One Yesterday. If you've any other songs you think match please let me knowww~~

BRUHHHHH I ALMOST FEEL NARCISSISTIC FOR POSTING/RESPONDING TO THIS ASK BC ITS JUST PRAISE BUT DAMN THANK YOU SO MUCH😭😭😭😭IM HAPPY YOU LIKED IT SO MUCH!! FORGET WRITING YOUR BACHELORS THESIS, TY FOR WRITING A THESIS ON WHY U LOVED MY FIC SO MUCH AND ALL THE LIL THINGS U ENJOYED BAHAHAHA (love the henry slander) im also glad u like how i draw seb too, and i love how thats what made u start reading it in the first place BAHAH but fr, sometimes i try drawing seb more accurately to his ACTUAL appearance and then im like... Who The Hell is this... and it may sound arrogant since im the artist but my seb is MY seb, yknow...its why i dont like drawing him with other mc's romantically. bc even tho its like, oh look, that's Sebastian Sallow™ from the hit game Hogwarts Legacy™! in my style if i draw him with another MC, its like, NO!!! THATS NOT SEBASTIAN SALLOW™, THATS CLORA'S HUSBAND🤺🤺THE FUCK ARE YOU DOING BOI??🤺🤺🤺 LMAOO but rly TY AGAIN💖💖💖 not only for reading but also taking the time to write all this and let me know how much you enjoyed it🥹🥹i (and all writers, really) always love getting stuff like this!! it also brings me back to when i was writing it, especially now that ive been finished with my fic for a few months, listening to u react to all the diff scenes is making me miss it and giving me nostalgia for my own damn fic FRRR😩 also i love that youre making a playlist LMAOO thats how u know the brainrot truly has a hold on you IM SO SORRY🙏🙏 i actually made a seb and clora playlist like last year and its somewhere in my ask tag if you look through that?? but one song that i can recommend off the top of my head (which i almost made their anthem in that OTP chart) is arms tonite by mother mother...whenever i listen to it i cant help but laugh to myself bc its SO perfect for the chap where seb sacrifices himself....YOULL SEE WHEN U LISTEN😇💖

[cassiebones]

Character Analysis: Rio Vidal

(because Aubrey Plaza currently has a chokehold on my psyche)

It hasn't been confirmed on the show, but we all know that Rio is Death, correct? They're not even being subtle about it, so I'm gonna take it from that angle.

Okay, so Rio is ageless. She prefers to take the form of Aubrey Plaza because Aubrey is a hot motherfucker. Agreed? Okay.

I have no idea when she would have come into existence, only because I have no idea the nature of Death in this universe. Is she one of many deaths? She must be, because people die all over and she has enough free time to build this hate/love relationship with Agatha, whom she finds the second the Darkhold stops hiding her.

I think she may specifically be Death for witches. She ferries magical humans to the other side, and has done since magic was first invented.

She was never a child, never a newborn. She was fully grown and cognizant from her inception, born knowing what her job was for her entire life. She existed in ancient times, seen by many mortals as different gods/goddesses. She took the shapes they'd already imagined her to have. She was Anubis, Hades, Shinigami, Osiris, Hecate, Charon...whom were all different entities, but she took their forms to bring comfort to the recently departed.

I feel like Rio had a lot of empathy for the first thousand or so years of doing this job. She listened to life stories as she ferried magical beings to their next journeys. She learned about society, about expectations, about why one might choose not to stay on the mortal coil, or why one might be taken from it by force.

She comforted the ones reticent to leave their physical bodies. She held the hands of too many young witches, taken too soon because of the fear that surrounded them. That's who she had the most empathy for: young, misunderstood witches.

Her empathy fades as humanity progresses. Witches are still persecuted, but many of them get on her nerves. They think so highly of themselves. They think they Death owes them something, that they deserve a second chance at life.

Nobody gets a second chance at life.

And while it's her job, she starts to kind of resent it. The spirits that won't leave piss her off. They disturb the living as often as they can and Rio gets blamed for it. This is why she hates ghosts.

But there's nothing she can do.

And then she meets Agatha. Agatha who is young and powerful and so scared when they first meet. Agatha, who has just caused the deaths of her entire coven. Agatha, who didn't mean to cause so much destruction; she just needs to be properly taught.

So Rio teaches her. I think they would have this kind of relationship where Rio fosters Agatha's talents, where she takes Agatha to places where she can be as destructive with her magic as she wants and nobody will judge or demonize her. And every time Agatha masters a spell or gives Rio that super proud smile, Rio falls a little more in love with her.

She revitalizes Rio's love for her job. And it's not like it's Agatha's fault that other witches keep attacking her. And it's not like she can truly control that siphoning thing every time it happens. It just is what it is.

Agatha feels bad the first time it happens, too. But then she takes on Rio's logic of "well, they shouldn't have done that then," and all is well.

Agatha is alive and safe and Rio gets more bodies to ferry, more work. She actually really loves her work, especially because it means she gets to spend more time with Agatha, who just can't stop getting attacked for some reason...

There are rules to her job, of course.

First and most important rule: Death cannot kill. It is a conflict of interest. It wouldn't be very fair to give herself more bodies to ferry. Soon enough, there would be none left. In theory, at least. It's like insider trading, in a way.

Another one: Death cannot bring back life to one who has died. That is also not fair, and it's actually not even something she can do. She isn't Life; she's Death.

And: Death must ferry souls as soon as possible to the other life. Souls that linger too long become ghosts and it gets harder for them to cross over. It's considered a failure on her part when a Spirit becomes a Ghost.

She regrets ferrying Nicholas. That was her son, too. I will entertain no other theories. She loved that kid. She was just as much his mother as Agatha was. She knew how much it would hurt Agatha, but she also knew that she couldn't allow Nicky to become a ghost. It would be a torturous existence for them both. And if Agatha had her way and reanimated his body, forcing his soul to remain there, it would be so much worse.

It is her biggest regret and the only scar she has.

She doesn't have to lick wounds to heal them. That's just something she does for Agatha. Agatha either doesn't know this or doesn't fight it. I cannot even decide which one is funnier.

Rio is more than her job, though.

She is also a bottom.

Only for Agatha.

Moving on.

When Agatha uses the Darkhold to disappear, whatever beacon spell they'd had on each other since practically the beginning of their courtship is interrupted. She cannot find Agatha. She cannot even see Agatha, not even if she was two inches from her own face. Agatha makes it so they never run into each other, no matter whom she kills.

And then Wanda gets the Darkhold and it's like a fire alarm blaring in Rio's ear. She goes immediately to Agatha's side.

Yes, immediately. You know that was not a three-season delusion that Wanda put her under. "Agnes" had many, many different TV shows running through the spellbound mind. She just wasn't broken out of it until Teen got there.

Herb was so nonchalant about her little "true crime bug" that there had to have been several different medical series, soap operas, firefighter shows, other cop shows, comedies, home improvement shows, reality shows (The Real Housewives of West View?), and a mockumentary or two that came before it.

And Rio was a guest star in all of them, willing Agatha to just wake up. But Agatha didn't recognize her. She just knew that she hated her, in every single mind show. She just hated Rio Vidal.

And Rio was just in a hell of her own making, trying desperately to break Agatha out but not knowing how.

She loves this woman so much. All the threats to kill her and telling others where to find her? Foreplay. I can totally see them trolling each other as they ran around New England, pointing fingers at one another, calling out "Witch!" and snickering as the torches are lit.

Their sex breaks down houses. They have done it in a grave. Rio attempts to murder Agatha at least twice a day at their peak; it's called flirting, Jennifer.

Agatha, obviously knowing that Rio can't actually kill her (and she cannot kill Rio for obvious reasons), feels safest when she's around. Because Rio defends her. She knows the things that Agatha has done and she loves her (not in spite of them, but sort of because of them. Girl's a freak.) anyway.

And Rio hates her mother-in-law, Evanora, with a passion. She definitely has a list of people she hates from all the souls she's had to ferry. A lot of white Puritan men are on that list for their role in the Salem Witch trials. But Evanora is #1 on that list. It's on sight for that bitch.

And I think that makes Agatha soft for Rio. Because nobody has ever defended her against her mother, for her whole childhood. Nobody except Rio.

Which is why Agatha is definitely the one who proposed.

It was a mundane kind of day. Her powers had just killed another coven. Before they attacked, however, one of the witches called Agatha a "Witch-Killer" and said that her mother had always been right about her. She'd heard of how evil Agatha was as a child and this just proved it.

Rio's hands had glowed green and as she took the woman by the throat, slamming her against a tree, screaming at her, telling her about how the true evil was the woman who hated her own child so much as to plan a whole execution after abusing her for her entire childhood. How Agatha was a survivor and so much more powerful than her mother could ever hope to be. And that witches like her had to wake up to it and--then the witch blasted Agatha and it was all over.

Rio huffed as she dropped the empty husk of a body, glaring at the spirit as it floated above it.

"That was your own fault," she said. "If you had just listened to me, none of this would have happened."

The witch just glared and Rio rolled her eyes, collecting the souls of the other witches who had attacked Agatha along with this dumb with.

"I'll be right back," she promised Agatha, who was still thrumming with magic.

"Marry me!" Agatha said as Rio disappeared.

She was halfway through with the job when the words registered in her mind. She got them across in record time, returning to find Agatha on her knees, waiting for her, a purple ring of something she'd made from magic. She was smiling up at Rio, tears in her eyes.

"What did you say?" Rio asked, her heart pounding.

"Marry me," Agatha repeated, her voice tight. "Rio Vidal, will you marry me?"

"Yes!" Rio dropped to her knees and tackled Agatha to the ground, raining kisses down on her while Agatha laughed.

And then they got married and lived happily for a century or two, until they had a son. I have no idea how Nicholas came to be. I have no idea why he is a Scratch rather than a Harkness or a Vidal. But I know he had two mommies who loved him more than anything. Rio probably never thought that she could be a wife to anybody, let alone a full mother, but she loved that boy. And she loves Agatha.

Rio has a big heart and she's a bit intense, but we love that for her.

11/10 character

[vampyreelf]

Foreign Beauty

A/N: Might get in a silly goofy mood and write a part 2, let me know if I should. 💕

Summary: After your father made you attend Oxford, you took a detour during the holidays to Birmingham and there you met Thomas Shelby, and the two of you got pulled towards one another.

Thomas Shelby x Reader

Warnings: toxic father, smut (a little bit though)

Tag: @mrkdvidal1989.

You hated your father now, he made you go to Oxford university. You wanted to only live in 

Paris and be able to just live your life and buy pretty dresses and have fun with your friends, but not now, you needed to be in a gloomy town with people that can’t even dress properly and that made you angry.

“Father, if you insist on me getting an education why not Paris? We already have a place there.” You had no idea why your father wanted you to pursue an education, it was only a matter of time until you were married off for an alliance anyway.

“You cannot be just a ditsy woman that only thinks about what’s on her body, you must feed your mind. End of discussion.” With that your father left you and you went to your room to cry.

How could he do this to you? Wasn’t enough that he was a criminal and you could never bring your friends to where he was? The fact that your mother left and he never allowed for you to have a relationship with her? Every single thing about your life was about your father, and no doubt that he wanted bragging rights to all of his associates of how he had his only daughter to attend Oxford.

If you had to do this, you wouldn’t be caught dead in British clothes. You told your father that you would get a new wardrobe with the latest Parisian fashion, if you can’t change your father’s mind, you would definitely make his wallet hurt. That was exactly what you did, went to Paris and ordered a whole new wardrobe to all of the fashion houses that you could think of. Your father was furious but didn't want to say anything, as  long as you were going to university, nothing else mattered to him.

------------------------------------------

The boat trip to Cardiff was long and dreadful, and to make things even worse it was raining in Wales, as usual. Your father’s men were waiting for you, and you had so many suitcases that it filled both cars. People in England took their time to stare at you, it always happened, you would never brag but your were a pretty woman in a pretty dress in gloomy Wales, people will stare. You got into the car and waited for your father’s men to be done with loading the cars.

The drive was boring and it was raining in most places, so you decided to take a nap. You woke up with commotion in the car and two of the men were fighting in the front of the car.

“What is happening?” You realised that the car was stopped, and the other two men were outside in the rain trying to fix it.

