#it sounds so powerful and vast but so melancholic too

[v-iv-rusty]

I havent even progressed in rw past garbage wastes but man. random gods is one of the most songs ever

[sayafics]

Envious Cravings

This is my first time writing smut, so I hope I did okay :)

Criston Cole x Targaryen!OC x voyeur!Daemon Targaryen

Part 2

Masterlist

Daemon walked leisurely down the corridor, his footsteps echoing down the empty halls. He had left Rhaenyra asleep, too worn out by the ordeals of the night - their dinner had been a failure, Aemond and Aegon had riled up Jace and Luke and then humiliated them as though they were nothing but the scum on the bottom of their shoes.

Daemon let his thoughts wander for a moment, past his obsessions, and past his loyalties - the boys were bastards, yes. But they were Rhaenyra's sons.

They were also unskilled and untrained.

They fell into submission under the brutal hands of Aemond and the drunken grasp of Aegon with ease.

These boys claimed to be dragons, but the wavering bravery of sheep ran through their blood instead.

He bit his cheek in frustration, unsure of where he was going as he deliberated such realisations.

Rhaenyra's children were bethrothed to his own, and so if they were to unite as one, then one day, Daemon's blood would sit upon the throne of the Seven Kingdoms and become Lord of the Tides.

It seemed like everything he had always wanted. It seemed like the desires that had set him alight all those decades ago were slowly becoming true.

And yet, in the light of who his children would marry - weak and spineless boys in comparison to the fair-headed Hightower spawns - he found himself swamped with bother and doubt.

How would they fair as a King and as a Lord?

How would they fare as a husband? As a father? As a protector?

They fail to protect even their own reputations, they allow their names to become sullied by the whispers of the Kingdom and refute to take a stance against them - hiding behind their mother's full figure like babes who still suck upon a bosom, instead of the men they ought to be.

There was a sour taste upon his tongue as he reluctantly admitted to himself that the Hightower boys had the power Rhaenyra's children did not.

Although they were all half-blooded Targaryens, the dragon's breath ran strong through the Hightower heirs.

And yet the throne would go to Rhaenyra, and though pure-blooded she may be, her children were not.

At least not the ones she shared with a long and dead Ser Harwin Strong.

He clicked his teeth, mind reeling as a puddle of confusion and frustration began to pool over.

Daemon looked around him, eyes frantic in search for a distraction - for something, someone he could let his frustrations out upon.

Perhaps a knight he could duel and bury the hilt of his sword within.

Perhaps a maiden he could roughen and have his way with.

Little guilt washed over him at that point, his mind fogged with the prospects of his future. Of the future of his daughters, in the hands of boys instead of men.

Daemon came across an empty corridor, vast and deep leading down into his old chambers from his days as a young man when his father was still brazen and breathing.

He looked upon the hall in sadness now, a melancholic hue that melted into confusion as he realised the halls rang empty of life - of knights.

Did no one live amongst these corridors any longer? Still, with the vast size of the Keep, all halls should remain occupied - for the safety of the King.

He wandered down the corridor, wanting to see how dismal the place had become in his absence. Wanting to see if the disease of the Seven had reached his chambers and swamped them over.

Daemon searched for a twinge of life within the corridor, a whisper of a being, a shadow of a creature.

But the corridor was quiet and bare, as though Alicent had deemed it unworthy of dignifying with her banners and trinkets.

Dsemon scoffed under his breath at the thought, but the sound was cut off by another - shallow and soft.

It sounded again, now desperate against the silence which echoed around him.

And again.

And again.

A woman. A young woman, who seems to have been on the brink of pleasure.

The sound rang again, breathy and rasped as though she had been screaming for hours now in search of an insatiable pleasure.

Daemon felt his cock twitch at the sound, the desperate moans causing him to reel further in search of the source.

He came to a stop in front of a familiar set of doors - his old chambers.

He thinks he should be angry, digusted that a maid or servant would use his room and sully it with their lust in his absence. But he simply holds his breath as he leans closer towards the door.

The moans are clearer now, as are the frenzied whispers of the girl- "please. Ple- don't stop~ oh, more."

In between such sinful pleas, Daemon hears the drawn-out groans of a man - was this a maiden and a knight? Sneaking away from their nightly duties to bask in the pleasures of a nefarious act?

Oh, how he could barge through those doors right now. How he could send fear shooting down their spines and have their faces flush with shame instead of pleasure. How he could join the knight in his wicked games and make the quiet maid come undone with his deft fingers, skillful tongue and thick cock.

Oh, how he could.

But Rhaenyra.

He clenches his eyes shut against the thought - what little guilt he believed existed alone now began to build.

Fine.

He would not join.

But what was the harm in watching.

Daemon steps back from the door, his footfalls soft and his moves almost silent. He makes his way to a ridge within the walls he knows too well, prying them open with practised ease.

He slips into the dark embrace of the tunnels who welcome him with glee, as though he had only now returned home.

Daemon makes his way through the tunnels, following the path he memorised during his youth. It did not take long before he heard the moans in earnest, heard the girl become desperate and frantic under the relentless possession of a man starved.

Daemon's hand brushed against the border of the painting, which concealed the tunnels from the chambers that were once his.

He pushed it open carefully, the slow and whining creak barely audible over the sound of the girl's mewls and the man's praises.

His eyes scanned the room first, making sure no others were about whom could warn the vivacious lovers of his ill-attention.

The first thought that washed over him was how different his old chambers looked now - splattered in such a feminine touch that it had almost lost every essence to which made the chambers Daemon's.

Lavish furs and pillows, drapes of satins and silk, carpentry made of the rarest of materials and most expensive paints and polishes.

This was not the room Daemon recalled - not the childhood he had left.

A drawn-out wail pulled his attention away, his eyes now landing on the bed.

Amusement flickered across his features, a laugh of incredulity almost escaping him as he watched the scene unfold in front of him.

Laying on a bed of ivory fur, her figure nude and her hair laid astrewn, was his young niece - Visenya Targaryen.

But that was not what had surprised him - after all, he had pursued Rhaenyra in her youth. Should he have seen Aemond or Aegon ravishing her beneath her satin sheets, he would not have blinked an eye.

But no.

Instead, laying contently between her legs and feasting upon her sweet cunt was the Queen's most trusted Shield - Ser Criston Cole.

Daemon almost laughed, he wanted to walk into the room and humiliate the pair. But his cock twitched painfully at the sight in front of him - he hardened within his pants as he watched the pair with shallow breaths.

Visenya had her legs thrown over the knight's shoulders, thighs almost crushing his head as her fingers tugged at his dark locks.

Criston was almost as desperate in his movements as she was in her sounds, her hips rising with every swipe and lick as he held her down, his fingers pressing harshly into the softness of her thighs.

Criston's eyes were closed in bliss, his tongue laving through her folds and he circled her clit and suckled upon it. Visenya bit her lip, tears streaming down her face as she ground her bare cunt across Criston's fluttering tongue.

Criston lifted his head from between her thighs, littering kisses across her thighs - "fuck, you taste so good Princess."

He trailed kisses up her form, her arousal coating his lips and chin as he presses a firm kiss upon her lips. Visenya moans at the tangy taste, pushing her tongue into his mouth and drinking him in.

Daemon's hand brushed over his covered cock, touching himself from his hidden place.

Criston's fingers skimmed down her waist, fingers hovering over her cunt as she canted towards him, whines slipping past her lips.

"Please, touch me. I need you."

Daemon's hands slipped into his breaches, her breathy whines more than enough to have his cock begin to leak all over his hands. He swiped at the pre-cum, gathering it to spread across his twitching cock as he held it in a vice grip. He tugged at his length, his moves slow as he imagined his cock in the place of Criston's hand.

Criston gave into her fervored whispers, his fingers meeting her weeping cunt as he swiped across her entrance to her clit. He circled her clit lightly as Visenya clenched her eyes in frustration, she reached a hand down to pull him closer but Criston was stronger.

He placed fervent kisses across her neck, tracing his way across her body to her breasts. He mouthed at them, kissing and biting as his fingers began to circle her clit faster.

Visenya's back arched from the bed, her hands finding Criston's locks with aching desperation as she pulled him back towards her - "I need more."

Criston placed his head against hers, sighing softly into her parted lips, "my love, you know I cannot."

"You can. You simply do not wish to."

Her whispers sounded hurt, and for a moment, Criston stopped his gentle touches to sit back on his haunches and look at the girl.

"I do. You know I do. I would take you now if I could, but I would not risk your life like that."

Visenya sat up on the bed, eyes stinging as she spoke - "you mean, you would not risk my value. For what gain does a princess hold, if her cunt has been used by another."

Daemon rolled his eyes at that, his hand still within his breaches, and his body still tingling with pleasure as he watched the scene unfold in burning disinterest.

"Do not say that. You are worth more than anything- than anyone. You are all I seek, all I need."

"Then why will you not have me?"

Tears had welled up within her eyes now, trailing softly down her flushed cheeks as she looked at him pleadingly.

Daemon's brows quirked in interest, now this was fascinating. How the knight so easily denied the Princess' wishes, he did not know.

Daemon was sure if he had been there, feasting upon the delight between her thighs, he would have granted her every wish and every desire with no thought of the consequences.

Criston wanted to reach out, brush away her tears, and hold her tightly within his arms. But he was bound by his duties, and he was already spitting upon the vows he had made.

He had made his vows to Alicent, had promised his allegience to the Queen, and yet here he was struggling to not give all of himself to her daughter.

"Because I am not good enough for you. I am not worth something so precious and so pure. Because I am tainted and you are not."

"Then ruin me."

It was a whisper. An order. A demand and a plea.

Princesses did not beg, but perhaps this was the closest Visenya would get.

Criston looked into her eyes, searching for the assurance he needed. But he did not have much time to deliberate, as the shy and timid princess became coy as she crawled across the bed and into his lap.

She threw her legs onto either side of his hips, fingers dancing over his bare arms and watching gooseflesh break under her touch. Visenya dragged her nails across the flesh of his shoulders, admiring the way his eyes closed as he tried to hold himself back, the way his head tilted back and his breaths came to a whining stop.

For a moment, Daemon wished it was him sat under the girl. Wished that it was his skin marked by her, his pleas groaned into her ear, his hands upon her waist.

For a moment, Daemon forgot all about Rhaenyra and found himself lusting after Visenya.

"I cannot. If your mother was to find out, she-"

"She will not. It is only us here. Our secret. Our promise."

"I cannot."

"Criston."

His name was a pretty whine from her lips, and his eyes opened to meet her own that were wide and dark with lust. He leaned close to her, his lips brushing over her own as they gasped into each other - "one day."

"Today."

"One day. Soon, my love. I promise."

Visenya gave in, as she always did. Hot tears were tracking down her face as she kissed Criston with all the passion and love she was forced to hide from lingering eyes and suspicious gazes.

Criston grasped her face, his wretched desires making him so desperate to touch her, to hold her, to know that she is here within his arms and has not been shipped away to another Lord in a city too far to reach.

Visenya shifted, she gasped a delighted sound into the space between Criston's tender lips as her hips ground against his.

Criston threw his head back with a groan, "yes, that's a good girl. You're doing so good - so perfect, feels so good."

He nuzzled his head into the crook of her neck, biting and suckling the flesh there as his hands gripped her hips tightly and ground them against his.

From his place in the shadows, Daemon's desires began to burn once more as Visenya let out endless moans, wrapping her arms around Criston's neck as she moved in earnest.

There was no materials between them now, her bare cunt brushed against his hardened cock until there was a puddle of arousal settled between them. Still, they paid the mess no mind - lost in the gratification they felt in that moment.

Daemon's hand tightened around his length once more, pumping faster and harder as he watched Visenya come closer to the edge. He panted into the darkness, sweat beading on the back of his neck as he forced his eyes to stay focused on the trembling and whining girl.

"That's it," Criston whispered, "come on, cum for me, sweet girl. I know you can. Cum for me, just for me."

It seems those words were enough to throw her over the edge, wrapping her arms tighter around Criston's neck as a sharp cry escaped her.

Criston's moves became sloppy, his hips rutting up to meet hers and grinding against her flesh as he chased his own climax. He came with a rough groan, softly grinding their hips together as they rode out their orgasm.

Visenya whimpered, feeling sensitive but not wanting the shocks of pleasure that rumbled through her to stop.

She was about to pull away from Criston, ready to fall back in her bed and pull his body towards hers so he could hold her until dawn.

Instead, a quiet groan caught her attention - one that did not come from the distracted man beneath her, rather directly ahead of her.

In the cracks of the shadows, she could see the tell-tale flash of a fair-headed Targaryen. Her shoulders stiffened, hands reaching to pet Criston's hair as he whimpered against her flesh and rutted against her in seek of another climax.

Was this Aegon? Perhaps it was Aemond?

If so, surely they would not reveal her dalliances to the Court? To their mother?

But then she saw a slip of skin - a hardened jaw, an angled face, a mischevious grin.

Something that could only belong to one person.

Daemon.

Daemon knew he was caught, but he was so deep - so close to the brink of release, he could not stop.

His eyes clenched shut, teeth gritted to stop his groans escaping him and informing the knight of his presence too.

His cock was pulled out of his breaches, his hand pumping faster and tighter and he rutted into his own palm and imagined Visenya's tight and virgin hole in its place.

His head hit the wall next to the painting with a silent thud, white streaks splattering across his hands and out of the tunnel to paint the luscious rugs beneath him with his essence.

He panted like a dog, one so starved and so hungry, as his violet eyes met the scared and timid gaze of his niece.

