#oh no death by a thousand lich kisses

[herbgerblin]

ID: First image is digital art of Lup, an elven woman in her lich form. She has glowing, golden skin and long, curly glowing hair. She is wearing a flowing red robe that looks like flickering flames. She gestures behind herself and says, "You should see the other guy." Second image is of Barry Bluejeans, and human man in his lich form. His face and hands are black, while his eyes glow bright white. He is also wearing a red robe. He looks flustered with several hearts drawn around his head. His face is covered with many glowing yellow kiss marks. End ID.

[songbird-oracle]

Live thoughts watching Fantasy High Junior Year episode 5

Spoilers ahead

Im so nervous already about Cassandra

These dudes getting swole

It IS spicy tonight in the dome

Screaming

I WANT A BOGGY KISS

OH FUCK SHES HOLD MONSTERING KRISTEN

THE SECURITY COMING THROUGH OH SHIT

“Do you want me to kill that guy for you 👀” vibes

OH NO PLEASE NO NIGHTMARE KING OH NO OH NO

I’m Shittering my pants rn

No not the girlies!

Located in the astral mall, This place has *everything*. Ripped valley girls, a goddess and prophet and familiar going through a very tumultuous time in their relationship, a frog wearing a paper hat, and a weird ass clock

I live for the hangman banter

Oml I love the Yarrbucks coffee art

LOU HOLY SHIT

BOX OF DOOM DC5!? The stakes are seriously so high though

Okaaaaaaaay 13 works ig

“Does she need scratchies?”

Wooo Murph!!

THE STAR TALKS!?

I love Emily’s reaction to “banging out a 1st level spell”

Riz sadly flossing

Oh no Kristen oh no Cassandra!

No stop attacking Cassandra!!!!

🎶non-a-crits🎶

Thank goodness no failures

Break it up guys come ooooooooon

Damn, man needs strudel with sauce at a time like this

Profiling the minis 🤣

NOT THE TAP DANCING

“I don’t think you’re scared, I think you’re mad. And that’s okay” I’m sobbing

YES THE FUCKING SECURITY DETAIL

Kristen is so low, oh no

A 0 initiative 🥲

FUCK THIS IS WHAT RAGHS MOM ABSORBED!?!? Gorgug is the greatest wizard of our time

Abjurative grammar is prescriptive. Iykyk.

I knew the DC would be high

NAT 20 BEARDSLEY IN THE FUCKING HOUUUUUUUSE

YESSSSS HEALED CASSANDRA 😭

Oh fuck oh fuck bad stars

Let it out Cassandra, feel your feelings

Oh my goodness, philosophers scone

OOP PAUL BLART INTERGALACTIC MALL COP

It’s not the nightmare king??????

41 damage each, damn Adaine

We aren’t even half way through guys

BAHAHAHAHAHHA playful picking on Riz

Mass dispelling?? Damn

????? TUMMY ACHE SURVIVOR????

THE SHRIMP!!!!!!

Why is Fig a walking embodiment of Murphy’s law rn???

WHAT THE FUCK

NO NO NO DID GILEAR STEAL HER LUCK??????

IS THIS QUADRANGLE FUCKERY??????

Okay it’s just a curse

WAIT WHAT???

Cloaca why 😂

Whoopsies, shattered the shatter star

Oh fuck, rage Adaine is scary dude

Is this some rage and revenge deity??

Anyone but Conor

BAHAHAHAHAHA “no no, this is gonna happen”

“Stay hot Conor”

NOT KALINA NO

RAGH??????

Not the shimmy

WHAT IS KALINAS AC

44 DAMAGE??

Old Fabian

Legend has it the wizard is still waiting for his strudel with sauce

WHAT THE FUCK NO NOT CASSANDRA NO NO NO

“Unfortunately stop flossing”

COMPELLED DUEL ON KALINA OH FUCK

3!!!!! Woooooo!!!!!

Worst mall cop ever, Paul Blart would never

🤣 “is that not property damage??”

I’m so scared for Cassandra guys

Kristen and Cassandra are down oh no 🥲

BARDIC SHRIMPSPIRATION

NO NAT ONE NO NOOOOOOOO

Somewhere Katja Cleaver is raging because Conor Counterspell said he hates horses

A ball. Not *the* ball

ARMOR ZOMBIE AND LICH IM LIVING FIR THESE NAMES

Bards and Noble 🤣

Kristen coming in with the hugs

Box of doom has been working hard this episode

Shake out the bad ones

Screaming crying throwing up

I can’t look

Dammit Murph

Ecaf again

“What are you talking about girlieeeee?”

Brendan’s stare scares me

FUCK

Strudel for the win Girlie!!!

“One more roll girlie 🤪”

Oh no oh no oh no oh no oh no circle of death oh no

COUNTERSPELL MY BELOVED

“How old are you” “45” “gross”

WAIT WHAT TIME REVERSE TO- TEN SECONDS

Conor, you’re the best secret service agent ever

WHAT????? WHERES CASSANDRA??????

WHAT????????

I’m so fucking scared right now

Wait is Cassandra a triple goddess? Like how Hekate is a triple goddess, is Cassandra one? Cause Cassandra, Nightmare king, and a divine thing that isn’t a different divinity?

I want to enjoy “we got that bad boy buttered” but I can’t 🥲

Dead stare 🥲

I love Hangman 🥹

Feral Murph

NAT 20 SHRIMP JUMP

Thousand yard stare

Best shrimp jump ever

Maximum legend

That’s right, kick flip the system

Fuck KandyKorn Lullaby

See you at Basrars, I’ll be sobbing into my ice cream

[finderseeker]

Season 6 liveblog post! I'll be continuing the practice of putting it all under a read more so it doesn't clog up my blog or 55 people's dashboards.

So are we just not gonna talk about that Jake is partying with an all-powerful being and several cosmic entities including the lich?? (And also Peppermint Butler is there???)

I do like Prismo he seems cool. And he's got a neat design

Ohhh that's interesting about the lich. Prismo says the lich's "primary function is to cause mass death." And then compares him to "a machine without a purpose." Hmmmmm

Wait I thought the time room was outside of linear time

Finn is handling being in the same room as the lich, who's still in Billy's body, weirdly well.

DUDE WHAT IS THAT LIKE SHADOW PRISMO

PRISMO IS A DREAM!?

Why is he okay with being killed??

Wait, "killing a wishmaster"? Are there others??

"As soon as my corporeal body falls asleep again in a thousand years I'll be back!" PRISMO C'MON. THE LICH IS RIGHT THERE. YOU'VE GOTTA SEE WHY THIS IS A BAD IDEA.

*SCREECH*

Well at least the lich is imprisoned...?

Oh no. Weird black fire stuff

Either this guy's not his dad or his dad's just a jerk.

I'm gonna guess not his dad. He does suck.

Many questions about the lich...

UHH GRASS SWORD?

DUDE HIS ARM!?!? FOR THAT DICKWAD!?!?!? HIS ARM AND SICK GRASS SWORD!?

Is he gonna grow a grass arm...?

Uhhh more questions about the lich...

Oh no. I think uh. I think you guys should've told PB about this whole deal. Before you uh. Before you left baby lich with. Tree Trunks.

James again huh? Curious about that whole deal.

Three months since the zombie thing huh. Interesting when they give real a timeline for stuff.

Kind of. Um. Disturbing. How PB treats refusing to keep cloning James like she's firing someone from their job instead of. Y'know. Letting someone die. Like don't get me wrong I'm not saying treating him as expendable because he can be cloned was right either, but. Idk.

