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writingsbychlo · 2 years ago

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HOW TO SAVE A LIFE | rhysand

summary; trapped under the mountain, starfall has always been your favourite holiday and you miss it. tonight, this time, you have one opportunity to share it with someone.

word count; 5577

notes; starfall day 3!! but also, go easy on me, I didn't proofread this. it's like midnight here, I am exhausted, let's not judge obvious mistakes 😅 also, please note, this takes place UTM, and references to rhys' SA are alluded to, so read with caution!!

‘how to save a life’ moodboard

The corridors were utterly silent as you paced up and down. Back and forth, back and forth. Your eyes flickered to the shadows across the floor moving through the open windows, your only way of measuring how much time passed was with the moon’s manipulations. As the shadows encroached closer and closer to the small scuff you’d marked as your limit on the floor, you gave a heavy sigh.

Your thumb was in your mouth, chewing the nail anxiously, and as that thought came into focus, you removed it, scoffing idly at yourself. You weren’t in trouble. Yet. In fact, you could leave right now, and nobody would have even known it was you, you’d fly right under the radar, as you’d always done, and bring no attention to yourself.

Who were you kidding? You weren’t going anywhere. Not even as the ceaseless pounding of your heart threatened to crack your ribs, not even as the lingering fear in the back of your mind about what you’d already done to get here made you dizzy. You were waiting it out.

Your gaze flickered back to the silvery streaks pouring in through the window.

Time’s almost up.

You finally paused your pacing, staring down at it as darkness crept out of silver, marking your timer. You waited for a second longer, lifting the edge of your dress and poking at it with a scuffed shoe.

This is it.

You weren’t sure whether it was crushing relief or crushing disappointment weighing you down, that sank your shoulders into a slump that made you feel as though you were holding up the whole world. Shaking out a sigh and loosening your shoulders, that relaxation lasted for only a second, before a dark chuckle emanate from the shadows, and you were whipping around to peer into them.

You didn’t see him at first, gaping at the darkness until he stepped out, looking every bit like a devil dressed in finery. Purple eyes glowing in the moonlight, the sharp lines of his face like jagged peaks in the dark of the hall, tall and intimidating, with a sinister smirk sat on his lips.

“You, Little Mouse, are the one who called me here?” Like magic - well, with magic - the letter you’d scrawled in a hurry and slipped under his door mere hours ago appeared between his fingers. Scratchy, torn brown parchment, with other notes and lists and words scribbled out and crossed, reused over and over because it was all you had.

You steeled your nerves, rolling your shoulders back and tipping your chin up to look at him as he stepped close, close enough to smell the luxurious soap that had your head spinning once again. “I did.”

Your voice only trembled a little as you spoke, and you were proud to get the words out at all. You’d never been afraid of Rhysand, but at this moment, as all that big half-Illyrian warrior and High Lord stood before you, you’d be a fool not to be at least a little intimidated. “For what?”

He all but purred the words, smirk widening a little more, brows rising at you and his head cocked to the side.

“A bargain… a fuck… a good look at true power? What could you,” He cast a scornful and slow stare over your body, the torn rags you called a dress, the scuffed and scratched shoes, the messy hair and dirt under your fingernails that made you hide your hands behind your back. “Possibly want from me?”

Your mouth dropped open, words silenced as you tried to work out what to say to him, but his sneer made you second-guess yourself. Maybe this was a bad idea, maybe everything you thought was wrong, maybe-

You didn’t get a chance to think any further, before the sound of pounding footsteps and angry voices bouncing off of the stone walls made every decision for you. If you were caught here, lowly and unworthy up in the higher courtrooms of the mountain palace, you’d be flogged for sure. Worse, they’d be sure to get the truth out of you, sure to get the truth of everything you’d done just to get here tonight.

For that, they’d kill you.

In a spur of boldness that you’d most likely come to regret, your arm shot out, saving him as well as yourself as your nimble fingers wrapped around his muscle-corded forearm. Even through heavy layers of expensive black silk shirts and embroidered blazers, you could feel him tense at the abrupt contact. Dragging him along behind you, you didn’t hesitate, weaving through corridors and pathways, past floor-to-ceiling windows and being sure to remain out of sight.

He spluttered behind you for the first few seconds, almost enough to pull a smile at your lips with the image of the terrifying Lord of Night spluttering, but your panic was far too high to even entertain that kind of thought right now. He yanked his arm free, a growl on his lips as your fingernails scratched at the soft fabric of his blazer, surely messing up some of the threads, but right now, your adrenaline was too high to be concerned with such trivial fears.

Everywhere you turned, voices could be hurried; hurried and panicked and frantic. Boots marched, people corralled out of their way, heels tapping and weapons scraping along the floor as they were dragged. A busy, busy night indeed.

All your fault, a voice taunted in your head, a tendril of regret finally making itself known as you fled. Despite it all, curiosity seemed to have gotten the best of Rhysand, because he was following you, despite your grip no longer being on him. He could have stopped you, even with all that dark power suppressed he would possess enough to freeze every cell in your body to his command with nothing but a wink, and yet, he didn’t.

His long legs carried him at more of a fast walk to your hurried run behind you, and you jerked with shock when you felt the sharp scratch of an icy talon, then two, then three, scratched down your thick mental barriers. You could feel a ripple of twisted fascination burst from him at encountering any walls at all, at someone who knew how to track and resist a daemati.

The tall doors at the end of your final corridor beckoned you forward, with intricate designs etched into the front, and thick wood that would hide you both on the other side. You’d already picked the locks, your feet finally slowing down as relief enough to make you almost collapse as you came to a halt before them. Twisting the knob with a prayer that nobody had somehow discovered your plan, locked them again to keep you out, a shaky laugh left you as the door creaked open with just a little pressure.

Nothing but inky darkness spilt out from inside, and you stepped into it, welcoming its cold embrace and its camouflage, its protection. He followed you in, stepping through with one graceful stride, and your back collapsed onto it to push it closed, a heavy sigh leaving you as your heart rate began to even back out at last. Now, you could barely make out the silhouette of him before you, but you could feel his presence all around, like a weighted blanket closing in.

His stare was even heavier, you didn’t need to see those violet eyes to feel the depth of them on you.

You smiled anyway, wondering if he could see you through the dark, another gift those lucky High Fae perhaps had that your lowly kind did not. Your steps were rehearsed, pacing across the room, acutely aware of where he was as he followed, just from the buzz of his leaking power on the air, all the way to the window at the far side of the room. Scraping back heavy curtains on either side of clear glass doors, you’d already picked those locks too in preparation.

Swinging the doors open and stepping out into milky moonlight on the terrace, you took your first real breath of fresh air in weeks, sighing happily at the cold breeze of the early-Spring night.

The curse trapping you both here shimmered before you, barely an inch from the edge of the stone, and you reached out, never touching it, never risking letting it tell of your true location, but hovering your hand before it, feeling the cruel zap in warning of Amarantha’s boundaries. Never to escape, never to leave, trapped here Under The Mountain.

Your peace was shattered by the rough, animal growl of the man behind you, patience audibly fraying.

“Alright, Little Mouse, I’ve played your game. But, you know how it ends when the cat catches the prey, so what do you want?”

Finally, you turned to face him, hands clenching once again behind your back, hoping this time it would hide the tremor as your intentions were finally to be revealed. “I want nothing.”

“Everyone wants something from me. So, what is it?” He stepped a fraction closer, a snarl curling on his lips, ugly power taking over a handsome face.

“Alright, fine.” You mused, stepping a footstep closer to him as well. “What I wanted… was for you to see the sky.”

He visibly faltered, for all the roles he played and the masks he wore, this one slipped for just a second, his eyes widening as though it was a riddle, brows furrowing even deeper, and scowl twisting to a frown of confusion. “Why?”

“Because it is Starfall tonight.”