“Sorry, ma’am but the car broke down and we are nowhere near Oxford, we’re in Birmingham.” You saw a map pf England once and was confused, these are the men that your father employs? You took a deep breath and grabbed your umbrella and left the car, there seemed to be a pub nearby. “Wait, ma’am where you’re going?” One of the men tried to stop you but you kept walking.

“It’s cold, it’s raining and I saw a pub here. Could you please let me know when we can go?” He nodded and you kept walking towards the pub. When you entered the smell of cigars and booze hits your nostrils, and the warmth as well, it wasn’t that crowed so you simply took a booth and removed your very expensive fur coat.

You bought a drink and again all of the men and women were staring at you and you needed to get used to it. You were starting to get bored, maybe going back to the car was the best option. When you were about to leave, both doors were opened and a few men came in, they must be important since everyone got out of their way, you saw the one with the biggest blue eyes you’ve ever seen in your life and the man was incredibly attractive.

The man noticed you quite fast since you were the only one staring at him, quite unabashedly as well. He went to your table and sat down right in front of him, with a grin on his face, that made you smile.

“Never seen you here before.” You smiled, never having the opportunity to interact with people that weren’t from your father’s circle. “I would’ve noticed if I seen you here before, who are you love?” He seemed genuinely interested and you were basking on the attention. You said your name to the man.

“We lost our way to Oxford and the car broke down so I decided to come here and be warm with a drink. May I ask who you are?” You took a sip of your drink and the two of you couldn’t stop smiling at each other.

“I’m Thomas Shelby. Pleased to meet you.” He extended his hand and you shook it, and the two of you couldn’t deny that you felt something when the two of you touched. “Would you like another drink, love?” You nodded and Thomas went to get your drink, after he came back, he sat down near you.

“You’re quite forward, aren’t you Mr. Shelby?” You grinned at him and he seemed very pleased with himself.

“I have to, with a foreign beauty like yourself, someone might steal you away.” Thomas was being coy, he knew that no one would dare to talk to you with him there, but he wanted to make you feel special and also acknowledge the fact tht all of the men wanted to be with you.

“You don’t have faith that you are the most interesting?” You quickly realised that you love to tease Thomas Shelby.

“I know that I am, it simply might not be the case for you.” He wasn’t boring, you had to give him that and also confident, a man has never looked as attractive as he is now.

“Touche, Mr. Shelby.”

The two of you started talking about other things, politics mainly. But also art, and history. You were much younger than Thomas but he didn't mind it all and you loved the fact that he was older, mature and most importantly, confident.

The two of you were touching each other, his hand were on your thigh and your hand in his arm as well. The tension between the two of you was getting worse, the two of you even stopped talking just to keep looking at each other and touching each other. Thomas leaned into your ear, sending shirvers down your spine.

“Should we go somewhere more private, love?” He whispered in your ear and you only nodded, guiding him towards the bathroom.

When the two of you got there, Thomas put you against the wall and started to kiss you. His kiss was full of hunger and passion and you were more than happy to indulge him, you needed this too. Thomas started removing your dress and you removed his shirt, you were only dressed in your undergarments now, and Thomas still had his trousers. He started kissing your neck, drawing moans out of you.

Your hands went to his cock, he was painfully hard and you could tell that he was painfully hard. Thomas removed your bra without you even noticing, you felt his warm lips on your nipple, making you moan, with one of his hands Thomas started playing with your other nipple. His tongue felt like heaven on one nipple and his fingers were twisting and pulling the other, you were panting and moaning. You’ve never felt this way before, your pussy was clenching around nothing and you were so wet. The pressure on your pussy was increasing with every lick of one nipple and the pulling of the other.

“Tommy.” You whispered and a strangled moan espcaped your throat, Thomas stopped his ministrations and looked at you, he had the smugest look on his face.

“Did you just cum from me just playing with your nipples, love?” Thomas�� hands removed your panties and he started fingering you and playing with your clit. You closed your eyes from how much pleasure you were receiving but he was having none of it. “Keep your eyes on me, love.” That’s what you did, you’ve met this man a couple hours ago and he already had so much power over you. With his thumb making small circles on your clit and two fingers deep inside your pussy, Thomas wanted to make you cum as quick as he possibly could. “You look divine like this, love. I need you to cum for me. Can you do that, eh?” The noises that were being made were lewd, if you could think straight you would definitely be embarrassed by them.

As if Thomas has full control of your body, you cum again, Thomas enjoys the feeling of your pussy clenching around his fingers, he couldn’t wait to fuck you. Thomas was helping you ride out your second orgasm when you heard yelling coming from outside, the two of you looked at each other and out your clothes back on in a matter of seconds.

“What is going on ‘ere?” Thomas yelled, and the men that were with him fighting with your father’s men, you slapped Thomas’ men hoping they would stop assaulting your employees.

“Are you alright, ma’am?” One of father’s men asked you, clearly terrified that something happened to you.

“Of course, is the car ready?” All four of them nodded and if this wasn’t a sign for you to stop doing something you’d later regret, you don’t know what is.

You were about to leave when Thomas stopped you with a gentle pull of your arm.

“Leaving so soon, love?” He seemed almost sad that you were leaving, that made you smile.

“I’m going to Oxford university, if you want me come get me when you can.” You winked at him and he smirked at you.

He was going to get you, alright. With that, you left the pub to the car.

[leviathxn]

So mutual feelings (romantic)

Can you do like a Miguel x reader where its reader day off and she decides she wants to take a warm shower and listen to music so she puts on headphones and listen to pop or Spanish music or whatever(I was listening to follow the leader by Jlo that’s where this idea came from) and Miguel tries to call her because he needs help with some paperwork (not really he just won’t admit he misses her) so Miguel ends up going to her universe and to her apartment where he sees her in a towel dancing to music and singing along and finds it adorable

That’s the basic idea you can make it have a spicy end or just fluff , it can swing both ways , you can decide that

Okay this made me giggle 🤭

I can like imagine his face being from kind of cold/a little annoyed too this like little gummy smile 😩

—————————————————————————

“What could this woman be doing”

—————————————————————————

As a member of the Spider-verse you very rarely had time off. Sure, your universe was safe, but you were frequently called to help other Spiders and their anomalies. Work was your life, and of course their was downtime but fighting bad guys was exhausting, it took up a good chunk of the day, even week.

Your boyfriend, Miguel, even had slowed down your missions. Once he had started to like you, he pulled a mission once a week, which at first confused you but now that you’re dating, he’ll try and pull you from anything. You never really listened though, going on any mission possible. It’s your job, and the spider crew was fun to be around.

But finally, you decided to listen. Miguel had sent out missions with everybody on it, he never put you there, but he knew you would go. This time you pulled out a coffee mug, turned off your watch, made some fancy coffee (you’ve been dying to finally sit and enjoy this new coffee machine you got and it’s finally the time), and took a big stretch. This was your day, and you knew your city was safe ever since installing city watch bots (thank you Miggy 💕).

About two hours passed, people had gone on their missions, you finally finished savoring that beautiful coffee, and you paused your show. You hadn’t been able to watch it because of work and there was so many new episodes. You got up and gathered your supplies. A new body wash and scrub set, your shaving supplies, a scalp massager, and anything else you needed in the shower. This would be an everything shower, and it was gonna be perfect.

You set up your speaker and stepped into the shower, shuffling your everyday playlist. You took your time, the water falling at just the right pressure, the soap feeling perfectly smooth on your body, no missed hairs when shaving, and little to no fall out when washing your hair ((girl I’m practically shedding in the shower with how much hair falls out, I wish 🙏)).

On the other end, Miguel was concerned, annoyed, confusion, everything under the sun. You hadn’t gone on any mission, weren’t seen in headquarters, and you weren’t picking up any calls. You were one of his best spiders, his most cherished one, and very rarely did you listen to him and take off, so where could you be?

So he took it upon himself to find you. There was no reason to send a man hunt, not unless you were in danger of course. That thought stayed in the back of his but god was he frustrated. It’s apart of his daily routine to see you and you messed it up now doing who knows what.

As he set a portal to your home he sighed. Whatever was going on he’ll figure it out now. He stepped through into your living room. It was a cozy space. He noticed your candle lit in the living room. He knew you were home, you weren’t stupid enough to leave a candle unattended. As the portal closed and he could hear properly, music played from your bedroom hallway. His steps were quick, his worry subsided but now he was curious, what were you doing. As he peeked his head around the corner, there you were, bathrobe and hair wrapped in a towel, singing your favorite song while picking out what lotion to use. Not only did you look beautiful but you smelled amazing too. A small smile graced his face as he leaned on the door frame. You had those moments were you were unaware, stuck in your own world, enjoying your own things.

You realized he was there when his hands gently wrapped around your waist. He gently pulled you closer to him, head resting on your shoulder. He let out a big sigh after taking a breath of you. He was obsessed, totally and utterly in love. Your hand found its way into his hair, combing through it while appreciating his embrace.

“You didn’t want to work today?”

“Miguel…. Stay here with me.” He didn’t say anything. He made his way over to the bed as you threw one of his big shirts on, something that was always left in your home. You took your hair out of the towel, making your way to the bed before melting into Miguel’s arms. Yeah, today was a good rest day.

—————————————————————————

Hello Everybody! I hope you all enjoyed this and thank you for the request! I can imagine his face and it’s so scrumptious! I hope you all have a blessed day 💕

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[babyleostuff]

BOYFRIEND PHOTOS | KIM MINGYU

summary | a sunny date spend with your precious boyfriend

genre | fluff

word count | 974

pairing | mingyu x gn!reader

author’s note | purely inspired by gyu’s recent instagram posts. thank you for giving us the fluffiest boyfriend pics <3

“I’m here.”

Usually you couldn’t imagine grinning so hard over such a simple text, but coming from your precious boyfriend changed the perspective completely. Finally, after all the comeback stress and months of hard work he and his bandmates had to go through, he was allowed a day off.

You checked your outfit for the last time, feeling all giddy of the mere thought of this perfect sunny day you’d spend with Mingyu. Carefully running down the steps, you walked out to the street, almost bumping into the man before you.

“Mingyu!” you happily exclaimed, almost tackling him to the ground with a big hug.

Without saying a word, he chuckled and put his arms around you. It has been so long since you had a moment for yourselves that you’d forgotten how good it is to just simply hug him. No matter how long you’d been together nothing would top the feeling of just being in his strong arms.

“I missed you,” he said quietly, and you could bet a lot of money that he was slightly pouting too.

You pulled back to finally get a good look at his handsome face, adorned by the sunlight, making his honeyskin look even more beautiful.

“I’m so happy right now, you have now idea. I swear I don’t remember the last time I was so excited to go out. And it’s like the universe knew, I mean look at the weather, it's perfect,” he said excitedly, slurring his words which made his lisp come out a bit.

He gave you a big smile, showing his fangs that you adored so much. As you put your hands on his cheeks you asked:

“Kim Mingyu, are you going to kiss me or do I have to wait another month?” you didn’t even get to finish the question properly as he leaned down to seal your mouths in the most delicate kiss known to humankind.

His lips were soft, like pillows against your own, and oh how you’ve missed this. You could feel the tickle of his breath beneath your nose, while his fingers were carding through your hair.

You parted for a second to catch your breaths, but impatient as always Minguy went back in, this time kissing you with a little more force, as he also was dying to feel your touch again. Warmth and the smell of his cologne consumed you. With the butterflies dancing in your stomach, it was almost overwhelming how content you felt.

With a last peck he took your hand in his and pulled lightly to finally get you going, before both of you gave up on an outside date and went back to your place.

“So, where are you taking me today?”

“I found this cute cafe nearby and it looks like a good place to take some photos too.”

“Are you kidding me?”

“What?” he asked, with a slight concerne in his voice. You giggled at him and put your hand around his arm.

“I know where this is going, you’re just going to use me to take pictures for your Instagram! And what do I gain from this, hm?” you said in a jokingly offensive tone.

“Thousands of other people simping for my boyfriend, excuse me very much. I’ve had enough after scrolling through tens of tik toks saying how hot your “darumdarimda” is.” Now even he could contain his laugh.

After a couple minutes of walking and catching up on what you’ve missed, you hit your destination, and Mingyu was right - this was the cutest cafe you’ve seen in a while, situated in the best place to give you a bit of privacy.

