#recede that man’s hairline and give him wrinkles or die

[the-eldritch-it-gay]

people will say they’re all about sexualizing that old man but then unrecede his hairline and thicken his hair and smooth and tighten his skin. cowards.

[anyoneseenadam]

The Moon Spirit - two

Dorian x reader, Fenrys x reader (throne of glass)

Description: When you’re taught to be a queen from such a young age, nothing could go wrong. But when the king starts to fear your growing power you find yourself thrust into a world of faeries, evil magic and powerful men, learning to stand on your own can be harder than it seems.

warnings: blood, graphic descriptions of violence, objectification, gross old men, Dorian is a ball of love and niceness however, angst, fluff, possibly smut in later chapters

word count: 2.9k 

a/n: oof the plans i have for this series omg!! i hope you like this pls comment and tell me what u think and also feel free to give any ideas/ theories i love getting that sm!! ❤️‍🔥❤️‍🔥

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Finding a place to get a drink was easier said than done.

You had ridden along the cold, barren road for hours – your only company being the birds singing above you, the horse moving below you and the small bundle of content wrapped in your arms who had fallen asleep in your arms in seconds, occasionally yawning widely. And through those hours you had met no one and seen no place to stop.

You eventually had to stop, exhaustion slowing you down. You moved off course and tied your horse to a tree next to a small stream, running a comforting hand through its mane as it drank slowly. You slowly stripped off as well, taking your time as you removed the blood-soaked layers from your skin. Once you were bare, shivering in the cool morning air, you stepped slowly into the stream – swearing enough to make a sailor blush.

However, you relented, running your hands over your skin, wiping away the guards’ blood with a heavy heart as the water turned pink. Your whole body ached, yet you were numb. Men were dead because of you, and - if he hadn’t already – Dorian would hear of your disappearance soon. And then the king would pick him a new bride, and you would be forgotten.

Just as intended.

Amaris was mewling behind you, hungry and cold, wondering why you had left. Or maybe that was just you, maybe you were projecting. You climbed out of the water, pulling your undergarments back on as you found a sunny patch to sit in, allowing the newly risen sun to cleanse away the remnants of the night, drying your skin slowly.

After half an hour of silent tears you picked yourself back up, pulling on your stiff clothes and climbing onto your horse as you set off again. You couldn’t just lie down and die, no matter how much you wanted to, you had to look after your last gift from Dorian, and you had look after yourself.

--

You ended up riding for hours more before you wandered into a small town. Dismounting, you led your horse through the town as you searched for a place to get food and maybe clean clothes, glaring down your nose at anyone who stared to long. Much like Dorian used to.

No. You tried to expel the thought of him from your head, not needing to be swept up in the thought of his forget-me-not eyes, nor did you need to remember that you may never get to look into them again.

What you needed was the tavern you could see at the end of the street.

You pushed through the street, ignoring the townspeople as you moved to the stables beside the tavern, giving your horse rest, food, and water. You hid Amaris in your coat as you moved into the tavern – back straight and head high as you walked.

The bar quietened down when you moved in, a small sprout woman pausing handing out drinks as she stared at you over a high skew nose. The bar smelt of sour whisky and piss, the surfaces barely visible beneath the dirt that covered every surface – the only source of light coming from tall candles that had been stuffed into wine bottles. The curtains over the windows were drawn tight, not allowing any other light in and the people in the bar all looked remarkably similar, tired. The woman behind the bar was petite, with a face alike a weasel and when she spoke you discovered her voice was just as shrill as you expected.

“And who do you think you are?” she moved in front of the bar, walking towards you as you levelled your gaze.

“I’m no one.” You replied, the answer vague enough that she hopefully wouldn’t try again.

“Then what do you want?” she was exasperated as she spoke, and you allowed yourself a moment of reprise as you glanced down at your clothes.

“A drink would be nice,” your voice was curt, tired. The small lady rolled her eyes, moving away as you approached the bar, allowing her to pour you a glass of cheap, hard liquor.

She slid it towards you, and you knocked it back quickly. “Do you also have fresh clothes and maybe some food for me and my cat?”

As she left with an eye roll, a man approached you, his hairline receding and breath fowl as he slung an arm around your shoulder, leaning far too close for your comfort as you trained your eyes forward.

“I can offer you a job,” he nodded his head and you looked over to see his eyes trained on the prostitutes in the corner, “I’ll even offer a free trial. To get you started.”

You felt panic rise like bile in your throat, your entire body tensing as you shoved this man’s arm of your shoulder. You calmed your face – unwilling to let any emotion show as you faced him.

“You couldn’t afford me,” you snarled, pushing down the heat growing in you as the curious eyes of the towns’ folk were once again turned on you.

“You bitch!” the man began shouting but was cut off by the shrill woman’s return. She unceremoniously dumped a pile of clothes in your lap, along with a small loaf and some fish, her gaze expectant.

You loosened the bracelet around your wrist, dropping it into her hand as she stared at the large jewels adorning it.

“That should cover it.” you muttered as you stood, keeping your gaze angry and forward as you shouldered past the burly man. You bundled the clothing and food in one hand, the other still holding Amaris tight to your chest as you left the dirty tavern.

You found your horse again, offloading the goods you had received into the worn satchels on its side – leading it out of the barn slowly, desperate to get out of this town.

--

Dorian was a mess.

He couldn’t sleep, couldn’t eat, could barely speak anymore. It was enough to lose you, but to then realise that his own father had driven you away. His own father had made you feel so unsafe in your own home that you couldn’t even run to him, his father had made you feel so completely isolated that your only choice was to flee.

Chaol was trying to coax him back into civilised life, his brother mourning the loss of his friend, yet itching to find you. And level-headed as always, Chaol knew that wouldn’t happen with Dorian spending his days drinking or in bed – often both.

But Dorian didn’t know how to cope, he didn’t know how to plaster on a smile and pretend everything was okay. That was your specialty.