This time, his mask didn’t just falter, it crumbled entirely, the façade coming crashing down around his feet as his jaw dropped. His throat bobbed as he swallowed thickly, gaze flicking over you in an entirely new light now, eyes narrowing to assess you but no malice behind those pretty iris’ now. “You know of Starfall?”

“Of course. It is my favourite holiday.”

An unsteady breath rushed from him, like he’d taken a hit to the lungs, eyes widening as he stared. His shoulders slumped, rigid posture melting away until he looked positively world-weary, arms hanging by his sides. It was then that he wiped a hand over his face, realising a tired laugh, and you wrapped your arms loosely around yourself.

He didn’t recognise you, of course he didn’t you’d been counting on it for this plan to work. You just didn’t realise how cold and lonely actually having that fact acknowledged would make you feel. Rolling up one tatty sleeve of your dress to reveal swirls of blank ink beginning to climb up your forearm from your wrist, his eyes somehow seemed to widen further.

He took your wrist in his hand, your fingers tightening to a fist as a shocked gasp sounded, his touch like fire and warmth and comfort all in one as he gripped you firmly, but cautiously. Turning your arm over in his hold, he pushed your sleeve all the way up to your bicep, tracing the patterns with one fingertip, touch so light it made you shiver. Your bargain marks, messy and rough and ugly, just like the deals you’d had to strike which resulted in them.

“These… these are bargain marks. These are Night Court marks.” He traced again, thumb swiping over the pulse point on your wrist, feeling the race of it under the pad, before lowering the fabric back down to cover them again, and releasing your arm. “The marks of my court.”

His voice cracked, something within you shattering at the sound of it, and you choked down a well of thick emotion as you thought of home, for the first time in a very long while. One a whisper as broken as his voice had been, you uttered; “Yes.”

Too much weight in his stare, too many memories of a place you missed like a lost lover, too many bargains made here just to survive.

It was all so horrible.

“I didn’t know. I had no idea anyone from my court was here.”

There were questions loaded in that sentence. How did you get here? Why are you trapped? Who brought you? What was your reason? You wanted to answer them all, but at first, a single shrug was all that came to mind. It was so overwhelming, not only to be standing here, finally talking to the one person who could understand your longing for home, but to be standing here with your High Lord, someone you’d spent centuries admiring, decades pitying, and months plotting for.

This time, it was he who attempted a smile in comfort. It helped.

“I was travelling at the time. Seeing all of Prythian, and finding work wherever I could to find my adventure.” A horrible feeling you’d spent so long crying over worming its way back in.

You’d spent so long dreaming of getting away from the Night Court, to explore and see the rest of the continent, of the world, and now it was all you wanted to go back. To stay forever, curled up on the windowsill of a cosy apartment that overlooked the glowing lights of Velaris, close enough to hear the music from the Rainbow and hear the happy voices, watch the snow fall or bluebells sprout. You wanted it so badly it ached.

“At the time of…” You waved a hand, throat stinging as you wrestled with emotion, unable to even say the words of this foul curse aloud, even after centuries, “I was working for the Vanserra’s. No one important, as it had always been for me, but they always bring their own staff to the parties. In case you hadn't noticed, Beron is quite high-maintenance, and Eris is terribly paranoid and suspicious.”

A laugh burst from him, rough and grating and unsteady, like he hadn't used it in so long, but it blossomed something in your chest that you thought had died long ago.

“I was one of the lowly serving staff they brought with them that fateful night, to keep Lady Autumn’s glass filled with wine, so she’d never have to lift a single finger. Unfortunately, that meant that when they were trapped, I was too. All that wish for adventure. I got a little more excitement than I bargained for, I suppose.”

Silence settled, the story hanging between you like mist on the morning air, your head turning and gaze shifting to the twinkling stars overhead. Several minutes seemed to pass as he processed it all, and decided what to say next, a hand skimming your shoulder lightly, as though hesitant to dare touch you at all. “Why did you never come to me, before tonight?”

The laugh that tumbled from your lips was self-pitying and sad. Running your hands over the tatty skirt you wore, it felt obvious.

He was, arguably, beside Amarantha, the most important person here. You were nobody. He wore a new suit embellished with gold and silver, you wore a dirty dress that had more patches and sewing than the original fabric. He smelled of fresh soap and aftershave, you smelled of bleach from scrubbing the floors and cinders from the fireplaces. He slept in silk sheets on a big bed, all to himself, you’d been sharing a dormitory for ten years with scratchy bedding and broken mattresses.

And yet, you wouldn't trade with him for all the riches in the world. Your anonymity was all that protected you.

You were nobody. You meant nothing. But tonight, just tonight, you had the chance to be something.

“To what end? We’re both trapped, you have your role to play, and I have mine.”

His smile was as weak and empty as your laugh was. “It’s been ten years. I could have… I could have don’t something to help, made life easier for you, so that you weren’t so alone.”

There was a pain in his voice, a kind of ongoing struggle you’d come to terms with years ago, but it was like a fresh slice across sensitive skin for him. You reached out, hand hovering lightly over his arm, unsure whether or not it was your place. Then again, it was a barrier you’d already crossed in an adrenaline-fuelled panic. Settling your hand lightly onto his forearm, you squeezed gently, hoping it was as reassuring for him as you intended.

“I don’t know how-”

“It’s okay, truly.” Your throat bobbed, the informality of this whole situation was surreal, only the chill in the air, wind whistling through rips in threadbare fabric keeping you grounded. “I was never alone, it’s hard ever to be alone around here. It was just lonely.”

He hummed, a non-committal response, and his mind seemed elsewhere. A heavy sigh, and then his head tipped back, eyes moving to watch the motionless stars twinkle in the sky. It wasn’t until the third shaky breath and slight sniff, hands clenching by his side, that you realised he was choking back powerful emotions. For you.

“Please, don’t worry for me, my Lord.” Your hand swept comfortingly, twice, up and down his arms, that fist of that hand smoothed out when your fingers brushed his the pulse on his wrist. Words, hanging on the tip of your tongue, dangerous and risky and presumptive, but it felt like the two of you had far surpassed those kinds of barriers by now. “It looks far lonelier and far more hurtful at the Queen’s side than where I am.”

His head snapped back down, all that anguish temporarily banished from swirling violet eyes as he studied you once again. It was like a thousand thoughts flashing through his mind too fast for you to read in his eyes. Your lungs were frozen, burning for air but unable to take any oxygen in, eyes wide and body locked as you waited. He was putting something together, he knew, his lips pressing into a thin line and you didn’t know whether this would flip it all over wrongly.

His head cocked to the side, licking over one lip, before the edges of his lips were flickering at the edges, just slightly.

“It was you.”

“What was me?” You’d always been a bad liar, gaze flicking away from his and it was your turn now to let the stars distract you. A talon, scraping at your mental shields again, a warning that he could if he wanted to, break through and you’d never even know. Instead, a single finger hooked under your chin, turning your face back to him.

“It was you. You, who suddenly unearthed this mysterious prophecy about the human girl breaking the curse. You, who has Amarantha on such a wild goose chase that she has no time for… me. At least, not for a while.” He looked awed now, a reassured expression, and his hand slipped from your chin up, to cup your face. Your throat was tight, painfully so, the simple bit of affection making your eyes water and the truth poured from you in a nod. “You were so scared in the halls, pacing and fretting before I even got there. Your fear was heavy in the air. When you heard the voices and the footfalls, you fled. It was you.”

“It was me.” His breath raced from him, lips parted, and you raised your own hand. Holding his to your face, you stole a few selfish seconds, head tipping further into his palm as his thumb swept over your cheekbone; a few sacred moments of comfort. “Buying you a few hours to yourself on this night was the least I could do, my Lord. You may not have known I was here, but some of your actions, the small mercies you disguise as cruelties, have done more for me than you could ever know.”

“Call me Rhysand. Please.” He was fighting tears, much the same as you were, and his other hand joined the first, holding your face up to his own as he stepped a little closer. The warmth from his body was like a magnet you, swayed toward him, the moonlight glowing on his skin like it was made to decorate him and him alone. “At least… at least, when we’re alone. I don’t want to be anything but myself with you. You see me. You’re the only person down here who does..”