Criston had stopped his ministrations now, his head laying contently in the valley of her breasts as he rubbed circles into the flesh of her waist. She continued to pet his hair, but her horrified glare was fixed upon the gap behind the painted frame.

Daemon knows.

Daemon saw.

And Daemon had pleasured himself at the sight.

She was not sure what her next move should be.

What his next move could be.

But she knew she would have to fix this. Otherwise, she could lose the man she held gently in her arms so quickly.

Taglist: @marihoneywk @hangmanscoming

[crookedkryptonitebeliever]

Best and worst of both worlds (part 44)

Tw: mention of previous assault, yves being manipulative as always

Vote down below pls i will only consider first 21 votes

Part 45

To your surprise, Yves wheeled you into a room that you have never been in. Neither did you realize it existed on the ground floor.

You called it the music room. There is a grand piano in the center, with various other orchestra instruments in the corner and on the shelves. It was lit by none other than a chandelier. Yves loves his chandeliers.

You asked him if he played all the instruments present here. He nodded and you found that impressive, since the number of items in this room is mind boggling. You don't even know the names to some of these.

"Would you like me to play something for you?" He asked, locking your wheelchair in place.

You said you would like to see it.

He walked towards the harp, positioning the seat properly before sitting on it. His elegant fingers strummed against the strings masterfully as he played a melancholic tune that you weren't familiar with. However, it was beautiful and moving, the rises and dips in volume invoked some powerful feelings in your chest.

Yves seemed to be completely immersed in his performance, his eyes were closed and his lips were pressed into a neutral line. His movements were fluid and hypnotizing, making you watch without ever blinking.

He ends his piece with an elegant fade. Yves opened his emerald eyes to see you gaping your mouth at him. He stifled a laugh as he rose from his seat.

"Did you like it?" He asked, gently pushing your jaw up to close your mouth.

You said it was amazing, you asked what was he playing. Yves tilted his head to the side and pouted playfully.

"I thought you would have recognized it. I was playing a song that is very popular among your age groups."

You were adamant that you have never heard it before. It sounded like something that was written by an angel, it was unbelievably ethereal and sublime. You don't think modern-day music was of this calibre.

An amused smile made its way to his face.

"Well, I am happy that you loved my rendition of it."

But you were curious, what did he intend to play?

He tapped the side of his face and looked to the side as he tried to remember the name of it.

"It is something that your peers danced to. I have only heard fifteen seconds of it, but it was repeated ad nauseam."

You asked him if he heard the full song.

"No. I improvised the rest."

You were wracking your brain, trying to figure out what modern "popular song" did he just let you experience in a completely different light.

Then you asked how were the dances like.

"There was a vast array of variations. However, they shook their rears in front of the camera for all of them."

And the lyrics?

"The artist managed to refer to her supposedly... fat buttocks four times in that short segment. They were standard lyrics about emotional infidelity." Yves was describing it almost clinically, only when it comes to the cheating part did he look disgusted.

You think you know which song he was talking about now. You're dumbfounded at Yves talent to recreate it in such a way it's unrecognizably beautiful. Not to say that the original wasn't good, it was. It's just that you're impressed at how Yves's musical abilities allowed him to create such a masterpiece.

For the rest of the afternoon, you tried out most of his instruments. Yves taught you the basics without boring you to death, he was patient and understanding when you either couldn't grasp the control or you gave up for being too hard. You noted that the quality of his items are always exemplary, he takes good care of all his belongings.

Occasionally, he would nag about being mindful of your property. He wanted you to share the same mindset of prolonging the health and life of an object.

But you were having fun, even if you were bowing the strings of his Viola horrendously so, that it could make a musician's ear bleed. Yves is elated to spend so much time with you while sharing his own interests.

And most importantly, your head is not filled with redundant thoughts about your dependence on Yves. Both of you are free to relax and be happy in peace.

__

You scrolled through your social media feed mindlessly as you laid on the loveseat of his music room, your casted leg hanging off the armrest. Yves had to leave you alone so he could speak with the professionals regarding his air conditioning system.

Yves told you to use a special fob to control the speed of the fan. You left it off because it's not sweltering right now and you believed that you should not waste too much electricity.

There was the occasional tinkering and stomping as they worked hard to remedy the issue. Other than that, the environment is pretty quiet.

You received a notification that your assignment has been graded. You reviewed it and found that you achieved the highest score possible, it wasn't surprising because you have Yves to guide you throughout the entire--

Where are your crutches?!

The thought shot through your head and everything that you were procrastinating talking to Yves about came rushing in.

You have got to talk to Yves about moving out and going back to school. And also, the whereabouts of your stupid crutches.

Just when you're about to send Yves a text about it, so you won't forget, you heard a knock on the door.

Yves entered holding a cold glass of freshly pressed fruit juice. It was beading with condensation as he took large strides towards you.

You took large gulps of the refreshing beverage, not realizing how thirsty and overheated you were.

"My apologies, dear." Said Yves as he dabbed a wet cloth on your forehead and cheek to further cool you down. "There was an accident causing the breaker to trip. They also had to cut the power supplying the ducts in order to repair the faults, why didn't you use the fan?"

You said that it wasn't that warm and you didn't want to rack up his electricity bills. He has nothing to apologize about, it didn't even affect you.

You couldn't understand why Yves looked defeated, as if he's expecting something bad was about to happen. It isn't like you're going to die from a little heat, you're simply going to sweat and whine. That's all.

"That is very considerate of you, my love. However your comfort comes first. I do not want you to worry about anything. Please. I will always take care of you no matter what." He pressed the cool cloth against your neck, soaking up droplets of sweat. It almost seems... desperate.

You told him that you're grateful. Then changing the topic about your crutches and the idea of going back to university, so that you could catch up on your studies.

His shoulders sagged in devastation. Yves sighed, burying his face in a hand for a bit before instantly regaining his composure. Oh, how he wished that he could just... control everything.

You wonder what that reaction was about. But you deem it unimportant in the end.

He switched the fan on to circulate the air in the room. You feel relief when the wind hits your face.

"(name)..." He called you quietly, crossing his arms over his chest. Yves squatted down to your level and looked you deep in the eyes. "Are you sure?" Yves spoke in a voice that sent uncertainty through your bones. You could feel an undertone of warning too.

You gulped and stammered under his scrutinizing gaze. You suddenly felt small and helpless, just like how when you first met him. Except, now it's much worse. Because you value his views on you a lot more.

Yet, you stood your ground. You noticed that you've been lacking a sense of agency ever since you got here. Yves wasn't treating you badly by any means, but subconsciously, you felt that there was something wrong. You felt like you were getting stuck in a trap that is slowly but surely killing you, and this is your attempt at clawing out of it.

No matter how much you tried to change the tone of the conversation to become lighter, Yves stayed there, unmoving, unsmiling and unblinking. He may not explicitly confirm it, but it is clear he is disapproving towards your desire to regain freedom.

You explained that you can get around with crutches, you need to go back to your old life- you can't stay like this forever, burdening Yves with your problems!

"You are not a burden to me, (name)." The seriousness of his intonation left no room for doubt that he was telling the truth. Deep down, you already knew it too, but you didn't like how he enjoyed taking care of you to this degree. It's as if he is intentionally incapacitating you so he could continue coddling you.

That wasn't a nice thought about someone who paid for your bills, housed and fed you. But it was a gut feeling that existed nonetheless.

You explained that you just wanted normalcy. Like how it was before your assault, where you would run from your own place to catch the bus. This sudden change in lifestyle is jarring and unnatural to you, it's stressing you out.

"It takes a minimum of eight weeks for your fracture to heal. You only rested for three, it is too early for you to start walking again." He explained, in a soft voice that sounded patronizing. You squirm under his unyielding and unsettling stare, he never stopped despite you showing painfully clear signs of discomfort.

You tried weakly arguing that you saw students move around the campus with a broken foot, they're using crutches and always arrived to class on time.

The room fell silent, save for the quiet whirring of the fan's propeller and the murmuring of the contractors.

Yves knew he was fighting a losing battle. But he tries, he tries to scare you into staying with him. Because he wasn't ready to let you go yet, not when he was spoiled with three weeks of uninterrupted bonding time with you. It is going to feel particularly excruciating when the luxury of being in close proximity to you is slashed tremendously.

So he waited. You were someone who associates silence and a stare as something terrible, hence he uses that against you. He calculated the chances of you backtracking or doubling down, and it was of equal probability.

You cower, feeling afraid and severely pressured even though Yves did nothing except appear menacing.

It is tempting to just dismiss everything and pretend like nothing happened, you could enjoy his pampering without a problem and let Yves take care of you like a delicate doll.

But... it's uncanny. You have never felt this strange towards a supposedly "good" thing. You will definitely have to participate in uncomfortable conversations with Yves, however, maybe the reward would outweigh the damages?

Using all your strength to temporarily push down the nauseating feeling of fear, you decided to choose a path.

[fujinstorm]

⚠️: Very light mention of death.

Us. [Q. Lucibello x Morgan]

The restaurant is full of life, patrons laughing and the sound of clicking dinnerware travell around the atmosphere, a shy twilight dancing with the first stars of the evening.

The detective wanted to ease the tension after almost not making it again. But that's not the only thing troubling their mind. A vampire who now took a piece of their heart is now claiming their thoughts.

On the quaint terrace, under the dim light of the lamps, Morgan, leaning in the doorway, lits a cigarette, the ember briefly illuminating her enigmatic expression.

"Hey, Lucibello", she says, the smoke curling around her almost whispering voice as she feels the obvious tension emanating from the detective crushing her nerves.

Lucibello turn, a melancholic smile tracing their lips. "Hey", they reply deflating a little.

Morgan finally steps outside, the faint flicker of the night dancing across her eyes as she approach the person who ignites a flame that she can't escape. Standing beside the detective, she looks at them, a coy concerned expression across the vampire's face.

"You okay?" she asks, a surprising soft tone that feels like a melody of inaudible thoughts.

Lucibello manage to chuckle nervously and nod, averting their eyes to the sky, as if the stars could ease their aching emotions. But Morgan can't be fooled, no one could be as the supernatural powers aren't needed to see that something is wrong.

"That's not convincing," Morgan presses, discarding the cigarette and stepping closer to the detective, the charged silence being a challenging task.

"I suppose not," Lucibello admit, their unsaid feelings making their shoulders drop. "I'm scared," they utter, the voice almost lost in the cool evening air.

A solemn silent takes place, a moment where Morgan finds the courage to let herself free of insecurities.

"I was too," Morgan confesses, her words carrying the weight of unspoken feelings.

An incredulous look cross Lucibello's features.

"What made you change your mind?" Lucibello ask, a whispered plea to understand what could be the reason of such feat.

Morgan pauses, sighs and then, she laughs—a sound like a honeyed harmony in the cool breeze of the bashful moonlight. "It was you, Lucibello," she declares, her eyes full of confidence, a sentiment she conveys with a deep breath. "I've realized that sometimes, being scared is just a sign that what we have is worth fighting for."

Those words seem to strike a bolt of amazed disbelief to Lucibello, their eyes widening in incredulity.

"What?" they gasp, astonishment wrapping around their voice, feeling their heart in a frenzied beat.

The question hangs in the air, as if the time just stopped, echoing through the now silent night, and leaving a path of sentiments entwined in silence. Lucibello's breath catch in their throat, unable to comprehend the depth of Morgan's confession.

The vampire takes a deep breath and meets their eyes, a resolve etched in her face. "I'm going to be fast, so listen carefully."

Lucibello's eyes widen, their expression a vast wave of emotion as large as the universe

"Wait, Morgan—"

"Just—Let me finish." Morgan interjects. "Don't make me say it twice," she teases, but with an edge of seriousness. “I protect people. It’s what I do. But you made everything different. Protecting you wasn't enough. You were on my dreams, my thoughts and when I almost lost you... I realized that is not about just saving you, it's about saving us.

"And what are you saying?" Lucibello ask with a trembling voice.

"I'm just saying—All that fear, all that pain you're holding onto? You don't have to carry it alone. Not anymore. Healing is a terrifying hell of a journey, but that's why we are not leaving you. We are here—I'm here. Not just as a memory, but as your present and all the tomorrows we have left."

As the words hangs in the air, Lucibello steps to Morgan's arms, each holding the other as if to say, here, is where I belong. Laughter bubbles from Morgan, a pleasant symphony that fills the night, and as director, a sonet of two hearts finding their rhythm in a world that sometimes forgets how to dance.

They stay there, tasting the cloying embrace for what if feels like an eternity. After stepping back with a smile plastered in both of their faces, and now, with hearts intertwined, and whispers of a promising future filling the air, they walk back inside, where their friends meet them with cheerful laughter and warm smiles.

••••

Trust. [Suzume Jiang x Nate Sewell]

Finally, a day to renovate the soul after all the tumultuous week. She is thankful that the guys could help her feel better, but the exhausting missions drained her energy.

The feeling of not having to face any other heartbreaking new, at least for this day, almost feels like it's not real. The weight of lost smiles and emotional wounds carried by her shoulders, make her tear a bit, but the gasp from the vampire brings her back from her aching thoughts.

"Oh my goodness!" Nate blurts amazed, the fragrance of oils and turpentines dancing with the intimate energy of shared secrets and silent understandings.

"Take a seat." Suzume says, the reaction sending a wave of confidence to her.

The pair sit in their respective seats, the melody of the morning avians greeting the sunrise. The room is full of paint buckets and brushes with stains of recent life, echoes of the scent of chaotic creativity curling around every nerve of the vampire.

At the center of the room, a little platform faced by an easel, a stunning landscape enriching the surface of the canvas.

