#someone's fingers feel like the branches of an ancient tree as they brush your head

[alienjaes]

The eternal problem of "it is nighttime and my brain has oopy-goopy thoughts I want to soak in"

vs

There's a thing to be up for relatively early (and your body already sucks at existing with 8 hours of sleep)

[mythicamagic]

Fangs of Silver: Sesskag oneshot

Summary: Kagome Higurashi has her work cut out for her, hunting one of the most elusive and powerful werewolves known to man: the Killing Perfection. Sesskag smut oneshot. Werewolf Sesshoumaru/monster hunter Kagome. 

Rated M

Words: 4,700

Read on Ao3 and Dokuga

AN: for @cookieasylum​ for an art trade. Thanks bud! Hope you like it

Fangs of Silver

Warning: werewolf x human smut, knotting, menstrual sex

---

Two fingers unfurled to touch the moonlit forest floor, tracing the outline of a large paw-print stamped into dirt. Even splaying her palm wide with four fingers and thumb outstretched, Kagome couldn't hope to meet its size, dwarfed in comparison.

"Looks like I've found you again," she muttered, straightening from her crouch. Walking onwards and listening out for any hint of movement within the imposing woods- tall anorexic trees completely still with sharp looking branches- blue eyes remained alert, watchful.

She'd been tracking this one for God knew how long now. Months. Had it been a year yet? Though even the smallest victory of finding his tracks left no time for celebration.

Kagome frowned to herself. This particular beast wasn't usually so careless. He evaded her during daylight hours by wading through streams or keeping to rocky terrain, never giving the same name when mingling with villagers. Even when the Full Moon hit- he managed to be elusive and surprisingly clever. The smartest one she'd been sent to hunt. This time he'd either been sloppy or…

Kagome glimpsed something through a gap in the lower trees, located further down the hill. Smoke?

Surely he wasn't trying to trap her with something so obvious.

Frowning, Kagome set down her weapon and snuffed out the flames of her torch, checking her supplies. Enough silver bullets. Enough jewel shards. Her guns were in good shape, but she was out of herbal supplements to repress a certain annoyance that also occurred every month. Wincing, she put a hand to her lower abdomen, feeling it cramp.

Crap, not now.

She'd have to ignore it. She couldn't afford to lose this guy due to Mother Nature kicking her continually in the gut.

This beast had committed countless acts of violence- leaving behind a trail of bodies in their respective towns and villages. Unlike usual werewolves who sloppily left bitten survivors to run amok, this beast made no mistakes. He seemed to kill specific people and left them firmly for dead. He never inflicted the curse upon anyone. Surprisingly his victims were usually reported to be less than innocent citizens.

Due to the killings- a bounty had been placed on what the authorities referred to as 'the Killing Perfection.'

Creeping down a steep incline, Kagome stepped as lightly as possible within the relative darkness of the trees -autumn leaves crunching beneath her boots.

A lonesome house in the woods stood like a mourner in a graveyard under the light of the Full Moon, dark wood faintly eroded by time. Vines held the chimney in a stranglehold, but smoke puffing out of the top revealed it to be in working order despite the dilapidated state of the house.

Slipping around the side of the building and ducking out of sight from any windows, Kagome stopped with her back to the wall, loading her rifle while stooped into a crouch.

Taking a deep breath and slowly letting it out, Kagome wasted no time. She pushed off and rounded the corner, kicking open the front door with the barrel of her gun trained inside.

Empty?

Kagome didn't let her guard down, slowly inching inside and glancing around.

The fireplace was lit with healthy flames- a kettle sat off to the side, an empty mug not too far away. Everything else in the room had a layer of dust costing it, but the armchair lay newly cleaned. Footprints trailed around the ashen floor, some human, some wolf prints.

Kagome searched the lower floor that comprised of mostly empty rooms, before pointing her gun up towards the stairs, setting foot on the first step.

It groaned loudly beneath her weight.

Wincing, blue eyes snapped to the top of the dark stairs for any tell-tale signs of movement.

Wandering up to the second floor cautiously and looking around revealed nothing more than dust bunnies.

Kagome frowned, eyeing the open window. Had he jumped down and escaped?

Sighing with disappointment, she shouldered her gun and trailed downstairs.

I suppose I can sweep the outside to pick up his trail again, but I bet he's long gone. He probably lit the chimney to distract me before making his escape and transforming for the night.

Wandering over to the kettle, she touched its side.

Still lukewarm. He'd literally just been there.

And I was too late.

Kagome groaned.

"What a disappointed noise. Were you aching to see me that badly?"

Stiffening, her heart jumped. The silky sounding words had come from behind her.

Pivoting on one heel, Kagome turned her weapon on the man lounging in the armchair.

His image blurred, snatching up her gun to lurch the barrel upwards just as she fired, the blast piercing the ceiling- some debris raining down.

Golden eyes sparked, snapping the barrel in two before throwing her to the floor with impressive strength.

Kagome gasped, back colliding hard with the wooden floors, winded. She quickly grabbed one of her pistols and trained it on the man- who had disappeared again.

"W-what?" she panted. "It's a Full Moon. Why haven't you transformed?"

"Ah, you wish for me to change? Very well," his voice rumbled from outside.

Fur blocked out the moonlight pouring in from the shutters, brushing along the side of the house. Quiet, hungry panting filled her ears.