You didn’t have to force a smile anymore. It was the first one that felt honestly genuine in years. His thumbs swept a couple more times, before his arms were shaking with restraint, and he pulled them away. Silence settled around you both. With one more glance at the stars, your arms wrapped around yourself, and you turned back to him. “Enjoy the stars, Rhysand.”

There would be nothing to see, no falling stars and souls finding their way. But, just knowing that it was happening out there, watching these ones stay still and twinkle gently, it was enough to feel connected to home, just for a little while. Stepping away from him, the loneliness creeping back up already felt suffocating, like ice water ready to drag you into the darkness and the depths.

His hand shot out, fingers wrapping around your own, firm but gentle, insistent but pleading. “Please- please, don’t go. Stay with me. Spend Starfall with me?”

It was an offer like you could only dream of, to spend Starfall with someone else once again, someone who knew. You had no idea how to say yes, mouth hanging open, but he seemed to get the gist, lips curling into a real smile now. Not the cruel grin he wore every day, not the cocky smirk. This was real, this was beauty and emotions and trust.

“Yes?”

“Yes. I would like that.” This opportunity could never happen again, and so you weren’t going to let it just fly past like a misguided star. He tugged you back a little closer, letting your hand go when you fell into place by his side, and his body dropped any remaining tension. He rested his hands on the railing, cautious not to touch that barrier of the curse, and tapping the space beside him for you to join.

You did, the two of you staring out quietly at the vast lands, the bright skies, the empty space; nobody ever dared near the centre of the horrid curse killing the lands.

“I miss the grass.”

“I have a friend… a brother, who has terrible allergies. Even a speck of pollen, and he’s sneezing and eyes running.” A wistful look took over his features, amusement and nostalgia crackling under the surface. “It’s quite the sight to see a warlord sneeze and curse at a flower.”

Your mind followed, reeling a little as the puzzle pieces clicked into place. “General Cassian… has hay fever?”

“Don’t tell him I told you, he’d string me up by my boxers from the pillars of the moonstone palace.” The sounds of your laughter bounced off of the stony sides of the mountain, echoes disappearing into the tonight, mixed with his deep chuckles. A kind of harmony formed, peace, a small bubble of a happy memory like a light amongst so much darkness. You’d look back on this moment for years, possibly decades to come, relishing in the way it felt to smile again, to have companionship and real happiness, even if it didn’t last long. “I miss the smell of the Sidra just after it rains.”

“I miss watching the snow fall at Solstice.”

“I miss the way it would feel after the snow melted, that first truly warm day.”

It somehow became a game, swapping back and forth, each thing you missed. Some were funny, others nostalgic, some were his royal experiences that made his cheeks heat and sweet chuckles leave his lips when you teased him, others had the same experience on you.

The conversation shifted, he asked you all about your travels, told you of his favourite places he’d seen in different courts, and asked you if you’d ever been there. He told you stories about all of his adventures, as you did for him, watching the moon slowly inching its way across the dark sky as you confided in one another, all your deepest pain and joy and excitement. He told you about his friends, the shadow singer, the general, the terrifying creature from another world. He was so passionate, he loved so deeply, that by the time he’d finished, you felt as though you knew them too, like you loved them too.

Then, when your cheeks ached and your stomach was sore from all the laughing, when every happy memory had been shared, reality set back in once again.

“I miss home.”

“Me too.” With your simple response, his gaze fixed once again above your heads, so far away and yet you longed to be there.

“It's- it’s just so godsdamned nice, that just one person knows I’m not a villain.” His words startled you, a fresh batch of pain, something deep and primal exposed like an open wound right to the heart. When you turned to face him, he was staring at the stars, but soft trails of moonlight trickled in fat tears down his cheeks. “Sometimes, so many days pass by where I can’t even look at myself in the mirror, where I can’t even bear the sound of my own name, knowing the way it’ll go down in history. This, this night, your company and your kindness, it makes it feel worth it. That just one person will not hate me, for the rest of my life, makes it feel like it's enough.”

When he finally faced you, wet cheeks and red eyes and exposed vulnerability, you gave him the same comfort he’d given you. With hands on his cheeks to wipe away those tears, you gave your best smile, letting his head hang heavily in your palms for a while. “You’ll never be the villain in my story, Rhysand.”

His lip wobbled, and he twisted his head, lips brushing your palm as he pressed a series of fragile, trembling kisses there. “Thank you, thank you, thank you.”

Your shiver wasn’t from the cold, but from his blatant affection. At the act, however, his pained look became dismayed, glancing over your thin attire with disappointment. He stood, reluctantly peeling your hands from his face long enough to slide down the large blazer he wore, and slipping it over your shoulders. When he pulled the lapels tightly around your body, the plush lining, still filled with his body heat, was like wrapping up in front of the fireplace, on the very rare occasions you could steal a minute to do so.

With a roll of his shoulders, those magnificent wings you’d only ever seen from afar were visible, appearing before your very eyes as though from thin air, as though they’d always been there, only veiled, and you stared unabashedly in amazement.

Stepping closer, until you were so close your breath bounced off of his chest and you could pick out the threads in his shirt, he wrapped them around you, sealing out cold wind and the rest of the world.

“Better?”

“Better.” You whispered, and his resulting look of pride warmed you as much from the inside as he did from the outside. After only a brief moment of consideration, you freed one arm, looping it slowly around his waist. When he only tugged you closer, your other arm joined it. Settling your cheek against his shoulder, he moulded his body to your arm, thick arms wrapping around your body in return, sealing you to him in a hug neither of you intended to let go from any time soon.

His lips traced the top of your head as he turned, a few kisses dotted affectionately along your hairline, drawing happy sighs from you each time. When his head dipped a little further, lips near your temple, it was to quietly murmur, “Would you like to see the stars falling?”

You pulled back, barely a fraction as he refused to let you go at all, but enough to stare up at him. “How?”

“I still have a little of my powers, such as hiding these magnificent wings.” His smirk was positively feline, the nosey Lord having pulled that tidbit from your mind, and warmth raced to your cheeks. “I can show you some of my memories from previous years, if you trust me?”

Another tap of claws on your walls, a soft stroke like a finger over your skin, and you lowered your shields slowly to allow him inside. As soon as you did, you could feel him everywhere. Swarming in your thoughts, filling your head like you were both in there, and giving as much of his feelings away as it did yours. You could feel the relief at knowing someone else’s touch, that lingering guilt for not having known you but the borderline bliss at being here right now. The elation, at being trusted. The joy of having someone to share home with.

Your eyes fluttered closed on his command, as he began to play the memories over.

Glimpses of parties, of stars and fireworks and sequins and fancy dresses. Twirling and dancing, intoxicated fun, and when you saw Azriel or Cassian or Mor, you felt his love for them like you’d feel your own. It was like seeing it through your own eyes. In this memory, he was making his way through the palace, the House of Wind atop the mountain.

You’d seen drawings and pictures, of course, glimpsed it from afar on clear days, but nothing had ever compared to these real images of seeing the palace home. It was breathtakingly beautiful. Tall pillars and columns made of marble and moonstone, carved and designed with intricate swirls and stories. Open balconies, large rooms, enough space that it would take you days to learn your way around, and that was just the small glimpses of it you could see now.

Eventually, he made it to the balcony, one hand braced on the stone as he stared out across Velaris down below, so far and tiny and beautiful, a vibrant ache in your heart as you longed to be back there, one that matched in his own through the connection you’d forged.

You watched on, as his attention turned to the sky, to the falling stars, glittery and soaring and so close. So colourful up close, you’d never seen such a sight, like being immersed within the colour, becoming a part of nature temporarily, leaving you breathless and high on the feeling.