"This is beautiful, Suzume," Nate says almost whispering, admiring the beautiful artwork, his breath beholding the reverence at the art before him, his hands carefully withdrawn, not daring to touch the fabric as if the pristine work could disappear. "But where are we?"

"This is where I come when I'm stressed," Suzume utters, her hand caressing the easel, a gently touch with unspoken emotions, and affection clearly wrapping around her fingers. "But it's been a long time..."

The confession hangs in the air, dancing with the scented trails of oil paints that lingered like the most tender perfume.

The vampire scans the walls with curiosity, frames of the mind of the detective, landscapes of her emotions and stunning portraits, covering each corner of the area. "I'm grateful for the trust you've placed in my hands, and for revealing to me your safe space." Nate confesses, his eyes meeting the detective's with a warm smile, a honeyed scent of fresh paint roaming the air.

Suzume chuckles and sighs, a strand of her hair falling to her face. "I want you to know me as I am," she says, a bolt of emotions sending a pleasant warmth through her chest. "This is my sanctuary."

"Your trust is my sanctuary," the vampire speaks, a swirl of emotions dancing in the depths of his gaze. "I would love to paint something with you—not just an artwork, but a masterpiece that expresses our moments shared together."

A pleasant silence settles, the faint strains of the radio from the shop next to the workshop waving at the quietness with some pop-rock tunes.

"Let me paint you." Suzume finally says, a blush spreading through her cheeks, the voice almost lost in the beat of the distant music.

Nate smirks, and approachs the platform, his eyes darkening with desire, a sentiment conveyed by a teasing smile. "That's the path you want to take?" he asks with mischief in his tone.

The detective laughs, her face almost resembling the redness of a tomato. "It's not that type of painting!"

"I don't have to take my clothes off?" he inquires a bit disappointed.

Suzume advances, her hands holding a brush like a sword hidden in her back. When she's finally close enough that she has to stretch her neck, and he's almost on top of her, she paints his face, marking it with color, a declaration of playful war. "Just stay still."

Nate bursts in laughter and nods, ready for this paint war that she just declared. "My new mission is to drench you in yellow and blue."

"What? Wait—" the detective tries to interjects, but laughter bubbles from her, echoing around the room, filling the space with whispers of happiness.

With the speed of the light, Nate takes two brushes, his lips tracing a lively smile, and takes a mocking fighting stance. "You're on!"

And so in the refuge of the soul, they painted, not just on canvas, but in the vast universe, covering the image with colors of trust, laughter and future promises.

••••

At first I just wrote about Lucibello, but I saw Suzume doesn't have any content, so even if it's not much, I wrote a tiny one shot where your detective Suzume likes to paint to destress. Hope you like it and happy new year!!!

@bitchyybabyy400

@wayhavensecretsanta

[7grandmel]

Todays rip: 12/08/2023

Viva La Robocop

Season 2 Featured on: SiIvaGunner's Highest Quality Rips: Volume L [Side A]

Ripped by Scooblee

There's something so fascinating about the chiptune community's ability to uncover incredible music from the strangest of sources. In the 80 and 90s, licensed games were being pushed out left and right by companies nobody was talking about, and nobody seems to remember in retrospect. Most of these games aren't considered classics, and many have been forgotten, yet companies like Ocean Software employed some bizarrely talented musical talent for the games they'd make. The obvious example to point to would be the Follin brothers, who would create absolute musical wizardry for games like Pictionary on NES or Bionic Commando for Commodore 64. Its immensely interesting seeing games that would otherwise be swept entirely to the wayside be remembered due to the hidden musical talent they contain.

Robocop for Game Boy is a clear example of this - composer Jonathan Dunn gave the game an absurdly crisp chiptune sound, and topped it all off with a title theme that sounds borderline melancholic. Its a really good tune on its own, and one ripe for rearranging with the game's distinctly unique sound. And thats what Scooblee did here - Viva la Robocop rearranges said title theme to the melody of Coldplay's Viva la Vida.

Scooblee has been doing chiptune music both on and off of SiIva for a very long time and are really damn good at it, and that skill is reflected here. Its an excellent arrangement that captures the emotional power of both songs really well, and has held up tremendously despite being six years old at this point. Due to the aforementioned forgotten state of the game in question, this rip too has sort of been forgotten on the channel, in favor of bigger-name games like Mario 64 or Pokémon. Yet it sits right alongside them, with a dedicated group of chiptune fans keenly aware of Jonathan Dunn's musical talents. And being able to uncover forgotten gems like this one entirely on my own amidst a vast sea of rips, is a huge part of why I love SiIvaGunner.

[existentialmagazine]

Review: Chloé Sautereau’s new bare-faced acoustic-pop single ‘Ten Thousand Stories’ merges warm guitar with a narrative of finding your place in the world

The Swiss born and raised, New York based singer-songwriter Chloé Sautereau has slowly but surely finding her place within the music scene, sharing bare-faced pop that blurs catchy hooks with intimate storytelling. With influences such as artists like Amy Allen, FINNEAS and Julia Michaels, Chloé is a familiar but uniquely striking force to be reckoned with, and she only continues to grow with every new release. Since her debut ‘Get to Know You Game’ earlier this year, Chloé now shares her latest offering ‘Ten Thousand Stories.’

As songwriting lies at the heart of everything Chloé does, ‘Ten Thousand Stories’ spills out with admissions of her ever-changing environments and headspaces, coming to terms with her new reality based within New York city and the way her life has shifted both internally and externally. Consumed by the big city, the endless faces, thousands of apartments and passing cars, bright lights and nightlife, the world Chloé now finds herself in is one that never stops moving, and that causes a lot of introspection. As she sings ‘sleeping here can get a little lonely��� , it’s almost like the masses of crowds and bustling streets can emphasise the loneliness of her solitary apartment, surrounded by so many and yet spending every night alone. The chorus hook continues ‘I’m ten thousand stories tall but I’m falling… I’m trying to keep up with the city lights’ , expressing how Chloé’s new life leaves her feeling a little lost within the world, constantly in a cycle of needing to be moving and doing something just like everyone around her. Just like we all experience and put on, there’s an inherent external pretence buried within her words, with Chloé feeling she must keep her emotions within to save face but allowing herself the freedom within her lyrics to come clean: ‘when I think about tomorrow, is it okay if I say I’m a little scared.’ As we’re all constantly pushed to grow, learn, make money and progress in our lives, ‘Ten Thousand Stories’ really flows out like the internal monologue most of us have buried within us, trying to make peace with the reality of life’s consuming needs. But littered within her self-analysis is just as much light as there is turmoil, as Chloé sings ‘have you seen how the morning sun makes every little thing so lovely’ , finding a new home in a place that glows with endless life. Erring between overwhelm and a newfound appreciation, ‘Ten Thousand Stories’ is here to give you an anthem for those days it all gets a little too much, guiding you through while Chloé’s figuring things out just as much as we all are.

Between the breathing lungs of her lyricism is a soundscape that’s both tender and warm, extending a welcoming hand to anyone needing to find the strength and familiarity of a friend to get them through and feel a little less alone, even if that’s in the distant form of Chloé from afar. Beginning with gentle acoustic guitar strums and intermittent plucks that ring out into the vastness of the sound, ‘Ten Thousand Stories’ captures an immediate intimacy that you can’t help but resonate with, built up with occasional dreamy electric guitar twangs. The chorus surrounds you with a cloudy haze of soft instrumentals, layering differing guitar strums and plucks within each other, showing more of a strength in their delivery than the verse’s more melancholic hums. Chloé’s vocals truly take centre stage though, soaring through a clean and airy higher range with a haunting delicacy, bridging the gap between powerful vocals with a lighter edge. Towards the track’s closure, radiant backing vocals make her words all the more engrossing, creating an atmospheric aura before things calmly fade out. All in all, the soundscape of ‘Ten Thousand Stories’ is intentionally minimal, there to soothe but not to take the focus of a narrative that Chloé is determined to have heard.

Check out ‘Ten Thousand Stories’ here to journey through Chloé’s heartfelt storytelling and whimsical sound!

Written by: Tatiana Whybrow

Photo Credits: Unknown

// This coverage was created via Musosoup, #SustainableCurator.

[anemoarchonhoe]

The Ruin Bird - Origins

Hi!! It's me again!! Sorry for a long wait, I had to organize my ideas down on paper before writing the draft on my notes because I just keep coming up with new ones.

Enough ramble, hope you enjoy!

Warning: slight Enkanomiya spoilers (Byakuyakoku volume 2), poor writing, bad grammar, deviates A LOT from canon for SAGAU purposes, Creator has no gender but self-identifies as female, Creator in this chapter ≠ Reader, this is Teyvat world origin but might sound kinda biblical so trigger warning for Religion

← Previous

The universe had no beginning. And the same goes for the Creator. This powerful Entity has no shape nor form, a lonely spirit drifting across the vast emptiness of the cursed dark void. It was not the only "god" to exist; they are many and just as melancholic.

The Entity watched Her brethren "create" the first stars, and She joined them, tired of the darkness that haunts. Satisfied, they part ways, and the Entity drifts closer to the one who hasn't stopped "creating".

"What are you doing?" the Entity asked.

"A thing I shall call a planet." the other entity replied.

Curious, She watched as Her fellow creator moved, creating a sphere made of gaseous substances.

"Is that the planet?" the Entity asked.

"Yes. Now, do forgive me, sister, but I will not be able to entertain you beyond this point. I have much more to do and so cannot engage into further talk for my work requires my full attention. Why do you not try to make one yourself?"

The Entity said farewell and then left. Again, She drifts across the darkness, leaving a trail of stars in Her wake, left to Her own thoughts. She ceases in a slightly "emptier" space not occupied by many stars. Here, She finally made up Her mind.

"I shall try my hand at creating a planet, too. And I will make it the most beautiful."

The Entity stretches her hand and draws out power to create a core and carefully layered and covered it with meteor and stardust, rolling it into a spherical ball with her ethereal hands. But the void is too cold, and so it was immediately encased in ice. Disliking the cold white appearance of her planet, the Creator creates a star and places it near the white sphere, calling it a Sun. The ice did melt, but much too quickly, and now the planet is molten red and as hot as the star near it.

The Creator moves the Sun far away from the sphere, but near enough that the sphere still receives light and do not drift away, but it did little to cool it down. Feeling frustrated at her repeated failure for the first time, the Creator shed salty tears which fell upon the lava planet, filling it up and cooling it down.

The planet absorbed the tears, but it was too much. The sphere was now all liquid. The Creator revolved around it, fascinated by its rich blue color, and called it Water. Grabbing a stray meteor, She chucked it on Her planet, wanting to see just how deep it goes. The meteor was small enough to not completely damage it, but large enough that the salty water could not fully engulf it.

Laughing, the Entity shrunk Herself and entered her world. She observed the cracks on the surface slowly fill up with water, and She was pleased to find out that the filtered water wasn't salty.

"The thing I walk on shall be called Land."

Satisfied, She sets off once more into space to observe her planet, and frowned again. Half of her planet is too hot, and the other half is too cold. The Entity rotated the planet to distribute heat equally on the surface, and so Day and Night were made.

At a loss of what else to do, the Entity simply watched the little sphere rotate and revolve around the sun for some time, and fell asleep. The little sighs She made while She slumbered gently entered and brushed against the planet, and then blew across its surface like a gentle caress, and so Wind began to exist. The Creator's holy breaths and tears made Life possible.

When She finally awakened, Trees, Grasses, and Flowers covered the land. She once again descended to observe the surroundings. Mountains, Hills, Volcanoes, and Cliffs were formed. There are also Valleys, Glaciers, Hot Springs, and more. She travelled and interacted with Her surroundings, and the Entity felt Her creations respond to Her happiness by rejoicing, too. Flowers bloomed and released sweet fragrances. Trees bore fruit that the Creator plucked and consumed. The water that She drank was sweet and cool.

But it was still. It was quiet. And the Creator felt lonely again.

"I will create more Life." She declared, and again drew Her power.

She created Animals. The Entity made animals that could walk, swim, and fly. Ones that could be consumed and ones that couldn't be. Large ones and small ones. She filled both the land, sea, and sky with them and was content. At least for a while.

The animals could understand and communicate with Her, but She longed for another that could speak Her tongue.

"I will create life that I will call a Human. This human will take care of my creations for me and I shall be their Mother."

The Creator gathered pure stardust and began to mould the first Ancestors to Her "image". But the Creator has yet to make a corporeal form that could be perceive by humankind's eyes, and mirrors haven't been invented yet, so the first humans' faces were inconsistent (but with the same defining features like eyes, nose, ears, and mouth); but still beautiful and ethereal.

The ability to walk on two feet, swiftness, intelligence, and differing personalities, the instinct to keep holding on to life and fight back. The Creator worked on their masterpieces, day in and night out. The entire animal kingdom observed as She breathed life into the first humans; the Great Ancestors.

And she said to them;

"Love and care for one another like how I do for you and I will bless you. You have everything in this world you could ever desire and need; so live leisurely and comfortably."

And the Creator left the planet, satisfied with Her job well done. Wishing to celebrate her success with Her kind, She invited Her brethren to take a look at Her greatest masterpiece. They were in awe and asked Her how She managed to do it, and She happily shared Her experience.

Now, most of the other starcreators were happy for Her. Except the Primordial One, the "eldest" of them, the first to grow a sense of Self; a consciousness. He desired the World for himself, and the Creator felt his jealousy.