Kagome quickly fired at the windows, but the shadows melted away, causing her to wonder if it had been a trick of the light.

"I heard tell of a woman who subdues my kind before using shards of a blessed jewel to revert them back into humans…"

Paws padded around the house, nails dragging- scraping the forest floor. "You have pursued me for some time. Did you hope to transform me into a mortal like those you have hunted before me? Break my curse?" the male uttered.

"I knew you were strong, so I didn't have much hope of using them. Taking you back alive to stand trial for all the things you've done is a tall order," Kagome grunted, lower stomach clenching. She quietly hissed. Cycle blood likely marred her trousers now.

"Indeed. Even if you shot me with one of your infamous jewels though, it would not work."

A figure bent down, twisting through the front door with the ease of a feline through bars. Sleek silver fur gleamed with a fiery hue, bathed in the hearth's orange light.

Saliva dripped from exposed canines, muzzle pulled back.

The werewolf towered over her in size. He had the look of a distorted wolf- pale torso resembling a man due to broad shoulders and defined abdomen. He shifted to stand upright, hind legs strong, capable of supporting his weight. Thick hackles rose, paws more akin to hands tipped with killer claws.

Unlike the other beasts she'd faced, this one had peculiar red markings slashing over his cheeks, lower legs and flank. Glowing red eyes burned with the heat of the sun.

"You unknowingly came in search of a Pure Blood. I cannot be 'fixed' little hunter. This is how I was born," he purred, mouth unmoving, whispering honeyed words in her mind.

Those eyes strayed down to her legs, nostrils flaring. "And you are in heat, no less. A fine time to go hunting for a predator."

Kagome shivered, raising her pistol and aiming it between his eyes.

The werewolf gazed at her calmly, completely different from the wild, almost rabid beasts she'd fought with before.

A Pure Blood…

She'd never come across a creature so ancient. He looked at her with intelligence, as she'd suspected from tracking him.

"I-I'm not in heat," she muttered, finger grazing the trigger without pulling it. Why wasn't he attacking?

"You hurt those townspeople. Why?"

"I walk among men in my other form. Occasionally I find those deserving of death. Those who harm their cubs and mates. Those who leech of their pack and drink themselves into violent stupors. Sometimes they simply get in my way."

Kagome grit her teeth, "so you dispense justice alone? I don't disagree with cruel people deserving some kind of consequences but you don't get to decide who lives and dies. That's playing God."

He chuckled inside her mind, mouth pulling back from sharp teeth in an imitation of a smile. "Is what you do so different, little hunter?"

"I follow the orders of my superiors- unless I think someone can be saved with the jewels I bless."

Interest brightened his gaze, tail swishing once behind him.

Her only warning.

The beast knocked her arms to one side, striking her down with a headbutt to her chest. The action sent her gun skittering away over dusty floorboards, disappearing into harsh shadows. One human-like forepaw pressed down on Kagome's stomach, making her breath wheeze free from frozen lungs- his other holding her right arm down to keep her pinned. He then leaned in close, white ears perked atop his head.

A white maw drifted over her startled face, nostrils flaring, inhaling her scent greedily.

"Holy powers…" he uttered thoughtfully.

Kagome's left hand fumbled with the hem of her shirt, eyes narrowing. "I'm a former sister of the church. It comes in handy when dealing with creatures that go bump in the night."

She abruptly thrust her formally concealed dagger up, aiming it straight for his heart.

Powerful jaws snapped down, locking around her arm- the beast hissing as her blade ran off course but scraped down his neck and shoulder.

Kagome yelped, dagger freezing. Her hand remained free outside of the cage of teeth but she dared not move. Teeth mouthed her arm without breaking the skin, until a particularly sharp canine made a trail of crimson leak down the inside of her wrist.

A large, wet tongue roved, licking and sliding over the length of her elbow and wrist while they lay trapped within the hot cavern of his mouth.

"Now we have both shed blood tonight, little hunter. Are you satisfied?"

Kagome panted, gritting blunt teeth. She glared hotly into large red eyes fixed on her, looming close. From the new proximity, she could now see his seafoam green irises and slit pupils from within the sea of crimson. They dilated the longer she looked.

"You are quite the woman," he rumbled appreciatively. "What name do you go by?"

"K-kagome."

"Hn, I am Sesshoumaru. I thank you for your relentless pursuit of me over these past few months. It was quite flattering."

Kagome opened her mouth to reply before a hiss broke her off. The clenching of her abdomen took up attention for a moment, twisting like a knife in her gut.

"Heat can be painful to go through alone," he acknowledged, teeth slowly easing from her arm, eyes trained on her warningly not to try anything. His slick tongue unwrapped itself from her arm with a trail of saliva. He licked his maw hungrily.

Kagome gripped her sticky arm, glaring from her position on the floor. No bite. Just a nick from his tooth. It wouldn't be enough to curse her. She warily lowered her dagger.

"It's just my monthly cycle. I'm fine...gn…"

"You seem it," he mocked, wolf expression unchanging, though his eyes danced.

His great head lowered, hovering over her groin. His nose drew closer, inhaling over the red patch. His long pink tongue slid out, drawing over it with a lingering lick.

Kagome yelped, forgetting her guns and blades- grasping the dense white fur of his neck. "W-what are you doing?!"