You watched and watched, as he once had, what felt like hours slipping by until it came to an end, and your cheeks felt wet when you finally felt him pull back from your mind. Not entirely, no, a piece of him was still lingering there behind your consciousness, a comforting weight, but your senses were all back, like your spirit had sunk back into your body.

“Thank you for showing me that.”

“Incredible, isn’t it?”

“That stars,” you breathed, “I’ve never seen it so clearly. They were so close, like you could just reach out and touch them.”

He wiped away your tears with one arm, the other still sealed tightly around you, soon to be rejoined. “You can, and when we get out of here someday, I’ll show it to you. I’ll show you so much, give you so much.”

There was nothing else to say, no more words that could fathom this feeling. But, you didn’t need them. You knew that he knew, his presence in your mind was sure to trace it. So, instead, you just snuggled in closer, cheek on his shoulder once again, and eyes sliding closed as you let yourself sink fully into his embrace.

He needed this as much as you did, a two-way street now opened between your minds, and a selfish part of you hoped he never took it away, that even when you were alone, you’d never be lonely again. That fraction of darkness in your mind flickered, as if making a promise.

“Why? Why did you do this for me?” He eventually asked, the question that had been hovering all night. “When I have done nothing for you?”

“Because, Rhysand, I have seen you from afar. You’ve seemed so empty, lately. I wanted to give you something to remind you to hold on.”

He’s breathless, you could feel it under your own thudding heart as his pulse raced and he panted softly into your hairline, trying to settle. “Someday, I’ll take you home. Back to Velaris, where we belong. I’ll make up for everything you’ve had to go through. You’ll never want for anything, you’ll never be alone again. But, while we’re still here, I’ll make up for these ten years I’ve missed already. What can I do, what do you want first?”

“Those are beautiful promises, Rhysand, and I appreciate them, but I don’t need them. All I want, all I need, is a friend. To not be so alone.”

“Never again, darling. Never again, will I let you be alone. It’s me and you, now.” He squeezed you in, another kiss to the top of your head, and you pressed into it, leaving a single kiss to his jaw in return. “Happy Starfall, darling.”

“Happy Starfall, Rhysand.”

#rhysand x reader #rhysand/reader #rhysand x you #rhysand/you #acotar x reader #acotar x you #acotar/reader #acotar/you #rhysand #acotar #a court of thorns and roses

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yelenaslyubov · 6 months ago

Text

!NEW SERIES ANNOUNCEMENT!

“A NEW FRONTIER”

PART 1 // PART 2 // PART 3

pairing: yelena belova x reader

PLOT SUMMARY: When a top secret mission is brought upon a group of the Avengers, you must join them in the barren desert of Utah. The Avengers must go undercover and play the part of gentle cattle ranchers while taking part to silently fight an uprising. You are the newest recruit, which means this becomes your first mission. You do well to remember your place, as well as do your part, but this part becomes harder when a certain someone catches your eye. Your new mission becomes fighting a balance between your own feelings and the threat that looms over the Avengers. Will you be able to defeat the new threat to the universe as well as embrace your newfound feelings, or will you lose them both in the end?

<< character moodboards >>

you

yelena belova

kate bishop

kamala khan

natasha romanoff

wanda maximoff

peter parker

steve rogers

sam wilson

bucky barnes

clint barton

tony stark

howdy everyone!!

i am excited to announce my first official series! i know i’ve teased a series before and i didn’t follow through with it, but i’m very excited for this. it’s definitely different than anything i’ve done before so i hope that people are pumped for it and enjoy it. this isn’t just my own idea but it is inspired by a story that me and a close friend came up with a couple years ago. this does not follow the exact events, but it is definitely inspired by it (you know who you are bestie). i’m not sure how many parts this story will have, but i am hoping at least 4! i’m hoping that once i get in the swing of writing for an actual series it will inspire me to go back to the previous series i wanted to start. as you can probably see, i really enjoy writing AU stories that take a completely different turn than canon events, whether that is plot or character driven. with that being said, i hope you enjoy this new story and i would love to hear how you feel about it!! until next time🤠🏜🐴

series inspired playlist:

big iron by marty robbins

are you gonna be my girl by jet

southern nights by glen campbell

ain’t no rest for the wicked by cage the elephant

run free by hans zimmer

supermassive black hole by muse

ghost riders in the sky by riders in the sky

red dead redemption by woody jackson

i kissed a girl by katy perry

a horse with no name by america

she calls me back by noah kahan

lonesome town by ricky nelson

barracuda by heart

get off my back by bryan adams

i was made for lovin’ you by KISS

take me home, country roads by lana del rey

saddle tramp by marty robbins

kickstart my heart by mötley crüe

in dreams by sierra ferrell

can’t stop by the red hot chili peppers

the good, the bad and the ugly by ennio morricone

beer for my horses by toby keith

american pie by don mclean

we belong together by ritchie valens

good luck, babe! by chappell roan

you send me by sam cooke

our song by taylor swift

home by edward sharpe & the magnetic zeros

see ya soon partners ;)

if you would like to be added to this taglist, comment down below!

taglist: @youreatotalposer // @xxromanoffxx // @avengerswriter4eva // @xxxtwilightaxelxxx // @la-reine-des-enfers // @chickenlittlsblog // @belovasecho // @youresuchamom // @kacka84 // @alotofpockets // @yamum-com // @maia-lightwoood // @lifeontop // @marvelwomen-simp // @sarah5462 // @jackharlowsshawty // @batmanzbae-blog // @yelenabelovasbxtch // @marvelfan98 // @an-evergreen-rose // @popeheywardssecretgf // @lovelyy-moonlight // @justthis-stuff // @sat-yrr // @mythosphere-x // @daenerys713 // @bentleywolf29 // @natasha25052 // @ortega29 // @sherlockstrangewolf

#nervous about this one #i really hope y’all like this😭🙏#a new frontier #series #my writing #yelena belova #yelena belova au #yelena belova x reader #kate bishop #steve rogers #tony stark #natasha romanoff #wanda maximoff #clint barton #kamala khan #sam wilson #bucky barnes #peter parker

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call-sign-shark · 2 years ago

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Heaven In Your Eyes || Arthur Shelby x Reader!OC

Summary: Beaten with guilt and shame after losing his temper again, Arthur's aimless wandering leads him to church. There she is and, after diving into her heavenly eyes, he is convinced God has sent him His sweetest angel to save his bastard soul.

Words: 2.6k

TW: Blood, a bit of angst, slight blasphemy and bad use of holy water, reckless x caretaker Inspired by the prompt "Where does it hurt? - Everywhere" by @the-three-whumpeteers

Notes:

✞ Timeline: between seasons 2 and 3

✞ Heaven is OP's original character but written with the use of « you » (Moodboard here). Heaven’s voice and song is linked, all you have to do is click on the lyrics.

NEXT CHAPTER || Masterlist

The stumbling tall silhouette of Arthur Shelby was crossing through the thick haunting mist of Birmingham. As unwelcoming the town was during the day, it was nothing compared to night time. When sun faded behind the horizon, chased by the pale glowing face of the moon, the whole city turned into a cut-throat area. Arthur brought the neck of the bottle he was holding to his chapped lips and gulped down a mouthful of pure Irish whisky. The fire trail the beverage left behind it as it went down his throat reminded him he was alive — he could still feel something, even though it was the alcohol’s burning. An animal growl escaped from his lips when the bottle left them only for him to lean his back against one of the church’s gigantic concrete walls. A loud raven’s croak torn the silent veil of the night, making him swears. The gravel in his voice answered to the dull bird, which was watching him from a tree with his tiny and beady eyes.

« Fooking bird, laughing at me like the rest of ‘em eh? »

The raven — which was rather large for a bird — tilted its head to the side and kept staring at the drunk man with a cunning interest. Its black eyes, shining under the moonlight, seemed filled with both a wise glare and a mocking sparkle. Soon, Arthur’s curiosity for the raven’s unusual behavior turned into a senseless anger when he understood why the bird was focusing on him, his explosive rage strengthened by the incredible amount of alcohol he had drunk a bit earlier.