But the Creator is much too weak against him, so She hurriedly descended down the world She named Teyvat, creating the Seven Dragon Sovereigns to protect the world and all the living things within it. One by one, she gave the power of the seven primordial elements to the dragons, but She immediately felt the danger of bringing seven soulless bodies to life; so She took out Her own, and breaks it down to seven pieces and along with the Breath of Life, gave it to the Dragonlords.

"You are all to protect humankind from any outside invaders. This world rightfully belongs to both humanity and dragonkind, as both of my children, so defend it with all your might."

And to the Ancestors, She said;

"Take my hair for yourselves. It is the physical manifestation of Dreams. It is just as powerful as the elements, for it produces Ambitions and Aspirations that no entity can so easily shatter. My children; Hopes and Dreams are my core and now, it is yours. I will return, so please wait for me until then."

And the Creator, exhausted and without spare power, passed away(?). The holy hair attached themselves to the scalp of the ancestors and they faded into browns and blacks after their hearts absorbed its power.

Then the Primodial One descended along with his four shades, and invaded the world, slaying the Holy Dragons and made the descendants believe he was the one who truly created everything. Changing the Law that the True Creator placed, the Primordial One made Teyvat's environment hostile and inhospitable to otherworlders, and created a "fake sky" to hide Teyvat to the rest of the universe and prevent the True Creator from coming back.

And through the power of time, made humanity forget the True God.

But Teyvat never forgot.

Now, it happily welcomes back its God.

( To be continued )

Next →

[otherdimensionalapple]

Heyy!! Can you please please do a future spouse characteristics and personality reading for me?? I would be grateful for your efforts!! I hope its no bother. Thank youuu 🥺💖

disclaimer: this is a prediction and it's based on the current energy, so it might not necessarily become 'true' exactly the way I predict it. Please take everything with a grain of salt. Things can change.

a/n: hello my dear! Of course I can do that for you! Don’t worry, it’s ok☺️✨ I really enjoyed doing this reading! Your fs seems to be such a sweetheart! 😆 Feel free to give me some feedback!💚

𝐘𝐎𝐔𝐑 𝐅𝐒' 𝐏𝐄𝐑𝐒𝐎𝐍𝐀𝐋𝐈𝐓𝐘

The personality of your future spouse is represented by the whale spirit. Your future spouse might be someone who really cares for their emotional health as well as their stability. The desire to delve deeper and deeper, they are not afraid of emotional expression or traversing difficult terrain, as they have already overcome many challenges in their lives. These experiences have enriched them and given them stability, strength and a depth that is rare. Whale energy is usually linked to the feminine forces of compassion and communication. They are someone you can depend on when all else seems lost and you can trust them to be a beacon in your darkest hour. Very calm, profoundly peaceful and steady. When stressed or when they’re generally out of balance, their energy might become very heavy, and they themselves become very melancholic and slip into old habits/patterns. Regular self care is important for them in those moments! They are a very magnetic person, and might be a bit intimidating at times. They have a nurturing instinct and like taking care of others. They might be sensitive to sounds, rhythm and poetry. Might be good at taking care of plants as well. They always feel like they have a purpose and they see the big spiritual picture. They are like a blessing! Healing energy, family oriented, what they have to share with the world is very valuable. A natural leader, but not someone who always likes to take charge of something. They just have the qualities to be a great leader. I love their energy!

However, they might be the type to get caught up in their own insecurities. They might feel the need to hide or withdraw, even though they are such a great person with a lovely energy. They tend to worry too much, might have to deal with anxiety, crisis or just feeling trapped. Their feelings can be very deep and complex. But they’re very hardworking , able to endure a lot, someone who can create a stable and comfortable place for their family and loved ones. Someone people look up to. Very compassionate, balanced and down to earth. They can naturally make other people feel secure and are just deeply kind-hearted.

They have a vast knowledge, someone who can give great advice as well as listen attentively. Very intuitive, wanting to form their own conclusions, their power is vast but subtle, slightly mysterious. They might enjoy being alone in the darkness - thinking, reflecting and gathering energy. They might feel restricted and powerless at times, but that’s just all in their head, they imposed those things on themselves. They need to be more honest with themselves. They are isolating themselves too much at times. They are someone who takes accountability of all they do.

They might also have a creative, carefree and exciting side to them, a passion for life and for learning, in those times their free-spirit comes out as well as their innocent way of viewing the world. Curious by heart. They are able to balance the subconscious and the physical world, taking the middle road. They try to go with the flow and to take everything in moderation, and they have to be careful to not stretch themselves too thin. Patient and able to adapt to any situation. They have a pure heart. Beautiful energy.

However, they might be prone to give in to their ego, lusting for (for them) harmful or unnecessary things, unwilling to leave negative situations, overworking themselves, taking on too many responsibilities which results in overburden and stress. They might easily fall into addictions to cope with their situations (can also be something like excessive daydreaming or desperately distracting themselves with their phone etc). They are able to be very successful, just because they are hardworking, knowledgeable and have an attractive energy and personality. But success can also be a burden on them. So moderation and self care is really important.

Overall, they are a very loving and protective person, self sacrificing and nurturing. But also very abundant and accomplished. Their energy shines bright and it feels like everything is blooming around them.

Their current attitude towards love is represented by the two of swords and the king of cups. Overall, they might feel stuck and a bit afraid to proceed in their love life. They behave very indecisively and passively at the moment. Lot’s of thinking and worrying. They know that they should make an important decision and a lack of action makes the situation worse. I feel like they love love and the idea of finding someone who equally loves you back, dreaming about that one special person they will meet someday (hint: you). They have sooo much love to give but they don’t know what to do with it. It seems like no one is worthy enough of their love, they all just take their love for granted :(

They might still lack a bit of self love or self worth. They need to acknowledge themselves more and pure all the love they have into themselves first. As long as they don’t do that they will always end up with overburden and exhaustion, overextending themselves for love. Setting up boundaries for themselves is what they need to do. Furthermore, they need to understand what an amazing person they are!!!

Zodiac signs I had in mind while reading: strong gemini, sagittarius and capricorn!! they might also have a bit of aquarius and maybe be moon or venus dominant.

[th0mas1ut]

"sʜᴀʀɪɴɢ ᴏɪᴋᴀᴡᴀ’s ʙʟᴜᴇ ᴇᴀʀᴘʜᴏɴᴇs ᴡʜɪʟᴇ ᴜғᴏ ʜᴜɴᴛɪɴɢ"

𝑝𝑎𝑖𝑟𝑖𝑛𝑔: 𝑜𝑖𝑘𝑎𝑤𝑎 𝑡𝑜𝑟𝑢 𝑥 𝑟𝑒𝑎𝑑𝑒𝑟

 𝑎/𝑛: 𝑖 𝑐𝑎𝑛'𝑡 𝑔𝑒𝑡 ℎ𝑖𝑠 𝑒𝑎𝑟 𝑜𝑢𝑡 𝑜𝑓 𝑚𝑦 ℎ𝑒𝑎𝑑. 𝑎𝑛𝑑 𝑦𝑜𝑢 𝑐𝑎𝑛'𝑡 𝑒𝑖𝑡ℎ𝑒𝑟. 𝑠𝑜...𝑒𝑎𝑡 𝑢𝑝 𝑡ℎ𝑒 𝑐𝑟𝑢𝑚𝑏𝑠 𝑤𝑒 𝑔𝑜𝑡 𝑓𝑜𝑙𝑘𝑠 + 𝑡𝑎𝑔𝑠: @trifliz​ 

☼ 𝑔𝑒𝑛 𝑡𝑎𝑔𝑠; 𝑎𝑠𝑘 𝑏𝑜𝑥; 𝑛𝑎𝑣𝑖𝑔𝑎𝑡𝑖𝑜𝑛; 

♫ 𝑚𝑢𝑠𝑖𝑐𝑎𝑙 𝑚𝑎𝑠𝑡𝑒𝑟𝑙𝑖𝑠𝑡

"look, y/n-chan, we're almost there~"

it was 2am, and somehow your local setter had convinced you that there had, in fact, been a ufo sighting nearby and yes, you indeed would have to come explore it with him.

and no, he didn't care that you didn't believe in aliens and ufo's cause you were coming and that's that.

oikawa began to hum a upbeat tune as you took massive strides to catch up to his lanky body. the two of you were walking through a quiet neighborhood, taking shortcuts to react his supposed destination faster. you'd only agreed since he'd promised a nice lunch for you next weekend, but it wasn't seeming to be worth it at this point. sighing, you huffed and puffed, struggling to keep up with his rapid pacing; but admittedly, you'd go anywhere if it came to him. but like hell you'd tell him that.

the destination appeared to be up ahead, and you could visibly see it, but it was nearly a mile out, so you soon found yourself dragging your feet as you took forceful steps, grumbling nonsense under your breath. oikawa, still distracted with the promise of an amazing discovery, glanced over at you when the scuffing of your shoes had started to become more obvious. thoughtfully, he foraged his pocket and pulled out his blue earbuds, dangling them out to you like a peace offering. you lifted up your sluggish gaze and brightened up at seeing them; gratefully took one earbud with the corner of your lips curving up in a thank you.

you shut your eyes with the soothing melody, flowing like silk throughout your headspace; while you didn't complement oikawa much, wanting to avoid it going to his head, you had to admit he had immaculate taste. your heavy steps gradually turned over to power walking strides, and in your trance, you missed oikawa glancing in your direction, as if he were looking at the earth from outer space for the first time.

the earbud was unexpectedly yanked out of your ear as oikawa made an abrupt stop. making a face of displeasure at your music being cut short, you turned back to see what the problem was, but oikawa was squinting at something in the far distance while glancing back and forth between his phone and what appeared a building. still peeved about missing the bridge of a really good song, you lightly punched oikawa in the shoulder and he teetered off to the side from the force.

"hey! what was that for?"

"what's the problem...let's go!"

pouting, he put the earbuds back in his pocket as he pointed ecstatically at the building in front of the two of you. "that's the space museum." he whispered, a excited look of engrossment overtaking his face. even in the dim street lights, you could make out a pink dusting his cheeks, making his face radiate like the moon in the dark.

it then occurred to you why you had come here at all.

"we're going to sneak into the space museum?" you whispered back with a harsh undertone, practically hissing in his direction. he nodded, looking shameless and proud of himself for coming up with the idea before you smacked him harder again a second time, nearly sending him flying.

he rubbed at his shoulder, wincing and whimpering under your furious gaze. "ow! that really hurt, y/n-chan!"

"what about security?" you spat back with a furious undertone, "what if we get arrested?"

his playful attitude from before was gone now, a more serious one taking light. you could see his face slightly clouding over and darkening to a frightening point, and his tone dropped a whole pitch, sending a shiver down your spine. "i wanted to take you somewhere special to me." oikawa spoke, the sharpness of his words piercing through your chest. he sounded harsh, but his voice began to shake with his final words. you could see a twitching in his lips, his bottom lip trembling. "so..."

was someone gripping your chest? because it hurt. a lot. crushed under a thousand emotions, you wanted to reach out to him, but lowered your hand at the last second, holding it out longingly in midair. but he wasn't looking at you, instead squinting up at the stars, like he was asking them something. the night sky was silent, blinking back.

the tightness of your heart compelled a hand to reach out, holding his wrist with an aggressive grip. he yelped as his hand was suddenly dragged up into the air, and his eyes meeting yours with a fragile tentativeness, his insides burning up like a library lit aflame.

"um." your words shot out smoothly like a dart, wording unsteady but firm. "i wanna see it too."

but he still looked conflicted, and his face dropped as he questioned your change of heart. he didn't want this out of pity, but the second yank of his wrist must have proved that otherwise, because your voice sounded more desperate this time. "take me to the planetarium, oikawa. please."

he exhaled, trying to read through you one more time, but there was nothing to read through; you seemed genuine enough, and you shared a intimate sweet smile with him that made his insides swoon with his heart fluttering: a rose in the wind. so he took your hand, unable to stop the melancholic laugh that escaped his lips, and had you follow him through the back parking lot, making sure to stick to the shadows of the night. sometimes he forgot how foolish he was. the only one full of pity for himself was him alone, but why, when he had you by his side?

the back door creaked open with the sound of your arrival, and your hand was tightly gripping his with a noticeable tremor, knuckles white. up ahead, you could see a air force glider hung in mid-air, and a model of the moon over to your left. he tried to stifle the sudden exhilaration he was feeling and comfort you, so gently he squeezed your shaky hand, as his soft steps echoed throughout the interior of the museum. the two of you shared panicked glances as you heard thudding of boots around the corner, ad with a urgent desperation, he grabbed your hand and sprinted down the corner, sneakers thudding against the tiles.

a sudden shout could be heard, getting closer and closer. "hey! who's there?" oikawa muttered something other his breath, pulling you into a door to the left. "in here!" he practically shouted, pushing you inside, his hands roughly on your back.

he was still gripping your waist when the two of you arrived inside, the automatic door shutting behind you. exhaling, his hands slip down to your hips, searing you through your cloths. "are you ok?"

stunned, it took you a second to even react with all the fogginess in your head, making it hard to think or process anything that had just happened. suddenly, his hands were jerked back, as he realized how close he had been holding you. he quickly walked forward, attempting to hide his flush as he motioned you to follow him to the front row of the auditorium-like room. "come on, it's up ahead."

it took you a moment to process - but you were in the planetarium, the place oikawa had trying to take you all evening. astonishment by it's vastness evident on your face, he smirked with aura of arrogance, satisfied by your reaction. "told you how cool it was. just admit it, y/n-chan~"

leaning over the control panel, he squinted at the buttons, trying to find the right one with his phone flashlight before hitting one with mixed confidence. you gasped as the ceiling suddenly flashed with millions of bright dots, a black to purple gradient highlighting them all.

you forgot how to breath as you looked up, nearly falling over backwards trying to look at them all; there were millions of stars, all shining brightly on their own. they were tiny, but amassed across entire titanic like ceiling made you feel small compared to the massiveness of the projection, with your heart was pounding in your chest with a loud rhythm as you tried to wrap your mind around it all. it was so big, so much, you didn't know where to even look. carefully guiding yourself down to the ground without breaking eye contact with the galaxy in front of you for even a second, you sat down on the ground, crossing your legs and leaning back on the palms of your hands. heart in your throat, you could barely croak out a "wow."

oikawa couldn't look at the sky, not when he was looking at you: how could you be so much brighter? and how had he not seen it before; you were positively glowing, like a sun, and the sun is a star, but the one brightest of them all.

he couldn't even think straight right now as his body shuffled forward: his hands so greedy, so touch starved. lips like a magnet, he was drawn towards yours with his hazy thinking, as his body crouched down next to you. your attention suddenly shifted to him, unprepared for the intensity in his eyes. inexplicably, fingers were reached out, yours tracing his cheekbones and his curled around your neck, giving you tremors of a lifetime.

his lips touched yours with soft hesitation, explorative and curious, as if it were asking a question to you. your mouth answered back, moving in synch, as you tilted your head to press harder against lips in wonder. you felt him groan as it vibrated through his body with a low grumble and reach your mouth, forcing you to whimper as something began to stir down low.