Almost a month had passed, and you certainly were nowhere to be seen. You weren’t coming home anytime soon and he was going to have to learn how to live without you eventually.

Every morning he woke up, a part of him hoped it was a bad dream, that you would be asleep in his arms, or giggling and pressing dizzying kisses into his jaw. He hoped one day he would just wake up and you would wrap your arms tight around his shoulders, tell him it was just a nightmare and stroke his hair until he fell back asleep.

But he knew that couldn’t happen, that life wasn’t kind enough to return his bride to him and so instead he chose to numb his thoughts. He ignored the flirty eyes of other woman, unable to look at them in their expensive dresses and jewels without his mind returning to you.

Everyday that passed without you hurt that much more, so when he sat on his throne as Chaol approached him with a beautiful but deadly woman, he decided since he couldn’t have his perfect woman, he must find her opposite. He couldn’t be who he was before – so he must become someone new.

--

You weren’t faring much better. The day you had left the bar, you had ridden all the way to the coast of Terrasan and had climbed onto the first boat to Doranelle. By the time you arrived in the city you had just about sold anything of value on your person and all you had left to sell was the poor horse you had taken away.

By the time it was just you and Amaris, you had acquired a small flat in the city – the walls were bare and there was only simple furniture in it, the mattress on the floor next to large windows, and worn cushions on a makeshift sofa next to a wooden table.

Every night Amaris crawled into bed next to you, licking away salty tears from your face as you pulled the thin, scratchy sheet closer over you – hoping to replicate even a shred of Dorian’s warmth, or the feeling of his arms wrapped secure around your waist. Most nights you didn’t sleep, the bags growing under your eyes as your heart slowly numbed. Amaris would bury himself in the warmth of your chest as your eyes blurred, watching the city move outside of your flat – the noise subdued and calming.

On the third day in the new city you set out to find work, desperate to find something that could numb the thoughts in your mind and make the days easier. Plus you were sick of grabbing the easiest food you could find. You found yourself walking to a library, deciding it would be the perfect mixture of solitude and work for you. And it helped that you had spent most your life reading, many nights curled under Dorians arms as you read your separate books – occasionally reciting a line to the other.

The old man at the front of the library was kind, his face wrinkled from easy smiles, and you could understand why his long, long life seemed so pleasing. The bookshelves were tall, dizzyingly tall, and filled with countless books that you wished you could search through for hours. There were also tall, stained windows lining the walls, letting in the beautiful morning light and showing how the dust danced around the room.

“So what brings you here?” he asked, moving around the desk he sat at and motioning for you to take a seat on the small, cushioned seats next to him.

You sat down gently, back straight but keeping your eyes trained on your neatly folded hands. “I need work, sir. I have very good qualifications and have been educated by the best.”

He laughed slightly at that, “That much is clear, my child. But I asked what brings you here? What is your story?”

You looked up to meet his eyes, unable to stop the pain that they revealed, and he took your hands gently in his warm ones, “The world has treated you poorly I see.”

You felt tears build in your eyes – this kindness so alien to your battered heart you couldn’t help yourself as you let out a soft sob. The man smiled kindly at you, squeezing your hands gently as he urged you to talk to him.

“I was f-forced to leave the man I loved,” you choked out, “his father tried to… hurt me.” Your explanation was an over-simplification, but you feared what may occur if you revealed the truth.

“Was he your mate?” the man asked kindly, and you shook your head.

“I am not Fae,” you explained, and he frowned, passing you his handkerchief as he stood.

“Are you sure about that?” he asked, retrieving a small, hand-held mirror, and handing it to you. You took it with a confused expression before looking in, gasping under your breath as you saw your ears had taken on a delicate point.

“I, I don’t- that’s not possible.” You shook your head, eyes wide as they met his.

“Where do you come from child?” he voice was gentle as he took in your shock.

“Adarlan.” You whispered and he smiled sympathetically.

“Then I believe a glamour has been removed recently.” You could feel yourself shaking, the weight of the knowledge hitting you. “Let me take a name dear, you can start work tomorrow, we’ve been needing some extra hands around here.”

“(y/n) (y/l/n)” your voice was small as you stood, shaking his hand lightly. “Thank you so much.”

“It’s no problem and remember when you work you can have a read through any book you like. Aisle sixteen contains many on the ancient spirits.” He looked down to your necklace pointedly and you bit your tongue so hard you tasted blood, desperate to not reveal any more than you already had.

“Thank you…” you trailed off and he smiled,

“Albert,” he finished for you. “And make sure to take care on your way home, this city is filled with powerful people, you would be smart to not mix with them.”

You nodded, pocketing the information in your mind, ready to add it to your list of rules.

--

Fenrys was tired. He had just gotten home from a month-long mission and all he wanted was to sleep, however he wasn’t quite ready to face Maeve yet and instead he decided to take a trip to his favourite library before she realised he was back.

He was walking in when he saw you, your eyes red but hopeful and he almost fell over at the sight of you. You were wearing common clothes but held yourself like royalty, head high and gaze ready to tear down a man who so much as looked at you wrong.

What he did next he wasn’t exactly proud of, but he needed an excuse, so he was willing to play his hand a bit. “Excuse me miss, do you happen to know where I could find the tilted goose?” your eyes widened when you saw him, fuelling his ego slightly.

He knew where the tilted goose was of course, it was one of his favourite bars, but you didn’t have to know that.

“Oh yeah, it’s just down this way. I’m walking that way I’ll show you,” your voice was like music to his ears, and he smiled, revelling in how you avoided his gaze, clearly intimidated by his stature.

“Thank you so much…?” he asked, and you smiled, softly, subdued.

“(y/n),” you stared walking in the correct direction, and he grinned.

“Beautiful name for a beautiful lady. Fenrys.” He placed a hand to his chest as you laughed lightly.

“Quite a flirt aren’t you?” you asked, eyes sparkling.