“Here, here! Take a picture,” Mingyu suddenly said. He ran up the colorful stairs, and before you could take a single normal photo, he started doing some weird and funny poses. Not questioning your boyfriend’s antics, you took a couple of photos.

“My phone storage is crying right now. You have no idea how many of your stupid ass photos I have in my camera roll.”

“Do I get at least one day of freedom where people don’t bully me?” he whined. “Also, my own girlfriend? That really hurt,” he frowned while walking down the stairs.

“Also, why are you wearing your sunglasses like that?”

“Like what? Are you going to criticize this too?” Mingyu frowned even more. You would never fathom how this 6’2 man could act like a little child sometimes.

Before he could argue further, you snapped a quick photo, smiling to yourself.

“Cry about it big boy. At least I have stuff to blackmail you with,” you said and went to look for a free table to sit at.

“You hang out too much with the boys, I swear,” he said and pulled the chair back for you. After settling comfortably, you ordered some coffee and lunch and fell back to the conversation from before.

You could feel your heart race, because of how content, happy and loved you felt.

Looking at Mingyu, who was dramatically telling a story from one of their dance practices, where Wonwoo did a step wrong so Soonyoung threw a tantrum, you couldn’t contain your giggles, laughing at how overdramatic your boyfriend was acting.

“Why are you looking at me like that, hm? You don’t want to take photos of me? No problem, going to do it myself,” and he did as he said, starting to take some selfies from different angles.

“Oh stop it, you know I was joking. Here, let me,” you pointed your camera at Mingyu.

You both knew how much you loved taking pictures of each other, saving them as memories you’d have fun reminiscing on later in the future.

You spend the rest of the day in the same atmosphere, bickering, talking and laughing, but most importantly - being in love.

[evilminji]

The House of Mysteries is Arguably Sentient Right?

(O.O ) I sit here... contemplating the... WEIRD Ghosts Danny might come across. The true Haunted Houses. Planets. Theaters. Boxes bigger on the inside. Living ships and A.I.s, Etc.

All things can die. If the house of mysteries is someday utterly destroyed? Is that not death? If the Planet and Green Lantern Mogo is broken to pieces like non-sentient Krypton was, has he not perished?

Do they not stand equal chance of become Ghosts?

Are.... Are Haunts even created? Or are they a symbiotic ghost relationship? The dual fulfilling of Obsession. A house, properly haunted and taking care of someone. And a Ghost, watching TV or organizing stamps or living out the fantasy of their Perfect Life.

All behind purple doors.

Houses are demolished all the time. Or lost to war or disaster. An old enough house? Enough people living and dying in it? Could arguably start to accumulate ectoplasm. Become, not sentient, but a touch more. And in dying? Like any animal, leave behind that Idea of who they were. That ALMOST and Instinct.

Certain places though? That are alive? That have seen far too much death? They seem to carry over. Castles and long burned libraries, coliseums, and frozen hills. The places life was lost, over and over or all at once.

Floating islands from long dead planets.

I bet we could find Kryptonian flora on some of them. If we looked in the right area. It must be a strange mix. Down right bizarre. Facing just about anything and wondering if it's sentient.

With Ectoplasm? It could be.

But at the same time? Imagine the RELIEF? Of, after the stress and fear of dying, waking up CHANGED, somewhere new and alone... searching desperately for something, anything, to ground your self? The relief you'd feel... when a door seems to drift right into out of nowhere. Just? Gentle bonk.

And yeah, it's purple. Looks like every generic door that's ever been. But? It has this VIBE. Like you're staring at the door to your first shit apartment, but it's YOURS and YOU paid for it and you're... you're home now. You open it.

And it's like some crammed every inspo board you ever had and all the parts of every room you ever loved, together. Familiar, new, and best of all? NOT a vast swirling green void. You drift inside.

If you're like so many ghosts? Probably never leave. Why would you? It's spooky and loud and crazy out there. Everyone's nuts. In HERE it's nice. No fights, art and food the way you like it, time feels muted and far away...

You only really snap OUT of your happy Vibe Sesh with your House Haunt when someone intrudes.

There us probably a whole flip side of the Zone that we never really see. Haunt politics. Competition for the really GOOD Ghosts. Haunts that don't want a ghost because they are waiting for somebody who may or may not come.

Other fuckin MOGO'S. Seriously. Sentient planet. That may be rare, may even be the sole example IN THEIR UNIVERSE, but the Zone is Multiversal. Literally Infinite.

Which means there ARE at least a handful or more of SENTIENT PLANET GHOSTS. How do you?? Cope? "Oh this is my buddy, the PLANET EARTH." But possibly BIGGER.

Fuck that's a lot of Ectoplasm. Thank Zone their Obsession's are usually "Be Prosperous Planet" and "orbit and protect this Star, which is sentient and my frient".

Oh? They forgot to mention the SENTIENT FUCKING STAR? As in giant ball of fire and death? Whoops! :T

Don't worry! THEIR Obsession is their planets! It's a full circle thing. Just leave that little system alone and they won't annihilate you and everything you've ever loved! Easy.

Lookin a little pale there, your Majesty. You need to lay down?

(And to think, all this... because Pariah's Castle got into a literal land war with other castles over who gets the New King.)

(Accusations of being a Greedy Bitch were thrown. Suggestions to Get Good and stop being A Loser Crybaby were offered. Somehow, there were cannons? Danny is still unclear but has been told under NO circumstances is he to step foot in ANY ghost building until mediators can be brought in. It could be seen as declaring a preference.)

@hypewinter @hdgnj @ailithnight @nerdpoe

[fishyvamp]

I absolutely enjoy @ghouljams CoD Fae!AU. Just imagining a dead by daylight version, the entity a fae queen who has clawed every killer she has into her clutches. Forcing them to do her bidding. In exchange they have a city filled with victims ripe for the picking.

Fae!Trapper dragged into the mess against his will. Hunts only to eat. He's very clinical about who he picks favouring drunks who are stupid enough to wander the woods. Enjoys it when his prey fights back, the stronger the better. Cowards taste the worst can't stand the groveling, it taints the meat. Don't you know not to be in the woods at night?

Fae!Ghost Face likes pretty things, people who are soft and giving. When he finds a mark he just inserts himself into their lives. Making them forget he was never there. What do you mean darling, we've been dating for years. How could you forget silly ol' me?

Fae!Hillbilly has his favorite haunts, he likes the forest to chase and feel the fear. He likes the quick meals, not really caring for the prep that some Fae in the court do. It takes effort and he'd rather just sit in front of the video store and see what the pretty pictures are showing. He's not picky, you just have to hope that the puppy at the video store doesn't get hungry.

Fae!Wraith is a bit more methodical, he takes his time hunting for the right prey. The more dangerous the better. Someone who thinks they're strong. Someone who laughs when others warn about what hides in the dark. It's him there, in the shadows watching, his bell echoing down the stone paved street as the only light is a single street light illuminating a tall tree like being vines hanging off his body as he vanishes. Over and over his prey terrified as they never know where he's going to appear next. At least until it's too late. Don't you know to go inside when the bell tolls?

Fae!Knight + extras He hunts in a group, favorite haunt is libraries/University. Tricks sweet naive prey into trusting him by having his guards harass them. They're just so helpless. He's a knight in shining armor after all, why wouldn't you trust him as his chases off the mean men who won't leave the prey alone. Of course by the time his prey is properly prepared he's sharing them making sure his guards are getting fed too. Look at you so pretty weeping surrounded by big mean men, don't you know to not trust strangers?

Fae!Legion is the same way, they're a pack, but at the same time they like hunting specific targets. They all enjoy passion and watching their prey burn bright and fast, showing them everything. Fae!Frank and Fae!Joey hanging around bars looking for that pretty little thing goeding them to slip out helping them shine. All eyes on them and they have the night of their lives. Nevermind come morning when you can't move. Fae!Susie hanging around art museums watching the people draw, waiting til she gets noticed. An artist sketching her. She wants to see, wants to see what they're drawing. Gets all all cuddly helping them make masterpiece after masterpiece. They're entire being dedicated to the perfection of their new muse. Fae!Julie haunting gyms and sporting events. She can bring anyone to the top, help them thrive in their chosen fields as she feasts on the obsessive drive to be the best. Just a shame that so many get broken by the time she's had her fill. Wasn't that minute of fame worth it for you?

I have other ideas even ones about reader darlings for some of them, like Hillbilly falling for the shop owner, and ideas about some of the other killers.

[ochrearia]

Modern Warfare

Me going absolutely nuts insane. Most normal Ochre moment is when I can project all of my loneliness problems onto a character who also has a loneliness problem but at least the character can have people fix it /silly

ALSO YOU GUYS SHOULD TOOOOOOTALLY PUT THIS SONG ON WHILE READING :3

BFs in this one-shot: Yourself (YS) (All of the other BFs are mentioned briefly at the end, but aren't technically here.)

His scars hurt. Sometimes that would happen, on random days at random times, whenever they wanted, they would start hurting. Despite the injury having been healed at this point, and the physical trauma of it done and gone, they would start hurting again. Just to remind him of the things he’d done to himself, because no matter how much good he found in his life all of a sudden, YS was not allowed to escape what he’d done. Though the things he tried to escape usually were what he’d failed to stop, he’d never really cared about the hurt he inflicted on himself.

So what was changing, then, that he suddenly did seem to care?

He could probably call someone. One of them had to have time to spare but he hated the idea of being a bother. Especially over something that a majority of them didn’t know about, and he was not in the mood to explain it. Beefer knew but he was stressed out as it was. Beef… wasn’t supposed to know, but YS had slipped up and let his guard down a little too much.

Was that really a bad thing?

One call away. Always one call away, just like he always was for them. Why was it so hard to let that be true for himself? Why did he have to be so stuck in this mindset of suffering, at some point he had to ask, hadn’t he suffered enough? But the answer was somehow always no.

The scarred nubs pulsed with pain again, pain that shouldn’t even be there. His wings were gone, there was nothing to even be transmitting that pain to. So it got stuck there, radiating something ugly to the rest of his back, making it hard to breathe when it took over his chest. Hurts. Like perpetual shattering in his chest, riding all the way up to his head to make his brain hurt. The inability to focus. They’d all been hanging around him long enough for the emotional connection magic to latch onto each of them. If he didn’t keep his damn walls up they’d all feel it this time.

But it was so hard to keep focus with this damn pain.

Oh, what does it matter anyway? I keep these walls up all the time, even in the times I get to be asleep, it’s so exhausting. YS thought to himself. I wish I didn’t have to. I know it would be so overpowering for everyone if I never put the walls up, I wish the connection didn’t happen but it doesn’t seem like the universe agrees. Can’t dump this all on them, don’t want to. But I’m tired. 

YS stumbled his way to his couch, collapsing quite unceremoniously. He couldn’t even sit back properly, his back ached like a bitch. He laid himself down on his stomach, grumbling and whining the entire time. Oh, he was acting like a toddler, bitching and moaning because of this. Ridiculous how many things could derail his composure. He was supposed to be tough and serious and life stopped him from coming across as that at every possible turn.

“One time, just one time, it would be so nice to not have everything working against me.” YS spoke to no one. “Why do I end up having so many problems, where the hell is my composure? There’s too damn much here. Any normal person would know this is all too much of a burden. I’m not calling them, world, I don’t care if that’s what you’re trying to prove.”

Incredible leaps of logic. Was he refusing to call for comfort because he really did believe he was too much of a burden, or was he just throwing a tantrum for the sake of it? The scars twinged with pain again, making him cringe. He already had to deal with being perpetually tired, why this too?

Tired, achey, bad mood. Several forces working together to smack his head for a loop, thoughts scattered and unfocused. YS let his chin rest on top of his folded arms, glaring at the arm of the couch. Delirium was his best friend at this point. That motherfucker showed up more times than his brothers combined. Fine, if the world wanted him off his ass then he’d be off his ass.

“You know, I almost never let myself dwell on things, like things I want. I don’t think the things I want should be given to me, because I hate myself, and that’s obvious. Why would I let something I hate have the things it wants?”

He was talking to no one. Well, YS supposed he was never really alone. She was always lingering in his microphone. Hah, she probably thought he was acting nuts, talking to the air, being so… un-composed. That wasn’t like him, at least, not since she’d… died.