He managed to look suggestive without human features, tipping his head slightly. "As a hunter, it must be difficult to find relief. You are always working, are you not? Chasing evil…" his voice resounded with the finest baritone in her mind, coaxing and soothing, completely at odds with his monstrous appearance. He almost sounded aristocratic. "Fortunately...you happen to lie beneath a beast tonight."

Saliva, warm and dewy, dropped onto her leg in small puddles. Sesshoumaru gazed at her while snaking his tongue out once more, prying it harder between her legs.

Kagome gasped, back-arching, a rush spilling up from her cunt to twist sweet arousal at her core. She viciously clamped down on such a reaction, growling.

"No one gave you permission to take liberties with me, pal!" she drew her knee up, attempting to kick him away.

Sesshoumaru released her arm in favour of grasping her thigh, chuckling while forcing it down. "Why protest?"

Kagome snatched up her dagger again, pressing the hilt against her chest and keeping the point raised outwards.

"Why agree?! Y-you're a…" wide blue eyes flicked over his strange, inhuman body. "I've never- n-not with a werewolf. I'm pretty sure that's breaking some sort of rule. Or law."

"I will not tell a soul."

Her gaze turned flat, fingers shifting over the hilt. "I'm supposed to be killing you. We just tried to kill each other!"

"Hn, keep your friends close and enemies closer, as they say. Allowing them into your bed does not seem like such an extreme, and I find there is always a slight thrill in fighting, is there not?"

It was a night of firsts. Kagome had never experienced anything like it in her five years of hunting. None of her superiors had ever mentioned an intelligent werewolf who could control their transformation and shapeshift at will. The only whisper of it had come from dusty old books stashed away in catacombs. The air in the lonely house felt cold, tickling her skin like a living thing, but the space between Hunter and Werewolf crackled with intensity.

Kagome swallowed, feeling squirmy. She tensed when a wet nose came back up to sniff at her neck. Warm breath fanned over flushed skin as his snout travelled up and down, scenting. It soon buried itself within dark hair, making her gasp. The suggestion of teeth scraped the crown of her head, joined by a pleased, rumbling noise. Goosebumps rose on her exposed skin, blood burning, alight with confused but obvious need.

His alien, paw-like hand ran over her hip and breast, cupping the side of her jaw. The shock of thin fur and monstrous, long fingers tipped with claws should've terrified her. Kagome had fought against such hands for years. Her body held traces of scars where such nails had hooked and dragged into supple flesh.

As it was, when his second stroked her inner thigh, Kagome shuddered. He smelled faintly of clove and damp earth. His movements were deliberate. The inferno of his eyes when they locked with hers shone with hunger- but also curiosity. That mindfulness and clarity of his thoughts was what allowed her to hesitantly touch the hand on her thigh.

It felt too large and gangly to be a human, fur and heat brushing the calloused skin of her palm.

"You can't bite me," she warned, laying the flat of her blade against his neck. "I'll kill you if you do- and that'll instantly free me from the curse."

Sesshoumaru smiled with his eyes.

He forced her down again, claws making quick work of her pants, tearing a sizable hole at the crotch.

The wiry fur of his muzzle immediately dived down, fervently taking in her scent with hearty, eager inhales. It sent a rush of arousal straight through her, hips jolting.

Nose, teeth and tongue soon brushed her sex, before the latter thrust inside, heedless of the blood.

Kagome cried out, toes curling, going completely still. The invasive probing between her legs filled her entrance, sinking deeper. It then flicked outside, allowing her to feel the velvet rough texture. It swirled experimentally over her clit.

Shakily tightening her now slippery grip on the dagger, Kagome gasped and shuddered.

"I-I thought you were going to transform into a man-!"

Sesshoumaru gave a rumbling noise in response. He gripped the front of her blouse, yanking to rip it open and fondle her breast.

"You do not wish to see the creature you've hunted feasting on you?" the rumbling purr lifted into something darkly amused, tail flicking behind him.

He grabbed her hips, swivelling them to flip her over. Kagome yelped and snarled, about to protest when his palms kneaded her ass, raising it and tearing off the remainder of her pants- the pads of his thumbs dragging to her sex, spreading slick folds and delving a warm, thick tongue inside her all the deeper.

Kagome kept a needless grip on the dagger, a strangled noise caught in her throat. His muzzle nudged and pried, urging her to rock against his tongue. Feeling warm, she clumsily grasped at her coat, yanking her arms free and tossing it aside.

Full breasts were squashed to the floor under the weight of the werewolf as he pressed her down, but her nipples- stiff and hardened with pleasure- received friction from the steady rhythm. The pleasure came in small, electric bursts.

"Fuck," she groaned, biting her lip. This was wrong. She shouldn't allow this.

A clawed thumb rubbing at the sensitive bundle of nerves between her thighs silenced that weak protest. It felt good. So deliciously good. Men scarcely put their mouth on her down there, deeming it 'dirty' or beneath them.

Kagome shivered, pushing back against the roving tongue continually thrusting inside her core, flexibly twisting, rubbing against her inner walls and licking with heinous, grunting noises like she slaked his thirst. They found a kind of rhythm without communicating through words, and an incredible rush built in her stomach- delighted to rock against his mouth.

Bowing her head and trying to concentrate on breathing, Kagome jolted and shamelessly moaned as his movements became more relentless, hungrily collecting evidence of her arousal and cycle onto his tongue.