“Can’t help myself, I’m not sure I’ve ever met such a beautiful woman.” He looked down to you as he fell into step beside you, noticing that you were taking a much longer way than needed. “You new here?”

“How’d you tell?” your tone was self-deprecating, and he laughed.

“This way takes about five minutes longer.” He stated and you whirled around, pointing a finger accusingly.

“You know how to get there.” He felt his face heat up as he raised his hands sheepishly.

“Maybe…” he grinned, and you scoffed, rolling your eyes as you began to storm off.

“See you around princess!” he called after you, almost missing the way your shoulders stiffened momentarily before you called over your shoulder.

“You’d be so lucky!” you replied, pace quickening as he watched you climb a set of stars that led to some run-down apartments.

He laughed, the smiled on his face coming naturally and surprising him. Oh his life was about to get much better.

--

You shouldn’t have enjoyed the pretty man’s company. And you hated yourself for it.

But he was so kind and for five minutes he made you feel normal again, loved again. See you around princess! The words wouldn’t stop replaying in you head. You weren’t allowed to be a normal girl; you were a princess, and you were on the run, and you definitely had no time for handsome men who flirted with you.

You couldn’t betray Dorian like that, he was probably waiting for you to come home. And you planned to. You would build your strength and you would learn to fight, and you would tear the king to shreds.

But for now, you had to settle for getting through each day, and that meant you had no time for handsome distractions. As you steeled your nerves you felt the loneliness settle on your shoulders, wrapping around you like a shadow, and you fought to reach deep inside yourself, finding the sliver of magic that was curled up – dormant – inside of you.

You found it and fought to awaken it, only receiving a shard of the true power. You stood in front of the dirty mirror in your bathroom, taking in your newly pointed ears and watching as your necklace glowed gently, your eyes turning silver as you released a small amount magic, watching as the bright light shattered the mirror in front of you.

Your eyes widened at the loud noise and with a flinch the magic was gone, the only proof it was even there was the shattered mirror in front of you.

You stared back at the cracked reflection and squared your shoulders. You were going to train, you were going to fight, and you were going to win. Even if it broke you.

[mysmedrabbles]

RFA + V as Senior Citizens

requested: by anonymous

a/n: this is?? a super cute ask?? totally seems like the sequel to an old MC lmao

warnings: n/a

-young mod alex

Jumin

-distinguished gentleman through and through

-he’s the type of man that ages gracefully, i hc him to look kind of like eugenes dad (for anyone who watches the try guys)

-he’s faithful to his spouse until the day he dies, and provides the best care for his children, especially supporting them no matter what their passions are

-even though physically the age still has taken a toll on him, the crows feet and laugh lines only prove that he’s led a good life

-he doesn’t believe in “old people activities”

-would rather die than play bingo, he does however enjoy the odd game of mahjong, and even the occasional board game, but only when he’s playing with his kids (however he’s ruthless and doesn’t go easy on them)

-he teaches the kids how to play chess

-his sense of fashion never changes, always sporting a crisp suit and his classic striped dress shirt

-he starts collecting italian shoes as a hobby once he reaches 60, and he’s never been so proud of a collection

-resigns as CEO and passes on the company not to his children, but to the most qualified prospect, changing his ideas on nepotism, now wholeheartedly believing in hard work and working your way up

-you can see the change in him post marrying you, as more and more magazines claim he’s gone “soft” in his old age, but in reality he doesn’t fear the public eye and although sometimes he struggles with emotional blocks, with you by his side he can handle anything

Jaehee

-she’s the anime grandma that chases the troublemakin’ young’uns out of her shop with a broom

-very wholesome old lady, she never gives up her cafe, and although Jumin offers to help her expand her business, she refuses, insisting that she wants it to be family owned

-she teaches your guys’ kids and grandkids how to bake, and at first she seems like she has no patience, trying to discipline them, but you catch her smiling at your first grandchild, a 3 year old boy who's hands are covered with flour as he claps vigorously, childish wonder as flour poofs in a magical cloud

-she always continues to love and support zens work and shows, but her interests start to move on once she reaches her late forties

-she had to stop drinking coffee because her blood pressure got dangerously high, so she moves on to drinking tea

-having a little garden in your backyard where the two of you grow different flowers and herbs to make and experiment with new tea leaves

-she’s sweet, but also retains her businesslike formality and becomes a respected member of the World for Women Entrepreneurs Organization, which she puts down as the first members of the RFA party every year

-cute old lesbian couple, going to every pride parade together and holding hands on the street because, even though she may have aged, her judo skills haven't

Yoosung

-sweet old man, the kind that will be there for every single family reunion, holiday, birthday and will spoil the kids rotten

-he buys a rocking chair to put on the porch, first ironically but he’s quick to change his mind, buying another one in order for the two of you to sit outside together, watching from the porch as your kids play in the yard

-he never loses his passion for cooking, and all the neighborhood kids, even if they aren't your own, line up for Grandpa Kims cooking

-the two of you essentially adopt the whole street of kids

-he stops dying his hair blonde, letting the brown grow back in

-he loves telling the story of how the two of you met, to the point where your kids will groan whenever he starts talking

-never really stops playing video games, and of course teaches all your guys’ kids how to play, however he gets extremely disappointed when your youngest chooses books over games (in a joking way)

-he’s the kind elder that might never really have “wisdom” but he’ll always make you feel better if you have a problem

-by the time the two of you reach 70, your house has become a place for stray animals and kids, not wanting anyone to feel the loneliness that he had when he was younger

Seven

-he never really gets past his trauma, although living with it becomes easier

-saeyoung never loses his childish sense of humor and happiness, making his the strangest elder on the block

-he’s the one all the kids want to have ice cream with

-he retires fairly early compared to the rest, saying that he needed time to focus on his family and on his life for once

-he ages well, but makes the biggest deal out of it when his hairline starts receding

-because of stress, his hair starts greying early, and he refuses to leave the bunker for a week straight, you having to coax his dramatic ass out by hiding all the HBC