"thank you..." he purred in your ear with a soft rumble, "for coming with me."

[literatehiss]

Questions Unanswered

Written for Day 6 of Jon Elias week.

Prompts: Feyfolk AU & “I’ll always be here for you”

Jon belongs to his Archive as it belongs to him. There are no people there, just the souls of the unwise trapped in inanimate objects. A knock at the door changes all of that Read on AO3 here Jon flitted between the shelves of his Archive, a vast library where he had documented every secret and lie and deal that his superiors had ever made. He had been born in the Archive and no other soul had ever stepped foot in there as far as he knew.

Not that he was completely alone.

There were the Stoker brothers, humans who had sold themselves to one of the more powerful fey in order to protect the other. They were both alive, would never die, trapped forever in a pair of portraits that side by side. They could talk but not hear each other, could see but could not focus on the portrait of their brother. Jon knew it was terrible for them, and did what he could to pass messages between them, though the older brother often became hostile, blaming Jon for their predicament.

Miss Sasha was stuck in a mirror, had been stuck in there by a fey who had stolen her Name, her body, and her life along with it. She was Jon’s favourite. Polite and kind and would talk to him about the organization of his Archive.

The less said about Martin the better. A book, an object practically sacred to Jon, with a half-rate poet’s soul bound to the pages. He couldn’t stand poetry and especially not by a being that only seemed able to spew out strange vaguely melancholic and romantic poems. Miss Sasha was somehow able to talk to the soul stuck inside. Yet another human unable to stop themselves from making a terrible deal apparently.

There were others. A bleeding knife that he could hear angry screaming from when he touched it, it seemed to know him and had nothing good to say, though it mostly spoke nonsense. A still-alive wolf head with eerily human eyes that still had the sword that killed it stuck in its skull, the wolf head had stopped snapping at him and had been half-cordial the last time he had walked passed, apparently, the sword belonged to her best friend who was still alive and on the surface, if not more than a little bit traumatized. A doll with a little cloth cat eternally twirling in a music box, no music played, just overlapping voices pleading for someone to remember and snap out of it. Unfortunately, the doll seemed unable to clarify what it meant, otherwise he would have tried to help. He did quite like the doll’s little cat.

Jon reached up towards a book labeled “Lukas”, he had never read it, had only seen that the name was carved into the thick leather in a way that implied that the creature the leather had come from had still been alive when it had been done. It had been one of the items already here when he had awoken, and so according to the rules that he had awoken already knowing, Jon knew not to open it. The Lukas book did have one ability that Jon prized above all else. If he put it next to the Martin book, the poet would shut up and would stay that way even after the Lukas book had been taken away, at least for a little bit. The poet’s words had become increasingly saccharine and that was simply not allowed in Jon’s Archive. His fingers had just brushed the leather when he heard something new. The sound of a door opening.

Wings buzzing in frantic fear and excitement, Jon flew over to the only door to the Archive. It had always been locked as far as Jon knew, not that he had ever checked, he couldn't leave after all.

A man. Maybe?

A fey. Much more likely.

He looked human enough to Jon’s inexpert eyes, though there were a few obvious changes upon closer inspection. Grey feathers were interspersed in his hairline, teeth a little too sharp when he smiled, cold grey eyes unblinking.

“Hello my Archivist.” Jon hovered in the air a few meters away, “Come now Jonathan, come down here.” and Jon simply had no choice in the matter, his body following the orders before he could even decide whether he wanted to or not. His feet touching the ground and walking up to the other. The barely used muscle that was Jon’s magic lashed out at the other’s actions.

“Who Are You? What Are You Doing In My Archives?”

The other shivered before he laughed.

“A little rude Archivist, don’t you think? I am here to see you, make sure you are doing well. You are very precious to me after all.”

“I am?”

“Of course, the jewel in my collection,” and with this he gestured to all the other objects in the Archive.

Jon was faintly aware that he could hear the shouts of the others, The angry Stokers’ shouts, Miss Sasha’s pleading, a crescendo of voices from the music box and a particularly mournful poem coming from Martin. Despite that, they all faded into the background as he looked at the fey in front of him.

“You can call me… Elias my dear,” and Jon could tell in the way the name flowed over his tongue when he muttered it to himself that it held no power, an alias then. The other came up to him, tracing pointed nails over his cheek. “ You must so many questions all bottled up inside that wonderful head of yours.”

And he was right, Jon had awoken with hundreds of questions that had never gotten answered and the pile had only continued to to build over time.

“As a gift, for our first meeting,” A lie, Jon could taste it on the other’s words but he couldn’t work out where the lie was? This was their first meeting after all, or was it not a gift? “You can ask me any question you want, and I will answer honestly. Only the one of course, don’t want you getting greedy.”

Jon stilled, the other still tracing his features and running his hand through his hair. One question. He could find out anything, anything at all.

.

.

.

“Why am I alone here?”

Elias laughed.

“Oh darling, you have never been alone, not really. I will always be here for you, I am always watching.”

[sourbat]

Nategaar R or U (Sorry (I'm not sorry) I keep sending you Nategaar I really love how you write it)

R: Romance Under the Stars

Wow. I actually have something to say about this. 

Warning: Set during Galaktikon

The Falcon could not withstand the heat that ripped through earth’s atmosphere, and the sound of metal turning, massive plates groaning and giving under the increasing pressure, could be heard all throughout the ship. And yet it persisted, chasing after the increasing heatwave that only grew more tumultuous and unbearable, turning the band’s one way ride into a giant, flying oven; a coffin that would no doubt cook them alive if there weren’t other, greater issues at hand. A wave of demonic evil swept across the darkening skies, igniting the dwindling oxygen in an immense flurry of wild fire that struck the Falcon’s side. Emergency lights flashed, and amidst the chaos, the cracking glass panels and increasing light as the Falcon drew nearer its goal, all Nathan could think about was how nice the stars looked tonight.

Stars of prophecies aside, just about everything else in the sky appeared the same. Each bright dot flickered, shining a once insignificant beacon of hope, now so impactful as time began to drag. Nathan could feel it slipping before him, coming to a still as his eyes locked with what he hoped was part of the dipper. He didn’t care which one it was, so long as there was something recognizable within the black, empty sea of space.

Skwisgaar’s hand squeezed his. “What ams you lookinks at?”

“The stars,” Nathan answered without breaking contact.

A final decision had been made, though it’s unclear when each member gained their resolve. Nathan’s confident Toki and Pickles’ made theirs before setting foot on the Falcon, and Murderface, despite his lamenting, had become increasingly determined on the ride up. Nathan knew this was it, accepted it as such, but Skwisgaar by his side, wavered.

“Remember when we passed out drunk looking at stars?” He mentioned it absentmindedly, as a filler to help cover the dread he was sure Skwisgaar was feeling. Skwisgaar squeezing his hand? No, should be the other way around. Or maybe Skwisgaar was trying to reassure him… did any of it matter now? 

Skwisgaar uttered an airy chuckle. “We does that all the times, Nathans.”

True. Nathan cannot count the times he and Skwisgaar passed out drunk during “x” activity, and when Skwisgaar brought it up, was almost taken aback by the remark. Then Skwisgaar laughed–actually laughed–at Nathan, and also at his own comment. It was a hearty, boisterous laugh, one so powerful it clogged Nathan’s overwhelmed senses. A laugh that deafened the flaring alarm. A row of shiny, white teeth that blinded the red flashing lights.  

“Sorry,” Skwisgaar said, shaking his laughter away with a few sharp flicks of his head. Each one produces a serene, blond flash that Nathan greatly preferred over the impending lightning storm. “I was just thinkinks. All of them silly memories…” Skwisgaar’s eyed began to strain, and his bottom lip sank. Nathan gripped Skwisgaar’s hand, sending a silent, but firm order to finish the comment, no matter how painful. Skwisgaar’s head shakes a nod. “I thinks I will miss thems very much.”

“Yeah, well.” Nathan stopped. He stared at the vast, darkening sky, watching the blue begin to sink beneath them, replaced with the black void of space. A sharp pain shot through his heart at the sight of the millions of stars across the universe. Stars that he wished on, counted, and stars that lighted him the way home. Stars that shined when he and Skwisgaar kissed, glimmered when they fell in love, and stars that ignited in fury whenever they performed. The agony persisted, and Nathan relinquished his hand from Skwisgaar to pull him close. Their hips bumped, and Skwisgaar wrapped his arm round Nathan’s waist, and although the screen was almost completely warped from the mounting pressure and heat, the two remained together and stared at their battered version of the night sky. “They were all good,” Nathan stated, feeling Skwisgaar’s cheek brush against his. “Each one of them.”

 Skwisgaar rested his head on Nathan’s shoulder. “Mhmm.”

Time continues to slow, coming to a near standstill. Nathan’s sure he’ll need to call the band to order soon, though when is still up in the air. Air? Sky? They were in space now. They were all amongst the stars. He and Skwisgaar were surrounded by the stars. Nothing mattered now. Not even time.

Time… 

“Skwisgaar?” 

“Yeah, Nathans?”

“I…think.” Nathan’s throat tightened. Skwisgaar shifted, pressing his weight into Nathan. “I think I’m really going to miss that,” he confessed, and felt Skwisgaar’s hair drape and spill over his shoulder as he turned to stare up at him. “Us. Together. Doing shit like that.”

The moment’s ruined, Nathan thought. Soiled with too much emotion. Stupid feelings that raised up fear and doubt, longing and so many unspoken words Nathan failed to get across with his lyrics, messages that could only be relayed through private stares or hands reaching and sending notes of desire. Now as not the time for doubt, for second-guessing and silently pleading for time to just freeze so that he could properly formulate the words he needed to say.

But Nathan knew he could have a million years, and it would never be enough to fix the pain in his chest, and in a few seconds, he would have no choice but to let Skwisgaar go.

Skwisgaar pressed his chin into Nathan’s shoulder. “Nathans?”

“Yeah?”

His lips pursed into a thinning, pale crescent. “Them stars looks very beau-tificals.”

Nathan hissed, stopping an exhale from turning into a groan, then gave Skwisgaar a sharp nod. “Yeah,” he said, then turned, brushing his nose across Skwisgaar’s silken crown. Nathan pushed his lips into the center, producing an audible kiss that could be heard through the vibrating metal. “You’re not half-bad looking yourself.” 

Skwisgaar’s arms squeezed his waist. “I could say them same things abouts you.”

Time. Nathan remembered a time where a lightyear was unfathomable, when such distances could only be “explained” with fancy programs and numbers. Formulas had always been meaningless to him; it was only through experience that Nathan could truly understand the meaning behind such terms. As the Falcon continued forward, disregarding pieces of its tearing wing, or outer layer chipping away, Nathan finally got what it meant for something to stretch on and on, maybe even forever.   

Perhaps this will last forever, Nathan pondered as the weight of his body began to lift. How perfect would it be if he and Skwisgaar’s final seconds together could last a million lightyears, could spread across the cosmos and be seen and wished upon forever? Was that too gay, or just too much for ask for? 

The Falcon’s front peeled under the heat, and finally gave way, and the massive beast ahead unleashed a final blast of lightning towards them.

And then they ascended.

Just as planned, they united against the demon, and with their combined powers, pushed back the evil storm with one of their own. Dethlights flashed across space, swallowing up the lightning, thunder and flames. Their powers fighting, consuming and mixing with Salacia’s resulted in a massive reaction. Metal melted, evaporated under the unfathomable heat that coursed through Nathan’s entire being, that sweltered and scorched each band member. Just like the Falcon before them, they persisted, consuming all the evil in their path.

Such combined power proved to be too much, and as Nathan began to feel his every atom give under the intense, magical force, somehow found and pulled Skwisgaar into his chest, embracing him one final time before their physical forms ceased to exist. A massive pentagram filled the sky, burning through the booming thunderclouds. The pentagram remained for some time, fending off the residual magic that once threatened the planet, spreading across the damaged atmosphere and blanketing it with its force. It soon vanished, replaced with the promising formation of rain clouds that healed the planet with its soothing rain.

That, too, ended.