HE FAKED HIS DEATH A BUNCH OF TIMES?

"Dude I've been to your funeral like 25 times."

Banana guard just knew the term "vigintiquintuplets" huh

I've been wondering about how PB has, presumably, been the one who made the majority of the candy people, especially her own staff. And how she's definitely capable of making competent beings (like those gumball machine swordsmen), but she surrounds herself with goofballs, save for a few. Is it because she likes to feel like smartest one? Is it because she wants to be left to her own devices but can't take care of everything on her own? Is it because she wants to be needed? Some combination of those things?

This episode did not answer my questions about the radioactive goo.

I am glad that they're not brushing the arm thing off. I'm glad that they're not just giving him a prosthetic that replaces it perfectly. And the prosthetic PB gave him was unwieldy and hard to use, just like a real prosthetic.

Oh. He's got a ghost arm. :/

"AHH!" "What??" "I just thought about my anxieties, and it's like my mind-hand touched a hot memory-stove." That is EXACTLY WHAT IT FEELS LIKE YEAH.

Revenge be like that.

CANDY KINGDOM FALLOUT SHELTER?

Oh the ghost arm is gone that's good(?)

Dude where did you THINK that tower would fa

Once again: glad they’re not brushing this arm business or the effects of what happened with his dad off. It’s cool they’re exploring the numbness that comes after the anger.

Finn nooo don’t get your feel-good brain chemicals from kissing a whole bunch of girls! That won’t end well.

Did.

Did Finn.

Did Finn sleep with LSP…

TREE!?

HE REGREW HIS ARM!?

This feels like a cop-out, but at least it wasn’t immediate…

Alright. I admit I didn’t expect to be wrong about the ancient psychic tandem war elephant

Ohh another genderbend episode

LSP kidnapped the Ice King to make him read her take on Fionna and Cake. Incredible. Can’t wait to see how this goes.

I love that all these episodes are like, totally skewed by whoever writing.

Alright this is long. New reblog.

[leahnardo-da-veggie]

Lich-Queen, pt 6

(Fair warning: this is gory) If you want to read the rest of the series, you'll find links in the pinned post on my blog!

This time, my entry into the hall was triumphant, complete with fanfare. The highest nobles of Ceredell hauled the doors open like common slaves, and they pressed their once vibrant lips to trumpets. Hundreds of men and women turned at the sight of me, and a wave of clapping descended upon me. I flicked a manic curtsey, then gestured at the table before me, laid out as if for a buffet.

“Let me honour you all with a gift,” I announced. “Come, watch the death of the last nobleman of fallen Ceredell!”

A revenant wheeled Tamaris out. He was splayed on a board, arms spread apart. His face was white with agony, legs twisted. I tsked at him, inspecting his bonds. “Looks like your wings have crumpled, my butterfly,” I whispered. “I wish it could have been different.”

Tamaris met my eyes, and my half-dead heart crumpled to see the love in his gaze. “It is not too late, Ire,” he said. “Do not do this. Do not succumb.” His fingers twitched in my direction, an open hand offering forgiveness.

“It is you people who should apologise,” I hissed, slapping that hand. “I am taking my blood-right.” Turning to the audience, I said, “Let us begin our last course!”

Tamaris froze, finally understanding. I took the knife from Death-in-me, placing it along his chest. “I love you,” I said, loud enough for all to hear me. “And I will make you love me too.”

Then I began carving him alive. I started with the skin, peeling it from his ribs like lifting the skin off a potato. Tamaris howled in agony, his voice touching the heavens. My orchestra matched him, starting up an accompaniment of strings and bass.

Blood blossomed like a rose, painting my gloves crimson as I lovingly opened up his flesh for the world to see. His wings formed, dripping red as my butterfly of torment emerged from his chrysalis.

With my magic, I kept him alive beyond the bounds of humanity. As I hacked out his ribs, pulling the first hunk of meat and placing it on a plate, I was struck by the beauty of his face. Even weeping, eyes bulging, nails ripped off from clawing at wood, there was a noble gallance to him. I smiled, and tenderly tore out another rib.

His wails did not stumble, did not falter, even as the delicious scent of grilled Tamaris emanated from below my stage. I unravelled his intestines, the grey ropes spilling out, as the first of my new allies feasted on my love. His offal was affectionately wrapped around my arms, draped about me like a stole. Extracting his lungs, I regretfully turned his insides over to the grill for my guests.

His kidneys were next, laid out beside a leaky liver. With delicate care, I had left his heart framed in the hollow cave of his torso, like a singular rose in a vase. It pulsated and pumped, alien and oh-so-familiar.

Viscera dripped onto the floor with wet splotches, and I could not help but giggle. The power I held in my hands, to feast upon my own beloved's flesh, to create this masterpiece of butchery… It was, for lack of a better word, aortic.

I stuck my claws into his chest cavity and ripped out his heart, leaving him dependent on my necromancy to live. He was mine, once and for all. I raised my fist triumphantly, still-beating heart in my hands. The mass below me fell silent, the music fading, even Tamaris' ululations reduced to noiseless croaks.

“Know that I am Queen,” I announced to them, to my new allies. “I rule!” Words deserted me in my ecstasy, and I released a scream. It bounced off the walls and dug into my chest, no trace of the human I had once been within it.

My people let out a full-chested cheer, like the eruption of a volcano. A thousand voices held testament to my crown. I turned to Tamaris. His eyes begged me to stop this madness. 

Spoilsport.

I kissed him passionately, lips touching his, coaxing his tongue out. The rusty taste of his mouth made my dead heart race, a virgin on her wedding night. I closed my eyes, pulling him closer with an assertive arm. For one moment, we could be on the wedding altar.

But that moment ended. I closed my jaws on his tongue, sharp teeth severing it, and ripped it out. Blood gushed in the air as I gulped the slippery flesh down. “Ahh,” I sighed tenderly. Sensually, I ran my claws around the orbitals of his eyes, tracing his eyelid, probing at his eyeball. It popped out with breathtaking ease, and I devoured the gooey feast.

Placing his heart to my lips, I kissed it lovingly. My tongue delved into the gaping arteries, devouring it. Tangy flavour exploded on my tongue, and I basked in its divinity. 

Was there any act more intimate than cannibalism? I could not think of anything. Those haunted sockets of his, mouth hanging slack, gory and broken beyond repair, held a bond deeper than any ring or vow. 

This was true love. 

I threw my head and laughed. Snapping my fingers, I severed my magic and his bonds at once. My love fell like a ragdoll, discarded and worthless. The ghouls would fix up all the remnants and serve it to my guests.

As I began walking away, the last dregs of my humanity compelled me to stop. I turned back, grabbed the hollow of his throat lightly, and whispered, “Have your eternal peace, my love. ‘Tis the least you deserve.” 

[cordytriestowrite]

When I'm Miserable

Loki x Reader

Chapter One - All Other Chapters

Summary: Loki abandons his attempt to rebuild his relationship with Thor after realizing his brother will never fully trust or understand him. He finds himself drawn to a girl, now guardian of her little sister after their mother's sudden death, and tries to teach her the lessons of love, forgiveness, and acceptance before their differences tear them apart.

Salem, Indiana. When you first moved away from the small city and its six thousand residents you hated telling people where you were from.

"Oh, Massachusetts." They would say.

"No, Indiana." You would correct.

"I didnt know there was a Salem in Indiana." They would finish with a confused look on their face before going back to their more interesting California lives.