-has crippling back pain and has to start using a cane by his mid forties. of course, everyone in the rya makes fun of him for it, but he just waves it threateningly at yoosung, laughing along

-takes daily walks with you to the park, over the lake and bridge, around the cherry blossom tree and back home

-he strives to be there for his children and grandchildren, loving and supporting them in a way his parents never did

-continues to play pranks and crack jokes throughout his life

-every wedding anniversary he decorates the bunker like a space station and you dance to every frank sinatra song ever recorded

-on your 60th wedding anniversary you take him to KARI (Korean Aerospace Research Institute) to look around, inspect the models, check calculations and try the zero gravity machine, and he cries

Zen

-does this man age? not necessarily

-he never stops acting, continuing to rise as televisions most popular actor, but in the end he moves back to theatre, where his passion truly lies

-you quit as his manager at some point to go follow your dreams, and he lets you know that he’s with you every step of the way no matter what

-he doesn’t become more humble as he ages, and can often be seen telling his kids about his amazing adventures from when he was younger

-his laugh lines do get incredibly deep, which he struggles with for a while until you finally step up and tell him that all it means is that he lived well, that he had a good time on this godforsaken planet and that he had a few good laughs

-the energy is broken when you poke your finger in his laugh line, giggling to yourself

-he loosens up on the strict diet, letting himself eat more sweets and fatty foods, but his stance on exercising stays the same

-the storyteller of the family, always calling the grandkids out to the backyard to tell them incredible stories of monsters and knights in shining armor and the beautiful princess

-domesticity out the roof

-doesn’t actually officially retire, but leaves the industry while he’s ahead, getting to enjoy his last few decades surrounded by a family he chose to make

-surprisingly he takes up crochet, likes the meticulous design and patience needed for it, even though he has none, its a good way to teach himself to be more patient

-refuses a cane and or walker his whole life and would “never be caught dead in one”

-at some point he lets his hair grow out all the way, not leaving the rat tail, rather just having long hair

-because of his good genes and extreme self care, he doesn’t lose much of his hair, to which he is grateful to. those wrinkles though....

V

- V, starts losing his sight because of age: ah shit here we go again

-he’s kind, the type of senior that will always help someone out, and picks up trash off of the ground

-volunteers at the local garden, helping with the sunflowers in particular

-never stops painting, insisting that he must paint you and any possible children at every stage of yours and their lives

-the trauma of Rikas abuse left him scarred, but he copes with it, going to therapy until the day he eventually dies

-cute old married couple number two, its impossible to go anywhere without hearing “V and his spouse,” the two of you are a package deal, his life would never have been the same without you, and you would never want to be anywhere else except besides him

-as similar of age as you guys may be to the RFA, the two of you absolutely adopt them, and as all your families expand, V makes it his mission to invite everyone Jumin and his spouse, Jaehee with hers etc etc and their respective children and children spouses,, grandchildren,,,

-he doesn’t talk about his past much, but is always willing to listen to the younguns problems and impart his knowledge

-the older he gets, the more sweaters he owns. is also partial to wearing suspenders over said sweaters

-he begins to fall in love with the environment the older he gets, ultimately starting multiple foundations to save the bees, oceans and various endangered species

-becomes a UN ambassador for a good few years, but resigns due to wanting to get back to his family and passions

-after marrying you he becomes quite content with his life, and he doesnt majorly change in any way

[theaetherhealerffxiv]

Redemption p4

Chapters Master Post

Ao3 link

—-

Rating: PG17 for safety

Parings: Wol x Emet-Selch

Summary:

Its over, the winner gets to write the next chapter of the story. So why, pray tell, wont the Warrior of Light let him die?

Chapter Summary:

Awaking back in the Crystarium Hades finds himself bed ridden and at the mercy of the Warrior of Light. 

Word count: 5918

The air around him was scorching, the blistering heat upon his skin caused a flush to gently spread across his cheeks, which remained hidden under his mask. His mask was red like the scene before him; falling stars came at high speeds from the sky and pelted the ground with such force that it destroyed whole buildings. In the place of stone, flames licked the very ground melting the various architecture around it; the vegetation so lovingly planted went up like a parched valley of grass during a lightning storm. Then there was the monsters, born from the fear of the people roamed the streets as well, preying on the fallen members of society that could not outrun their fears. On top of the destruction the screams of terror and the littering of his fellows bodies accented the piece like a grim painting. Yet, Hades stood above it all in an ivory tower relatively unscaithed by the termination. He was displaced from the chaos that he desperately wished to quench. At the moment he could turn upon his heel and gather with his fellows, to begin the summoning and attempt to rewrite the laws of their precious star. 

Yet he at the same time did not want to be apart of it. Instead Hades wanted to be down among the dead and dying to search for his beloved and his most trusted friend. To wrap her up in his arms and protect her from the beasts and destruction. Clenching his fist he took in a shaking breath, what was the nature of a plan that consisted of giving the planet a will? It was abstract at best - of course he believed it was their best attempt at saving their home, but gazing upon the destruction he could not help but feel that it futile. Hades would rather throw it all away to hold her again; what if she died? What if their magicks succeeded but she died? Could he live with himself if he lost the one that was most precious to him?  As he pondered his greatest fears a meteor fell dangerously close to his perch, throwing dirt and scorch marks upon his mask and black robe. 

He could leave - he could leave right at that moment. He could forsake the convocation and go to her side. Surely they could summon this will without him; each where powerful in their own right. Hades lifted his head, deciding he would not participate, he would sneak out while they conversed in the room beyond the one he hid away in.

“Ah, this was where you were hiding Emet-selch.” Hades felt shock course through his body like a sickness as he heard his title come from behind him, the voice which spoke it was rough and irritated. He had been spotted, he could no longer flee. Quickly masking as much anger as he could Hades turned to gaze at Lahabrea, whose exposed mouth was turned downward into a harsh grimace that bore wrinkles into the sides of his lips. “Pray tell, why are you out here? We need you for the summoning.” 