The clouds shifted, shrank and returned to the sea from which they came, unveiling the magnificent array of purple and white. Stars glowed, radiated across the clear night sky, shining their brilliant light over earth, and other, greater pieces shot across the cosmos, stretching long tails of burning light and vanishing once they breached the atmosphere.

Underneath an old, abandoned wooden set of high school bleachers, Nathan drunkenly peered outward, head lifted to the sky. His heavy jaw sank, and a harsh stare turned agape at the many shooting stars that birthed and died before him. He rested a hand against the ancient, rusted support beams. A single, massive light burst through the sky, soaring across Nathan’s line of view before disappearing into the darkness. Its sudden death sent a peculiar, if not melancholic, sensation up Nathan’s spine. 

“What ams you lookinks at?”

Somewhat startled, Nathan turned around, facing Skwisgaar. The man sat under one of the better covered portions, and was nursing the last of the cold cans they had taken with them on their objectiveless adventure. Despite sequestering under the more covered portion of the bleachers, the man’s long hair was drenched, sticking to parts of his face. Under the shadowed frame, Nathan likened Skwisgaar to a handsome phantom, an angelic, but haunting figure that could lure him into the dark recess of the bleacher if he so commanded.

“A star,” he answered without breaking contact.

Skwisgaar’ eyes reflected, glowed menacingly like a tomcats under the shadows. “Instead of lookinks at silly stars, we coulds be... admiring each others more, ja?” He slipped his arms over a leg, then rested his chin on top of his knee as Nathan drew closer. “After alls,” Skwisgaar continued, voice dropping into a sultry whisper as Nathan’s eyes set upon his glowing form, “one day we wills be real stars…” 

[bxthharmon]

White Butterflies, pt i. || Hvitserk Lothbrok x Reader

Words: 1768

Warnings: Arranged marriage

Summary: Y/N struggles to adapt to the world she’s been forced into, but it’s not all as bad as it seems.

A/N: This quarantine’s giving me so much time to write lmao, this was inspired by a list of old wives tales i found :)

i | ii | iii | iv | v

This story doesn’t follow the plot, so you don’t have to know the story to understand it.

Just past the settlements and huts of Kattegat, a short way over the headland, above the waterfall in the stream that ran to the next bay, there was a yew tree. Salient due to the runes and markings carved into the trunk. The tree’s roots reached and ensnared the flowing stream, knotty and tired after hundreds of years of life. The top branches were so high that some of the younger children of the town believed it to touch the sky, and the older inhabitants, however skeptical, could do nothing to disprove it. Of all places in and around Kattegat, the seats provided by the roots of the tree were your favourite place. When you had first arrived, you had felt so despaired, your God could surely never reach you here, but you had let go of Christianity, and embraced the Viking culture.

You used to believe that God could reach you anywhere, if you needed Him. But when you had needed Him most, He turned His back on you. Eventually, after a month of feeling lost and broken, you found that your prayers had turned to your new home’s Gods. You prayed to Odin for knowledge, to Freyja for help in the unknown. You prayed to Frigg for children, but mostly to Vidar, the Silent  God of Revenge. Come to think of it, every God you knew of had entered your prayers in the last month, though only some seemed to hear. You had learned the ways of Kattegat quickly, Hvitserk putting it down to the help of Freyja and Odin. but you showed no signs of being with child, understandable due to the infrequency of… opportunities. And Vidar? You hoped that he had a plan for you, because you wished, more than anything, for revenge.

You watched the water swerve around the toe of your boot, flowing quickly around the sides of the leather and continuing their journey down to the fjord. You leaned your head against the trunk of the yew, looking through the branches, but unable to see the sun through the metres of thick pines. You closed your eyes, and tried to imagine what your father would be doing now.

He would be in a meeting - the war council, probably - planning an invasion or attack. He was always planning, and he passed the habit onto you and your brothers. The eldest, Geoffrey had his kingdom and his people to look after, as the heir. Arthur would run the matters of war; planning and devising wars and battles, strategy and fighting had always been his skill, with his taste for violence. He scared you. Your only younger brother, Theodore, would also be victim to a political marriage, but he was too kind for the ruthlessness of a court life, you had always thought. Your mother would be riding, or gossiping over her embroidery with her ladies in waiting.

The needle pricked your skin, causing a sharp sting to shoot through your finger. You watched the blood form a little bead, pretty and dark against your skin, before slipping down onto your cloth. The crimson darted out, over the shiny, cream fabric before another bead joined its invasion of your cloth, the blood seeking out the threads of your embroidery, staining your stitches too, making them an ugly brown.

“Y/N!” your mother scolded, “Go clean yourself up, you’ve ruined your work, as always.” she pursed her lips, inspecting your uneven stitches, “you used to be good at this, but look, your stitches are too small and tight now, they need to be more relaxed.” she raised an eyebrow at you condescendingly, as if it was the worst thing in the world. “Go now.”

You went and washed your hand and it stopped bleeding, but looking for an excuse to leave your mother’s company, you had ventured down the halls to the Throne Room. you pushed open the huge, oak door and slipped into the vast room. You walked down the stone path to the steps, and walked up. You stood before your father’s throne, towering and strong and massive over your eight-year-old self. You touched the cold metal arm, and the uncomfortable-looking wooden seat. You went to sit down, but your oldest brother’s voice cut through the hall. “Y/N!” he called, “You can’t, Father will be angry.” he looked at you angrily, “Aren’t you meant to be with Mother? Go to her,” he frowned, “Now.”

“Are you okay?” you opened your eyes, and were greeted with the sight of Floki, crouched on the other side of the stream, staring at you.

“Forgive me, Floki, I was thinking.” you said, embarrassed, and stood up abruptly, “Is everything okay?”

“Yes,” he said, still staring at you. He hadn’t even blinked. “What were you thinking about?” 

“Well,” you shrugged, gathering your skirts and hopping over the thinnest part of the stream, “more… remembering.”

“You still think of your old life?” he asks, not unkindly, but giggled unsettlingly.

“Sometimes,” you looked at him, and he led you down the path back to your new home, “It’s still new, all of this.”

“But you still pray to your false God.” he did not look at you, but seemed accusatory.

“Rarely,” you said, feeling melancholic, “Christ has no power here, I find myself praying to your Gods.”

He spun round so quickly you almost walked into him, “Our Gods will never be yours,” he bristled, “I have seen Christians betray us too many times before.” You wondered what he referred to. “The last ended up dead, by my hand,” he continued, “So do not make false pretences by our Gods.”

“I promise you, they are not false,” you wanted to explain, but could see it would be futile, so you walked the rest of the way to Kattegat in silence. You heard a bird calling from the North, sounding like a grouse of sorts. 

The hunts were your favourite part of the summer. Your father had always insisted on your attendance, despite your mother’s protests, due to your skills in archery. You spent the best part of your summers with your brothers and cousins, learning to track and kill animals (not officially of course - it wasn’t proper.)

It always involved the smaller kills - grouse and pheasants to feed the company until the boar or stag was finally killed. These were your favourite. A few would go out and find dinner. Your well practiced archery provided most meals and food for the noblemen of the company. This particular summer - that of your fifteenth birthday - you had gone hunting for grouse with your father. It was a rare couple of hours that you spent with only the company of your horses. You always remembered those sort of times.

A bird call - a repetitive “cuckoo, cuckoo” sounding every minute or so - had come from the north. You father stopped and put his hand on your shoulder. “Your mother told me once that a bird call from the North is an omen of great tragedy,” he paused as the bird called again, “And she’s never been wrong.” 

He started his horse again, riding towards a meal.

You thought of how your cousin had died that very evening - a snake bite in the woods, and hurried on, to where Floki waited for you at the edge-most structures of the town.

“Your husband asked for your presence at dinner,” he said briskly, “I wouldn’t ask why.” 

He giggled again.

*

Loud, drunk laughter filled the hall, fires blazing and cups full. Everyone in the town seemed to be crowded into the room, but you felt removed from it all. Your husband and his brothers were spread about the room, talking and chatting with various people, while you stood in the shadows, studying the lively interactions between the vikings. You watched how they argued and laughed and talked, pure, constant passion, each in their element, doing whatever they pleased. It was such a foreign environment, You couldn’t understand how these people were so free, but how you had been so controlled in your home country.

“Darling,” you turned to face Hvitserk.

“My Prince?” you greeted, with a discreet curtsey.

“Why are you always so polite?” he was slurring slightly, but still coherent.

“I’m sorry, My Prince, in my old home, it was improper to call anyone by any name other than their title.” you explained, flustered.

“Is that what this is?” at the obvious confusion in your face, he smirked, “Your home?”

“This is where I live now, so, by definition, yes.” you thought of the place that you used to call home. You thought of your brothers, Geoffrey and Theo, always kind, and Arthur and your parents, always proper, if proper meant cruel.

“My mother said home is where the heart is.” he swayed slightly, and you held his shoulders so he couldn’t fall, “Is your heart in Kattegat?”

“My heart is long gone,” you whispered, knowing he couldn’t hear, “I don’t know where it’s gone, or how to find it…”

He looked confused, hurt even, so you looked up brightly, “Come on, Prince, you should go to bed. You’re drunk.”

“No!” he laughed, “I’m just a little happy.” 

You wrapped an arm around his waist, and he leant on you, so you struggled your way to the door, passing pleasantries with Bjorn, explaining taking him to bed, and then found yourselves in the cold air outside.

You dragged Hvitserk to your hut, and sat him down on the bed. He sat there, happily oblivious, as you pulled off his boots and belt. You went to pull his top over his head, but he stopped you. “I have a wife.” he said, you laughed.

“Oh?” you smirked, “What’s she like?”

“She’s beautiful,” you had distracted him enough to start to help him change to his nightclothes, “she’s from a Christian place, but Floki says she’s beginning to believe in our Gods. I don’t think she likes me that much, but I want us to be happy.” he sighed, and you lay him down, pulling the covers over him, before joining him in bed, “I want her to be happy. She’s really clever, you know. She speaks Frankish and English, and Latin and our language. I think she’s sad, but I don’t know how to help her.”

You realised you were crying, but were distracted from your needless embarrassment when you were pulled into his side. You fell asleep slowly, long after the party had ended and everyone in the town seemed to be slumbering. It was the most peaceful you’d felt since you’d left home.

Home.

[satsuki2406]

OPEN SKY  Bakugou Katsuki x Reader

"...And never, ever forget that, your dreams are the wings that'll help you fly."

(L/N)(Y/N) has always been forced to live according to others' expectations. As a member of the powerful and influential (L/N) Family, she has had to live with the heavy weight of seeing others write her destiny with no choice but just obey. But when (Y/N) finally decides to risk it all to take the only opportunity to regain the control of her own life, everything ends up going horribly wrong. Surrendered and disappointed, she receives one last chance to prove to herself and to U.A, along with some unexpected help that this was not a crazy and meaningless waste of time.

Maybe this plan could work after all...

PAIRING: (Bakugou Katsuki x Reader)

GENRE/WARNINGS: Romance, Fluff, Angst, Mentions of sex, My poor attempt of comedy, family dysfunctionality, Strong language (Courtesy of Lord Explosion Murder 💥), Manga Spoilers.

STATUS: On going

Chapter 1: Failure

Chapter 2: Sometimes the Greatest Hero of All is a Good Friend

Masterlist \(￣︶￣*\))

3-Her Start

The weekend you spent with your best friend was full of good memories and laughter. You recovered your self-trust and conviction to keep going. But as blissful as it was it quickly came to an end. Before you knew it, it was Monday again, which means school, fortunately, this was the last week before graduation, even if you mom forced you to go to that insipid private academy in Tokyo, you'll keep chasing your aspirations no matter what. It was still I little bit cold but the weather was slowly changing as the spring got closer. Over your school uniform, you were wearing the school uniform’s coat that had their logo embroidered and your fluffy (f/c) scarf to keep you warm on your way to the school door.

In the blink of an eye, you and Momo already got to the shoe lockers to change into your respective uwabaki.* While changing your shoes a thought came to your mind, you wanted to touch the matter but didn't know how without making things awkward. "Hey Momo, your test, for the recommended students, you already had it right?"

A little taken aback by your comment Momo hesitated a little before answering unsure. "Y-Yeah, that's correct, I wasn't sure if I could tell you, you know..."

"Please don't feel bad about sharing your successes with me, I would be more than happy to hear how it went for you, you're my friend and I feel happy that you're one step closer to your dream, after all, you also want to be a hero, just like me. You were nice enough to spend the last weekend with me to make me feel better I didn't even ask you once how was it for you, I'm a pampered brat, aren’t I?"

Momo smiled sweetly at you in understanding. "What about if I fill you out on the details of my day at U.A during lunch?"

"Sounds like a plan."

🍱🍱🍱

"Alright ladies this is all for today, there are another 5 minutes before the bell rings. So, you're allowed to socialize in the meantime, please let's keep things calm and low volume please."

"Hey, Momo!~ I've got an idea! They are showing a really good movie right now! Do you want to see it with me?"

"I'll love to, but my mother requested my presence at home as soon as school is finished, my chauffeur is already waiting for me outside, so, unfortunately, I see myself unable to go. But aren't you still grounded?"

"Oh, right, I forgot it..." You puffed off your cheeks in annoyance.

Just in cue, a small vibration came from your skirt pocket adverting you of an incoming message.

'Oh, is Nobu-san, I wonder what happened?'

Good afternoon (Y/N)-sama, I wanted to notify you beforehand that this morning you received two letters; one of them is from the Tokyo's Science Academy, probably respecting your upcoming enrollment.

'Ugh, of course...'