Now you were back and those conversations ceased to be a staple of introduction, but so many things had also ceased to be discussed. Food, art, culture, current events, all subjects thrown aside in the face of everyone's new favorite topic: what are you going to do?

"How are you going to handle raising your little sister?" They would ask.

"Did your mom leave you anything?" Inquired the snoopers.

"Are you okay?"

And were you okay? What a dumb question. Who would be okay being torn from the beginnings of a life they were building for themselves and coming back to a home without a mother? Who would be ready and to accept guardianship over their little sister and step into a parenting role no one had ever prepared them for?

You took a large sip of your beer, letting the carbonation tickle the roof of your mouth before swallowing around the bitter lump in your throat. It was 4pm on a Monday and you were on your second drink. Your bleary eyes glanced around the room, practically empty save for two older men further down the bar.

You hadn't been old enough to even enter a bar when you last lived in Salem. It felt odd to sit on the rickety wooden stool and think back to a time you desired this, the ability to legally drink in the O'Haimes Tavern and enjoy a Friday night with friends while listing to the live band. Had you been able to tell your teenage self you would end up here on a Monday afternoon to drown your sorrows all alone...

"Thanks for covering for me Rach." A frazzled looking women strolled quickly to your side of the bar, from the back room still trying up her long blonde hair. The other bartender, Rachel, you assumed, nodded sympathetically as she poured a set of double whiskeys for the men down the bar.

"No problem, I know how hard it is to adjust to Jason going back to school."

Your glass had only been a few centimeters off the bar top, which was lucky for you as your grip loosened and it wobbled dangerously before settling in its upright position. The noise brought the two bartenders' attention to you but you couldn't be bothered to care. You fumbled through your buzzed, sluggish movements into the purse thrown haphazardly into the seat next to you. You grasped your phone tightly and brought it to your face, throat seizing up fully as your sedated mind took in the unread texts and missed phone calls.

Where are you?

Did you forget about me?

Are you okay?!

You tried to keep an air of calm about you as you paid your bill and exited O'Haimes but you could tell by your slight imbalance that you probably didn't fool anyone. You hurried along the sidewalk as fast as your wobbly ankles would carry you, the edge of Salem High School's property revealing itself a few blocks later. You couldn't help but mumble to yourself as you made your way around the wide chain-link fence to the school entrance.

"Please be there. Please be there. Please be there."

And there she was, looking put out and pouty sitting on the blue bench just to the left of the front doors. She was on her phone and hadn't yet noticed you so you slowed down and straightened your spine. The walk had sobered you enough to put on that mask of calm you couldn't conjure at the bar.

As you got closer she still didnt notice you, too absorbed in her phone to look up. You shook your head and smiled. Her generation was so lucky to have cell phones to entertain them while they wait, all you had was-

Your thoughts stuttered to a stop as a tall man appeared from around the corner and sat next to your sister. He was close to her, his head bent towards her, and she looked up at him and smiled. He smiled back and you could feel a wave of protective instinct wash over you like a cold shower. Your pace quickened until you were in a full on sprint.

"Amanda." You said so loudly and forcefully you practically barked your sister's name like an order. Both your sister and the man next to her looked up in surprise. You raced up the steps, your once unreliable equilibrium steadied by an alert, on-edge version of soberness.

"Finally!" She exhaled dramatically, like your tardiness was exhausting. She tucked her phone into her back pocket as she rose from the bench.

The man next to her stood as well. He looked impossibly tall next to your little sister, all short and fragile looking. You took a step closer to the man and squared your shoulders. While you still had to tilt your chin to look him in the eye you were not at the same height disadvantage as your sister.

"Hello there-" he began before you cut him off with a solid, clear tone.

"Stay away from her."

"I beg your pardon?" He asked. His accent startled you for a moment, so unlike all the midwestern accents wriggling in your ears since coming home last month. You blinked twice to regain your focus and your resolve.

"Stay away from my sister. She's under age. Did you know that, pervert?"

"I'm well aware-" he started, adjusting his glasses, but this time his words were interrupted by Amanda's profuse apologies, her hand on your arm pulling you back down the stairs and away from the well dressed, bespectacled threat before you. You maintained eye contact, harsh and defiant, until you reached the first step down and were forced to turn or risk falling down the four concrete steps and make a fool of yourself.

"What were you thinking?!" Amanda shrieked as she continued to pull you by the arm. You turned back to catch a glimpse of the man as you turned the corner but he was gone.

"A grown man should not be hanging around a high school preying on teenage girls." You stumbled slightly but caught your footing. Looking back you found the block of sidewalk slightly raised. It had snagged the tip of your shoe as you took a step. You sent your glare down, ready to take a larger step upon arrival of the next uneven slab.

"He's the librarian. Hanging around the school is kind of his job. You would have known that if you weren't drunk."

You stumbled despite the level ground beneath you at your sister's words. She slowed down and finally let go of your arm, only to fold hers across her chest and glare at you with a disgusting amount of judgement.

"Is that why you were late? You were drinking in the middle of the day again?" She wasn't expecting an answer because she already knew what she was saying was true. You knew what would come next as well, it was the same argument as last time and the time before that.

"You're going to die on me too if you don't cut it out. You'll get in an accident or drown in your own vomit or destroy your liver and-"

"I know Amanda," you sigh heavily and pinch the bridge of your nose, eyes closed so you didn't have to see her face. "I know."

"And now you're ruining my life. Mr Loki is really nice and now he's going to look at me like everyone else does." While her voice began loudly and passionately it trailed off into quiet uncertainty. Your ears pricked up and your vision sharpened, a different kind of safeguard mindset than the one you had earlier against this Mr Loki. You had to protect her from herself now, those thought of self doubt that consume and devour from the inside.

"How does everyone look at you?"

"They look at me like my mom just died. Like I'm helpless. They all pity me." A sob bubbled out like a punctuation at end her statement. You reached for your sister, so young and fragile and in no way undeserving of the looks and the glances she must be catching, and pulled her into a tight hug. You rocked her back and forth so severely her feet had to lift and fall in time to your swings to keep you both from toppling to the ground.

"I'm sorry." You murmured into her hair, "I'm sorry for a lot of things."

She said nothing but held on to the back of your shirt like her life depended on it. You pulled her back by her shoulders so she could see your face with its reassuring smile and kind eyes.

"Tomorrow I will come pick you up on time and apologize to Mr Loki."

"Sober?"

"As sober as a judge." You promised. She reached her fist between your chests and extended her pinky. You wrapped your own around it and kissed your thumb. She did the same. Your journey home continued after that, side by side you strode leisurely and your mind wandered back to the front steps of Salem High School and its librarian.

"Amanda?" You started. She hummed in response to show she was listening.

"What kind of name is Mr Loki?"

She laughed loudly and it reminded you of your mom's laugh when she found something surprisingly amusing. Your stomach flipped at the similarity and at the fact that you would never hear them laugh at the same time like that ever again.

"Apparently he was named after some Norse god or something. It's a weird name right?"

You both giggled and ducked your heads against a gust of wind then walked the rest of the way home in companionable silence.

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[youhearstatic]

{3}

After being missing for three days, Barry has been mysteriously de-aged. Now he looks 20 years old and doesn’t remember anyone. Lup, Kravitz, and Taako are trying to figure things out. 

Now officially called “Losing Time” and up on AO3 if you’d prefer to read there.