“Oh, but I want things. I want many things, so many different things. Indulgences. Niceties. I know damn well I am a creature who deserves to suffer and even before then I was supposed to have everything I’d ever need to be happy, but I never did. I wanted. I wasn’t really supposed to do that. That’s how I got here.”

If YS hadn’t torn his own wings off he’d probably have them removed anyways down the line. Angels like him weren’t meant to want things. Not supposed to know what warmth was. Addicted to wanting warmth, that had been the first step of his utter downfall. Because once that had started, he’d started wanting other things. Things he wasn’t supposed to have.

But it was so addicting to want things.

“I wanted you, and I got you.” YS said, looking at his microphone sadly. She glowed red in response. “For a time, I had you. It’s my fault that you had to be taken away so permanently. Because I broke the rules, and I wanted. Wanted you, in my greed, and I took your life with my selfishness.”

YS turned away, biting his lip as the scars pulsed with pain once more.

“I didn’t learn my lesson. I’m still here, sitting here, wanting things. Can’t want things, that will just lead to them dying. But…”

He’d lost her because of his greed. Everyone knew that a wanting angel left to fall down that path would eventually turn into a weeping angel, cursed with eternal tears over what their greed caused them to lose. He hadn’t gotten there yet, somehow, but that meant he’d get there eventually if he kept on what he was doing?

“I want so badly. I thought there were creatures in this world that could be above that, since I was meant to be. I think there still are. I’m not one of them. You know what I want now? Oh, you already know, you keep trying to let me have it. God. So fucking… stupid.”

YS should shut his mouth. No one but her was around to hear this, but that was still enough for his brain to start screaming at him to stop. Not to say this out loud, not to admit it. He was pretty bad at listening to his own brain, though.

“I want to be loved. Constantly, every fucking second of the day, I want to feel loved. I want to be able to bask in it, in such warm attention, and it’s so… stupid. I want everything I used to have, with you, but I know I can’t. And now there’s a chance to get close to it again. Not the same, but still love, and I still want it.”

YS tried not to let his thoughts drift to his other selves, but he failed miserably. His other selves, his now brothers. A bunch of stupid, idiotic, annoying assholes who still kept coming around for him. Why? Had they been given better mirror-walking as a test? To prove a point? Seeing how they would constantly come through his mirror not just because they could, but because they wanted to.

He’d tried to get them to attach to each other. That had been part of his plan. If they were going to have superior mirror-walking, at least they could bother and support each other, and he could slip away into irrelevance until he was completely forgotten. But they hadn’t done that. Sure, he had no doubts that they still traveled around worlds to each other, to hang out and be stupid, but they still made time to come to him. They came by so often, and it made his heart burn.

It made his eyes burn too, no matter how desperately he tried to stop it.

“I love my brothers.” YS breathed, almost overwhelmed. Where was all this space in his heart for love coming from, after being so damn empty for so long? “God, fuck, I love my brothers so much, it’s almost painful to think about. I didn’t think I could feel like that again. Loving someone so much it makes it hard to even breathe, doesn’t matter the kind of love it is, does it? There- This can’t all just be me being lonely, right? We’re dodging around the rules of the multiverse, fucking around and hanging out when each universe is confused as to why there’s more than one of us in it at a time. There has to be some bent up rule trying to compensate for that. I feel like my brain is going haywire trying to understand there’s other versions of me wanting to care for me. Physically in front of me, I mean…”

Oh who was he kidding. He was talking to her like she could even respond. Resting gently on the small coffee table in front of the couch, still glowing her lovely shade of red. His facade was completely broken at this point, having been crumbling for weeks the more his brothers came around, caring for him. Loving him when he swore up and down he needed to suffer. They’d all gotten so attached so quickly, that had to be at least partially due to messing around with the multiverse.

“It’s weird.” YS sighed. “Seeing me in front of me, that isn’t part of me. I can normally ignore it but it’s always there in the back of my head, confusing my mind. Making me want to do stupid shit. Being physically affectionate seems like a universal attribute but it’s like it gets sent into overdrive when they’re in front of me. Like I need to hug them and not let go. Like… what’s me doing without me? Some weird instinct to try and become whole again when I was never fragmented in the first place…”

He himself was to blame for it anyway. He’d been the dumbass to cross between worlds in the first place. Still metronome between deciding if it had been a good or bad idea in the end. Still so full of doubts and hesitations, issues flashing across his mind like error messages. He wouldn’t be here feeling love again if he hadn’t done it. But…

None of them would’ve known I existed, none of them having to go through the dread of knowing there’s a world out there where they lost it all. None of them having to feel so repulsed by me. None of them having to feel responsible for me. None of them having to end up with a washed-up brother figure they never even asked for.

“I don’t know what I’m doing.” He said eventually. Honestly. Admitting to things he was bottling for so long. “I really miss you. I know I said I was going to join you soon, and I really did mean that. But I can’t… they’re stopping me. And I’m phrasing that like it’s a bad thing but it isn’t, is it?”

Huh. Her glow seemed to grow brighter at that.

“I don’t think anyone wanted that plan to go through but me. Sometimes I might still think it should.” YS mused, flipping over onto his back. Funny, he didn’t even realize his pain was gone. “I think I just get so lost in my own mind too much. I should really stop doing that… Kinda hard to stop when I’m alone. I don’t know where my strength has gone.”

He knew where it had gone, he was lying through his teeth. His strength hadn’t existed since the day he lost her. So much of himself had died with her, or so he’d thought. The others, they were pulling things out of him that he’d thought were gone. Thoughts, feelings, actions. Was this healing, perhaps?

“I really outsourced my own self-healing.” YS chuckled, shaking his head at the absurdity. “That’s so fucking dumb. But fitting. I wasn’t ever the smartest to begin with.”

Content, he decided, was not a feeling he’d felt in a long while. Somehow he was feeling it now. Hah, look, he didn’t have to call for comfort after all. Not that it would’ve been a bad thing to do really. However, if he had done so, he wouldn’t have said any of what he did. The bottle would still be full. Despite always insisting the rest of them use him to vent to, YS never felt like he should open up to them. Probably a lingering consequence of the first incident…

YS got lost in his own thoughts again, his rambling to the air coming to a close. He felt better, and his back pain was over now. That was good, right? He felt fine. Like a weird middle ground, but at least it wasn't crushing negativity for now.

And what was Herself doing, still glowing on the table? Oh, nothing much really, only perhaps amplifying the connection her love shared with his other selves. It was baseline magic, no harm in adding on more to make the signal stronger, right? No harm in strengthening it enough for all of them to hear exactly what he’d been saying the whole time, even across the multiverse, right?

Nah, no harm. YS would never know.

Never know of the ear-splitting, watery-eyed grin stuck on Biff’s face. Never know of the content, happy fog that settled in Beefer’s mind, blocking out all of his own negativity despite living in it in real time. Never know of the positive turmoil his words set off in Beef and Bee’s heads, wondering what they’d done to deserve it. Never know of the glee festering in the chests of Boyf and Peacock, spreading across their bodies and warming up their thoughts. Never know of the happiness from Blue, knowing his love and care was returned. Never know of the spark of hope Cyber felt.

YS had let his walls fall in his silly little tantrum, she’d just helped nudge it in the right direction.

[likecanyoujustnot]

Just Two Heirs: Pt 1

The wedding

Summary: We know Dorian and Aelin could have been betrothed in another universe. Well in this one they are.

A/n: I had an existential crisis. Anyway. Enjoy. It’s pretty long and I haven’t been to a wedding since I was about 10 so I can’t remember what is said. And there will probably be inconsistencies in the characters because it has been a long time since I read the books. Aedion says cuz. Chaorian?? The dialogue is very repetitive.

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Dorian was to be wed to the crown princess of Terrasen.

The betrothal had been planed out since he’d been 11.

His father and Aelin’s parents and the king of Terrasen agreed it was a good decision, one to strengthen ties and secure the succession of both kingdoms.

Never thinking that they would both be marrying someone who was nearly a stranger to them.

But Dorian couldn’t do much to stop it.

Chaol thought he should just go along with it.

“From what I hear she’s quite beautiful, you could do a lot worse.”

But he didn’t get his reputation as an infamous womaniser and heartbreaker for listening to his friend.

But marriage would put an end to his adventures with the women of court. Dorian was many things. But he would not be unfaithful.

She was coming in four days, they would have a week to properly get to know each other before being wed.

Preparations for the biggest social event of the decade were under full swing. Decorations were already being put up, his father had a tailor coming tomorrow to fit him for some new outfits for the ceremony and their honeymoon, wherever they decided to go.

He stared out at the gardens currently being trimmed and cut ready for the visitors. He would go find Chaol, spar with him to take his mind off his future.

Aelin wasn’t quite scared.

More so apprehensive.

In about a week and a half she would walk down the aisle to say her vows and tie her life to that of the prince she’d met thrice.

“You will be fine, darling.” Her mother, Evalin said, watching as Aelin tried on the various dresses in hope one tickled her fancy.

This one was rather revealing, with a deep plunging neckline. She shook her head and it was taken off her.

“I know mother, but I have no idea what to expect, for all I know he could be ugly and horrid.” She knew he wasn’t. Unless he’d majorly changed in the last seven years and the stories she’d heard were wrong, he was extremely handsome and a much loved man.

“All will be well, worse comes to worse, you get divorced after a few heirs are born or you take another lover.”

“Mother.” She moved her hair over her shoulder so the dressmaker could do up the gown. “Surely you are not condoning cheating.”

She took a sip of the wine. “Of course not.”

Aelin turned and looked in the mirror.

This was the one.

It was silk and hugged her curves, the neckline showing a little bit, but not too much, with off the shoulder sleeves that gaped open at her wrists.

“I love it.” She whispered. The dressmaker smiled at her reflection.

“It’s looks wonderful on you, fireheart.” Evalin said. “Everyone is going to love it.”

The carriages had been prepared as Aelin slept. She, her mother and father, her cousin Aedion, and great uncle, the king of Terrasen, would spend the next few days travelling to Rifthold so they could get there in time for the week of celebration that was customary to precede the wedding.

The adults were going in one carriage and the cousins in another.

Aedion wasn’t happy about the marriage. He was fiercely loyal to his cousin and family and would do anything for Aelin. Evalin had taken the boy in after his mother, her cousin, had died and his father had been no where to be found.

But it was no secret amongst the Ashryver Galathyniuses that his father had been fae.

Aelin was fae too. She could shift into an immortal form.

Not that she did it often.

The carriage lurched and so began the journey.

Their first stop was in Perranth. The home of Lord Lochan.

His wife, Marion, was one of Aelin’s nurses but was travelling with them, so she had been happy for the excuse to see her daughter Elide, who was the same age as Aelin.

Aelin pretended not to notice the covert glances between her friend and cousin.

They set off the next morning and stayed at an inn in the Oakwald Forest.

Very few of the guards had slept that night with how unprotected they were.

Then finally, they made it to Rifthold.

The city was bedecked with garlands and decorations everywhere.

People cheered as the procession made its way through the streets to the glass castle. It glinted in the sunlight, massive and casting a large shadow over the city.

The carriage stopped and Aedion jumped out before taking Aelin’s hand and helping her down.

Standing in front of the large doors was the king.

The Galathyniuses walked up the steps and Orlon shook hands with the king.

“It is a pleasure to be here for the joyful union of our kingdoms.” He said.

“Yes, it will be a great one.” The king replied.

Aelin and her family followed the king through the castle and to a dining room, where four people were standing.

Queen Georgina, Price Hollin, a man she didn’t recognise, and her betrothed. Dorian.

At least the reports of his beauty had not been exaggerated.

Midnight black hair and piercing sapphire eyes, cheekbones and a jawline that could cut glass, a full mouth and toned body shown off by the cut of his white shirt and black pants.

He looked every bit a charming prince.

“Princess Aelin, my eldest son, Dorian.”

Dorian walked over to Aelin and kissed the back of her hand. “My lady.”

She curtsied to him. “Prince.”

He extended her his arm and when she took it he lead to her a seat down the far end of the table.

He has lovely manners. She thought.

Dorian pulled out her chair, pushed it in and sat to her left.

The other man she did not recognise sat next to him, and Aedion sat on her other side next to Evalin.

“How was your journey?” The prince asked.

“It was well, a bit tedious, but we made it.”

Dorian nodded.