Feeling his brows bunch together in a deep frown Hades returned to look out at the carnage. He could push past Lahabrea, run outside, look for her. Hades reached into the pocket of his robe, in it a small pouch with a wristband made of his aether. He had been fully prepared to propose to her tomorrow.  He did not care enough currently to summon this great being. Hades understood that it was the best bet for the survival of their people, but he just did not care. He could not muster enough emotion to care about it. Instead his entire being was focused on the bloody painting before him. His lips parting as he breathed out her name, a prayer to the Underworld to not call her soul to rest. Clutching the band his gaze was captured by the destruction. A hand suddenly was slapped against his shoulder with such force Hades turned his head to glare with as much venom as he could muster to the person he knew was behind him. 

“Emet-Selch,” Now Lahabrea’s voice was low and deadly. Hades leered at him as he continued, his hand digging further into the golden eyed man’s robes. “There is little time for you to be staring at the destruction before you, I care not of your reasons to be doing such an act but we need you to hurry and come so that we can - “

Hades's eyes narrowed, a smirk of pure rage twitching at the sides of his lips. He did not care, he wanted to be with his precious people. “Save the star, write the laws anew.” Hades recited the lines without passion. How many times had he heard them? He had believed in them up until this very moment when faced with the destruction that the termination had wrought upon their home. Shrugging off Lahabrea’s hand he bowed his head, knowing he was caught between a rock and wall. He was a trapped animal; if he forsook his comrades and they succeeded, they would do everything in their power to alienate him. Hades knew if this was the case he would not be able to propose to her, or even show his face in the streets of Amaurot. Shutting his eyes he took a step forward, away from his peer. If they did not succeed, he would have abandoned his love in her time of need. Which was the better punishment? Saving the world and possibly sacrificing the only thing he truly lived for, or forsaking his future if the convocation was successful? Biting the inside of his cheek he struggled with his thoughts; he believed in the plan, even with the dread growing in the pit of his belly. It was illogical, but possible. In his mind, he could see her smiling and telling him to go, succeed, save their home. 

To come back home to her arms. 

His hand was still in his pocket and he clutched the bag one last time before walking forward with purpose to the room in which the convocation stood whispering to one another. Hades knew Lahabrea was behind him and he chose to ignore it as he took his place in the circle. Once settled into his place Hades took stock of the atmosphere and surroundings. It was the same as always - a tall dark room with chairs that had been pushed back against the wall. The table had been moved as well and in its place a crystal had been placed. Frowning at it Hades turned to look at Elidibus, who smiled at him. It was not a warm smile, or one that created an illusion of understanding and sympathy. It was cold and judging, Elidibus knew Hades was struggling and was judging his actions. Glaring at the white robed man Hades turned away, he would not be judged by the likes of that man. 

Reaching up Hades adjusted his mask absentmindedly. Realizing he still felt the heat from the window - in fact he was burning up, sweat dripping from the corners of his hairline. Taking a steadying breath Hades attempted to quell the heat, knowing it was likely futile. 

“As our final two members grace our presence, we can now properly begin the incantation.” Elidibus’ voice caused Hades to look back up, the man had his arms outstretched that same smile spread across his face. “I pray that you, my peers, will focus your various magicks upon me. I shall become the conduit for those who have chosen to give their lives for this as well. I shall set the spell in motion so that we may create a being that embodies our planets will.” Leaning his head back Elidibus took in a deep breath, and if it was possible to spread his arms out further. The various souls that had been floating around the room spilled into the man. Hades grimace; the creation power that those souls held was emmese. Could Elidibus truly contain such a power? “Come! We shall write this terrible wrong and save our people!” The white robed man tilted his head back down and smiled, indicating that the rest of those present copied his movements. 

Hades lifted his hands to mimic Elidibus’, but as he did so he felt a sting, as if something was sinking its claws deep into his flesh. It was not in one place of his body either, it happened several times over his entire form. He frowned, this was unusual for creation magic - it could drain you but it rarely caused such physical sensations. Regardless, Hades closed his eyes to briefly think of his loved ones, of Hythlodaeus who surely would ask how this went on the morrow, and of her. Of how he would propose to her, place the band upon her wrist and kiss her. Then, Hades released the thoughts before they were pulled into the spell causing it to be altered. Opening his eyes he allowed himself to be swept up with thoughts of creating a will for the planet. He focused all of these thoughts upon Elidibus, along with his magics, channeling all that he had to the white robed man to use freely. 

Everything happened quickly, there was a great overflow of magic that came from Elidibus and spread warping the very room itself and obscuring Hades vision as it encased him in a cocoon of darkness. It confused and drew Hades’ curiosity as it spiraled around his arms like vines drawing taunt enough to shape out various body parts from his cloak. Then, the vines changed they grew heavy and became chain-like. Hades jerked back in shock, trying to pull away from the magics but finding himself rooted firmly to his spot. The darkness began to recede and the golden eyed man noticed that the other members of the convocation had similar chains around them. Throwing his gaze towards Elidibus, who had the most chains out of all of them, smiling wickedly in a triumphant fashion. Shaking his head Hades followed the other man's gaze towards the middle of their circle, to where the crystal had been. There, purple crystals had grown out and around a figure that had not been standing there before. Relaxing his hands to his sides because of the weight of the aetheric chains Hades felt his stomach drop. 

They had succeeded, but something was off. The creation was dark, a shadow robed in aether, it had the aura of peace and purpose but something felt twisted. Within its hands it held the other end of the chains that had captured the convocation members. It lifted its head and carefully looked around the room, before straightening its back.  Hades felt its voice before he heard it, like something deep in his chest moving and worming its way into the core of his being, changing him. Lifting a hand to his chest he frowned, a thought of doubt drifting across his mind before suddenly it was gone. All doubt about the being before him was gone.

Then, it spoke physically. Its voice booming around the room.