Part One  | Part Two | Part Three | Part Four | Part Five | Part Six | Part Seven | Part Eight | Part Nine | Part Ten | Part Eleven | Part Twelve | Part Thirteen | Part Fourteen | Part Fifteen

Part Three:

Taako and Kravitz are trekking through a swamp. Or, Kravitz is. Taako is levitating just above the muck, moving himself by using the limbs of the cypress trees that surround them.

When Kravitz slips in the mud for the third time in twenty minutes, Taako makes his offer of levitate yet again. “No, save your spell slots,” Kravitz tells him. “My clothes will come clean.”

They continue on for several minutes. Neither spots any sign of a skirmish or necromantic activity.

“Um, Skeletor?” Taako says thoughtfully, drifting to a halt. “Was there mud on Barry’s clothes?”

“Fuck,” Kravitz says. “I was only thinking of the original intel. That was extremely foolish.” His mouth is a hard line as he studies the sun slanting through the trees. “Well, best we eliminated this area while there was still light,” he says, sounding resolved. His scythe appears in his hand. “Next location,” he states and slices open a portal.

 When they step out of the portal, they are a few feet away from a slim crevice formed by a rockfall. The waning sunlight doesn’t penetrate the passage at all. Taako’s elven dark vision is enough to confirm the space is extremely narrow and creepy as fuck.

“In there?” Taako asks, eyebrows raised. “Why are necromancers always setting up shop in such shitty places? Can’t they rent some office space or something?”

“Well, the good news is… Barry couldn’t have gone in there,” Kravitz points out. “I’d have a tough time managing it in ‘full skeletor mode’ as I believe you’ve called it.”

“Fuck yeah,” Taako says, “Another off the list.” His attitude sobers. “So what if the last place is a bust?”

“We look harder,” Kravitz responds as his scythe appears in his hand.

“Let’s hope ‘third times the charm’ then, my dude,” Taako tells him as he proceeds through the newest portal.

  The third time is not the charm. The sun has nearly disappeared at the horizon now but they don’t need much light to see there’s just nowhere for necromancers to hide their activities.

Taako looks around. “Okay, I’ll give them points for ambience. The dead trees really give it a nice ‘dead and hating it’ vibe. But there’s just nothing here. Did we miss something?”

“I don’t know,” Kravitz answers. “But I think I need to check in at the stockade. His bounty was collected. Maybe they have some answers for us.”

“Answers they’ll have any reason to share?” Taako pointed out.

“I believe the Raven Queen has already considered that. Do you want to return to Lup while I return to the Astral Plane, then?”

Taako nods. “She’s not handling this great. But she’s doing a lot better than I would. Stay out of whatever the fuck Barry found, okay?”

Kravitz opens a portal back to Lup and Barry’s home. He kisses Taako on the forehead and wraps one arm around the elf’s shoulders. “Keep an eye on her. I’ll meet you there as soon as I can.”

“Promise me,” Taako insists. He puts a hand on Kravitz’s cheek.

Kravitz meets Taako’s eyes in a long beat of silence. “Taako, I can’t promise nothing will ever happen to me. But I have been doing this a very long time. And I promise I will always do my best to come back,” he says carefully. “To you.”

Taako nods, accepting his answer. “Guess that’s the best I can hope for.” He kisses Kravitz and enters the portal.

Kravitz closes the portal behind him and opens a new one to the Astral Plane.

  Lup returns to the bedroom and resumes her position on the floor watching her husband sleep. The sun is hugging closer to the horizon and the room is slashed with golden light and lengthening shadows.

But her eyes can handle much less light than human vision. She’s struggling to compare the Barry in front of her now to the one she first saw an hour or so ago. Is he getting younger? If he were losing a decade a day would she be able to see a change in that amount of time? If the loss is gradual it would be roughly five months per hour. Could she notice five months of aging? On her Barry’s face, the face she’s seen nearly every day for a hundred years, she believes she could see such a change. On this face that is familiar but foreign? She doubts she could tell. Kravitz was with him for a while before she got here. Maybe he can tell if there’s a difference when he and Taako get back.

There are questions circling in her mind that she’s desperately unable to avoid. If Barry ages backwards into non existence, is that death? Can he emerge as a lich from that? It’s nothing they’ve ever read about. It would be a fascinating theoretical discussion if it weren’t her husband’s existence on the line. And what of their service to the Raven Queen? Would the Queen’s dominion take precedence and restore him? Lup has no answers for any of these questions.

“Hey,” a voice says.

Lup has been so lost in her thoughts that she is startled by Barry speaking to her.

“Hey,” she manages to respond.

“You’re ‘Lup’ right? That’s what the other guy - Kravitz - called you?”

She nods.

“You look wiped out,” he observes. “Oh, gods, is this your bedroom? He did say he was bringing me back to your house. I’m sorry, I’ll…” He throws back the covers to get up.

“It’s fine,” she reassures him. She leans forward and pulls the blanket out of his hands and smooths it over him. “Elves don’t have to sleep.”

“Oh,” he responds and sinks back against the pillow. “I think I knew that. You… meditate? Were you meditating just now?”

“Not exactly,” she answers with a small smile.

“Can you sleep?” he asks. “Er, sorry, is that rude?”

“No, it’s not rude. And yes, I can sleep.” She thinks of thousands of nights curled up with him in their bunk or on the couches aboard the Starblaster and far, far fewer in their home, in this bed. “Sleeping is nice, sometimes.”

“Well, if you want to try, there’s plenty of room up here still.” A blush creeps over his face. “Or I can move. I didn’t mean…” He coughs. “You just look like you could use some rest.

The cough reminds her. “Oh, here,” she tells him. She pulls the inhaler out of her pocket and hands it too him. “I don’t know if it’s the right thing but it’s what we could get.”

“Thanks,” he says.

He sits up and uncaps the inhaler. She watches him make motions that are alien to her but clearly second nature to him. He shakes the inhaler, and puffs it into the air. He exhales and then breathes in deeply with the inhaler in his mouth. When he finishes, he recaps the inhaler and puts it on the table by the bed. He leans back on the pillow. After a few moments he exhales again. “Thanks, that helps,” he tells her.

“You should get some more sleep. I don’t think you’ve gotten more than an hour’s sleep in the last few days,” Lup tells him. “I can go,” she offers reluctantly. “I didn’t mean to bother you.”

“No,” he answers quickly. “Please. Don’t go.” He turns on his side again to look at her.

“Okay,” she agrees and leans back against the wall in relief. She drapes one arm over her raised knees in front of her. She rolls her shoulders and rubs a hand over the back of her neck.

“You look exhausted. Not that you look bad! I mean, you look gorgeous. Oh gods, I… well, come on, obviously you’re beautiful,” he admits, darting his eyes away from her. He coughs and stops to take another slow, deep breath. When he continues he can only manage to look at a place on the wall beside her and his face is burning with embarrassment. “Have you slept in the last few days?”

“I told you elf rest works differently,” she answers, amused.

“That’s not an answer,” he points out, meeting her eyes briefly. He looks away immediately but a shy smile blooms on his face.

It’s the smile that does it. His face might be missing the years and lines she is familiar with but it’s the smile she knows so well that spreads on his face. She wants to run her fingers over his mouth and trace it. She’s had a body again for just a little while. She’s not touched him nearly enough in that time. “No, I haven’t slept,” she answers fondly. “Or meditated.”

“Well the offer stands,” he says quietly. “I mean, it’s your bed. You’re welcome to …” he stops talking and covers his face with his hand. “I’m going to be quiet now. But you know what I meant.”