"W-why-?" she managed out, straining to look at him over her shoulder- the tongue plunging faster in quick delves like he were mining for gold- sharp teeth scraping her entrance, adding rapidly to the throbbing feeling building up in her lower stomach.

Why was he pleasuring her? It didn't align with a wild beasts actions.

Blue eyes glimpsed glowing crimson behind her. With a sudden push of his humanoid paw on her back, trapping her in place- Kagome squealed loudly as Sesshoumaru pried so deep he wore her like a puppet with his tongue, grunting with savage satisfaction when she came from the action.

"Agh!" Kagome cried out, body igniting, juices immediately flowing into his mouth, which he collected enthusiastically with broad strokes. Somewhere between all this, she lost grip on her weapon. The blade clanked against the floors loudly.

After pulling away, the werewolf paid no heed to the red staining his lips, licking at his jaw in a decadent, gluttonous manner.

"Why what?" Sesshoumaru sat back on his haunches, ears perking, haughtily eyeing her with an air of pride. He probably took great pleasure in reducing a hunter to such a vulnerable mess.

Kagome felt like she'd received her answer. "Never mind," she caught her breath, forehead dotted with sweat. Her muscles burned despite the lack of physical exertion, body feverishly warm.

She sat up slowly, wincing at the slick feeling of her cunt. It fluttered and clenched, demanding more- wanting to be filled.

"I feel better now. We can end things there and-"

Kagome caught an eyeful of his crotch, entranced by the hard evidence of his arousal.

Oh.

She swallowed, reading the look in his eye easily. They wouldn't be stopping anytime soon. From the look of his long, thick cock, they'd be spending a while easing it in if he were committed to pleasuring her.

Somehow she felt alright with that. The fever in her veins wasn't satisfied yet, though she had reservations about allowing a literal werewolf to take her. However something undeniable had come to life in the pit of her gut, something raw and hot that left her wet between her legs and wordlessly begging.

Sesshoumaru's claws closed around her ankle, dragging her towards him- her ass coming to meet his twitching cock.

"I do not think you have unwound nearly enough. You must expel all pent up frustrations if you are to continue hunting me. I worry you will fall behind if not- your tracking has become sloppy lately."

Kagome whipped her head up and growled- just as the head of his cock nestled at her entrance, cutting off the noise and sending it choking. Blushing, she reached behind her, spreading herself for him- holding herself open while Sesshoumaru gave that jagged flash of teeth in response, slipping his thick length inside her inch by inch.

Whimpering and dropping her hands, Kagome bowed forward, trying to adjust. He sank even deeper. The sheer slickness between her thighs helped but didn't assuage the terrible stretch that threatened to overwhelm her. He was too big, his large and hairy body towering over hers, encasing her back with the furnace heat of his body.

"Ease yourself back against me- slowly," panting breath fanned over her damp neck. She felt him run an almost affectionate feeling lick up the sensitive shell of her ear. "Relax. This body was built to withstand many things," his palm stroked a path over her navel, circling up her hip where a scar lay. "You will not allow me to dominate you so easily, will you, Kagome?"

Panting, Kagome tried to get used to feeling every inch of him inside her, filling her clenching walls to the brim.

His hands were three times the size of hers, one settling beside her on the floor. The way he loomed over her made the formally fearless woman feel small, crushable.

"H-ha! As if," she shakily replied. Not one to give in, Kagome did as instructed, slowly rocking back against him just like before. She winced. The sensation was much fuller and tighter, uncomfortable.

Sesshoumaru hissed and groaned, rubbing at her clit again to shoot tiny bursts of fireworks through her system. It helped coax some pleasure back into things. Kagome gave a shaky moan.

Sensing her change in enjoyment, the wolf began moving.

She cried out, wincing a little at his slight withdraw- before groaning as he eased back in, creating a slow, building pace.

The thick, soft fur that covered him from crown to foot gleamed in the light of the room. Kagome could feel it hot against her back, tickling her skin. The strands began to stick to flushed flesh. Sweat began to bead, rolling down her shoulder blades.

"You take me very well, for a human," Sesshoumaru nosed at her hair.

"I can't say 'taking a cock' nicely is the highest compliment ever, but- thanks," Kagome panted. He gave an amused huff, giving a hard thrust in response that knocked her forward.

Yelping, she grabbed onto the first available thing. Her breath caught when her fingers met soft, warm fur. His arm.

It felt sturdy amidst the sea of sensations. Kagome held tighter onto it, bracing herself. She could sense the control beginning to slip from her new bedmate.

Sesshoumaru growled ferally, fanning hot, sticky breath over her shoulders. He then slammed inside her- ramming his hard cock completely within.

Letting out a loud, startled cry that bordered on a scream, Kagome bit down on his arm. He set a brutal pace, thrusting his cock with a quickness that blinded her. She squeezed her eyes shut so tight stars burst behind her eyelids.

Strands of dark hair stuck to her forehead, the rest bouncing and swaying with the werewolf's chosen pace: hard and merciless.

She sank her teeth harder into Sesshoumaru's arm, but he was completely silent inside her mind now. Whatever debonair and lofty charm he possessed had been shoved far back into the recesses of his consciousness, replaced with raw primal need and heavy grunts. He sought to fuck, and Kagome found herself mewling receptively, weakly rocking back against him.