Aedion stuck his head so he could see around them.

“Who are you?” He asked, tone bordering on rude.

The brown-haired man looked at Aelin’s cousin. “Chaol Westfall, captain of the guard, close friend to Prince Dorian.”

Aedion frowned. “You look too young to be captain of the guard.”

Chaol glared right back at him. “I’m 20.”

“Let’s just calm down, okay?” Dorian said, raising his hands. “Prince Aedion, I assure you we are well protected here.”

Aelin looked at Aedion with a brow raised.

Servants brought out dish after dish. Much more than they would serve for only 9 people in Orynth, and only halfway through Aelin felt as though if she ate anymore she would explode.

Dorian seemed to notice this. “Father, do you mind if we leave the table?”

The king remained silent.

It was Orlon who said, “Let them go, enjoy some time together before they get married.”

Both of them stood up, leaving Aedion and Chaol glowering at each other.

Aelin had no clue where Dorian was leading her, but she hoped it was somewhere cool. The Adarlanian summers had a sting to them.

“These are my rooms.” He announced. “And in a week, I suppose yours too.”

He flopped down on a couch and gestured for her to sit opposite.

“I suppose you’re as joyed about his union as I am.” She said.

He raised his brows. “And how joyed are you?”

Aelin felt a blush creep over her cheeks. “Not overly, I would rather marry a man I know and for love, not for the political gain of my family.”

Dorian sighed. “I would too, but there is not much we can do, unfortunately as nobles, how we live and who we marry is predetermined for us.”

Aelin made a snort of agreement.

Dorian lied down so his head was resting on a chair arm and his legs dangled over the other. “We could always divorce once we have heirs and our parents are no longer hounding us.”

Aelin smiled. “That’s almost exactly what my mother said.”

The corner of his mouth lifted and he turned to face her. “Or you never know, maybe you’ll learn to love me.”

She looked at him incredulously and he laughed, the sound and the splitting smile turning him from beautiful into devastating. “Don’t look so disgusted. I have broken the hearts of many a woman, and once a man.”

“That doesn’t mean I’ll give you mine.”

He grinned. “We’ll see.”

The next few days lasted without incident. Dorian and Aelin would go for walks throughout the gardens, or down into Rifthold to allow Aelin to get the feel for her new home, Chaol and Aedion continued their pissing contest, and the king continued to give Dorian disapproving glares, despite the fact he was doing what he had been told.

Aelin slept in a room next to his, which he understood.

He was sleeping in, two mornings before his wedding when there was a knock on the door.

“Who is it?” He called. It would have to be someone trusted or the guards wouldn’t let them in.

“Me.”

Chaol.

“Come in if you must.” Dorian grabbed the pillow from under his head and laid it over his face.

If Chaol was here this early it was not a good sign.

“Dorian.”

“What.”

“Can you remove the pillow.”

He moved it back and sat up, watching his best friend who stood in full uniform, posture ridged and correct. “What can I help you with?”

“Your future in-laws wish to meet with you.”

Dorian’s eyes widened. “Why?”

“Not sure, but I would assume they would want to know you a little bit.”

Dorian sprung out of bed and threw on a shirt, gesturing to Chaol to turn around so he could change his pants.

He froze, one leg halfway in. “My parents… they’re not meeting with Aelin are they?”

Chaol remained staring at the wall as he replied. “I know your mother wishes to speak with her, but I do not think your father cares.”

He finished putting on his pants. “If Aelin does talk with my mother, I want you to get her out of it immediately.”

“Can I turn around?”

“Yes.”

Chaol spun to face him. “You will not be able to separate them for the rest of her life, nor can you keep her from your father.”

“My father is a horrible man, and I want no one to have to go through even a fraction of what I did.” He said, grim determination on his face as he stared down his best friend.

“So please, take her to the library, the bakery, the gardens or stables, anywhere Chaol, please.”

Chaol nodded and the two friends left the room.

Dorian raised his fist to knock on the door of King Orlon’s room. He made eye contact with Chaol, who nodded, and rapped his knuckles on the wood.

The door was opened by Evalin. “You’re here! Come in come in.”

She shut the door in Chaol’s face.

Evalin looked a lot like Aelin. They had the same hair colour and those Ashryver eyes.

Aedion, Orlon and Rhoe all sat around the coffee table. He assumed the casual atmosphere was supposed to ease him, but it just made him more nervous.

“So Dorian, you excited for the wedding?” Rhoe asked, stirring his tea.

Dorian contemplated how to answer that. “I am looking forward to it, it will be something very different that’s for sure, but Aelin seems wonderful from what I’ve gotten to know these past few days, and I think we could make each other happy.”

There you go, he didn’t show resentment for the predicament, he complimented their princess, and he made a statement about how their relationship could go.

Evalin and Rhoe seemed satisfied and nodded with smiles on their faces.

“What do you hope to accomplish once you become king?” Orlon asked.

Shit. It was no longer about Aelin.

“Well, there are a number of things, I would like to smoothen our relationships with other kingdoms, both on Erilea and the other continents. And I wish to help the impoverished, make sure they can afford to eat and live well.”

Orlon nodded. “Very good. Once you marry princess Aelin, where will she fit into this?”

Back to Aelin.

“I’m not sure yet, I she may help me if she wishes to, but her time is her own.”

The king nodded. “Hypothetically, if both of you were to come into your birthrights, so if your father, myself and Rhoe were to die, what would you do in terms of titles and kingdoms?”

Dorian honestly has never thought of that. Even if his father died, there was still Orlon and Rhoe, so he didn’t imagine getting both crowns for years and years.

“I’m not quite sure, I would imagine if say my father died first, Aelin would become my Queen Consort, and then if something happened to the both of you she would also be Queen of Terrasen.”

“And you would also be king consort.”

“Maybe.”

“Would you not just divorce?” Aedion cut in. “Or merge the kingdoms?”

Dorian looked to the prince. “I would not divorce your cousin just for the succession, and combing Adarlan and Terrasen would not be sustainable.”

Orlon smiled. “Good answers, boy.”

Evalin spoke next. “Dorian, we understand this… situation may not be how you envisioned getting married, but we are grateful for your cooperation.”

He nodded.

“You may leave.”

Aelin had to meet with Queen Georgina. She was not looking forward to it.

Considering the rumours of Dorian had been true, she assumed those of his mother would be too, that she was a very vain and self centred woman.

And well,

They were right.

Georgina’s rooms were full of maidens rushing around, getting dressed and things ready for the ceremony.

Aelin sat down across from the Queen consort and wondered how this woman came to be married to the king.

“So, Aelin…” She began. “How do you find my son?”

“He’s nice, sweet, I think he would be a good husband.”

She smiled like they had some kind of inside joke. “That’s how they all start off, before you know it, you’ll be neglected, it’s nice to have options.”

“Options?” She echoed. Why did everyone think that just because she and Dorian didn’t know each other well that they would take other lovers?

“The captain of the guard is rather handsome.”

Aelin fought the urge to cringe and throw herself out the window. She quickly changed the subject. “What colour dress are you wearing?”

“Oh red and gold of course, the kingdoms colours. Much the same as you are wearing Terrasen��s.”

That was true. The gown was lovely and green with silver trimmings.

“Most of the guests will arrive tomorrow, Dorian’s cousins, the princess of Ellywe, some delegates from Wendlyn.”

Aelin nodded. She knew all this. Invites had been sent out 6 months ago.

She, yet again, wondered how many fae would be in attendance. While the fae were not being persecuted, they were still looked down upon, especially by the nobility in Adarlan. She wondered how Dorian would feel if he knew he was engaged to a faerie.

“Where are you thinking of going for your honeymoon?” Georgina asked, breaking the silence. “You will have to decide that soon.”

Aelin nodded once more. “I’m not quite sure yet.”

They sat in silence, watching the maidens and sipping their tea when someone knocked on the door.

One of the ladies in wait opened it and Chaol Westfall followed her.

He bowed to both the women. “Pardon your majesty, but Prince Dorian wishes to see his fiancée.”

Aelin stood up and tried not to run out the door.

“Just a word of advice, Aelin.” She turned back to the queen. “There are many in court who will not be happy with this union. Especially those who wanted to be the one to wed my son, so I would recommend that you always watch your back.”

“Thank you.” Aelin tipped her head and followed Chaol out.

“Where’s Dorian?” She asked.

“The library.” He replied, setting off down the hallway.

“Wait- you have a library?”

He looked at her. “Well, I don’t have one, but yes, the castle does.”

“Maybe I will move here permanently.” She mused and Chaol tipped back his head and laughed.

Eventually they made it too the entrance and Chaol opened the door for her. “I doubt he wants me there, so enjoy.”

She thanked him and set off to find her future husband.

Aelin found Dorian in the romance section, sitting in an armchair. He was holding a book open with one hand while the other rested on the back of the chair.

“I’ve read that book.” She said as way of hello.

He looked up her. “It’s good isn’t it?”

She nodded and noticed this was the only seat in this part of the library.

“I’m surprised though.”

“Why?” He moved over and patted next to him on the chair, an invitation to sit.

Aelin took it and squished in next to him, trying to ignore the heat of his body and where their thighs pressed against each other.

“Because it’s a romance book.”

He raised a brow. “Are you saying that just because I am a man, I cannot read a romance book?”

“No, of course not.” She cried indignantly.

“I’m just messing with you.” He grinned. “I enjoy reading about other people, ones who don’t have the responsibility that comes with a crown.”

“I know the feeling.” She muttered.

“You can borrow as many books as you want, keep a few in your room.”

Aelin’s face broke into a wide grin. “You’re going to wish you didn’t say that.” She jumped up from the chair and pulled Dorian after her. She ran up to a shelf and picked out a book. “Hold this.”

And so that went on for 20 minutes. Aelin would grab books and pass them to Dorian, who would occasionally give his opinion on ones he had read and thought she would like, picking out a few for himself

The traipsed back to their rooms, laughing at the tremendous amount they were carrying.

Chaol stared at them as he followed them back.

“At least you’ve found a common interest.”

“Just because you can’t read doesn’t mean the rest of us can’t.” Aelin called in a sing-song voice.

Chaol’s mouth dropped. “I can read thank you very much, I just don’t have the time to.”

Dorian gave his friend a look that said, you’re gonna have to deal with this for a long while.

When they made it back to Dorian’s room they stacked the books in a corner and grabbed one that the other had already read.

When one came across a plot twist or a funny moment the other would ask which part of the book that was and they would discuss it.

For the first time since coming here, Aelin felt that she could at least be friends with her husband.

Dorian stood on a balcony and watched the procession of guests as they were ushered into the castle, where they would be taken to the hall, in which he would be wed.

He saw the princess of Eyllwe, the crown prince of Fenharrow, his cousin Rolland-who he would need to keep away from Chaol-, a silver-haired fae prince from Wedlyn, a son of the Kaghan, some dukes and lords.

People who didn’t care that two 19 year olds were to be married to near strangers. Even if they had developed a friendship in the past few days.

He sighed and went back inside to the waiting assistants to help him into the clothes he would wear for the ceremony.

“You look stunning sweetheart.” Evalin said, hands on her daughter’s shoulders. “Like a queen of old.”

Aelin smiled and looked in the mirror. The dress was a deep green with silver lining. The stomacher was embossed with patterns and swirls and a full skirt fell to the ground. Her golden hair hung around her shoulders, unbound and in romantic waves.

Her father, uncle and cousin nodded their agreement.

Orlon stood up and walked to Aelin, a wooden box in his hands. He opened it and her eyes widened.

Inside was a beautiful tiara, silver and inlayed with emeralds, perfectly matching her dress.

Her uncle took the tiara in hand and placed it onto her head.

“Wonderful.” He said.

Aelin barely comprehended what happened for the next two hours.

She ate and talked with her family, she tried to ignore the pounding in her heart. She was led to a side room, where she would wait until the hall was full and Dorian was in place at the far end for her to walk to.

Dorian strode down the aisle, his father, mother and brother ahead of him and Chaol, as his best man, behind him.

He stood on his side of the dais in front of the officiant, looking at the hundreds of people gathered.

“Nervous?” Chaol whispered.

Dorian chuckled. “Not quite.” He was more so apprehensive at his impending nuptials.

The doors were thrown open and in walked his bride.

The breath was stolen from Dorian’s lungs.