All those years on the Starblaster and I never noticed how often he got embarrassed around me? she thinks. Then she immediately answers her own question. Except, I did notice. I pretended it wasn’t happening the same way I ignored my own feelings. I wasted so much time, she thinks, and her stomach feels packed with lead. So, fine. If he’s going to… If something is going to happen then I can lay beside him for a little while first.

“Okay,” she answers.

Part Four

[luruneth]

The San’layn - Part 1

[M/M, cis, gay, vampires, WoW]

You kept telling yourself that it was fine, you’d been there thousands of times.

You weren't afraid of anything, you could literally cast fire out of your hands!

Yet you couldn't help but feel as if you were being watched by something… or someone.

You had grown bored with arcane baubles and cute little books and dainty magic that the Kirin Tor occupied themselves with in Dalaran. You could hardly sit still as you listened to yet another lecture about the dangers of blood-magic from an older mage in the Hall of the Guardian. You wanted some fun, so you left.

The icy winds of Northrend slapped you awake as you materialised in front of Icecrown Citadel. You’d missed this place. The new Lich King wouldn’t mind if you came in and cleaned up a little, now would he…?

No less than an hour later you found yourself knee-deep in dead, smouldering Scourge that had lingered around the bowels of the dark fortress. Pure destruction magic was simple enough, but its effects were exhilarating. You burned ghouls, geists, abominations, hell, even Val’kyr down in swathes with ease as you tore your way through the familiar halls. You weren’t sure what you were looking for, but anything even remotely interesting would make the trip worth it. Better than the Kirin Tor and their mindless lectures. By the time you had reached the Crimson Halls, you were growing bored and hoping to find some kind of relic or something.

But once again… you couldn’t help but feel that something was different this time. The hair on the back of your neck raised and you could feel something getting closer. You began the incantation for a massive pyroblast spell, and whirled around to face whatever was stalking you.

Except there was nothing. You looked in every direction feasible. Were you just losing your mind?! You could have sworn you felt something. You'd fought your way through Icecrown Citadel hundreds, probably thousands of times in exterminations and clean-ups, yet you’d never felt such an intense dread before. You knew better than to let your guard down. Not like it mattered, anyway.

An iron grip locked itself on your arm. Something was behind you. You struggled to free yourself, panic coursing through your veins. An animalistic growl emanated from the thing holding you, and a searing pain rippled through your body as you felt its sharp teeth pierce your throat. Blood gushed from the wound and you screamed in agony.

Your entire body combusted into an amalgamation of living flames. The gaping wound on your neck instantly cauterised under the intense flames engulfing your being. You felt the thing release you, and you whipped around to face it, ready to strike.

The thing was… an elf? He looked to be Sin’dorei, just like you… but more of a wild beast than a man. Whereas your eyes burned with green fel-magic, his radiated sanguine malice. Those piercing eyes glared at you from a sunken, starved face and his skin was the pale-blue of a drowned corpse.

A feral hiss escaped the elf’s mouth. He clutched his hand to his chest, and his hateful stare bored into you. You readied your spell and launched an enormous ball of flames at him. A wall of ice suddenly burst forth between you and the elf-thing, deflecting your attack but melting in the process. As the mist and smoke dispersed, your heart dropped into your stomach. He was gone.

You began casting another spell when suddenly you felt him behind you again. Pure, unrelenting panic seized you as your spells failed to come into fruition. Terror gripped your heart as you looked down to see that your arms and legs were encased in razor-sharp, solid ice. You struggled to conjure some sort of flame, your eyes glowing and smoke pouring from your mouth as you willed every part of your being to connect with the flames, but to no avail.

Your heart almost stopped when he touched you. You weren’t ready to die, you were far too magnificent to die to some animal! His hands didn't’t tear you apart as you expected them to, however. Rather, they were gently cradling your hips.

In a gravelly voice that echoed with the obvious taint of the Scourge, he whispered in your ear, causing your skin to crawl.

“Mother always told us not to play with our food… But she’s dead now, so who’s stopping me…?”

You looked down to see his pale hands undoing your belt buckle. Was he… was he coming on to you? He gently bit your elongated ear and growled softly as he began lifting up your robe, no longer tethered in place by your belt. His hand slid into your silken undergarments, and he gently stroked you. Oh gods, he was coming on to you. You gasped as you felt yourself grow harder. He began to stroke your cock delicately. You purred aloud without even realising it, and upon catching yourself, you weren’t sure if what you were feeling was fear anymore. He cackled. He rested his chin on your shoulder, and his other hand easily tore your undergarments clean off. Your engorged cock swelled in his hand as he softly stroked the length of your penis, and his other hand snaked around you, under your other frozen arm, fondling your balls. You couldn’t feel your hands or feet any longer, and somehow that made the experience far more intense. You felt a pressure mounting within you, and cum gushed out of you and onto the floor of the now-desolate Crimson Halls. Upon release, you let out an exasperated gasp.

“See… the San’layn aren’t ALL barbarians…” he whispered, his voice deep and sultry, “now it’s my turn.”

You heard the clanking of plate armour dropping to the floor behind you. His hands no longer cradled your still-dripping cock, and you had a feeling he was undressing behind you. You felt him push himself up against you. His girth was… impressive. You could feel his large cock against your rear. He loosed a primal growl, and you moaned loudly as he plunged himself into you. He started slowly, his hips gyrating as he moved in and out of you with the utmost grace. You whimpered and soft moaning escaped your lips. The side of his face was pressed against yours, and you felt him grin in response to your noises. You felt his sharp fangs, cold against your cheek. He didn’t breathe, but still he sighed and growled as his cock swelled within you.

His hands travelled up your robe, icy cold but not shocking against the fiery heat of your body. He studied every inch of your torso, and then his hands slid down to your waist. He pulled himself flush against you, his enormous cock entirely within you now.

You screamed with a mixture of ecstacy and agony as you felt those long fangs plunge into your throat once again. Your inner fire blazed, but no magic would come to aid you now. Even as crimson vitality poured from your body, you couldn’t muster the strength or focus to begin a blood-magic spell. You felt your life-force being siphoned into him. Your eyes grew heavy and your head grew lighter. His nails were like talons, raking across your helpless body, tearing your robes to shreds and blood spurting from your wounds.

The combination of adrenaline, lightheadedness, and ecstasy launched you into an unimaginable state of euphoria. Your cock swelled and you felt yourself wanting to come again. Your insides tightened, and the San’layn plunging himself into you growled like a wolf. He began to thrust harder, and much faster. You weren’t sure if the screaming you heard was actually coming from your mouth, but as your hips rocked back and forth as the vampire pushed himself inside of you, you yearned for nothing else in the world.  

His fangs were still latched into your throat, yet he grunted and groaned as he continued to thrust. His claws raked across your back, and you felt a cascade of warm blood trailing down your body. He was thrusting so hard that you thought you felt as if you might also be bleeding inside, but the dizzying cocktail of stimuli assaulting your senses made it hard to tell. Not like you cared.

You reached weakly to begin stroking yourself - wait, you weren’t frozen anymore? You weren’t sure when the ice sloughed off of you, but you wouldn’t do anything to stop him now. A stream of cum cascaded from your cock once again, and from behind you, he let out a sultry, primal growl. He was going so fast now, you would have been dizzy from pleasure regardless of blood loss. You heard him stop grunting and moaning for a moment as a gasp caught in his throat, and you felt his swollen cock begin to twitch inside of you. He cried out with a guttural roar, and you felt a wave of cum pour into you. He stayed inside of you, howling, gasping, moaning, and rigidly holding your hips flush to his. He convulsed and shook and he released all of that pressure into you. As he withdrew his soaking wet cock from your dripping hole, you fell backwards into him. He caught you, his arms like cold stone.