With a snarl, he yanked his arm free from her teeth- rearing back onto his haunches and dragging Kagome with him, holding her hips while continually rutting into her.

Kagome went completely speechless in both pain and pleasure. The new angle nestled onto his lap with the steel band of his arms wrapped around her waist allowed him to reach new depths.

Letting out mindless moans, she rested her head back against his furry shoulder, body ablaze, cunt squeezing him deliciously. The arms holding her prisoner forced her to meet each thrust, creating an intense friction inside that brought her into a state of begging. "P-please- more. Fuck-! More, I'm so close, please!"

Sesshoumaru gave guttural snarls and rumbles in response. But there was something strange happening with his cock. She could feel it even while held under the haze of pleasure. Nudging up against her entrance, something thicker than his length and more rounded threatened to push inside. His knot.

Kagome couldn't react- distracted by another orgasm ripping through her at the most inopportune time.

The knot swelled and stretched her sex farther than she'd anticipated. With a jolt of his hips, Sesshoumaru followed her into orgasm, throwing his head back in a deafening snarl. A torrent of cum flooded her, painting her inner walls- all locked in by the werewolf's knot.

Kagome jolted and strained, mouth opening in a wordless scream. Full. She felt too full. Her sex strained, still squeezing him like a vice.

Slowly, his voice drifted back into her head. "Very good...worthy female...powerful. Should claim..."

"S-sesshoumaru?" she croaked weakly, limp in his arms.

A silver muzzle nuzzled the side of her head in response, crooning lowly. "Hn?"

"You uh..." Kagome panted, giving a weak gesture of her wrist, trying to rise and finding it impossible. He was quite literally locked inside her. "You knotted me- shouldn't you have pulled out?"

She wasn't concerned about being pupped- she'd handled dodging pregnancy with herbal aid before. However, like this, it made moving away impossible.

"Why would this one do that?"

Blue eyes blinked, shifting up to him. His fur plastering against her skin felt like a feathery bed cushioning her spine. "Because now we're stuck, for who knows how long. A few minutes to 30. I figured you'd..."

Want to get away. Re-establish our roles as enemies.

He acted the same as always. She couldn't anticipate his movements or read him.

A sinuous tongue she'd now become intimately acquainted with slid up her cheek. The fur receded at her back, and Kagome stiffened with alarm.

When she turned slightly, she found herself gazing at the pale, handsome features of a man. His markings remained, branding him as something inhuman despite the skin, pretty fall of hair and stern sweep of his brow.

"I intend to have you many times," Sesshoumaru uttered out loud, sounding much crisper in the quiet room. "In a multitude of ways."

Kagome opened her mouth to reply, gasping when a tongue thrust inside her mouth. Grunting, she managed to return the dominating press of tongue and teeth, biting his lip for good measure and feeling him shiver.

When he began moving again while locked inside her, she fell into the murky waters of arousal once more.

-----

The morning sunlight peeking through the broken blinds brought many aches and pains with it. Kagome heard the front door shut, footsteps drawing away before falling silent.

Sitting up quickly, a fur throw fell from her shoulders. It pooled in her lap, revealing the full extent of fresh scratches and claw marks littering her nude body, along with bruises.

She winced at the stickiness between her legs. The smell of sex overwhelmed the stuffy room. So it wasn't a dream.

Noticing a steaming mug of green tea sitting before the lit fireplace loaded with newly chopped wood, Kagome tentatively reached out to touch it. Still warm.

He must've just left.

Running her hands up and down her flesh, she found no bite marks. He'd stayed true to his word.

Feeling a little complicated, Kagome blinked upon noticing a letter sitting atop a fresh change of clothes on the armchair. Her weapons were also neatly arranged nearby.

Picking up the parchment, blue eyes flitted over the message.

'Pursue me once more, my hunter. I enjoyed feasting on you.'

Kagome pressed her lips together. She shook herself a little. This was still the enemy, nothing had changed despite a thoroughly pleasurable night. In the privacy of the room however, she allowed herself a small smile.

After eating, washing and dressing for the day, Kagome stepped outside.

Securing her weapons, she gave chase.

End

[tiens-letters]

upon autumns day, where you and I met. upon autumns day where I remember all of what we were before youve passed. and upon autumns day would I have ever so slowly let go of that pain of the past

zhongli (angst)

@albeidoof its somewhere here hehehe

Time was a luxury. A treasure each and everything holds.

Yet time is a curse as well. It covets, devours and leaves. which humanity neglects to cherish until the heart ceases its steady rythmn, only then do they regret of the wasted minutes, hours and seconds.

Beneath the flow of the rushing waves of things that have come and gone. Only on this particular day would he sit beneath a certain tree. The rough bark brushing up against his back as leaves fell effortlessly to the ground, as if it were ready to let go of from the branches that gave birth to it, only to return once again to the waiting soil.

It was a sunny afternoon, clear of any clouds and only clear unblemished blue, a good time to enjoy a warm cup of tea yet there was no energy in his bones to even move from where he was.

He felt exhausted. Desultory even.

Gone were the halcyon days of the past, and now the present time of the vivid reality he had to face.

Morax, rex lapis, the geo archon. Names that weighted more than one could carry, memories that shackled his soul that lived for a thousand years on end, all but a stain that could never be washed away.