« It’s the damn blood is it? Stop lookin’ at me like I’m — I’m some kind of monster, or a beast or I don’t fookin’ know what else! Go to Hell! »

The bottle flew towards the raven but it did not flicker, as if it knew Arthur was not in the shape of being quick nor particularly precise with aiming. As the glass smashed into the ground, Arthur hit the wall behind him with the back of his head and let out a frustrated scream. No more cocaine, no more auto destructive behavior nor suicide attempts for two years straight, and tonight he fucked it all up. He was convinced he could get better, and God knows he tried his best to do so. Got sober from every poison he used to take, got a religious wife that was trying to turn the wolf in him into a sheep… Hell, he even brought her flowers every damn day. But then came troubles, taking the shape of his little brother, Thomas Shelby.

He asked him to do the dirty job — again.

With his calloused hands, he took another man’s life. At first Arthur thought he would not be that disturbed at the idea of killing someone, after all he had done that almost his entire life. Just one last time, he told himself, just one last time and I’ll go back to my little peaceful life with me wife.

Yet, the guilt and the shame that struck him after bashing the lad’s head against the edge of a sink until his face became a pile of squishy flesh soon became too much to handle.

As the last spurt of blood spattered his face, Arthur’s clouded mind became suddenly crystal clear: it would never stop. After that epiphany, the older Shelby brother contemplated how everyone he deeply loved tended to use him. For Thomas and the rest of the family he was a mad dog, the combat brute whose only times he could enjoy life without a muzzle were when he had to rip someone’s throat apart. For his father, he had been nothing else than a poor naive hound that would have done anything to receive his respect. As for Linda, her love was a cruel mirage he wanted to believe with all his heart — but the illusion had vanished in smoke. Whether she considered him as her personal test subject for Christian brainwashing or as a tool to get what she wants, Arthur could not tell. What he could tell though was that he knew she did not really loved him. She wanted to mould him at her will, but he was no lamb. He was a wolf, a beaten and lonely wolf, but still one. And there was no love for rabid wolves, only a bullet through the brain to cure the madness.

As his skull buzzed with macabre thoughts, whose unpleasant noise reminded him of a furious beehive, a bewitching voice pulled him out of his auto-destructive spiraling. Standing at attention and listening carefully, he came to realize that someone was singing inside the church. Arthur’s eyelids fell on his steel blue eyes and the back of his head gently rested against the cold wall behind him, the same wall he had been previously smashing it with. A sighed escaped from his liquored lips as the angelic and hypnotizing voice, slightly muffled by the church’s heavy wooden doors, plunged him into a soft but oh-so-warm haze.

My heart is pierced by Cupid

I disdain all glittering gold…

Lulled by the sad melody carried away with Birmingham’s cold night breeze, the swarm of raging hornets in Arthur’s brain stopped crashing against the bony walls of his skull. Another sigh — one of relief this time, for the unbearable noisy thoughts and violent buzzing had vanished. His trembling fingers, numbed by the blows he had hit his target with one hour ago and still covered with half-dried blood, slid along his temples and slicked his hair back. The utter and feral anger he had felt was reduced to void, for even his old heart had slowed its pace down in his ribcage.

There is nothing can console me

But my jolly sailor bold…

The tune, embedded with melancholy, soothed his troubled mind and to be honest, he could barely believe it. When that switch in his brain flipped, God knew he was not in control anymore - even dear Linda, who still managed to hush down some of his tantrums, could not tame the beast inside when it broke free a bit more fiercely than usual. Yet, this voice did so. This stranger, faceless and nameless ghost of the night, brought him back to sanity with the sole power of her voice. The words she was singing, with her a juvenile and enchanting tone, were wrapping his heart. Arthur sniffed and fought hard against the dawning tears that were forming delicate crystal beads at the corner of his closed eyes.

If he had been the jolly sailor bold, he would have thrown himself out of the boat to join the siren that was singing.

My heart is pierced by Cupid

I disdain all glittering gold.

There is nothing can console me

But my jolly sailor bold…

She repeated, sadder than she previously sang.

Her song sipped through his heart and filled the cracks with molten gold. Arthur’s lips stretched in an almost invisible grin without even realizing it — By her voice, he was convinced she could repair the damaged creatures like him and make them even more beautiful than they were before they had been dragged through the trenches’ mud and shit. He had barely came to his senses, almost miraculously sobered up, when silent fell again in the church. Arthur reopened his eyes, and shook his head - Had he dreamt? Had it been the whiskey singing to him? No, he could not be that crazy right? Not quite sure if he was starting to hear voices and see things, Shelby decided that he had to found out who had been singing to his very own soul. He wanted to see her, the girl who soothed his foul heart and his twisted mind. He wanted to know, no, he HAD to know, even though his whole being was fragile like a flickering candle flame caught in a hurricane and would probably shatter in million of pieces if she turned out to be an illusion.

Gathering all his remaining strength, Arthur grabbed the handle and opened the church’s door.

[…]

A shiver ran down your delicate spine at the loud silence that floated in the gigantic and empty church. The peculiar sweet yet strong scent of myrrh, wood and frankincense filled your lungs with its holy fragrance. The vibrations of the last word you sang was still echoing in the room, swirling to the high and sculpted ceiling, from which marble angels were watching over you. If someone would have told you two years ago that the only place you would find comfort would be a church, you would not have believe it. You had never been particularly fervent about religion, but you did believe in higher forces whether they were good or bad. More than a matter of faith, the church itself was an old friend of yours. A gargantuan friend of stone, holy titan always welcoming you even in the darkest moments of your life. What you liked the most were these lonely moments at night, during which you could light up dozen of candles and sing your sorrow to the status and colorful stained-glass windows. No gossip from the parish, no believers swarming like ants within these mighty walls. There were just you, the candle lights and the soothing silence. For a few hours, you could finally find peace.

Brushing the varnished wood of the altar with your thin fingers and painted-red nails, you let your mind drift and, suddenly, the world around you vanished. You sunk so deep in the abyss of your thoughts that you did not hear the creaking sound of the heavy door opening, nor the footsteps that followed. All you could heard were the « Burn witch, burn! » that hundred of villagers screamed at you in the woeful remembrance of your past. And in spite of your immaculate porcelain skin, you bore the scars of their words deep in your soul.

[…]

Arthur made a few steps before freezing, his body refusing to come closer as if the aura around the creature that was standing back to him , right in front of the altar lightened up with dozen and dozen of small dancing flames, was too sanctified to be violated. Bathed in the soft and warm orange hue of candles, the long white hair of the woman fell down the small of her back like an ivory waterfall. Right above her the pale glow of the full moon coming through the stained-glass window formed a luminous halo around her head.

His breathing stopped, choking in his throat at such a divine vision. The gangster opened his mouth to speak but no words managed to come out. He had never been good with words anyway. Instead he moistened his lips and swallowed, his mouth dry. The white-haired girl had started to hum the same song she had been singing a bit earlier, not aware of his presence — and he did not dare to disturbing her as if he feared God’s punishment. He took another step, the wooden floor creaking under his sole.

This time the angel — because he was convinced it was one — jumped and turned around, an expression of utter surprise veiling her sweet face. Her fox eyes, adorned with two iris so fair it reminded him of aquamarine stones, scrutinized his slightest movements. She remained petrified for what felt eternity for her but, regarding him, time had stopped for good. Arthur finally inhaled sharply, coming back to life.

All those endless nights of crying, all those endless nights of praying in vain for something or someone to save him, and here you were… His salvation.

He had asked God to send him, the most desperate sinner of all, His most beautiful Angel and He had done so.

She was not just pretty. She was otherworldly and vaguely threatening. Almost ethereal in her short white dress whose cut let her naked back for the world to see.

« I waited for ya. » He whispered.

She blinked, her full and juicy lips opening with surprise.