You felt the last bit of life ebbing away from your body. Nothing seemed real. You were dying. Your legs buckled and your head cleared enough to hear your laboured breathing.

The San’layn gently turned you over in his arms. His eyes were now a soft, icy blue, and concern was plastered across his face. He pressed you gently against a wall, one hand holding you up by your back, and the other caressing your chin. He leaned in and kissed you. His lips were impossibly soft and gentle, and you felt vitality begin to flow back into your body. Some strength returned to your legs, and he let you stand on your own as the hand holding you up travelled up behind your head, and he gently pressed you into him. You felt yourself able to breathe again without struggle. His other hand slid under the tatters of your shredded robe, and as his had glided over your flesh, you felt your wounds closing.

He withdrew for a moment to look you up and down. Your clothes were in tatters, and you were bruised all over, but you were alive, and colour had returned to the body that had been on the brink of death moments ago. He stepped closer to you. The tip of his nose rested against yours, and his forehead was pressed against you, his eyes closed. He opened them briefly to look at you. His irises were frozen lakes that glowed with the taint of undeath, but his gaze was soft. He brushed your cheek with a pale, bluish hand. He kissed you again, and you felt his arms wrapped around your lower back. You draped yours around his neck and shoulders, and he pulled you flush against him.

It was probably only a few moments, but it felt like an eternity as you locked yourselves together. You swayed like flowers in the breeze together. Your heart beat like a drum, and a wave of euphoria swept over you - but different now. It was happiness. You felt his fingers playing with the ends of your long, crimson hair that cascaded in a mess down your back.

He sighed and stopped to look at you. His tender gaze held you in a trance. You had forgot that any time had passed. In a clearer, deep and echoing voice, he softly spoke to you.

“Come with me.”

You couldn’t find the sense or willpower to respond aside from a dazed nod of your head. Your mind was swimming. The once-haughty, impetuous mage had been reduced to a mute, dumb-struck puppet. He grinned, his fangs now sheathed and reduced to look like normal, if not slightly elongated canines. You melted a little at his smile, and your legs actually buckled. He caught you and held you against him. Your life-force had been returned, but you were still weak and beaten from the entire experience. Your breathing became ragged for a moment as pain shot through you.

With ease, he lifted you up like a ragdoll. Your head lolled to the side, and he cupped your face with one hand, holding you with only one of his statuesque arms. Gracefully he glided through the empty corridors of the Crimson Halls, once the home of the San’layn who had served under Arthas. You felt safe in the vampire’s arms. You looked up at his face as he carried you. Angular, hallowed, yet strong and full, he was an enigma. A dead man with the vitality of someone with the beating heart of a lion. You reached up weakly to touch him, and he looked down at you with a warm grin. You couldn’t muster the strength to reach his face, but managed rather to leave your hand against his colourless chest. You felt no heartbeat.

The ceiling above you was a facade of razor-sharp dark steel and deep crimson tapestry. The San’layn set you down gently on a luxurious bed adorned with a scarlet duvet, gilded with intricate patterns in a sheen of gold and red. He wrapped the blanket around you tenderly. You shivered - Icecrown Citadel was still in the bitterly cold confines of Northrend, and you were still weak.

He left you for a moment and strode across the room. He pulled a lever, and a row of magic-infused lanterns encircling the circumference of the room flared to life, emitting a pleasant, warm glow. You struggled to keep your eyes open, and you began to give into the sweet temptation of sleep. In the fleeting moments that you remained conscious, you felt him lay next to you. He leaned over, draping one arm across you and pulling you onto him so that your head lay on his chest, just below his chin. He kissed the top of your head and ran his fingers through your hair until the clutches of sleep finally claimed you.

https://www.patreon.com/Luruneth

[stillpartofthisworld]

Don’t Let Go-TAZ

Guess who wrote a Blupjeans fic in the first week of school???? Haha I’m so failing

Yes of course it’s on ao3

Plz pray that I will be able to writee more than 2k words before burnout

Fic under the cut

It was two forty seven AM when Lup got her body back. She was used to staring at her imperfect form through the long hours of the night, inspecting it from all sides to see why, exactly, she wasn't able to inhabit it yet. A missing bone here. A patch of flesh there. She watches her body, night after night after night, sewing itself back together from a mere kiss. She is still perplexed by the intricacy of both the magic and machinery that must have went into the construction of this thing. When she finally had a body, she thinks, she would break it down and figure out how it ticked. (Around 3 months later, she gets a strongly worded letter from the Raven Queen, telling her that no, she could not figure out how this machine worked and replicate it because it went against the laws of life and death, which was everything she stood for. Also, a century's pay would be cut.)

But for now, she busies herself by staring, if not at herself then at Barry, asleep on the bed that Magnus had made them (even though only one of them could actually use it). The cottage they had picked out for themselves was small and manageable, considering the fact that they were in Barry's old cave most of the time, finishing up projects and getting ready to move into one of Lucas Miller's labs that wasn't a form of aerial transportation (they were both, at the end of the day, still huge nerds.). After that...well, they were reapers, baby; it would probably be time to take the job more seriously. As of now, she was torn between looking at both herself and the love of her many lives, who was quietly snoring as he lay face up, sprawled on the bed (He used to sleep on his side, one arm draped around a shoulder she didn't have anymore, sometimes a leg pushed in between her own, wait, she didn't have legs anymore, wait) Barry's body has grown thinner while she was away, worry and work having sculpted him into a rather muscular man, something that she persists to tease him about ("My nerd does even lift!" "Shut up, Lup, please."). Since he sleeps shirtless most of the time, she's able to see his abs rising and falling with each breath. She wishes she could run her hands along them, watching the way his breath hitched and his muscles tightened as he stares at her in embarrassment and pleasure. She wishes but the only thing she can do now is wrap her robe around him, telling him that she's still here as he grips her robe, trying to breathe in her very essence as a substitute for her hands, her lips, her body- She feels a tug in her soul. She spins to see that there's a flashing green light on the console next to the pod, and she doesn't need to get closer to read the script under it to know was this means. She floats over, the hood of her robe level with her own head, and she pushes a bit of herself through the glass, testing to see if she's actually able to get in, to have a body again, finally-

She sees a bit of shadow, a hint of magic permeate through the glass and float up to her partly opened mouth, which twitches. It occurs to her that she should probably wake up Barry but she's too excited, too impatient, too Lup to actually think of anything else but crashing through the glass, surrounding her body in magic and mist before feeling her soul constrict and her senses collapse, then expand as she fills this body, this vessel this Lup, and she, for the first time in twelve years, at two forty seven AM, takes a breath. Which is a bit hard to do when you're surrounded by green liquid. She grabs onto the edge of the open-topped pod and pulls herself up, feeling the sensation of muscle and bone working in harmony, of liquid splashing and sliding against her skin and as she perches on top of the pod, staring at the ground seven feet below. She nearly loses her balance because she can actually see, not sense but see with actual eyes and hands and body and for a second it's all too much. She closes her eyes and breathes in, out, in, out, focusing on her lungs expanding, her heart pumping at a regular pace until it trips up because she hears someone call her name. "Lup?" Barry has woken up, and is now reaching for his glasses as he struggles to see what looks to him to be a coloured blob on top of the pod. "Barry," Lup leans forward at the sight of him, she can finally see him and he looks beautiful-"Babe, I'm...!" She lets out a yelp as she slips from her perch and crashes to the ground, landing on top of her robe which does nothing to cushion the jarring pain that traveled up her spine (even this part she enjoys, because pain means that you're alive and she's alive, well and truly alive but ow-).