“I am Zodiark.”  It said. “I shall save those who live upon me.”

----

Hades awoke with a start, his eyes flying open and with a gasp he clutched at the blankets that covered him as a hot pain laced through his chest, as if it were attempting chasing away something. His face scrunched into a tight grimace as he attempted to catch his breath.  Only for a coughing seizure to tear through his chest as the pain subsided, raising a hand he grasped at his breast. Hades eyes darting around the darkened room, where was he? After his coughing subsided the man cast his mind back to the last thing he remembered - that he had been holding onto Swath as they flew towards the Crystarium. Once they had reached a cruising altitude his memory abruptly failed him and faded to an unfamiliar darkness. As realization of what had happened dawned upon him, he cursed low under his breath. Of course his foul luck would lead him to passing out against the hero. Struggling with an unfamiliar and weak body, Hades managed to prop himself up on his elbows. In the dim light see that his chest had been expertly bandaged, while clearly already blooming with his bodily fluids. He could see that it was done by the hands of an expert. Had his hero been the one to do such? Was she capable of such ministrations? Taking a deep breath he decided to ask her when she came into the room, then moved his attention away from his thoughts to the room around him.

Turning his head he saw a basin resting on the side table, with a dirty cloth stained with blue aether and blood similar to the colors that stained his chest, but duller. Curious now, Hades shifted to lean on one arm as he lifted his other to find it too had various small bandages covering the cuts that had dotted his skin. Raising his eyebrows and taking a second to marvel at the craftsmanship he exhaled sharply, leaning to lay upon his back once more. Then, with his raised hand he reached up to press the palm to his forehead. Feeling a lump begin to grow within the pit of his stomach, Hades was frustrated, mostly at himself. He had passed out while they had flown to their next destination. He could only imagine the trouble he had caused Swath; he was clearly in her room. While he had not watched her as she had rested, but he had allowed himself time to become familiar with the various objects that decorated her abode. As he gazed at the room another frown graced his features. Why was he so concerned with causing trouble to her? She wanted to use him to live, was this not what she wanted? His hand tightened his fingers gripping his disheveled hair pulling it taunt. Using each other, that was the deal right? Then why did it make his heart heavy when he thought of her face, strained and exhausted? 

An unbidden frustrated moan slipped from his lips. 

Hades was a fool, he realized this with sudden clarity. His heart was heavy because he cared, he cared about her emotions, cared about her. He had hours ago felt his heart begin to fall for the Viera, why was he denying it now? Why was he trying to cling to his nonchalant temperament that he had while he was tempered? 

No, his personality had not even been that, it had been disconnected from the world around him. He had been but a ghostly participant. Now he had been thrust back into the realm of the living and he was feeling things he no longer understood. Letting out a groan he tore his hand away from him and let it drop to his side. Realizing this made him think about the emotions he had felt looking at Eulmore, was it regret? Had he felt regret because his actions? And what about when he was trying to be useful to Swath by opening that portal? Had it been determination? 

Shutting his eyes for a moment he attempted to sort through the various emotions that swirled in his breast. It was overwhelming, and while he should sort through them and rediscover himself it was not the appropriate time to be dealing with his new found freedom. Shifting he opened his eyes and sighed. It was useless to try to conjure these feelings in a futile attempt to understand. His mind was still a swirling mess but, as usual he had to attempt to set aside these thoughts and focus on other more pressing matters. Swath could still come back at any moment and she did not need to deal with a bed ridden Ascian that was attempting to recall exactly what certain emotions felt like. That was not a disaster that she needed to help him sort through, and the Ascian had a feeling that if he allowed himself to wallow in these thoughts she would.

 Instead he gazed around the room with a frustrated and strained smile on his lips. As he released those twisting thoughts and allowed his mind to drift back to the dream he had right before waking up. In an attempt of a distraction for his wandering mind.

As Hades recalled the various parts of the dream he realized that, no, it had not been a dream. He now frowned, his brow furrowing deeply; it had been a memory of the destruction of Amaurot and the creation of Zodiark. Hades had not been plagued by that dream since Elidibus had awoken him. The memory had once been fuel that had stoked the fire within his chest, but now it only caused a knot of indescribable emotion to form in the pit of his belly. It twisted violently and uncomfortably as he thought about the chains of the primal, chains he had honestly forgotten about initially. Until Swath had destroyed them. Had it been because Zodiark was truly a primal? With the ability to alter one's will?  Sighing Hades pushed the unpleasant thoughts away to the best of his ability, he knew once again it was not the best time to be wallowing in the various tragedies and mistakes of his past, nor the possibilities of what Zodiark was. Those thoughts were for another time. Laying back upon the pillow he groaned as pain shot through his breast, taking in a breath he shut his eyes only for a moment before he heard the door at the foot of the bed open.

“Thank yah, I’m fine though, please continue the celebration without me!” Swaths voice was strained with false excitement, clearly intent on getting whomever was bothering her to leave her alone. Hades shifted as she spoke, leaning on his elbows again as he caught a glimpse of her white hair and ears through the divider. The rest of her was obscured by the wood design and the darkness of the room. He frowned, as her ears folded back, clearly the individual was trying to coerce her to return to the festivities. “Nay,” She said again her voice now low. “I’h must check on mah guest, did yeh forget that he is unwell?” There was a low apology and then a sigh from the Viera. “Aye, I’h know, thank yah again. Please go enjoy tha party.” With that she closed the door and let go of a breath that Hades had not realized she had been holding in. 

From his place on the bed he watched as she pressed her forehead against the door, her shoulders drooping. Raising his eyebrows he tilted his head a little, his hair falling in the way of his view. After a moment of watching her Hades cleared his throat. “Attempting to escape the festivities held in your honor hero?” He watched with a twang of joy as he saw her ears straighten and a smile spread across her weary face as she turned to gaze at him through the divider. 