He stuttered, looking down and decided it was better for you if he stopped talking. The gravel in his hoarse voice, as strong as it was, sounded indescribably frail. As if this tall and slightly threatening man could shatter at your single touch. Now he felt stupid, clumsy with words contrary to Tommy and his naturally eloquent and charismatic speech. In addition to the unpleasant impression of being a fool, Arthur’s own whisky-scented breath and the strong metallic smell of blood reminded him of his horrific appearance. Overcoming the awe you infused in him, panic started to kick.

You frowned, and all of sudden he did not look that impressive anymore. Swept away by the wind, your face relaxed and wrapped itself with a calm, almost placid expression. You exhaled through your nose and walked towards the gangster, who had brought his bloody hands to each side of his head and was now pulling his own hair in a desperate attempt to not lose track.

« Where does it hurt? » You asked with a quiet and soothing tone, for you were concerned about all the blood he was covered with.

Arthur raised his gaze toward the petite white-haired doll who had just pressed one of her cold little hands on his. Your ice against his fire made his legs weak and his heart missed a beat. How his breathing calmed down at your touch was a mystery, but it did. Not quite comprehending why you did not seem scared of him, he stuttered again, all flustered.

« Shhh, shhhh. Everything’s okay, take a deep breath and answer with all the time you need. » Your hand gently tightened its grip, willing to show him you were there and you were not going anywhere until he feels better.

« Where does it hurt? »

« Ev-Everywhere love. It hurts everywhere. »

His hands, his face, his body, his brain, his soul, his damn tortured soul… It all ached too much, and too constantly for him to bear anymore. E-ve-ry-where, that was all he could say because pain was all he could feel.

Without answering, you pulled him to the altar and invited him to sit on the marble stairs. The strong and fierce gangster followed you without the single physical resistance and gave in between your hands, as a rag doll. All he did was looking at you with his charming but oh-so-exhausted blue eyes as you tore the fabric of your dress near your thighs and soaked it in holy water.

« Let me wash away the blood. » Your voice echoed in the vastness of the church, enticing and haunting at the same time — enough to send a pleasant shiver down his spine. You had barely finished your sentence when you started rubbing the wet cloth against his hollow cheek to clean his pale skin from the dark red blood. Once again, he could not help watching you during the whole ordeal all the while enjoying the fresh sensation of the holy water cleansing the dirt of his soul. Not minding his stare filled with fascination, you focused on your task, brows slightly furrowed and fingers blessing him with the softest and most caring touch someone had given him.

« Yer an Angel. I swear you are eh. »

You quickly glanced at him, a sparkle of amusement shining in your cunning celeste blue eyes, before looking back at what you were doing. The weight of his gaze brought fire to your cheeks, for he looked at you like he had just realized what love was.

He looked at you, and to his greatest surprise, found Heaven in your eyes.

I'm super new in the Peaky Blinders fandom, so please bear with me... Especially since English is not my native language. To be honest I am kind of scared to post it so any comment, review, reblog or constructive criticism is welcome. Also, I'll be more than happy to meet people in the Peaky Blinders fandom! In the meantime, I hope you enjoyed some Arthur and Heaven. Still don’t know if I’ll write a full series or snipets of these two love birds.

Tags: @areyenotfondofmelobster

#Arthur shelby #Arthur shelby x reader #Peaky blinders #Peaky blinders x reader #Arthur shelby x oc #arthur shelby x ofc #peaky blinders imagine #peaky blinders fluff #Arthur shelby imagine #Thomas Shelby #Tommy shelby #Arthur Shelby x Heaven #Heaven Shelby #Arthur Shelby fluff

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moonangelxo · 2 years ago

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play time with mommy!wanda x little!fem!bunny! <3

my other moodboards ! follow me here !

#honestly just made this for myself #moodboard #mommy!wanda #mommy!wanda x bunny #moonlights moodboards <3

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oceane4loveu · 1 year ago

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☾𝕄𝕆𝕆ℕ𝕃𝕀𝔾ℍ𝕋 BEAUTY ☾: 1 week to glow up

I really need a quick and simple glow up because I'm starting my job soon so I created a program to glow up in 1 week and really get to know myself and improve myself physically and mentally. You can do this program in 2 weeks or more if you want.

* ੈ✩‧₊˚day 1: lunar preparation

★shadow work: It’s time to work on yourself, answer their questions to get to know yourself better.

1. What did my childhood need most?

2. What am I avoiding?

3. What am I addicted to?

4. What secrets am I hiding and why?

5. Am I honest with myself and others?

6. What are my biggest misconceptions about myself?

7. What are my biggest fears?

8. What should I give up?

9. Am I a victim of trauma? Have I done enough to heal?

10. What do I need to forgive myself for?

11. What lessons do I still need to learn?

12. What do I want most in this life?

13. What are the first signs you notice and know that your mental health is deteriorating?

14. Do I try to hide parts of myself from others? Why ?

15. What was I like when I was a child?

16. What's the worst way someone could describe you?

★moodboard: makes a Moodboard that reflects your aspirations and your inspirations that you can look at every morning; you can put it as a wallpaper or hang it on the wall.

★ Do a major cleaning: tidy your room, delete numbers, sort through your phone, sort through your series and films, social media and my playlist, cut off toxic people.

★make a list of all your goals, choose 4 big goals in your life and separate them into smaller goals to make them easier to achieve.

★create a morning and night routine: you can copy that of someone who inspires you or simply create your own.

★do 1 hour of sport per day

* ੈ✩‧₊˚day2:inner radiance

★ start Journaling: write down your thoughts, your emotions, your thoughts for the day and also positive affirmations.

★make a list of things you like about yourself

★become softer:

1. When someone calls you, first turn to the person and smile: This helps you to be gentler and more polite towards the person you are talking to and after smiling it gives you the opportunity to speak in a kinder tone.

2. think before you speak: this is very important when learning to speak softer because it gives you time to pay attention to the tone of your voice and also be careful with the things you say.

3. Avoid yelling at others out of frustration: Yelling is the most important thing you should avoid when trying to speak softer. When you're frustrated or going through a tough time, try doing something you enjoy to calm yourself down like music, drawing, etc. instead of taking it out on others. if someone tries to make you angry, politely tell them to stop and don't let your anger control you.

* ੈ✩‧₊˚day3:educational brilliance

-listen to a podcast: I only listen to podcasts in French but if you don't like listening to podcasts you can watch videos from tam kaur, thewizardliz, simonesquared and more

-read a book: I recommend atomic habit, ikigai, the why cafe, the other books that I read are in French.

-learn a new language: on YouTube there are plenty of videos that you can find on the language of your choice.

-learn another skill: I chose to improve my computer skills but you can choose any skill it can be drawing, cooking whatever you want.

* ੈ✩‧₊˚day4:celestial radiance

-work on self-love

-work on self-esteem

* ੈ✩‧₊˚day5:lunar dream

-spa day at home

-meditation

-listen to your favorite music

-watch your favorite series or films

* ੈ✩‧₊˚day6: lunar flight

-find your ikigai: that is to say your reason for being, explore your passions, your values and your talents to really find what motivates you here is an example:

-Black Swan mindset: the Black Swan mindset is about knowing your value and not letting others tell you your value, it is a mindset of trust and knowledge of your value.

* ੈ✩‧₊˚day7:moonlight beauty

become more feminine

1-have good posture: gives you more elegance, you seem taller and more confident.

2-smell good have a characteristic scent: could remind someone of you, smell good shows that you care about your hygiene.

3-Getting Your Nails Done: Getting your nails done could make you look confident and well-groomed.

4-style your hair: hair is a key point of your appearance and a good hairstyle could automatically make you even more beautiful.