"Oh shit, Lup!" Barry's at her side in an instant, crouching down and inspecting her for damage, his human eyes squinting and struggling to see in the dim light. “I'm fine, I'm fine,” Lup winces but laughs all the same, feeling the hearty rumble of it starting in her chest and shaking it's way out of her in a fit of wonder and joy. He looks up at this, and she turns to look at him and they both freeze, staring at each other as if meeting for the first time; the same way they looked at each other on the Starblaster, on the planet of the robots, in the Legato conservatory so, so many lives ago. She sees herself in his eyes, hair cascading down her back and covering part of her small face, her upturned eyes, her pointed nose, her small mouth that parted slightly every single time she looked at him just as it was now, and it's all she can do to say "Damn, I forgot how good I looked." Barry blinks, and a small smirk appears on her lips as she says "I'm about to smooch your heart out, babe." There's a small pause between them, these two people who have been together for a century because for a minute, they forget how it was to actually touch each other, to hold and grasp and kiss because it's been twelve years since both of them were corporeal and together. Even now, crouching beside each other in the dim light of the cottage they're apart, his knees are just barely brushing her thigh, her shoulder just missing his own. And so there's a pause. But then Barry cups his hands on either side of her face and Lup automatically moves her own to his wrists, and they lock eyes. Barry looks at her with questioningly, asking her, always asking her May I? and her answer is always Yes, please, yes. He bends down, and she closes her eyes as she feels his lips brush the top of her forehead, the sides of her eyes, her nose, just relishing in the sensation of skin on skin. She concentrates, and soon she feels the light swipe of his lips barely touching her own, his own mouth parting in the realization that he was kissing her, actually kissing her, for the first time in twelve years. The swipe becomes a firm press, and now her arms are around his neck and his arms have moved to circle her hips and legs as he stands, carrying her small body. She sighs and leans against him, deepening the kiss, and for a minute she forgets that she's naked until the back of her knees are hooked around his forearm but that just makes the sensations all the more real, so much more realer than all the times he tried to hold her in her Lich form. They don't let go of each other even as he sets her down on the bed, climbing in with her and throwing the duvet over their heads. She can still see in the darkness, but chooses to close her eyes as their lips meet again, feeling tongue on tongue and teeth on lips. She can taste (finally, she can taste) the chamomile in the tea he had an hour ago, the chocolate he had hidden away for midnight snacks and all she think about is him, him kissing every part of her face and whispering her name like a prayer.  And her hands wander down his body, touching his neck, his chest, faltering at the quickstep she feels when her palm lies over his heart. And her hands continue, nails raking across his abdomen. His response is just as she dreamed, and he pulls away from her just as his breath hitches and his muscles tighten. She can feel his eyes on her, even though he can't actually see as he says "I love you,", and even though he's said that a thousand times a day for the past year it's somehow so much more meaningful now, right here, under the duvet of the bed Magnus made them because she can feel his heart pounding madly in his chest, keeping time with her own heart (oh, yes, she has a heart now-). She opens her mouth, feels the vibration of her vocal cords as she says "I love you too," and pulls him in for another kiss, tangling her hands in his hair, leaning into his arms as they trace circles on her waist. She feels his mouth stretch into a smile under her own, and as she moves closer to nuzzle his neck when she feels something wet brush against her cheek. She pulls away and brings up a hand to swipe her cheek, raising her fingers to her tongue. Salt.

“Barry?”

A muffled sob escapes her lover, and her hands find his face and his hand which he is using to cover his mouth. “Barold, what's wrong?” She feels the first stab of fear enter her body, a feeling that she was well acquainted with. It pierces her heart and mind, but she chooses to ignore her thoughts and focus on Barry, Barry who has always been by her side who is now crying even though she's back so she asks again.

Barry lets out a huge sigh before answering. “Nothing, it's just...Lup, I missed you so much.” She murmurs something positive and he shakes his head slightly. “No, no, I know you missed me too but, Lup, every time I would get my body back, I would forget all about you. I’d forget and, even though it wasn't as bad as Taako, I...I’d lose a part of myself every time. And it was horrible.” She wants to tell him to stop, that she understood and that it was hell for her too, trapped in that small chamber but he keeps going and she keeps listening, caressing his cheek and his hair as he breathes. “I was always alone, always just following the instructions that I gave myself and it always felt like I was missing something or someone and, and it was just lonely, God, I was so lonely!” He chokes back a sob and her arms go around his neck again and he pulls her towards him, pressing her against him as if she could protect him from the past, from memories that couldn't be erased. He continues. “And even when I was a Lich, I couldn't find you, you don't know how hard I looked for you, I thought that something had happened and you couldn't become a Lich when I saw Taako with your staff and I nearly lost control-”

She remembers that part, seeing Barry beginning to spark and twitch and unravel at the very seams when he saw her staff but not her in it. She remembers stretching herself out, throwing everything she had at the dark curtains that kept her from everyone, that kept her from him even as he screamed and raged and unwound right in front of her and she remembers the fear, that bone chilling fear that he was going to leave her alone, the aching loneliness that came after he had calmed down and disappeared.

She feels a pain in her chest. At first, she's confused-there was no wound there. And then the pain travels to her throat and a ragged sound rips out of her, and it's only after Barry’s thumbs wipe her face that she understands that she's crying. She lets the tears fall and she tells him about being in the umbrastaff, the anger and fear and anxiety she felt while trapped in that hell of a chamber for a complete decade. She tells him how she kept sane by remembering him and Taako but mostly him, about the relief and concern she felt when she saw him in Lich form and her pure frustration at the fact that she couldn’t touch him or anyone else for the past year, and that she loved him, she loved him, she loved him. She tells him this and more as she cries and he comforts her, running his hands through her hair and down her back, whispering nothings and catching her tears with his lips, telling her that he loved her, he loved her, he loved her and they stay like that for a while as she composes herself, pulling back again and opening her eyes to look at his tearstained face with Darkvision.

She takes a breath, now all cried out and heaves a breathy laugh. “Dammit, Bluejeans…” her voice sounds hoarse and full of emotions that she was barely capable of processing a few minutes ago. “It’s literally been five minutes and we’re both crying.”

Barry laughs at this too, even though his voice was just as worse for wear as her own. “Aw, babe, did you miss me?” He teases and she sniffs, flicking his nose before kissing it. “Of course.” He wraps his arms around her waist and kisses her forehead, placing his chin on her head. She sighs and leans back into him, her ear resting right on top of his beating heart.

There are some jags of crying, comforting and kissing, but for the most part they lay there, caught between sleep and wakefulness as they hold each other close, hand in hand.

And they don’t let go.

Constructive criticisms is much much much appreciated!! I’m a science nerd I don’t take writing classes

[ignitesthestxrs]

fifty sentences on Lup and Barry, and a love that defined and redeemed them.

#01 - Comfort

It is Barry’s one solace in the face of failure - holding memories of Lup close, letting them fuel the fire to try again.

#02 - Kiss

Telling her he wants to kiss her might just be the bravest thing he’s ever done, and the best.

#03 - Soft

He’s not - he’s never been an athlete, something he’s abruptly glad of when he sees Lup wrinkling her nose at Magnus lifting pretty much anything that comes to hand.