“Ready?” Rhoe asked.

Aelin nodded. The others had already gone.

She took her father’s arm and they left the side room and walked to the entrance of the hall.

Hundreds of heads turned to see them walk down the aisle.

She was surprised to see a few fae among the crowd, including a male with silver hair and green eyes, a massive dark haired male next to him.

Aelin looked to Dorian.

He was gorgeous is a navy blue jacket and pants, a circlet upon his brow.

Rhoe lay go of Aelin’s arm and kissed her cheek. “I wish you much happiness together.” He shook hands with Dorian and sat next to his wife in the front row.

Dorian took Aelin’s hands in his own. “You look lovely.” He said, just low enough for her to hear.

“You clean up rather well yourself.” She muttered.

Dorian smirked and gave a nod to the officiant.

The grey haired man cleared his throat and began. “Dearly beloved, family, friends and guests, we are gathered here today to mark the joyful union of these two young people. Prince Dorian Havilliard of Adarlan, and Princess Aelin Ashryver Galathynius of Terrasen.”

Aelin almost fell asleep as the officiant went on his rant about how it was an honour to be here to witness this momentous occasion.

She wished he would wrap it up so they could exchange vows, and from the distant look of the assembly, they wished much the same. She locked eyes with Dorian who raised a single brow. Aelin bent her head so her hair would cover her smile.

“Now for the vows.”

Finally

“Dorian, you first.”

Dorian took the ring from Chaol’s outstretched hand and slid it on Aelin’s finger. “I swear to remain faithful and loyal, to cherish and love you, from now until the day I die, I ask you, Aelin Ashryver Galathynius, to be my bride.”

“Aelin, do you take Dorian to be your husband, in sickness and in health, for as long as you both shall live?”

“I do.”

Chaol passed her the other ring and she took it, slipping it on Dorian, trying to ignore the heat of his hand and the piercing gaze of his blue eyes. “I swear to remain faithful and loyal, to cherish and love you, from now until the day I die, I ask you, Dorian Havilliard, to be my husband.”

“Dorian, do you take Aelin to be your bride, in sickness and in health, for as long as you both shall live?”

“I do.”

“Ladies and gentlemen, esteemed guests, by the power vested in me, I proclaim Dorian and Aelin, husband and wife, you may kiss the bride.”

Shit.

She forgot about this part.

Aelin froze as the gathering clapped and cheered.

Dorian seemed to sense her nerves, cupping the side of her face gently and slowly bringing his lips to hers, it was a light kiss, barely there, the kind that said, you can pull away now if you wish.

But for some reason she didn’t. Instead she put a hand on his forearm and pushed her lips so they were properly kissing.

His lips were soft, gentle.

She’d just gotten ready to move deeper into it when Chaol cleared his throat.

She pulled back, embarrassed, but no one was looking at them. The people at the front were congratulating their parents.

Dorian took Aelin’s hand.

“Ready?” He asked.

Her father had asked that exact word when he walked her down the aisle, now she was leaving with her husband. She nodded, still slightly flustered from the kiss, and together they walked out the hall, everyone watching them now and cheering.

They made it out of the hall and were ushered into a spare room that contained things such makeup, water, biscuits and cheese, and others that it was thought they might like.

“When are we due for the banquet?” Aelin asked.

Dorian took a sip of water. “They’ll come get us when everyone is seated, then we just walk to the head of the table and then we eat.”

She took a deep breath. “Easy enough.”

Dorian out down the glass and walked over to her. “You okay? You seem anxious.”

She shook her head. “I’m fine, it’s just, this, I guess. We’re married know y’know? We will spend the rest of our lives together.”

“Tune down the excitement would you?” Dorian smirked.

Aelin looked up at him. “I’m so overjoyed, Dorian, you are just so incredible and beautiful, it is truly an honour to be your wife.”

“That’s more like it.” He grinned.

She rolled her eyes.

When did he get so close?

Indeed Dorian was now leaning over her. “Aelin.”

“Hmm?”

Just like at the ceremony he cupped her cheek, and leant down. “You okay?” He breathed, the double meaning was there, was she okay with him kissing her.

“Yes.” The word was barely there as Dorian kissed her, wasting no time with gentle brushes, sinking into the kiss, lips and tongues moving together.

Aelin had kissed a few boys before, but none of them had been as skilled as her husband. She moaned softly into his mouth and wrapped her arms around his neck, pressing their bodies flush against each other.

Dorian pulled back. “Do you-”

The door was flung open and Chaol strode in. “They’re ready for you.” He took in the compromising position, the flushed cheeks and swollen lips. “Shit- sorry… I’ll just… be outside...” He shut the door leaving the two royals.

They remained quiet for a beat before Aelin burst out laughing, Dorian following soon after. They straightened their clothes and crowns and walked out, both avoiding Chaol’s stare.

It seemed that the party had gotten underway when they were gone, people drinking and chatting and laughing, but they all turned to watch the newlyweds walk to their place.

Two seats that were like thrones sat at the far end of the middle table, usually this spot would be reserved for Dorian’s father, but today he and his wife were more important.

He held Aelin’s hand as she sat and flopped down next to her, trying to ignore the raging within him to kiss her again and continue what they started.

The entrees were served.

Dorian was bored

The mains were served.

Dorian was bored.

This was his wedding, surely he should be able to do what he does at all parties, get drunk and take a girl to bed, and he knew exactly what girl he wanted.

The one sitting next to him. With her round green eyes and gorgeous hair, the bare shoulders that begged to be bitten. If she would let him. He watched her from his peripheral, trying to find some indication she was as agitated as he was.

But she seemed to be perfectly happy, chatting with the princess of Eyllwe.

It was going to be a long night.

Aelin could feel Dorian’s heated stare as she talked with Nehemia.

The young princess had come on behalf of her parents, and said that the ceremony had been beautiful, if a bit long.

The song the band was playing changed and Nehemia grabbed Aelin’s hand. “I love this one!”

They danced together for the duration of the song, ignoring the glances of the other people.

Once it ended in favour of something slower, she headed back to Dorian, a flush over her cheeks.

He took a sip of his wine. “Did you enjoy yourself?” He asked.

Aelin grinned. “Very much, thank you.”

He watched her with such intensity she felt the flush creep back up, but for an entirely different reason.

“May I have this dance, highness?” Dorian’s cousin Rolland stood next to to Aelin’s chair, hand outstretched.

She didn’t even glance at Dorian as she took his hand and he led her onto the dance floor. “Are you enjoying yourself?” He asked.

She ignored that those were almost the exact same words Dorian said. “I am.”

He looked a fair bit like Dorian, the same hair colour, same face structure, but where the heir’s made him look beautiful and welcoming, his cousin’s was hard and serious.

The song ended and Rolland went to get drinks from the bar.

A woman Aelin had never seen before approached her.

She had dark hair and a face that seemed permanently sketched in a scowl. “So you’re Dorian’s wife.”

“Considering I just married him, yes.”

A cruel smile pulled at her lips. “We used to be a thing, he and I, he claimed he loved me.”

Aelin has seen the jealous types in court before, the women who think they have some claim to a man with a title. She had to deal with a fair few who wanted to know everything about Aedion, is he dating anyone? Does he prefer blondes or brunettes? Aelin always tried to avoid those interactions.

“That’s nice.” She said, tight lipped smile that said she didn’t want to be here. She turned to head back to her husband and ask just who this woman was.

“He’ll tire of you like he tired of me.” The woman said. “Everyone knows it is an arranged marriage, you won’t last long in his bed, he’ll favour some younger thing.”

Aelin turned back to her. “I have no intention of letting that happen, I plan to stay exactly where I am.”

She didn’t intend for the innuendo that she was in Dorian’s bed, but it caused the woman’s face to redden.

“He won’t love you, he doesn’t love anyone.”

Aelin’s gaze narrowed. “Or maybe he just doesn’t love you.”

Dorian watched Rolland dance with his wife with barely restrained rage.

When his cousin left to the bar he breathed a sigh of relief, until he saw just who approached Aelin.

Kaltain.

Aelin walked over to one of the other tables where Aedion sat.

He made the move to head over there before Kaltain intercepted him. He suppressed the urge to groan.

“Dorian.” She purred.

He nodded. “Kaltain.” Despite what she probably told Aelin, they’d never been in a relationship, though she’d made her intention on the matter clear from the beginning.

“Just had a… lovely chat with your bride.”

“I bet you did.” He muttered, gaze tracking to where Aelin was now dancing with Chaol. Bastard. He was supposed to be his friend.

“Dorian, listen if you ever want-” she placed her hand on his bicep.

“No sorry, I’ve got to go.” He extracted himself from her grip and stalked over to Chaol and Aelin.

Aelin tipped her head back and laughed. “No way you fell.”

Chaol grinned. “I did.”

The captain spun her and she saw Dorian striding for them.

Chaol pulled her back to him.

“May I dance with my wife?”

Chaol frowned at his friend. “The song hasn’t finished.”

Aelin extracted herself from his arms. “It’s fine.”

Dorian pulled her to him, placing one hand firmly on her waist.

“Who was that woman that spoke to me?” She whispered.

“Kaltain Rompier. Her father is a lord, she’s been pursuing me for years.”

“Oh.”

“How’s the wedding?” He asked.

Aelin shrugged. “It’s alright, I think it’s a bit over the top, but I do appreciate all the planning and decorum.” She yawned, a hand over her mouth.

“Bored?” He raised a brow.

“Out of my mind.” She replied in a conspiratorial whisper. “It’s been three hours since the ceremony, surely we can leave now.”

Dorian laughed and his lips brushed the shell of her ear. “We could probably sneak out, the novelty of the wedding has worn off, everyone’s just using it as an excuse to get drunk.”

Aelin shivered. “Someone could see us.”

She could hear his smirk as he replied. “And? We’re sneaking off after our wedding, something married couples usually do.” He drew out the last words so she knew exactly what he meant.

“Dorian.” She hissed.

“What?” He grinned down at her. Devastatingly beautiful.

Aelin’s breath hitched and she quickly averted her gaze. “Nothing.”

“We can leave if you want to, Aelin.” The seriousness in his tone surprised her.

His blue eyes held such severity she found herself at a loss for words. “I-”

“Dorian! Aelin!” Came a shout from the other side of the room.

They both turned to find it was his father.

Dorian looped Aelin’s arm through his and they weaved through the dancing couples.

“Father.”

“Children I would like you to meet Rowan Whitethorn.” Aelin didn’t particularly like how he called them ‘children.’

A fae male stood in front of them. He was the one with silver hair that Aelin had seen at the ceremony.

Rowan bowed to them.

“You’re fae.” Aelin said.

Rowan nodded. “Prince of Doranelle.”

“Whitethorn came to see the wedding on behalf of Queen Maeve.” Aelin detected a bitterness in the king’s words, she remembered that he held a dislike for faeries.

“Nice to meet you.” Dorian shook the male’s hand. “My wife and I thank you for coming.”

Rowan nodded. “It was a lovely ceremony.”

“How long are you staying in Adarlan?” Aelin asked.

“Just a few days. Then I have to meet with the witches.”

Witches. The blue-blooded men-eating women who primarily kept to the mountains. Aelin hoped she’d never have to cross paths with one.

They discussed a few more things with Rowan before he excused himself, as his massive friend was about to punch a lord.

Of course that left them alone with Dorian’s father.

Aelin could feel the tension in her husband, so she took his hand and gave it a comforting squeeze.

“I hope the both of you have enjoyed the wedding.”

Aelin nodded. “We appreciate all the planning that has gone into it.”

Aedion sauntered over to the couple. “Can I talk to you two?”

Aelin nodded and they left the king.

“What is it?” Aelin asked.

“When’s an acceptable time to leave the party?”

“You came to ask me that?” Aelin hissed.

Aedion ran a hand through his hair. “Well yeah.”

Aelin glared at her cousin. “I suppose you can go.”

Aedion clapped Aelin on the shoulder. “Thanks cuz.” He took the hand of a dark haired woman and they walked out.

“You know, if he left, we probably can.” Dorian suggested.

Aelin sighed. “I’m ready to leave.”

The prince took her hand and they snuck out of the ballroom.

They were giggling as they ran up the stairs to Dorian’s tower.

“What’s it like being married?” Aelin asked.