5-wear jewelry: simple jewelry can enhance your outfit a lot and bring out your features.

things to do every day

☆ Workout

☆ Learn a new skill

☆ Listen to subliminals

☆ Meditate

☆ Read a book

☆ Do Journaling

☆ Listen to Podcasts

I'm going to start tomorrow and to stay organized and always have an idea of what I have to do I created a simple Notion if you want it's right here જ⁀➴

𝕄𝕆𝕆ℕ𝕃𝕀𝔾ℍ𝕋 BEAUTY

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holdmytesseract · 11 months ago

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moodboard by @chennqingg <3 | divider by @jiyaxedits <3

Through The Years

Jotun!King!Loki Laufeyson x fem!Æsir!Queen!Reader

Summary: This story takes you and Loki on a journey through the twins life. From their first steps all the way to their first time falling in love.

Warnings for this Chapter: bit angst? sad/slightly desperate Loki, drama, yelling? fluff

Word Count: 3k

a/n: This chapter is a very important one, I'd say. After all, we are going to find out who is going to be the heir to the throne! 👀

Also, I thought I post this today, because it's Tomathy's birthday! 🥳🥰

Tags: @eleniblue @muddyorbsblr @mochie85 @asgards-princess-of-mischief @jaidenhawke @mishkatelwarriorgoddess @ijuststareatstuffhereok89 @multifandom-worlds @huntedmusicgardenn @lokiforever @captain-camille @lokisgoodgirl @smolvenger @hisredheadedgoddess28 @glitchquake @chennqingg @icytrickster17 @princess-ofthe-pages @crimson25 @buttercupcookies-blog @elegantcheesecakecrown @iamlokisgloriouspurpose @loz-3 @herdetectivetheorist @simping-for-marvel @km-ffluv @stupidthoughtsinwriting @jennyggggrrr @lady-rose-moon @salvinaa @lovingchoices14 @irishhappiness @sheris532 @princessdragon23 @xxannyxx

❄️ Chapter Three ❄️ Chapter Five ❄️

Ice Flower AU Masterlist ❄ Loki Masterlist ❄ Masterlist

Chapter Four - The Crown Prince

"What bothers you, my king?" You asked your husband in a soft, hushed voice - not to startle him. He was standing on the big balcony of your shared chambers, gazing into distance. Loki and the landscape to his feet were bathed in bright, soft blue moonlight; illuminating the dark. Summers on Jotunheim were beautiful, you learned. Some might would not expect this, but it was true. It wasn't super warm though, unlike on Asgard. Warm enough to grow crops and such, but that was it. Certainly not warm enough to run around naked - at least for you. While Loki stood there in nothing but his sleep loincloth, you were tightly wrapped up in your Asgardian dressing gown - plus some warm fur slippers. The nights were colder anyway.

"Is it what I think it is?" You questioned him further; now wrapping your hands around his strong torso; hugging him from behind. "The announcement?" You felt how Loki took a deep breath and sighed, "Yes, my queen." before he put his big hands on your smaller ones. "I... I am afraid I made the wrong decision and..." You ran your thumb in a caressing manner over the bulging muscles of his abs. "And?" He swallowed. "I never wanted to choose. I knew from the moment they were born that I had to one day, but... I never wanted to carry this burden. Why cannot decide someone else? The people? Or our advisors?" You sighed as well, knowing how bad he felt. "I know, my love, I know, but... Unfortunately, it's the king's decision. It always was; always will be." He scoffed, clearly affected by all this. "I remember that day... Clearly. Father chose Thor. Being the first born was to his advantage, but... Nevertheless, Odin would've chosen my brother. He believed he was the better king. Wiser. More mature. I accepted it - and in the end, I'm glad he didn't choose me. Because if he had, who knows if our paths ever crossed? I doubt it." The king squeezed your hands gently; loving - bathing in your embrace. "Well, I am glad, too, love. I am lucky to call you my queen now - and wife. I wouldn't want any other princess. Just you. Always you..." He muttered, pausing. "But this is different... Our boys are twins. No first born. No one of them has an advantage. By the norns, I wouldn't even want that... We always treated them equally - how it should be and now... Now I am forced to favour one of them. As a father, this is cruel."

Your heart broke at his words. You knew very well how he must feel. It wasn't fair - but that was a burden of being alive... Sometimes it was just not fair. "I know, my love, I know," you whispered and pressed a lingering kiss on the soft skin of his bare back. "I find this just as cruel as you do. Parents shouldn't have to ever put one child over the others and it's just not fair, but... Life unfortunately isn't fair..." You spoke the words on your mind, but stopped to press another reassuring kiss on his skin. "You need to remind yourself that this is a decision you make as a king. Not as a father." You could hear your husband swallowing again, before he turned in your embrace and lowered his upper body, in order to press his forehead against yours. "Should I mirror your words in front of them? Tell Áki and Váli that I'd never make this decision as a father, but have to as a king?" You nodded. "Yes. I think it would be important for them to know." Another deep sigh left your husband's lips. "I hope they'll understand... I don't know what to do if they don't."

You loosened your grip around his torso and lifted your hands to cup his cheeks; giving Loki a soft smile. "They'll understand. I know they will." The king nodded, squeezed his eyes shut and held you even closer. You let him, of course, enjoyed the tight embrace you were in.

"Let's go to bed, my king, shall we?" "Yes." You led Loki back to your marital bed then, sunk together with him in the sheets and held him close. It was just what he needed that night. The undying, unshakeable love and support of his wife.

Nevertheless, didn't have Loki a restful night. He tossed and turned from time to time; thoughts running wild inside his head. That was the reason why he was up quite early; watching the sun rise over Jotunheim.

You woke up with the sun as well; sleepy eyes searching for your husband. "Loki?" "Over here, my love." Your eyes followed his voice. He was sitting on the settee in front of the empty fireplace; gaze settled on you. "Good morning, darling." You smiled sleepy; stretching your limbs. "Good morning." You could feel his beautiful ruby eyes on you; watching you with an overwhelming amount of love and gentleness. But when your gaze met his, you could also see how troubled he was. Still. Your expression softened. "C'mere, my love." Reaching out your hand towards him, you waited for him to take it.

It only took him a few seconds to bridge the distance between the settee and bed; eagerly taking your hand into his and intertwining your fingers. You pulled him gently closer, until his legs hit the edge of the bed and he had no other choice but to lean down. With a soft, loving smile, you caught his lips with yours; kissing him lazily. Loki's eyes fluttered shut; heart beating faster. He'd never get tired of kissing you. Never.

"Have you decided yet?" Your sweet voice urged to his ears; pulling the king down on the harsh reality. Perhaps he got lost in your eyes for a few moments... With a deep sigh he nodded, "I have, yes." and told you this important decision.

"What do you think of it? Do I... Do I make the right choice, my queen?" Loki was so uncertain and troubled. You'd even go as far and say that he was afraid. So, you tried your best to comfort him. Just like you did last night. "I'd say you do, yes." You said honestly, giving his hand a reassuring squeeze. "He'll make a great further king. I am convinced by that."

Mere hours later, the king of Jotunheim was in his throne room, sitting upon his throne. His leg bounced nervously up and down; he definitely felt the burden of the upcoming event on his shoulders, weighing him down. Like hypnotized, he stared on the big doors, waiting for them to open - which they did only a few minutes later, revealing two guards and his twin sons. The guards let them in, took a bow and closed the doors again, leaving the three men alone.

"You wanted to see us, dad?" Áki was the first one to talk; being definitely the braver twin. Puberty changed the young men, of course, but not their characters. Áki was brave and talkative, while Váli was shyer and more reserved. Not that Váli didn't have braveness within him, but not as much as his brother.