#04 - Pain

The first time Taako dies, it’s like having her soul torn in half (and there’s Barry, not trying to stitch her back together again, just cupping the pieces of her in his hands until she’s ready to do something with them).

#05 - Potatoes

“Sit your butt down, Bluejeans, you have not had some damn fantasy French fries until you’ve had Lup’s fantasy French fries, understand?”

#06 - Rain

He takes her outside when it’s raining, cups her jaw and kisses her (Lup loves the romance of it, and Barry Bluejeans is very occasionally smooth as hell).

#07 - Chocolate

“Barry, oh my god, Barry - I love you, but please never do this to a ganache again.”

#08 - Happiness

It’s not noble, or even particularly sane, but he knows he could fail at everything else and still be happy if he could just hold her again.

#09 - Telephone

There’s a world where she takes a thousand photographs of herself, and you can bet he’d help her pick out her best angles if he didn’t think they were all wonderful.

#10 - Ears

The longer they’re together, the more confident he gets (and the more likely he is to take advantage of things like the sensitivity of her ears, murmuring to her over breakfast and stifling a grin as she very abruptly stills).

#11 - Name

There’s a coin in his hand telling him about a girl, and Barry has never heard the name Lup before, but his heart is carving out a space in his chest for it with every passing beat.

#12 - Sensual

It's the dumbest thing but there's just - there's something about her hair, the way she lifts it off her neck, twists it back off her face that drives him insane (he's pretty sure she knows it, too).

#13 - Death

His body hits the ground with an explosion of pain and gods, dying has never felt so much like relief.

#14 - Sex

His thumbs fit right into the divot over her hips, cradling her as she rises and falls against him.

#15 - Touch

It starts so absently, Lup wonders if he even notices; the small touches to her arm, gently placing his hand at the small of her back, letting his head drop against her shoulder when he’s too tired to hold it up anymore.

#16 - Weakness

She makes him vulnerable, sure, but he doesn’t consider that a bad thing.

#17 - Tears

If the first thing her body starts doing when she gets it back is cry, Lup doesn’t think she can be blamed

#18 - Speed

Her lich form twines around his and he feels her laughter as much as he hears it - “Come on, race me!”

#19 - Wind

He thinks he hears her sometimes, in those moments between bodies (he can’t decide if that’s better or worse)

#20 - Freedom

After a lifetime and more of moving around, Lup thinks that freedom might be finally settling in one place (preferably not as an umbrella, though).

#21 - Life

He’s dead, she’s dead, they’re both dead but Barry can finally hold her for the first time in over a decade and minor details like beating hearts are, frankly, unimportant.

#22 - Jealousy

Barry will admit to being insecure about a lot - about a lot of things, but Lup and the way she feels about him isn’t one of them.

#23 - Hands

He touches her with a reverence that borders on worship, but she’s his lover, not his god; she does the same, and makes sure he remembers it.

#24 - Taste

“You have morning breath,” she mumbles sleepily after that first night together, before rolling onto him and kissing him hello.

#25 - Devotion

Love Barry - Lup has been hoarding all of her energy and presence to help her brother, but she can’t help herself when it comes to this, him, to finally being able to feel after so long just struggling to survive.

#26 - Forever

Obviously the lich plan is largely about the practicalities but - but there’s maybe a part of Lup, a small tiny corner, that thinks about the differences in elf and human lifespans and is real fucking ecstatic when everything seems to work out.

#27 - Blood

“Hey, so, we killed that giant bug thing together so I’m pretty sure that makes us married now,” Lups says casually, covered in giant bug juice, and they haven’t even kissed yet, is she trying to murder him?

#28 - Sickness

It turns out that Barry is the only one who can convince Lup to actually lie down when she’s sweaty and fevery and honestly he’s kind of okay with that (she might be, too).

#29 - Melody

There are any number of things Lup could have clung to in those indeterminable years stuck in the umbrella, but the one thing that lingers in her heart above all others is their song.

#30 - Star

The view from the Starblaster’s windows is nothing to be scoffed at, but it’s improved a thousand fold by wrapping his arm around Lup’s waist and resting his head on her shoulder as they admire the universe.

#31 - Home

The concept shifts, narrows over the years, from their plane to their ship to - to her.

#32 - Confusion

Terror brings a clarity to his thoughts in the same way it clouds Taako’s, and he’s begging his friend to kill him before he forgets why he needs to die.

#33 - Fear

He doesn’t let himself think it (what if she--), because he won’t be able to keep going if he lets it take root.

#34 - Lightning/Thunder

Lup rains devastation on an arm of the Hunger, and okay, maybe it’s not enough yet but she’s powerful and beautiful and Barry is top full of belief.

#35 - Bonds

They make science out of emotion, and bending the known laws of magic might be exhilarating, but it’s fucking nothing compared to doing it with her.

#36 - Market

It’s some backwater farmer’s market on some backwater planet where they’ve already found the Light of Creation, and Lup drags from stall to stall, investigating different foods for their breakfast potential (both of them laughing, breathless).

#37 - Technology

“Hey, look, I dig the ghost thing on me, I really do, but if we don’t figure out a way to get me a body back so Barold and I can bone down, I’m gonna have some Issues.”

#38 - Gift

Long before any duets, or quiet realizations, or even any year long beach trips, Lup starts cooking him breakfast on his birthday (he's still not sure how she found out when it was).

#39 - Smile

There are a lot of things to love about Barry, and for Lup they're all bundled up in his stupid face, the way he ducks his head and lifts the corner of his mouth at her when he's pleased.

#40 - Innocence

They're complicit now in the destruction of a world in a way they've never been before, and even together there doesn't seem to be a way to face it.

#41 - Completion

They’re floating in the ruins of the moon base, surrounded by destruction and death (they’re dead, both of them), but it’s done, they’re done, they did it

#42 - Clouds

The day Lup gives him, his perfect day, is peace (they lie on their backs under the sky, hand in hand away from the others, murmuring softly to each other when they feel like it and luxuriate in being alone, and together).

#43 - Sky

The first time he flies the Starblaster they’re the only two left alive and Lup is too injured to assist and he’s half out of his mind with worry for her and the Hunger stretches open its maw, ready to take them in-- (and they survive, he saves them, and the first thing he feels upon regenerating is Lup throwing her arms around him)

#44 - Heaven

It comes up early in the lich planning, about what might happen to their souls in the long run (she kisses him, hard, whispers gods have no more right to us than anyone else and something in Barry shivers in agreement).

#45 - Hell

He is not the man he was before her, and the only thing that scares him about that is what he might become without her.

#46 - Sun

From the outside the know it might look like he revolves around her, but the truth is that they’re caught up in each other’s orbit, dancing through the universe together.

#47 - Moon

She’s fucking luminescent under a full moon, the light kissing her skin and caressing her face in a way that almost embarasses him with how poetic he gets.

#48 - Waves

“I thought you couldn’t swim!” she shouts over the sound of crashing waves, but her eyes are sparkling and her grin is wide as she holds out her hands, pulls him further out into the water.

#49 - Hair

She cracks jokes about getting her physical form back, but the first thing she does when they’re alone his cling to Barry, her hands tangled in his hair and face pressed into his shoulder (he holds her until she stops trembling, and then for a while longer).

#50 - Supernova

Phantasmal and resplendent, gods, they’re a sight to be seen as they rip through the thing that tore their family apart, that took them from each other (they could die in this moment having come together again, but they won’t).