Regarding the second letter, the U.A’s crew is way competent and faster than we thought, I made sure to put the envelope under one of your bed pillows, please make sure to check it out as soon as you arrive home so Xiù-sama won't notice it. I already sent the chauffeur to pick you up as soon as possible.

"."

".."

"..."

"...."

"....."

"WhAaAt?!"

"(L/N)-san! I strongly urge you to refrain from shouting in class!"

"S-sorry, Tanaka-sensei" The slight giggles of your classmates could be heard, but it was short-lived thanks to the shrill sound of the school bell announcing the end of the school day.

"(Y/N) are you ok? You look a bit pale. Something happened at home?" Momo asked, but unfortunately for your friend the last of your worries was explain yourself. Without giving it too much of a thought you took your school bag and burst out the class."SorryMomonotimetoexplainseeyoutomorrowbyeeee!!"

Before she could even understand what you just said, Momo couldn't do anything more than see you disappear among the crowd flooding the halls.

"What in heaven just happened?"

🏃‍♀️🏃‍♀️🏃‍♀️💨

After sprinting to the school gate, you could spot in the distance a black limo, Sasaki-san, the same chauffeur that brought your mom to U.A that fateful afternoon one week ago, was waiting outside the car, straight as a lamppost with a serious almost bored look on his face. After you finally approached him, he lightly bowed his head and greeted you. "Good afternoon, (Y/N)-sama, I hope you had a pleasant day" His tome was monotone and robotic, almost like he just repeated a script that had learned out of habit at this point. "Good afternoon Sasaki-san, I did thank you, and yourself?" 

“Lovely indeed” he said almost sarcastically and opened the car's door for you. You quickly made your way in and he closed the door behind you.

Lost in your thoughts time passed faster than you imagined. Before you could notice a glimpse of your house appeared among the trees. The imposing structure made its way through the vast gardens that adorned its surroundings.

You wanted to just get there and finally get the closure you needed about this whole situation, leave your guilt and disappointment behind so you could start over again and move forward to your goal in a more positive note. Up to your room was a blur, you think that maybe a couple of maids greeted you on your way but you were too busy to notice or care, did you even take your shoes off at the genkan*? Who knows, who cares.

You opened your door desperately, closing and locking it to avoid being interrupted. Fixing your eyes on the exact place your fate laid made your heart race like never before, you started walking there slowly, almost cautiously, to sprint with all your might, throwing yourself at the bed and tossing the soft obstacles in your way to find in the middle, a crisp white envelope with a red wax seal, with the iconic logo printed on it. Dread and uncertainty invaded you, were you ready for this? What if they think you were not hero material after all? ‘No! let's just rip the bandit off at once and get over this already’. With a surge of newfound courage, you opened the envelope, tearing the seal apart in the process. Once it was open you could find a letter and a round metal object inside, you took it in your hand to analyze it closer but suddenly a bright light was shooted from its center, startling you and letting it fall obstreperously on the floor.

"Ahhh!"

The light then elongated and shaped itself into some kind of screen, showing what looks to be some kind of small white animal. "Greetings, young lady! My name is Nezu, the one who could be a mouse or a dog or a bear but the only important thing is...I'm the Principal!"

"T-The Principal?!"

"Very well then, I assume that you would prefer me to go right to the point, you must be anxious right now" You gulped nervously and nodded your head as he could see you. "In your written exam you got an outstanding score of 87! Well done!"

'At least I did something right' You thought melancholically.  

"But..."

'Here it comes'

"...Unfortunately, you weren't that successful during your practical exam, in the end, you only earned 31 points, that, as you must know, is not enough to approve this test, since the minimal score is 45"

'I knew it...'

Your vision started to get blurred due to the fat tears that started to accumulate in your eyes. You knew this would happen, but that didn't make it less frustrating.

“However, there’s something that especially caught my attention, and although I’m not a doctor or any medicine specialist by any means I noticed you looked a little off, sick perhaps.Your movements looked sluggish, your breathing seem even more labored than it would have been in the situation you were in not to mention you passed out in the middle of the exam.”

“You’ll see, here at U.A we take special care of the whole process involved in our admission trials, not only to make sure that every single step is performed correctly, the rules are followed and the safety measures compiled but also to prevent the usual improper practices like fraud and cheating, reason why we had installed thousands of cameras with the propose to keep a close eye on all of you.”

'Wow, U.A really goes over the top about everything' You sweatdropped.

"That's the reason why after analyzing your performance carefully, the teaching staff and myself were awed when we notice that indeed you were straining yourself and even managed to save one of the applicants of the attack of a three-pointer, with the last of your strength you pushed him far away from danger knowing the little time you had and your deteriorated condition, you sacrificed yourself for the wellbeing of a stranger, without hesitation"

"Save? But I thought I could do anything at all!-"

"There's a phrase that says that we rise by lifting others, thanks to your selfless help, this young man you saved could complete his test and also had the time and strength enough to get your back after you blacked out. He was also nice enough to handle you to Recovery Girl's capable hands. As you could see, you received some extra points in your final score, these were Rescue Points, a panel of judges conformed by the teachers watch closely these battles and award this kind of heroic gestures, which boosted your original score of 14 points."

"And is because of your heroic spirit that I'm here, in front of you, to make you an offer.” Your breathing hitched, your eyes opened like saucers and you could swear that your heart stopped for a second. 

“We of course never do this kind of exceptions, a once in a lifetime opportunity per se, but I, the Principal, had decided to give you a chance to start again, it may be more competitive than the first test you took but, what is the life of a hero without a good challenge?"

"A-A second chance?!" Your teary eyes widened at this revelation. Was U.A, the U.A High School, not only seeing the potential in you but also wanting to give you another chance?!

'This is so crazy!' You thought tearing up.

"Usually some students, as a precautionary measure apply for both the Hero Course and the General Studies Course, in case they fail to get in the first one, if they meet the necessary requirements could hit a spot in the latter one, with the hopes of competing internally for one of the coveted positions in our prestigious Heroism Department...."

"God! What I didn't think of that?! Like a security net that will catch you in case you fall, clever..." You pondered

"As you well know you did not opt for this, but we had decided unanimously to make a space for you in the General Studies Course as your second chance and a fresh start here, at U.A."

"As I mentioned before, the competition is more ferocious internally because of the really small quantity positions, sometimes there's only one transferred student or not transfers at all, so you must work hard because you need at least 85% of approval from the teachers to get into the Hero course."

"So, I need to make merits to get in, I wonder how though-"

"You must be wondering, how to get that approval and enter the world of your dreamed career?!  Let me enlighten you then! There are several ways to do this but the most common and effective is..."

"...Is?!"

"Is...!"

"The U.A Sports Festival! The annual competition that Japan is so crazy about that forgot about the Olympic Games and where everybody can take a look at the future and witness the rising of their future heroes! And of course the perfect place for you to show what you're made of! The U.A Sports Festival not only is a great chance for the Hero Course pupils to show their abilities, but for the ones who were left behind, that they also have a lot to offer, and a chance that I'm sure you won't waste at all."

"I won't!"

"So please, let us know what you think, We already see inmense potential on you, we think-no, we believe that you will not disappoint. All the important information, forms and consent letters are attached and listed inside the envelope, if you have any questions please don't hesitate to contact us at our website www.uahigh.com.jp/newstudentexperience to chat live with one of our representatives or call us at 1-800-UAHIGHJ (1-800-824-4445) or drop by at our headquarters in U.A. Remember that the due date to send the forms with your parents' authorization and uniform measurements and specifications is March 25th!"

"Oh my God, I got in... I GOT IN!!! Yes, I did it!" You then started to jump on your bed carried by the excitement, then a little detail crossed your mind. "Crap! My mom would never sign the authorization form! She'll rather take off her own eyes than do that! I don't want to involve dad in this, he's been receiving mom's colder shoulder lately and he looks kinda depressed, just remember the fight hey had that night give me the hives. What can I do? How can I-"

"This device will self-destruct in 10 seconds!"

"...What."

"10!"

"9!"

"Oh God, Oh God No! WAIT, WAIT, WAIT!!"

"8!"

As best as you could you quickly jumped off your bed and hid inside your walk-in closet closing and locking the door behind you. "Was it that necessary to make it explode?!" You closed your eyes and covered your ears as waiting for some kind of impact.

"4!"

"3!"

"2!"

"1!"

"..."

"..."

"..."

"Just kidding! HAHAHAHAHA!!!"

"..."

"WHAAAAT?!"

"Excuse me (Y/N)-sama? Are you ok?" One of the maids asked while knocking your door. You ran out of the closet and threw all evidence of your recent conversation with the fury Principal under your bed.

"Y-Yes! I'm fine! P-Perfectly fine!"

"I heard some screams and voices inside; do you have any guest? Do you want me to bring some refreshments?" Immediately you opened the door and were faced with the maid that you liked the least, she was a middle-aged woman who always drove herself in a hypocritical and double-face kind of way.

You could see from pretty far away that she didn't like you the least, looking her in the eyes was enough to know, the resentment and indifference were palpable. For her, you were nothing more than a spoiled filthy rich brat and that was more than enough to hate you. She also was a notable gossipmonger and was of general knowledge among the service crew that she could not keep a secret for dear life, which your mother took advantage of to monitor you and the house in general when she was absent. All in exchange of a juicy bonus in her weekly check.

"There's nobody with me Uwasaki-san, I was watching some YouTube videos, and an ad came out, a really loud one." You opened your door a little more to show her, she peeked into your room a little to look closer, everything was in order, except for the dropped pillows and a panda plush, it was just like you said, all she could find was a flat screen with a paused video showing in it.

She gave you a skeptical look first before convincing herself you were saying the truth and gave you one of her infamous fake smiles. "I see, if you need anything, please don't hesitate to let me know, I'll be close by fixing one of the guest's rooms."

"Oh, who's coming?" You asked, half trying to diffuse the awkwardness, half out of truly curiosity.

"Kaguya-sama, she asked Xiù-sama for advice in one of her university projects, Chemistry I think"

'It makes sense, with the kind of quirk she has, chemistry was always one of her strengths'

"I see."

"Alright, if you excuse me, I'll be taking my leaving."

After this, she turned and walk in the direction of the guest's rooms mumbling complains about how slow this day has been so far, with nothing interesting to report, not juicy scandal to uncover and how she hoped that the rest of the week could deliver something better. As you heard her steps get lost in the immensity of the hallway, checking she was gone for sure, you closed your door leaning your back on it while you slowly slide to the floor.

'That was close!, I've never been happier to forget to turn the tv off before going to school, I must be careful, I have to find a way to convince them to let me go, after the second chance I received, I can't back up, I don't want to. It's decided then! I’ll go to U.A no matter what.'

"Hmm... So, U.A? Maybe get you out of my way would be easier than I thought, dear cousin."

*Uwabaki (上履き): They are a type of Japanese shoes worn indoors at home, school or certain companies and public buildings where street shoes are prohibited.

*Genkan (玄関): are traditional areas for houses, apartments or buildings. It is usually located inside the building directly in front of the door. The primary function of the genkan is to leave your shoes before entering the main part of a house or building.

-The word 'Uwasa' (噂) means gossip combined with the kanji 'Ki' (機) or machine forms the word Rumor or Gossip Machine (噂機) Uwasaki.

-I'm learning Japanese on my own, so I thought it could be interesting and fun to try to construct some (Last)names inspired in the oc’s quirks and personality just like Horikoshi does. As I said I'm a beginner and all the feedback is welcome! If you have suggestions or corrections let me know! I'm open to learning! 😊 

🏷Taglist

@alex-sulli​  Hope you like it ~\(≧▽≦)/~

[judgmentofcorruption]

Episode 2–Encounter with the Screenwriter; Scene 5

Judgment of Corruption, pages 65-72

“Witch Trials Gets First Innocence Verdict”—those were the words published as the headline of the local Leviantan newspaper, “Java Gazette”.

Hanma was reading this newspaper with narrowed eyes as he sat in his chair in the bureau director’s room.

“I come back from Marlon and find this state of affairs waiting for me. You’ve really done it now…Gallerian,” he said to Gallerian standing across from him. “I expect I don’t need to tell you why I called you down here.”

“You’re gonna—going to--hand me down some sort of punishment…Is that right?”

“Well, yes, I suppose…” Hanma said, before going quiet for a moment in thought.

“…Gallerian. You know why I left the Dark Star Bureau to travel recently, don’t you?”

“Some business in Marlon—I heard you were attending the wedding of the Empress Dowager.”

“Indeed. That was the foremost reason, but the various higher-ups of the USE member nations were gathering at the time, and so there were several informal meetings being held as well. I attended one of them, and there I had a chance to speak with the commander of the World Police.”

“Wow…”

“Bizarre events have continued to plague the world after the death of Elluka Ma Clockworker. In Marlon I hear they are currently dealing with some disruption to their ocean ecosystem. Something about being unable to fish due to the large numbers of Ziz Tiama showing up in the water.”

Ziz Tiama was the name of a kind of octopus.

Hanma continued speaking.

“The World Police are currently looking for someone who was supposedly ‘Elluka’s Apprentice’. Their existence is certain but the details are murky. All that we do know is that this ‘apprentice’ is a man.”

“A man…Does that mean he’s not a ‘witch’?”

“Oh no, he is indeed a witch. All people who can use magic, regardless of gender, are classified as ‘witches’. There was actually a case of a man having been tried for violating the special laws on magic…I’m sure it’s been recorded in a collection of judicial precedents?”

“...That’s right. It completely slipped my mind. I’ll go read it over again later.”

“Keep at your studies. …In any case, the threat that witches pose yet remains. Unfortunately, the situation is such that there isn’t all that much that the Dark Star Bureau can do about that. It is for that very reason, then.”