The breeze slowly danced in, playing with his hair softly, kissing his skin and welcoming him. It carried a hint of aromatic essence only he would know belongs to.

You.

He tried to desperately recount the days after youve left the face of the earth and yet he could not remember or did his mind not allow him to as if he did, it would bring him terrible and heavy consequences for an answer, one sane mind would never want to know.

Sighing, he sat back and recalled back the memories of you instead. When you were alive, warm and breathing in his arms. He remembers the way your eyes would shine brightly whenever he would be around, or the small sound of delight you would make when you have finished another one of the many interesting blends of tea youve done over the course of a week of mixing different flowers and tea leaves. Youve made up quite the fortune with this as your little hobby bloomed into a fully run business known across teyvat.

"Zhongli." he froze, youve never called him by his name ever since youve started getting close, it made him feal uneasy as he turned to look at you who stood by the doorway, a neutral look on your face.

"y-yes?" nervousness clawed at him as he racked his brain to what he couldve done for you to call his name like that, he couldnt think of any.

"I came back from the market and I heard youve made quite the generous payment. Why is that, I wonder?" he's done it again, that spending habit of his

"The price was reasonable for such a fine ceramic tea set, I dont seem to find why it shouldnt reflect its quality?" you sighed as you pointed towards the glass cupboard behind him

"You bought the same exact set a week ago, Zhongli. Thats why." having to realize his mistake after looking over the two identical set that on the shelf, he turned to apologize but only to see you missing from the doorway. Footsteps can be heard from the floorboards above him. You were upset.

After minutes of pacing in the living room, he finally mustered the courage to climb the stairs and enter your shared bedroom. A figure already under the sheets as the warm glow of the lamp illuminated your delicate features. The mattress sunk as he sat beside you, fingers brushing away the stray hair that fell on your face.

"Im still mad at you Zhongli." his hand flinched slightly at the way you called him

"I apologize. I seem to not have learned my lesson again. I would gladly return the set tomorrow."

"Its no use, they dont accept refunds." you replied without sparing a glance at him

"What can I do for you to forgive me then?"

"Just go to sleep, Zhongli." groaning you reached for the switch to shut the lamp off but a gentle grip stopped you, forcing you to look at his gloomy expression. Perhaps you went too far this time.

"Please stop calling me in that way. I dont like it." he whispers, drawing your palm to his lips, leaving small kisses upon it. He sure does know his way around your heart, no wonder why you could not stay mad at him.

"Just be mindful next time." you cursed yourself for being weak to his charms.

"I will." yet something was missing "Then can you call me as you did before?"

"Zhongli?" you could see the slight grimace in his face as you teased him

"Stop it." he kissed you without warning "Call me as you did before."

However, his lips didnt stop as they began to travel. From your cheeks to you forehead and then to your neck. Oh dear, he wasnt having any of your teasing.

"A-li." you giggled beneath him as he finally stopped and met your gaze

"Thats better."

He still remembers the faint smile that graced your lips whenever he would wake up next to you tangled in the same sheets. The softness of your skin on his calloused touch. Your lips melting his and your voice lulling his raging mind to peace.

Then everything changed when you drew blood that spilled from those lips he's kissed for a thousand times, painting a morbid image on the sheets. Anger and despair boiled inside of him once he learned of the secret youve kept. Zhongli was a calm and collected man all of the time except when he was with you.

Having to witness him at such a point felt as if his own spear was being driven right through his very chest. He held you in an arms width away, the panic and pain in his eyes increasing over the minute as he begged for you to explain why youve decided to lie about the flowers that bloomed in your lungs, the sickness youve inherited from your deceased mother, whose fate you soon would follow. You didnt want him to find out, not in this way.

He couldve done anything if he knew from the start but alas, you wanted to be cruel, thinking it was for the best. Until your symptoms persisted, a heavy reminder of the remaining distance of the string you have to walk on to reach the end. The heavy feeling in your chest started to worsen as cherry sweet liquid poured from your mouth.

Soon the once pristine sheets were stained in haunting crimson shades as you heaved and he watched in agony. If only he had the ability of what he once had back then, if only he could plant the seeds of the flowers from yours to his then he would, if only he hadnt met you one autumn evening

" please dont look at me like that. " you told him, cold hands caressing his cheeks, catching the streams of salty warm beads that fell freely from your darling's amber eyes.

"Im sorry. Im so sorry..." the last thing you wanted to see was this man to cry. The last thing you wanted to see was to see him relive the past tragic memories you promised to bring him out of

" my disease has nothing to do with you. In the end it was mine alone to handle. oh, you are far from that so please dont you ever blame yourself."

"How can I not? If I havent fallen so deep then you would experienced so much more in life, you couldve been happier if you met someone else. Yet you chose me and I couldnt give you anything, I--. " the words knotted up as he began to shake, hands holding yours as knuckles turned to white

You slapped him.

With all the strength youve gathered in that fading body of yours. The sound cutting the grieving sounds that spilled from him, soul and flesh alike.

"A-li, look at me. Do I look like someone whose unsatisfied with what youve given me? Did my smile ever fade when Im with you? Did your affections ever lack? Answer me." his watery gaze met yours, a torrent of emotions swimming in them

"No. Never." a soft smile was carved unto your lips

"My dear, youve given me all Ive ever wanted in this life and I regret nothing of it."