Dorian shrugged. “Not much different, but I know have to spend the rest of my life with you.”

“Yes, but I’m fantastic.” Aelin grinned.

Dorian stopped and brought her hand to his lips. “Of course you are my dear.”

Aelin watched him kiss her hand. “You sound sarcastic.”

The prince pulled her to him, pressing their bodies flush. “Never in my life have I been more serious.”

“You’re a shameless flirt.” She chastised, but her heart wasn’t in it.

“Unapologetically.” Dorian tapped her nose with his own.

Aelin’s gaze dropped to his lips, just centimetres from her own. She slowly, so slowly, brought them so she was kissing him.

When she moved to deepen the kiss, Dorian groaned, taking her face in his hands and backing her onto the bed.

They spent the night doing the things married couples usually do. Thankfully Chaol wasn’t there to get in the middle of it this time.

Aelin woke up sore and warm. It took a couple of seconds to realise it was because Dorian’s arms were wrapped around her waist. She carefully shifted around to face him.

His inky hair was soft as she brushed it back from his forehead, mussed from her running her figures through it last night, fading pink scratches marred his biceps.

Dorian groaned as he opened his eyes. “It’s too early for this.”

“For what?” Aelin asked.

Dorian did a double take as he remembered the night previously.

The Princess of Terrasen- his wife- looked back at him, golden hair spread around her shoulders, the green eyes rimmed in gold looking back at him.

“I thought you were Chaol.”

“And why would Chaol be in your bed?” Aelin questioned.

“No, that’s not what I meant.” He groaned, flopping back. “I thought he’d woken me up.”

“By brushing the hair out of your face?”

Dorian grabbed the pillow and lightly hit Aelin in the face with it. She laughed, and wacked his bare chest.

“Ow.”

“It’s a pillow, it doesn’t hurt.”

Dorian sat up, a shit eating grin on his face. “Want to test that theory princess?”

Aelin scrambled for the other side of the bed, giggling. “No.”

Dorian grinned as he crawled, naked, across to her. “Come here wife.” He pinned her to the mattress.

Aelin shuddered. Dorian grinned, kissing her deeply.

He just got ready to take her again when the door was banged against.

“Who is it?” Aelin called.

“Me.”

“Go away Chaol.” She yelled back.

“You two need to leave for your honeymoon.”

Dorian groaned. Great.

Aelin slipped out from under him and started getting dressed. “Just think, two weeks with no Chaol.”

That snapped Dorian to attention, as he hurried to get in his clothes.

Once they were ready they walked out, hand in hand.

They’d chosen to go to one of the family’s beach front houses, there was a small town near it that Dorian claimed did the best seafood.

Both the Galathyniuses and the Havilliards gathered to wave goodbye to the newlyweds.

They set off in the carriage, smiling nervously at each other, at this new life.

That last line was really cringy. Sorry.

[mercy-thompson-fanfiction]

Hey! I really like your Alpha and Omega fics. You said that you take requests so if you ever have time could you write an alternate universe fic where Charles gets to spend some time courting Anna instead of immediately taking her to Montana (which is something he mentioned wanting to do in On The Prowl)

“No, you definitely cannot do that.”

Samuel’s voice was boiling over with amusement on the other end of the phone call as Charles described his predicament.

“And da said what?”

“Send her to Adam.” Charles closed his eyes, thoroughly defeated by the sound of his brother’s cackling laughter and his own predicament.

Over the moon infatuated, that’s what he was. He couldn’t get the look in her eyes out of his mind when he told her that he would be back. It was killing him not to already be back, but there were things to sort out and paperwork to handle now that Leo and Isabella were dead.

Anna. Brother Wolf reminded him of her name, as if he could forget any piece of her that she’d share. Mate.

“What does my sister-in-law want?” Samuel was laying this on thick for his benefit.

And yet, was good to hear him laughing. It put Charles at ease just as much as it put him on edge.

What did Anna want? He had only asked her a million times. She didn’t want to stay in Chicago, even with Boyd she was—not broken. Anna wasn’t broken.

She was hurting.

A pang of guilt struck him for having left her, but it was just as much for her benefit. The Omega settled the wolf, but Charles was finding the man a problem which was not something he was used to dealing with.

Gut instinct told him to take her with him. Anna was hurting and anxious in a pack that had caused her harm before. When he ran the idea by his da, he’d received a goofy grin—he could hear it in his voice—and a reminder that creating a situation where she was entirely dependent on him was manipulative and, given the circumstances, cruel. Same issue caused the next best thing (furnishing her apartment and putting food on the table) to be shot down. He got by with getting her a better job, but that had been against his father’s advice as well.

Because somehow being the reason she got the job was also detrimental to her mental health and general well-being. His brother had only just agreed with everything he had already had thrown back in his face by their shared parent.

“Don’t tell me you didn’t ask her?”

Charles had asked, and that was part of the dilemma, too. She hadn’t been in a good mind space when he’d suggested coming to Montana and then she had felt guilted into it. When she felt confident enough a few hours later, she brought it up again and said she might like to stick around a little longer.

Take a trip out to her family now that her nightmare was over.

That she didn’t want to stay in Boyd’s pack longer than she had to, but that following blindly just because he told her how he felt didn’t put her any more at ease.

“I don’t think, at this time, that she is of sound enough mind to make a decision like that.” Charles said finally. “And she feels she would like to learn a little more about it all before she jumps headfirst again. They kept many secrets from her. And that’s how it stands.”

“You mean to do this properly then,” His brother was definitely still grinning. “Da is right. Adam’s would be safest.”

Adam would be safest. Of course, there were still plenty of downsides. Adam was relatively recently divorced and unmated, so he was entirely unspoken for. Charles didn’t think Anna would find that to be a problem, but he certainly felt it was going to be a problem. Adam Hauptman was, as he understood it, not at all unattractive.

There was also the matter of that wolf there who had unsavory problems, Charles thought his name might have been Ben. Ben lived there, that was one to look out for.

Then there was his brother who Charles suspected wasn’t quite well, though his energy in this conversation suggested otherwise.

The image was already forefront on his mind of Samuel sitting far too close to Anna for Charles’ own comfort. He bit his tongue to keep from growling at the thought of Samuel’s arm around her in a vision that hadn’t even happened.

There was rustling on the other end of the line.

“Everything ok?” Charles came back down to earth for the moment.

“Can’t ever find anything in Mercy’s place. I’m not sure how she survived before I started putting forks back in their proper utensil slots.” Samuel snorted.

That explained the metallic clinking he was hearing, then.

And it also reminded him of another precarious detail about Adam’s and what sending Anna there entailed.

Mercy. Aptly named, if you looked at those whose lives she had touched, except maybe his brother’s.

“Where would she live?” Charles sighed finally, giving in.

They were both right. Adam’s would be safest short term, even if he wanted Aspen Creek to be best for her. He did hope it would be short term.

Samuel hummed some tune that Charles recognized innately but blocked out with his own thoughts.

“She could bunk with Mercy. Small room, but it might do her good to have a female roommate.”

“Mercy doesn’t do well with female wolves,” Rather, most female wolves didn’t do well with Mercy. “It would be impolite to ask her to put one up in her home.”

Charles suspected that might have been Leah’s doing and not Mercy’s own ability to get under everyone’s skin in a lovably, very-coyote fashion. Nonetheless, it would make Mercy uncomfortable.

And this was of course forgetting that Mercy was already sharing in more ways than one. Samuel had stolen her spare room and Adam shared her back fence.

Asking for more of her was in poor taste.

“Adam’s is out of the question even for a little?” Samuel tried. “He has a daughter she might like, you said she’s young. Adam would give her plenty of space and he wouldn’t step on toes.”

It didn’t matter if he wouldn’t “step on toes” so to speak. Charles would feel like his toes were being stepped on, regardless.

“If she was ok with it, maybe.” That was a lie and even over the phone his brother knew it and laughed, but this time it didn’t sound quite right.

Charles would circle back to that later when he had time to consider it.

“If you’re worried she can be stolen, maybe try wooing her a little better, brother.”

“Isabelle liked Adam.” Because his brain supplied the information.

Samuel laughed again, but this time for real.

“Isabelle would have taken any wolf with a heartbeat to her bed.” That was true, too. “If she hadn’t tried to sleep with him, I understand that she and Christy may have gotten along.”

Apparently, Samuel was calling to mind the same incident.

He was stuck at square one again.

“What do you want me to suggest?” Samuel sighed, but then he added, “Adam has a wolf who calls herself Honey. Her mate, Peter, is submissive. She could feel safe there.”

Charles knew Honey. She and Peter both were old, submissive wolves tended to live long lives, and they’d crossed paths a few times.

“Would Adam suggest it?” Charles questioned, thinking about the possibility very seriously.

There were boxes to check before they could even get that far. The Tri-Cities weren’t the perfect spot as far as location accessibility, but he could pull off the commute. He would happily pull off the commute for Anna’s sake.

Samuel said something along the lines of “probably” while Charles was lost momentarily in thought. Somewhere on the other end of the call was the distinct sound of a key scraping into a lock and the familiar “click” of said lock releasing before a door opened.

“Do you always lock Mercy out of her own home?” Charles asked just as Samuel was greeting his roommate.

Mercy stilled, he could tell without being in the room because he suddenly didn’t hear her. Any phone call he had with his brother was done intentionally when Samuel was either in the car or Mercy wasn’t home. She was prone to be a little skittish, their coyote.

Or, if he were being honest, she was more prone to being angry.

“Charles called to tell me some great news,” For all intents and purposes, Samuel sounded incredibly casual and unbothered by Mercy’s clear discomfort.

“Which is?” Mercy sounded not the least bit interested, but at least she took the bait.

“Family reunion, Mercy,” His brother told her. “Charles wants us to meet the new sister-in-law.”

Closing his eyes, Charles tried not to wonder if the kiss he had just heard was on the lips or on the forehead. It could go either way with Samuel and it wasn’t a relationship he needed all the information on in this moment. In fact, he was actively trying to stay out of it and hoped his father knew what he was doing.

They’d almost lost him already. Mercy might be a death sentence.

“Oh, Mercy, it’ll be like the good old days!”

Mercy had groaned.

Were there any good old days? Charles thought wryly about the crashed car and the peanut butter. There was the time she’d forgotten to close the pasture gate. Couldn’t forget the mystery of the missing left shoes. The disaster that was his father discovering Samuel and Mercy’s plot to run away—Charles still wondered where Samuel thought he would be able to disappear to that they couldn’t find him fast enough. Once upon a time, she had numbered no less than thirty-four toy ducks. There might have been more than thirty-four—they were currently numbered up to 1076, but they doubted there were that many. Only thirty-four were discovered.

Charles had been almost disappointed in Mercy at the time when he learned that they hadn’t been real ducks.

There was, of course, the Watergate Scandal. That might’ve been a “good old day”, he supposed with a small smile. The three of them had laughed, at the very least. Hundreds of tiny cups of water peppered the floor like little landmines. Mercy had started the trail at the front door and meticulously covered the entire home, including the basement stairs. They were pretty sure she exited over the garage and hopped down off the roof there, but Charles himself had never asked.

Leah’s scream of frustration could have been heard for miles when she came home the following morning. His father had come straight home from his business trip to see what the fuss was and to make Mercy clean it up. The Marrok then proceeded in through an upper story window thinking the water was only blocking the door.

He was wrong.

Charles and Samuel had helped Mercy clean up that prank. They might have indirectly been involved with the acquisition (and storage) of the millions of cups.

Memories of Mercedes were a strange combination of fond recollections of innocent pranks and then reminders of her delicate mortality and trusting nature. Those that fell into the latter category made him grit his teeth and wonder how none of them had succumbed to heart attacks or aneurysms. Surely, the frequency at which they’d had them should be deadly even to werewolves.

“Are the good old days in the room with us?”

Charles found himself hiding a smile from no one. He was alone in his home after all.

“We’ve had plenty of good times.” Was that an intentional double entendre or was Charles reading too deeply into a circumstance he still didn’t understand?

He couldn’t decide and thought maybe it would be best if he didn’t try and work that one out. He would come to learn more than he necessarily wanted to know if this all came to fruition.

“Wait, did you say ‘sister-in-law?’”

***

Very little went according to plan, as was typical with Mercedes Thompson. It was only a few weeks later that Charles found himself in the car with Anna on their way to Mercy’s trailer home.