Hanma readjusted his bearing and focused his gaze directly at Gallerian.

“We must pass down judgment on the witches that the World Police capture. To get rid of our anxieties, if only a little. But this time you shirked that duty. …First I would like to hear your reason why.”

“—As the director, shouldn’t you know the reason why already?” Gallerian declared without a trace of timidity.

Hanma slowly shook his head. “Of course not. I can’t read your thoughts. …But well, I am not without my own speculations. Such as—you negated a witch’s execution out of your own personal feelings, given that you are Elluka’s son.”

“…”

Gallerian was merely silent, neither denying nor agreeing with that statement.

Hanma grinned at seeing that.

“If that was the case, then this matter would be a simple one. However. I have watched you, these two years. I certainly can’t say that you have no reckless emotional ups and downs due to your youth…but I also can’t imagine you are the sort of thoughtless person who would change a verdict simply out of his own personal feelings.”

“…”

“If you gave this verdict with some sort of plan in mind, I would like to hear what it is.”

“…Just as you said, director, we have no countermeasures against ‘witches’,” Gallerian began, appearing to have made his resolve. “That is because we know too little about witches and magic. We have only been able to learn about them from dubious information given to us by history scholars. So the trials that deal with violations of the special law on witchcraft are little more than baseless debates grounded in conjecture, from beginning to end. …I have reasoned that in order to change this state of affairs, we need the assistance of someone who knows more on magic.”

“And you say this person exists?”

“…If you want to know about witches, then who better to ask than a witch herself?”

“—Ha ha, I see…So that’s your game.” Hanma stood from his chair and walked up to Gallerian directly. “So you mean to make Kayo Sudou an ally…But I don’t see that going so smoothly.”

“I have some persuasion on my side. She is a devotee of Elluka, who admired her so much that she changed her face to look like hers.”

“And you are the only son that Elluka left behind. …Heh heh heh…Ha ha ha!”

Hanma suddenly started to laugh loudly.

“What’s so funny?”

“Nothing—Pardon me. No offense intended. …I once knew someone who had tried to gain information by seeking the collaboration of a witch. …I was just suddenly reminded of him.”

“…By that you don’t mean—” Gallerian appeared about to ask something, but then closed his mouth as though thinking better of it. “No…Never mind.”

“—Very well, go ahead with your idea. I will entrust this matter to you. But…bear this in mind. Do not be taken in by the witch. If something like that winds up being the case—then I will have no choice but to pass judgment on you.”

“…Of course.”

“Then fine. Get going—Or, actually, wait just a second.” Hanma appeared about to end the conversation for a moment, but then once more sat down in his chair and looked back at Gallerian. “I have to publicly give you at least some kind of censure. Let me think…How does ‘thirty days suspension’ sound?”

“I’m not in any position to refuse.”

“True. Then enjoy your break. …I won’t be having you under any surveillance during that time, so do whatever you wish.”

“…You have my thanks.”

Gallerian bowed and then left the room.

.

Those who received an innocence verdict at trial were always released the same day. But due to regulations they needed to inform the bureau of where they were going to be staying afterwards.

Gallerian was absorbed in thought alone in the hallway, clutching in hand a piece of paper containing Kayo Sudou’s current whereabouts.

“Pixie…That’s in Levianta’s northernmost region.”

The land of Levianta was vast. On foot it would take several days to reach Pixie from the capital Alicegrad, where the Dark Star Bureau was located.

Even in the event that things went well with that, the route there was a desolate snow field where there was scant civilization. It would be fine if he were able to avoid being there on a day when there was a blizzard, but if he were to be caught up in one there was a huge risk of him being stranded there.

“Even going by carriage, no coach would agree to take me there without significant compensation. …If only I could borrow a gasoline-powered automobile from somewhere—”

A gasoline powered automobile was a motorized, wheeled box that humans had developed recently—I think within the last hundred years or so. It was extremely expensive; Gallerian’s family had one that was fairly worn out, but he didn’t own one himself.

“…What about Loki? He told me that he’d bought a new automobile recently…Maybe I could borrow his.”

By pure coincidence, at that very moment Loki was walking through the hallway from the opposite direction.

“Hey, Loki. I’ve got a favor to—”

“Oh, Gallerian. How did your punishment go?” Loki asked first, cutting off Gallerian’s words.

“Right, that…I got a thirty day suspension.”

“--! A suspension…I see…” Loki’s expression grew quite melancholic.

“Hey hey, don’t you get depressed over it. It’s better than getting sacked.”

“…That’s true…Then, I guess that means you’re off tomorrow.”

“Well, I suppose so.”

“—And hey, I’m going on my vacation after tomorrow…Let’s go ‘hunting’.”

“No, how many times do I have to tell you—”

“There’s a great hunting spot near Pixie. It’s a little far, but with my automobile we can probably get there in half a day.”

“--! Pixie, you say?”

That was the very place where Kayo was thought to be living, where Gallerian had been planning to go.

“Yeah, there’s this forest nearby, and—”

“…Alright, I’ll go.”

“Really!?”

Loki grinned happily.

“Only, there’s this place I’d like to go after we’re done hunting. It’s in the village of Pixie so it shouldn’t take all that long to get there, I would think.”

“That’s fine. I’ll make preparations for everything we’ll need to hunt. And my servant.”

“A servant? Are we not going alone?”

“I can’t drive my automobile. So we’re taking my butler along.”

“A butler…You’re taking him away from the family?”

“He’s my own personal butler. Each member of the Freezis family has their own personal butler assigned to them.”

“Wow…That’s pretty incredible.”

.

And so, two days later.

Gallerian wound up heading to Pixie with Loki and his steward.

To have fun hunting.

And, to meet Kayo Sudou.

<<prev------directory------next>>

[telesthisia]

Heya guys just a few recaps of past headcanons on here because I legit went my city now with this blog and have too much ;v;

Hylia is an obscure and lost goddess by the Downfall Era, because of the vast records that only the Hyrulean Family possess most of the members are aware of all the eras that goes on in the official Zelda Timeline. BUT the final battle between Ganondorf and Link, with Link being the loser much of Hyrule’s history is lost to the great destruction that came with Link’s failure in the battle. With the brief power trip, Ganondorf only briefly succumb to the madness that comes with the Triforce that draws out the greed of humanity (I mean, Hilda and Yuga are both very good examples to what happens when you only have greed on your mind, no matter how will intended you are as with Hilda). It takes a sound mind and heart to wield the awesome powers of the Triforce... that in mind Hyrule more or less BURNED to the ground and so many things were lost before OOT Zelda and the sages sealed him away. And aside from the royal archives hidden away from the public, not many people know about the history of the nation. And well, let’s not forget the imprisoning war that went on in ALTTP as well as the plagues and disasters that hit before Agahnim came, so suffice to say even in Zelda’s time Hyrule was to shit. The only existing reference to Hylia is Lake Hylia and most believe the name is from the word Hylian so :’) 

As such, when she took the crown after the events of ALTTP as the sole heir since the Triforce could not revive the dead, she wishes to lead the nation to the Golden Age before war plagued the lands and before Agahnim fucked shit up. 

People are maaaaaad salty with OOT Link while OOT Zelda is on thin ice, which is why there are little to no references to them in the downfall period unlike with the other periods of time. ALTTP Zelda has so many feels for the OOT squad really after reading up the history about them.  

 Weeps this entire post is too much to shorten but very important to take note of!

Zelda is very OP in that she has the power of the goddess Hylia, power from the sages, and light force but it works against her rather than for her because Poor Health Issues™ and to add to that, she’s known as the “holy sacrifice”. Meaning those who want to resurrect Ganon much like Twinrova tried to must use Zelda as sacrifice for that, meaning her life for his. As such, she’s very much a big target for those who align themselves with Agahnim/Ganondorf or anyone who wishes to use her powers for dark arts really. Being Zelda is suffering ;v;!!! For the most part, she tries to keep her light magic on the DL but many are aware of the mysterious powers flowing through the royal family veins. 

In that regard, since Hylia is more or less forgotten, no one really knows that the royal family actually did in fact descend from gods. It’s funny, irl many kings lied about coming from gods to keep their power but in LOZ, the royal family try to present themselves as ordinary people to hide the secret of the fact that they came from a goddess. Mostly to prevent issues that could arise from this... :’) 

So with that in mind, what can Zelda do? She can heal, use telepathy, bless weapons, seal away darkness, break down seals with the help of the seven maidens, clairvoyance... and yeah that’s it I’m pretty sure!

She is a romantic, the edgy gothic kind that loves nature, heroic tales, and focuses on emotions but also explores the morbid and melancholic. And also a hopeless romantic but keeps this side hidden, all those romance novels are a secret that no one must know.  

[lion-hearted-wolf]

silently tasting your whispers || Fragile x Higgs { 1076 words }  

- aka I'm under lockdown so I got plenty of time to write and write and write about my new obsession these two –

(Prompt by promptedintowriting, “Kisses tasting like alcohol”)

____

"It's a stupid world, you know. A fucking stupid and complicated world."

There aren't many places one can appreciate the night while drinking something, but those old wooden boxes on the back of the warehouse will do.

Clic.

Higgs opens one of the cans, and that sounds makes the air tremble for a moment. The beer tastes good, like fresh wheat and clean air (isn't it strange how timefall can ruin things yet make them grow at the same time?). But something else lingers on his tongue, a taste difficult to recognize: bittersweet, melancholic yet hopeful. Something linked to an old memory he can't recall. Perhaps because his life's changing for the better, and he's learning to leave the past behind? He can’t tell.

It's inebriant. Almost tastes like freedom.

He opens the second can and hands it to Fragile. The girl accepts the beer with a smile, taking the first sip after a long breath.

"Maybe. But we can still change it."

Higgs glances at her eyes, at the delicate curve of her lips. She's barely aware of her power - not the DOOMS, this other one. Her unshakable faith in everything good their world has to offer. Since the first time they met, that hope has drawn him to her. How can she always be so focused on her goal, even when life crumbles around her and she's too tired to collect the pieces once more?

"Mmh." She can also leave him speechless. Another power she has no knowledge of. "How can you be so sure? People are people, after all. One day we build something, the day after it's all in ruins. It's a stupid world, I told you. Sometimes I wonder if it's really worth our efforts."

Fragile sighs. The sky above them is strangely clearer, spots of chiral clouds filling distant, dark corners. She marvels at the stars: he lifts his head too, leaving his mind wander in that comforting darkness. When he was younger, darkness scared him. His father always told him stories about monsters and dangers hiding in it, about cruel people and an endless night they had to flee from. We need to hide, Higgs. You have to trust me. You must do what I tell you.

But he was curious, like every child his age: he simply wanted more than four walls and a wretched camp bed. So, he disobeyed. And when he ventured outside of their bunker for the first time, the first time he smelled the air of the night, his fears disappeared in a moment. The night sky was beautiful. Almost leaving him breathless, too vast and incredible to be described. Fear had no place in it.

Lately his uncledaddy would have beaten the hell out of him, but he never regretted that adventure. He had never been so excited in his whole life.

"You're right, it's a stupid world. But if only a single person could do their part and keep believing, we can too."

Fragile takes another sip. She puts the can down, then turns her head towards him. Their fingers touch for a brief moment, until he takes her hand - an urge he can't control. But she doesn't hold back.

Her hand feels soft, gentle in his.

How can she be so damn beautiful, Higgs thinks, surprising himself with that thought.

"You're an optimist, Fragile. The only one left, probably."

"That's why you like me so much."

Touché. His past self would have probably pulled back, desperately searching for a word to save himself from another embarassing moment. But this Higgs is a different person now. He caresses her cheek, tracing small circles on her skin. You've never been so close to a girl before, a tiny voice inside his head reminds him. You don't know how to behave. He doesn't mind. They live in a stupid and complicated world, yeah, where every social habit has been replaced with a simpler, paler version of it, but deep down he knows too well what to do. And her lips seem so soft - they almost call him.

So Higgs kisses her.

It's a soft kiss at first, so shy and gentle he can't even recognize himself in it, but after a while - when Fragile returns it with an energy that makes him almost wince - it becomes more passionate, more needing.

Desperate.

She tastes like alchool and excitement, her lips are cold and wet and he could kiss them forever. Fragile runs a hand through his hair, slowing down only when she feels his fingers softly touch her nape. She doesn't hesitate, not anymore.

Her mouth, her tongue, are full of a silent plea, a prayer begging him not stop, not to leave. She's fierce, and kind, and sad, there's a hint of sadness in her that never goes away, even whenever he succeeds in making her laugh... maybe because, after all, they share the same melancholy. The feeling he gets when he looks at one of the rare sunsets their world still has to give, wondering if there will ever be a new one. Nostalgia. A desire for beauty he can't understand.

She breaks the kiss a minute - or maybe a year - after and looks at him. Her eyes shine with all the unspoken words she’d love to tell him but keeps hidden away, thousand tiny stars gleaming at the same time. She's close, always too close. It's almost as he can taste her whispers.

Yeah, that's why I like you so much, he nods to himself, maybe only in his mind. He doesn't know. The only thing he knows for sure is that he never drank a better beer before.

Suddenly, he starts laughing and she follows him. They’re probably both too drunk and pleased to handle their emotions, Higgs thinks - or perhaps that night came just when they needed it the most. When that laughter ends, they look at each other, both dizzy and still too excited to get back in and go on with their lives. She places another kiss on his lips.

Higgs lays his head on her lap and looks at the stars above him. His mouth still tastes like alcohol. Like Fragile.