“Yah are awake,” She moved with surprising swiftness as she hurried to his side. Hades’ golden eyes followed her as the feeling of joy spreading from his belly to the rest of his body warming him. His brows turned down into a gentle expression as she reached the side of the bed and collapsed to her knees. “How are yah feelin?” Swaths hand reached out and pressed against his forehead, and momentarily he shut his eyes reveling in the feeling of her touch. He was growing accustomed to it, and honestly beginning to crave it. She rested her hand there for only a moment before shifting and gently thumbing over his third eye, another more familiar sensation jolted through Hades as he struggled to stay on one arm as he lifted his right hand to seize her hand in an attempt to make her stop her movements.

As he gently moved her hand away from his third eye he smiled his signature lopsided smile at her. “I am doing much better thanks to the many ministrations you performed upon me.” He nodded towards the soiled bowl. Moving her hand away from his grasp she gingerly pressed down on various parts of his chest. 

“Aye, was nothin really,” There was a blush on her cheeks which once again caused that sensation to run through him like lightning. It was also accompanied by several familiar emotions, but he was truly only able to partially understand them. He felt joy, he felt his heart leap towards her; falling for her , although the sensation was different than what he remembered. Hades moved his arm back in position so that both supported him, as he continued to watch her frown down at the blooming blue that appeared after her hand left a certain area of his chest. It did not hurt him beyond a small sting, but as she lifted her hand away she reached behind her and grabbed the rag. “Yah are still leakin aether.” She sighed and shifted so that she was looking at him. The rag poised in her hands expectantly, her hands hovering over his chest waiting. 

Hades sighed, and laid back on the back letting his arms stretch out in mock defeat. “Yes, go ahead Swath, do what you need to do.” With that she quickly set about unwrapping his chest, it was a little awkward at the angle he was at but every time he attempted to move and help her a firm hand pressed him back into the bed. He was growing increasingly amused by her actions, as he watched her he could feel the stinging with each strip of bandage removed. So in an attempt to distract himself from the incoming pain Hades focused on the face of the Warrior of Light; her brow furrowed in concentration she seemed oblivious to the world around her. He knew that was a farce though. Any slight movement done by his form would immediately be silenced by a firm hand. Swaths hair was tied back at the moment as she worked over him, it had been so when she came into the room as well. Her one golden eye darted around as she finished unwrapping the bandages. 

Hades shifted a little and Swath allowed him to do so, before placing a hand on his shoulder once more looking at him seriously. “This is gunna hurt.” 

He opened his mouth to protest but she did not wait, grabbing the damp cloth she opened it and laid it down over the faintly glowing wound on his chest. Hades frowned, she lied, it had not hurt. It stung a little that was for sure - his thoughts were cut short as he watched her hand, seemingly mimic the soft aura of his chest, press down on the towel. 

Then pain burned through him like a wildfire. It started from her hand which splayed stiffly against his stomach and then simultaneously went to his toes and his head. Everything hurt, it reminded him of her trying to pull his soul back from the afterlife. Hades felt his hands tense up in the sheets and through the pain realized that Swath was holding onto one of his hands - the one closest to her. As quickly as the fire started it was staunched as her hand was lifted away from his body. Gasping Hades fell limp upon the bed, gulping the cool air like a lifeline. 

“Pray tell hero, was that necessary?” He leered at her his voice exceptionally weak, but her response to him was just a shrug. Which caused him to continue glaring at her weary eye. 

“Aye, twas. I’h need tah infuse yah with aether till yah stabilize.” Her face told him she wished to say more, to say that if she did not he would die. Rolling his eyes he looked toward the ceiling and heaved a long sigh which caused his body to radiate dull pain. A murmur then came from her lips. “Though yah seem pretty stable right now.”

“Do as you wish Swath,” Hades murmured. The pit in his stomach was back and he knew he could no longer fight her, nor did he wish too. His life was hers, only hers. “I do believe at this moment in time you know more about the situation than I, as much as I loathe to admit.” Letting his body relax he closed his eyes, sleep would not come easy. The pain was still present, a soft throbbing in the core of his stomach. There was also the fact that she was in the room with him, and while her presence did relax him it also cause that storm of emotions to stir in his breast. Opening his eyes he shifted his head to look at her, Swath had moved to sit by his head on the floor. She had covered her blind eye once again with an eye-patch, but what truly made Hades wish to recoil was the fact she was so close to him. Though his body refused to move, and instead he just blinked a few times in her direction. She smiled and reached up brushing away his dark brown hair that slipped to obscure his face. 

“I’h do, sadly. I’h wish I didn't. Awfully similar tah some wounds I’ve had in the past.” Swath shrugged and Hades opened his mouth to protest and respond with a question, but instead found her continuing. “But yah are a captive audience. I’h figure since yah are up we should have that talk.” 

Hades snapped his jaw shut, ah yes the talk about his past and the future. The future he hoped to have by her side. “Yes, I consented to being interrogated about this,” Hades murmured, Swath turning to gaze at him again her face solemn. Raising a weary hand he waved it briefly before letting it fall limply back at his side. “Ask away hero, I will answer truthfully, as I always have.”

She beamed, it was a melancholy filled smile. “I know,” Swath turned to gaze at the other side of the room chewing on her lip briefly. “Hades, yah where Solus correct?”

He frowned, what sort of question was this? He plainly said when they first met that he had been Solus zos Galvus and countless others, but sighing he humored her. “Yes, I was Solus.”

“Do yah remember a small village in the Garlean mountains?” As the words slipped from her mouth he felt his heart clench as she tilted her head away from him. “Small village that worshiped a Primal like entity. Quiet, peaceful, only did trade with otha towns once ah blue moon.” Hades watched as her body became rigid and her ears flattened. Her hand, which had been resting on the bed side fell away and fell limply in her lap. “Tha town was mah home. I’h was raised there. It was destroyed, by Emporer Solus’ word.” 