Apparently, years of emotional abuse from the Marrok’s mate had not dampened her desire to help when someone needed it—even when that someone was a female werewolf.

“Oh, so she’s your sister!” Anna smiled brightly.

Charles’ heart warmed. He loved it when she smiled, the way her eyes seemed to sparkle and the edges crinkled upwards. She stuck her tongue between her front teeth sometimes, when she was trying not to laugh, and it was so obvious she was laughing anyways. It made him want to laugh aloud just from watching her.

“She might not like that comparison,” He shouldn’t have been smiling, but hers was so contagious. “Mercy didn’t have an easy time in Aspen Creek.”

That was maybe saying the least. He was sure Anna, of all people, would be able to get the story out of Mercy. Charles was an adult watching Mercy grow up, fairly complicit in how she was being raised. With Bryan and Evelyn, it had been ok, Mercy had grown up as normally as a coyote in a wolf pack could.

But then things had happened. Circumstances had changed. Lives were lost and Mercy was left stranded somewhere in the middle.

“And your brother doesn’t think of her the same way?”

“I don’t know what he thinks.” Charles admitted as honestly as he could. “Theirs is a unique history.”

Maybe not that unique, Charles thought while casting a sideways glance at her. Anna herself was little more than a child when she had undergone the Change against her will under horrifically traumatic circumstances. That was only a few short years ago and the years hadn’t proven kind to her in the least bit.

It was partly that reason, he supposed, that they were doing this—that he had even agreed to this. It wasn’t the age gap that upset him, theirs was tame by the standard of some others. It was the dynamic.

Charles didn’t consider himself a saviour by any stretch of the imagination and, truth be told, Anna had entirely saved herself from her biggest monsters. But she was fresh out of a situation where she had been intentionally made to feel weaker, to feel dependent on someone’s kindness, to cater to someone because of the dependency. He would be playing a dangerous game keeping her fed with a roof over her head, most especially in a town off the beaten path where she knew no one but him.

Safe. Mine.

Yes, he thought, very dangerous.

“And Mercy is a coyote, but you don’t know really how she is?” Anna recapped.

Not entirely, and he explained as much. Charles knew there used to be plenty of people like Mercy. He had met, he thought, at least one. Although, they hadn’t been a coyote.

He definitely would have known.

But he didn’t know what she was beyond the idea that others had once existed. Seemingly, the knowledge had disappeared with the people who would have held it.

There was a wave of sadness at the thought, one that Anna washed away with her own tsunami of peace.

“You said at home the spirits sometimes speak to you,” Anna began. “That they like you? They didn’t tell you what she is?”

“It would seem,” Charles smiled a little fondly at a memory of a coyote pup disappearing into the surrounding woods for a disastrously long and successful (for Mercy) game of hide-and-seek. “That they like her more.”

They turned, finally, upon the road Mercy’s home was on according to the address Samuel had sent.

It was one Charles already knew like the back of his hand. He had Mercy’s number memorized, too, if you asked him to recite it—both her shop and her cell.

And he’d throw in Margi’s for good measure if Anna were asking.

It wasn’t until they had parked that Charles realized that Anna had been the only person he had ever confided in about Mercy. It was possible even the coyote herself didn’t know how he felt about her. Samuel had always been the one to love kids. As he grew older, certainly as decades turned into centuries, Charles had come to assume that key part of his brother’s nature was why he’d taken to him despite all their centuries difference in age. Mercy, knowing her from practically-birth to sixteen and then even longer from afar…

He had come to realize sometimes the age difference in a family didn’t matter. Mercy was as much his sister as Samuel was a brother, even if she weren’t blood.

And—maybe most importantly—Anna wasn’t jealous.

Charles knew Anna was able to feel that way about him, and it had been incredibly satisfying to come to know it even if he discovered it at possibly the most inopportune time.

“Does Mercy know anything about me?” Anna asked him before they cut the engine.

She didn’t sound nervous, but her pulse had quickened and the adrenaline kicked in giving away her fear.

“She knows you’re important to me.” Charles tried to veil his frustration with the way his own brother had introduced the concept of Anna without ever speaking of her as a person by name. “And, through no fault of my own, she believes us to be dating.”

Or married.

“Well,” And she at least sounded amused now as her freckles nearly blended into her undeniably blushing cheeks. “We did go on one date, so I guess it could qualify us as dating.”

One date which had ended incredibly poorly with an attempt on his life which had fortunately missed but caused them to quickly return to her home and regroup before meeting Leo and his poor-shot of a mate.

“We could try again,” Charles suggested, “While I’m here.”

Anna smiled, tongue between her teeth because he himself had made her heart skip a beat.

“Yeah? I’d like that, I think.”

Even over the engine and outside the home, he could hear his brother’s cackle.

[enhastolemyheart]

BEAUTIFUL — PARK SUNGHOON

pairing. non-idol!sunghoon x gn!reader

genre. est. relationship, college au, summer au

synopsis. with finals being over, all you wanted was your comfy boyfriend.

warning(s). profanity, reader and hoon are uni students , lowercase intended, use of petnames,

word count. 0.5k

a/n. I was watching some enha 'so so fun' clips on yt shorts and jus randomly thought of this idea saurr here it is!! it's been a while since I've posted, hasn't it? I've been saur busy with school like we have exams like almost every week but im still trying to keep up with my writing. I really hope this came out good, pls lmk!! taglist us open and so are requests! enjoy readingg

finally.

school's over, and summer has started. finally.

you were walking home from the subway to your apartment, your comfy bed and pretty boyfriend waiting for you at your humble abode. sunhhoon wanted to stay over at your place after finals were done because now you have the time of your lives.

you head bobs to the music resonating in your over-the-head headphones, jazzy tunes playing. hands wrapped around your backpack strap. you and so many plans for the summer. first thing was to visit your family back in your hometown with sunghoon, and luckily enough, his parents only live a few streets away so you both planned to meet his parents as well, maybe even have a mini get together.

as you get into the elavator, excitement buzzed in your veins. the thought of finally having to spend some time with your boyfriend is something you wanted for a while now. studying in different universities was hard. he was majoring in science while you in buisness. due to having finals around the same time. you couldn't meet each other for more than two weeks. yeah of course, messaging and facetiming was a thing but being in your third year really put your head in the books for the last two months of the final semester. and now, you say that it payed off in the end, because here you are with a smile on your face, content with how the exam went.

you walk into your place with open arms, wanting to hug hoon as soon as you saw him, but to your knowledge he wasn't there. not in the living room, or the kitchen, or the bedroom. with a slight pout you turn to the bathroom to see if he was there and bingo, he was. looks like he just finished showering.

after he comes out, for some reason, he doesn't see you when he walks past you, into your shared bedroom, humming a random tune. you let out a small pout and follow in his footsteps.

"Hoon, I'm home. did you not see me?"

he gets lightly startled upon seeing you, "i thought you were coming late 'cause of your exam..."

"well, they let us out early," you reason as you watch him retrieve the hair dryer from the dresser, taking a seat on the floor in front of your full length mirror.

"how did the exam go, love?" he pulls you towards him, causing you to loose your footing, making you fall on top of him, your turned into a giggling mess and sunghoon couldnt help but also laugh, dimples making a display.

"it went really well. I'm happy."

"that's good to hear."

you hum as you take the electronic device in your hands, plugging it in and and getting comfortable on his lap. you dry his for him, brushing your fingers through his locks gently. he sighs in contentment before wrapping his arms around your waist more tightly pressing his chin to your chest before looking at you in the eyes.

"you're beautiful."

he always knew how to make your face go red. he loved see you in that shade.

"shut up hoon."

"thank you beautiful." he says after you finish blow drying his hair.

and you both spent the rest of the night, having some take out, maybe even a little it of making out, ending the chill night with some much needed cuddles.

a/n - tysm for reading guys! i honestly dk what the point of this drabble is, I smth in my mind but it did not work out. I've been sick to the point where i couldn't walk properly, heh- anyways tyvm for reading and again, requests are open!

networks. @hyfenet

perm taglist: @jak-ey , @snoowhore , @hsgwrld , @seungiesluv , @1-800shutthefuckup

[chronicbeans]

Vampire King Simon AU

OKAY SO I GOT THIS IDEA-

Basically, the main part of this is that an AU version of Betty (basically, a non OG universe version of her that was able to get to Prismo) ended up making a wish to try to save Simon. She assumed that simply wishing for the crown to not exist wouldn't work. So, she wished for the crown to not turn Simon into the Ice King.

Well, if you couldn't tell from the title, he wasn't turned into the Ice King. He got turned into that world's version of the Vampire King.

Okay, so, Simon in this universe remembers a few aspects about himself: His name is Simon Petrikov, Betty is his fiancé, and he also remembers some of the dates he went on with Betty and key moments in their relationship (such as the incident at the bus and how they met). Besides that, he doesn't remember anything. He especially doesn't remember what it was like to be human... which results in him not having much sympathy for humans.

Instead of the crown simply driving him into madness, since that would make him too close to the Ice King for it to be considered fulfilling Betty's wish properly, the crown simply pushes Simon's worst personality traits to the forefront of his entire personality. Such as the fact that many people have been pointing out his subconscious selfish behaviors (again, the bus incident, where he wasn't willing to go with Betty and instead had Betty come with him. She chose to, but he simply never took into account how much she gave up in those moments). Instead of that selfishness being subconscious, he's now very aware of it and actively being selfish. Other traits, such as obsessiveness, clumsiness, and his need to think everything through have been amplified. He's more outwardly obsessive (especially over Betty), more clumsy, and he needs to plan everything to an extreme degree (sometimes putting off things for weeks in order to make it perfect. The obsessive trait also worsens this).

Push comes to shove, and he ends up turning Betty into a vampire. His reasoning being that, well, they're fiancés and since he's a vampire, she needs to be one, too, so that he won't outlive her and any other vampires won't harm her. (Basically the worst version of "we'll be together forever" possible) Then, needless to say, she doesn't like how her wish turned out, but can't do anything about it. They eventually end up adopting Marceline, with Simon being the one to turn her in this universe. The entire time they're raising her, Betty is trying to get her to be more sympathetic to humanity and to stop the vampires from killing them all, while Simon is essentially trying to get her to become the Vampire Universe version of Marceline.

I also made little concept doodles- they're messy as all heck but that's just what concept doodles are! (Also don't mind the writing I basically write all my AU ideas and design notes in my sketchbook as I draw so AAAAAA-) I plan to make better sketches of them, especially Betty and Marceline, later on.

[kithtaehyung]

Hi! I’m not usually one to leave comments, but I feel compelled to after re-reading 3Tan this past week. Over time I’ve read each instalment/chapter and have always enjoyed the story, your characterizations, all of it, but it wasn’t until I read them all closely together that I realized just how talented you are as a story teller. There was so much I missed the first time around and in reading them again I’m able to fully appreciate your work. There are so many little clues and snacks you left for us readers along the way, that made the payoffs so so SO satisfying. Really really excellent work! It’s been such a treat going on this journey that you’ve crafted and even more of a feast when you read it for the second and eventually third… fourth… fifth times. I know I’m not alone when I say I’m so excited to see what happens next to our 3Tan couple and can’t wait for them both to get the happiness they both clearly deserve, that only they can give to each other and themselves. And thank you for this wonderful story.

i had this in my drafts for so long because i wanted to properly respond instead of coming up with a quick response so here it is:

thank you. so much🫂❤️‍🩹 i hope you’re still around to see this since it’s been a couple weeks, but just know that i’ve been reading this ask over and over for comfort and encouragement, especially while wading into the dark waters of 3tan fugue. you have no idea how much this means to me.

what’s great about this universe is that there’s so much, and yet, there’s still plenty more we can explore and uncover. like a map that we can either explore again and again to find new things, or expand and realize that there’s a whole load of land ahead🍊 and I’m ready to keep going again and let you all into some new—albeit a little daunting—territory.

i’m very glad you have seen what’s been left in these current chapters, too! getting to see you all notice things that you didn’t catch before makes me so happy, because it does show that same level of investment that i have and means that y’all are reading reading! like that’s commitment🗯️🗯️

super excited, super nervous, and will always be thankful for everyone that’s here🥳 you’re very kind to say all this, so thank you again and I appreciate the hell out of you!