To him, you were the flower that bloomed at the highest peak of the mountain he's never reached and yet its petals voluntarily detached and fell down, making him the happiest as one thing he's admired was untouchable and now, lay softly in the palm of his hands. To cherish and to protect.

But of course, all things are evanescent.

The familiar feeling of soreness that wasnt supposed to be there rose, ebbed and flowed through his throat. He knew it all too well, it was after he woke from his week long slumber did he feel it along with what his ancient beating heart felt.

"You collapsed." the worried words of the qixing echoed in his head. He frantically got up but as soon as his feet touched the floor did his legs give out underneath him, what use was he in this sorry state. He was helped up and sat back on the edge of the bed.

He wanted to ask many things yet was unable to.

Ningguang spoke as if you were still breathing and was visiting her minutes ago with another one of your tea blends. "Dont worry and rest first, go to jueyun karst after. They will be waiting."

To where the adepti resides, who as well, favored you, that one soul among thousands of others. One to which they shared a few good memories with was allowed to slumber there in peace.

Zhongli found himself waking up to the sun setting in the horizon. Just like how youve gone and resurfaced back into his memories. It was time.

He stood up from where he sat, gloved hands brushing any dirt that clung to him as he made his way to where you slept.

The red bean that was planted by himself still remained, a token of his love for you. Picking one bead and placing it inside the hollow dice he brought along, completing another one of the similar handicraft he's made every visit.

The sun finally died and the moon began its reign. The small wisps of light gathered around before him, forming a blurry image.

It was then he felt at ease, he saw you smiling at him with all there is in the world. Your light seemed to dim a little, hinting the blessing the adepti gave was slowly diminishing. Soon your visits would cease and you were sure that by the end of the power spent, he wouldve let go of the torment that plagued him.

"A-li. Have you been well?" he knew what you meant

"Im letting go slowly my dear. Perhaps in time, I would learn breathe easily once again."

Longest yet lol. Hope yall liked it ehehe

[eternallysarcastic]

winter moon/ch.2

Hello! I’m back with a new chapter. Thank you for the positive feedback, I really appreciate it! It makes me wanna write even more

Also if anyone is interested I also post on ao3: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28999362/chapters/71169963

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                                                       Chapter 2

“He will be able to help you more than I could in my current state,” Zhongli had said before he left, telling you to simply meet him in 3 days time near Mountain Hulao. 

 You had filled both him and Xiao in on your reason for coming to Liyue. The Yaksha had paid close attention to what you were saying but in the end none of you had any idea where to even begin. And here you were, 3 days later. No one had shown up yet so you wandered around the river area. You hadn’t seen Liyue in such a long time. For the past 2000 years you had been wandering around Teyvat, no particular goal in mind except finding her. 

It’s been 3000 years since you last saw her. You weren’t even sure if she was alive until her constellation had shown in the sky, as bright as ever. You had felt such relief you cried the whole night.

Despite that, millenia passed and you still hadn’t found her. With your weak powers all you could do is wait for the centuries to pass before her constellation was supposed to make another round and show up in the night sky. Last time that happened was 14 days ago and the stars had pointed you  here in Liyue. You promised yourself this time you’d find her.

You rounded the corner of a tight passage between two stone walls under mountain Hulao and was met with a giant tree, one branch of it had seemed to have turned into ice, bright glowing flowers grew near its roots. It was beautiful in its own tragic way. You saw how the ice weighed down one side of it and no leaves grew on it. An itch spread across your chest the more you looked at it.

As if in a trance you walked closer to it, the closer you were the more that itch became an ache. You didn’t blink, didn't breathe, just walked closer and closer. You felt past echoes of screams that sounded too familiar to your own, an ancient power you hadn’t felt in millennia came in waves through the tree. ��

All of a sudden an agonising pain overtook your whole body. You clutched your chest in pain, your breathing laboured and your eyes wanted to squeeze shut from the pain but you simply couldn’t tear them off the tree. Your body was used to pain, having endured millenia of it. But this pain was so different than any sword or arrow could cause.

It started from the deepest depths of your heart, traveled along every nerve of your body and made your eyes burn with hot tears. The screams were louder, there was blood on the trunk of the tree, there were arrows blasing by your head, blood on your hands. What was happening? Why did it hurt so much? Someone make the screams stop, someon-

A hand landed on your shoulder to keep you steady. You hadn’t noticed you were on your knees, trembling hands clutching your heart.

“Are you okay? What happened?” You realised the person who had showed up was Xiao.

You opened your mouth to answer but your throat was constricted. It seemed as if Xiao didn’t even need an answer, seeing you stare so intently at the half frozen tree.

Wordlessly he slid an arm around your waist and hoisted you up, helping you walk back through the narrow path between the mountains and setting you down under the shadow of a nearby tree. You breathed deeply, now that tree was out of sight the ache in your chest seemed to wither. You realised Xiao was sitting across from you, hands in the air as if he wasn’t sure on what to do next, his amber eyes glowed with an emotion you didn't recognise. Was it concern? You tried to lighten the mood a bit as you took another deep breath and released it as a soft laugh.

“I’m sorry. I don't know what happened back there. I apologise if I startled you.” You brushed your tears away with the sleeve of your shirt.