Hades turned away, “By Zodiark,” He murmured shifting lifting his heavy hand to his face. This was regret, this was sorrow, this was fear; these emotions in his breast that threatened to suffocate him. He remembered that order, he remembered hearing about that small village of possible primal worshipers in his lands. Hades remembered being something similar to gleeful, he would sow more destruction, he had thought, and hasten the rejoining. He had sent some of his best men to that village to destroy it. Hades had not known that inadvertently he would created the Warrior of Light, that he had created the woman that sat next to him. Part of him was happy he did such, because he had been saved by her hand, but it was easily eclipsed by the regret. He had taken everything from her. 

“I’h was also nearly killed by those men yah sent.” Hades flinched as she spoke up again. “I’h, I’h dont ask for an apology Hades. I’h just wanted tah know if yah did send them.” Her voice was soft, broken. It was not all she wanted to talk about, this much was clear, but it was the most prominent thing on her mind. 

He took in a deep breath. “Yes, I did send those men. I intended to wipe out the entire village, for the local villages to begin to think I was losing my mind and hasten the fear in those lands.” Hades laughed bitterly. “The quicker the rejoining the better after all.”

“I’h see,” Swaths voice petered out to nothing and silence fell over the two of them. It persisted for a long time, until Hades lifted his hand from his face and saw a blur of white and grayish blue suddenly eclipse what little light was in the room. “Hades,” Swath was over him her hands on either side of his face, hers awfully close to his. “Yah life is mine,” Her one uncovered eye staring with heat into his own pools of gold. “I’h choose yah, the one who took my family from me, to be mine.” 

Once again silence fell over the room, Hades lifted his heavy hand to wrap around her arm. He did not do so in such a way that he threatened to throw her off of him, no, he did not have the strength for that. What he did have the strength for was to hold her there. To hold her above him and not let go. 

“I will not die unless you say, I will not leave the Crystarium without your word, I am yours to command Swath,” Hades said evenly, watching as her eye widened clearly not expecting his proclamation. To him, it made sense, they were using each other, at least up to this point that had been the deal. The deal was different now. “My life, Swath, is yours. I will ask for nothing in return.” After all he had no right to ask such things, she was a hero and he washed up villain. Hades did not know if he would ever have the power he once did because of Swath acting like a cap upon him, but in truth he did not care. His life was hers, it had been the moment he opened his eyes returning from death by her hands. Swath had given him a second chance at life, a second chance to live. He had to live with everything wrong he had done yes, and he had done terrible wrongs to the one person he was coming to care deeply for. He could not atone for that. Hades squeezed her arm with what power he had in his muscles and willed his message to get across. He was a Ascian, but from this point on he was her Ascian. Not Zodiarks, not Elidibus’, hers. 

“Give me, give me some of yah aether to seal the deal.” Swaths voice shook as she asked this, the command caused him to raise his eyebrows. 

“Excuse me hero, you wish for what?” Hades shifted as she got off of him sitting at the side of the bed, hanging only one leg off of it still crowding him as he struggled to sit up. His body was heavy and did not obey his commands properly, but after he got halfway up and was about to slip backwards her hands where there holding him up. Again, she was close to close. They had been this close only hours before, but her request was something increasingly intimate. 

“Aether, mine is already in yah,” She lifted a hand away and gently jabbed his chest, a section that was not wounded. “Its only fair yah know.” 

“I do not think you understand what you ask.” Hades muttered leaning his head away from her, while trying to keep his thundering heart in check. This was panic right? This feeling that caused him to wish for the energy to flee from the room. Of course he had no such energy and was sufficiently trapped by Swaths form. She let her hand graze his chest back to his shoulder.

“I’h do, yeah it could hurt meh but I’h need tah know yah are serious. Its like ah bindin spell.” Swath frowned at him, her expression still intense. Hades took in in a steadying breath, she wanted this. 

It was different from using her as a conduit for his magics; his aether just passed through her harmlessly, but to mix them.  He frowned, looking inward, feeling his own aether. Hades earlier had recognized that his soul was fundamentally the same yet something was different, was it his aether? After a moment he saw it, around his darkly colored soul was surrounded by a slight golden glow. Her aether, a bit of her soul. Hades swallowed, looking at her - she had mixed their aether. Against his wishes a blush traveled from his neck to his cheeks. Causing the Viera to lean back surprised. Hades could tell she was about to ask but he shook his head, if this is what she wanted he would do it. “Yes, yes alright hero if this is the assurance you wish for I will give you some of my aether.”  He watched as she relaxed, although her expression was still one of confusion. “Do not regret this.” Hades muttered, advice for the both of them as he shifted to press his hand against her chest.  Then with a slight frown took in a deep breath and leaned forward, pressing his forehead against hers. 

His third eye pressed uncomfortably against her skin but he ignored it, he focused on her form her hands that held him and his hand on her chest. Releasing his deep breath he reached for the familiar route he took when he used her as a conduit, but instead of allowing his aether to pass by her he pushed it outward around her, into her. She gasped and he ignored it, pushing further, feeling no resistance. Then there was a snap and he pulled his head back, taking in a steadying breath. 

By Zodiark he was now painfully aware of her, moving his body away to the best of his ability he felt her hands release him. Hades did not look at her face as he pressed his back against the headboard of the bed, but once he was settled he looked back up and saw that she was crying. He recoiled looking at her with disgusted shock, why was she crying? Why would she cry after asking something so intimate of him? He was about to open his mouth to rebuke her, and remind her that he had said that she should not regret asking such a thing. Instead his words died on his lips as she raised her hand to her cheek, seemingly equally surprised as he. 

“Was tha their wish too?”

“Whose wish hero?” Hades asked as he leaned forward, the panic returning. “Whose wish?” The Ascians mind raced, he had not shown her anything through that bond had he? Then it dawned on him, the dreaded ‘Crystal mothers’ blessing, the echo. “What did you see Swath,” He reached out to her, her wide eyes causing his breaths to come quick. “Swath who did you see.”