Loki nodded, took a deep breath. "How to begin with?" He muttered to himself, before standing up and stepped closer to his sons. "I have to talk with you both about something important. But not here. Let's take a walk, shall we?" Said and done. Father and sons left the palace only minutes later. "Do we have to be afraid of what you need to tell us?" Váli asked, eyeing Loki with a slightly worried gaze. "No, it's... It's..." The king took another breath. "You are now 20 years old. You've grown into big, strong and wise men - without a doubt. And I couldn't be prouder of you. I really am - and so is your mother." The twin brothers exchanged a sceptical look. Not that they never heard those words from their father before, no - quite the opposite, but... Something in Loki's voice was different. Áki and Váli could tell. "You learned so much in all those years. About Jotunheim, about your heritage, about how to act as princes - and you're doing it to perfection." Loki paused. "It is time for me to make a decision. I avoided it for a long time; tried to escape it, but... I can't do it much longer. Our people, the advisors - yes, the whole kingdom expects from me to finally decide. And I have. I had to."

Váli frowned at his father, while Áki already had a guess. "What is this all about, dad?" Loki sighed. "The throne. My successor." Váli was definitely more surprised than his brother. "T-The throne? You are telling us who the crown prince is going to be?" "Exactly, my son." Áki just nodded. "We're ready for it. I am ready for it." Loki smiled at his sons. "I know you both are. I just don't know if I am ready. Well, I guess I'll never be - but that doesn't matter." The king swallowed hard. "But before I am going to tell you this, I want you both to know that it wasn't an easy decision for me. I thought long about this. Mostly even at night. I want you to know, that I made this decision as a king - not as a father. I never would. My love for you is equally strong. It always was and it always will be. I love you more than life itself, my sons." Áki smiled, just like his brother. "We love you, too." Váli agreed. "We do - and we know that you'd never favour one of us above the other as a father, but have to as a king."

Those words meant a lot to Loki; helping to ease his fear and worries a bit. He stopped and turned to place a hand on a shoulder of each twin. "This means a lot to me. I'm glad you understand. Now that that's settled..." Loki swallowed hard. "Váli, Áki... Each of you is perfectly qualified for the throne, but... I'd like you to be the future king of Asgard, Váli." The young man's eyes widened. He absolutely hadn't seen that coming. He always had expected his brother to be the future king. Áki was stronger, braver - a warrior and a true Jotun, while Váli was... Just himself. A bit dreamy, quiet and had his nose always buried in a book. Despite that, he looked like his mother - an Æsir. Not Jotun. Was that really what his father wanted? What the people wanted?

"W-What? M-Me?" Loki nodded. "Yes, you, Váli." "B-But... Why?" The king smiled softly. "Because you are smart, wise and kind. You always make the right decisions. You are well-read and know how to rule." Váli was literally speechless. His lips moved, but now words left his mouth. "And I am not?!" The angry, clearly jealous voice of Áki cut through the air. Loki quickly redirected his attention, looked his other son in the eyes. "I never said that, Áki. You are smart and wise. You have a lot of kindness in you as well, but-" "But what?!" The furious prince literally spat. "You're a bit hot-headed. You have so much passion and energy flowing through your veins. You, my son, are the greatest warrior I have ever seen. Even greater than I am - which is why I believe, that it would be better for you to defend our home. Make sure it's safe. I want you to stand at your brother's side as his first advisor and leader of our army."

Unlike his brother, Áki rather had expected to be crowned future king. He always found himself perfect for this. Worthy of becoming a king. He didn't want to be jealous of his brother. He really didn't, because he loved Váli dearly. But the heat of the moment and his slightly hot-headed nature blinded him.

Áki answered nothing to his father's almost desperate try to explanation. He just scoffed and stormed off, leaving a distraught Loki behind. This certainly didn't go as planned. That was exactly what Loki always wanted to prevent... What he was fleeing from...

It was already quite late, when Loki decided to approach his son again, in order to talk to him. The king knew, that he couldn't spend the night in peace without having talked to Áki. You told Loki to give him some space, which he understood - but he couldn't wait any longer. He had to talk to him. So, Loki went to his chambers, but found them empty. Áki wasn't there. It didn't stop the king, though. He had a guess, knew exactly where he would most likely find the prince. While Váli preferred to escape into the secret room in the library, whenever he needs to be alone, his brother fled to the training grounds. That's where Loki went next - and he was successful. Áki was there, letting out all his anger and frustration on a Jotun sized target. His sword beat down on it, over and over again; abusing the wooden surface and causing it to splinter. Loki took a deep breath, feeling his nerves again.

"Son..." Áki immediately stopped at the sound of his father's voice. Breathing heavily, with his chest rising and falling quickly, he turned around to face Loki. "What do you want?" "I want to talk with you." Áki released a breathless, derisive chuckle. "Didn't we already talk enough?" Another deep sigh left Loki's lips; desperation crawling up in him once again. "Please, Áki. I know this frustrates you, but-" "No!" The young prince cuts him off. "I don't understand your motives, father! We both know I'd be the better king!" Áki insisted; fury ruby eyes meeting his father's identical ones. "I never denied that! I know you'd be a great king!" "Then why I won't get to be king?!" Loki inhaled sharply and closed his eyes for a moment. "Because of your temper and hot-headed nature. Those aren't exceptionally bad characteristics - and you know that, but-" "But what?!" The prince spat. "Let me finish my sentence, young man, and you'll hear!" Loki had a short fuse sometimes as well. Like father, like son... Áki clapped his mouth shut at Loki's small outburst and took a submissive step back; turned into a little boy again within seconds. "A-Apologies, father." Loki gave him an intense look and crossed his arms over his chest. "I believe that you can use those... abilities of yours way better in being the leader of our army. You fit perfectly in this role. You were always destined to be a warrior. Just like I am. Just like your mother was." The king's anger deflagrated quickly again, when he saw the hurt and sorrowful look in his son's eyes. A little boy once again, indeed.

Loki sighed and stepped closer to his son; placed a hand on his bare shoulder. "Look, I... That is exactly what I always wanted to prevent. What I always was afraid of - since yours and your brother's birth. I knew I had to choose someday - and it scared me to death. Because of that. Because I had to disappoint one of you. I am sorry, son. I truly am. I... I hoped I would be able to compensate your loss of the throne with the position as the leader of our warriors and first advisor, ruling at your brother's side and supporting him like nobody else could..." Loki swallowed, "But I'm afraid, I failed." and shook his head. "But my decision stands. My offer stands." He sighed. "Again, I am truly sorry, Áki. I hope that one day you can wrap your head around this and forgive me - and perhaps accept my gift for you. You can be angry. You have every right to be angry, but please... Don't blame your brother for this. Don't let him feel your wrath." With those words Loki let go of Áki and stepped back in order to leave. "And please... Don't let me lose my son. I couldn't bear it." The king knew when he lost - and that was the case, so he turned around and walked away.

What he didn't expect, though, was Áki's voice, holding him back. "Dad, wait!" He almost yelled, before adding in a quiet voice: "Please..." Loki stopped dead in his tracks. "I... I didn't mean to react the way I did. I shouldn't have reacted that way. It was... inappropriate." Loki swallowed and turned around slowly to face Áki again. "You're right. I have a temper... And I am hot-headed as well. It took over. I got lost in the heat of the moment. I should be grateful for what you're giving me... Not angry." Loki's words hit the young prince; cleared his foggy brain. He could see straight again. "If anyone should be sorry, it's me. Please forgive me, dad." Áki lowered his head in shame and regret.

The king couldn't believe his ears. His son's opinion changed within seconds. His heart skipped undeniably a beat; hoping for an immediate reconciliation with his son.

Loki stepped closer again - and once more found his hand the young warrior's shoulder. This gesture caused him to lift his head again; looking straight in his father's eyes. All Loki could see now in those pools of red was regret and pure honesty. He smiled softly. "Apology accepted." Áki's eyes widened. "W-What? Really?" Loki nodded. "Yes. Like I said... You had every right to be angry. I often acted the same way when I was your age." "Really?" "Really." "S-So... You're forgiving me?" Another smile grazed Loki's cerulean lips. "Of course, son. You're forgiven - but... Apologise to your brother as well. He's blaming himself already the whole day... He even thought about refusing the throne, handing it over to you and learning to fight...." Áki's eyes widened. "By the norns... Of course, I am going to apologise!"

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