Your words seemed to calm him down as the peculiar emotion left his face and he put his hands back down. You didn’t know what to say. How do you explain yourself when you weren't sure what happened in the first place.

Why did seeing the half frozen tree suddenly trigger such a reaction from you? It felt like a phantom wound had reopened in your chest, a long forgotten agony, swept in the deepest part of your mind.

But why? This is the first time you’re seeing this particular tree, no event had taken place here that you could remember. So why?

“Stop thinking so much.” The voice beside you startled you.

“I’m sorry,” you started. “Stop apologising so much.” His eyes were fixated on you, over your body as if checking for injuries, for discomfort. He hesitated for a second before he looked away and said, “Are you okay?”

“Ah, there’s no need to worry. Pain doesn’t phase me much.” You missed the way his body tensed at your words. “I’m just… confused.”

Xiao had only hummed as a reply.

“Were there ever any major battles that have taken place here?” You settled on asking.

“Liyue is an old place. There have been numerous battles that have taken place and will continue to take place. As a celestial god you should already know that.”

You simply nodded, not replying. Perhaps you had felt the emotions of someone or something during a battle that had happened around the tree. Maybe it had absorbed the intensity of it and sealed it in its core. The previous Moon Gods have had quite high sensitivity to spirits and spiritual signs of power. Unfortunately, your own talents didn't lie there, you were more of a warrior but maybe it had awoken it in you?

A flicker on your forehead took you up from your deep thoughts. You looked up in confusion. Xiao had flicked his fingers against your forehead.

“I said stop thinking so much. This tree has a lot of history to it. Aren't you celestial beings attuned to underlying powers?”

You realised he was trying to calm your fast breathing. It seemed so uncharacteristic of him.

“Yes, that’s true. However, it just seemed as if-” as if you were there when whatever happened took place. You shook your head to clear it of such thoughts. If you were there why didn't you remember? You were an old god, old gods had good memory. Zhongli was proof of that. You wouldn't forget something so major.

You sat in silence for a while as you took slow, deep breaths until you spoke again. Something clicked in your brain all of a sudden. “You were there that night weren't you?”

He didn't bother turning to you and just hummed. You turned to him instead. He was laying against the tree, eyes closed and arms crossed. He looked peaceful and the more you looked at his closed eyes the more the ache in your heart seemed to slowly return.

You turned your eyes away. “Why were you so irritated? I could feel it from miles away.”

“You were too loud,” he simply replied.

“What?” You were sure you hadn't uttered a word that night.

“Your prayers. They were too loud,” he added, noticing your confused expression.

“Oh.” He could hear you? Someone actually heard your prayers?

“Why are you staring at me like that?” His eyebrows creased, the more you looked at him. Why did you have that look in your eyes? Why did your eyes sparkle as if he’d done something no god has ever done.

“You listened.” That’s all you said but you didn't need to say more. The crease in his brow relaxed and that same unrecognisable emotion that he had whenever he looked at you showed up again. You wanted to figure out what it was.

Xiao seemed to act differently towards you, his actions screamed familiarity, as if he’d done this before. You wondered if perhaps you had met at some point of your travels. You reminisced of all the remarkable people you had met so far in your thousands years of life. Yet none of them were anyone resembling Xiao. You’d remember him if you’d ever met him.

Then again, you hadn't visited Liyue in 2000 years and from what Zhongli had told you, the yaksha had kept to his duties for just as long.

You opened your mouth to ask him -

“I apologise for my lateness.” Zhongli had appeared behind you with a tall ginger man in tow.

“Why is he here?” Xiao growled in annoyance as he got up from his place under the tree.

“Oh? Does it bother you that I'm here? Guess I'm gonna have a better time than I thought,” he chuckled lowly. Xiao seemed to want to pounce on him the moment he set his eyes on you, a glint forming in his eyes and mouth turning up into a smirk. “And who do we have here? What is such a pretty lady doing with a short adeptus and an Archon without a gnosis?” He took a step closer to you.

“Oh, I’m-” Before you could introduce yourself, Xiao had stepped in front of you, stopping the taller man in his tracks.

“She’s no one you have to concern yourself with.” Xiao almost growled the words out. You caught Zhongli’s eyes behind the ginger and he shook his head subtly. He didn't want this stranger knowing who you are.

“Hm. Well, I’m Childe but you can call me Tartaglia, pretty lady,” he winked at you.

“Rex Lapis, may I ask once again what is he doing here? I don’t remember you telling me he’s joining.” Xiao asked, still standing in front of you.

“It wasn’t exactly my wish either, but he overheard me telling Hu Tao I’m taking an indefinite leave and decided to follow me.” Zhongli sighed out, a hand on his forehead. “However, he can be useful. The lands beyond my adepti’s protection are dangerous. I don't have my full power back and Xiao’s collateral damage may show detrimental and attract unwanted attention.” Xiao huffed at that and turned his head away with a ‘tsk’. Zhongli was right.

“And what about you? Do you possess a vision?” Childe walked around Xiao in his state of distraction.

“Hm? Oh… uhm…” What were you supposed to say? You had to hide who you were from this strange man.

“She’s electro, now move.” Xiao had put a hand Childe’s chest to push him away from you again.

You didn't understand why Xiao’s was suddenly acting this way. Nor why he was protecting you so vehemently but you knew there was something he knew that you didn't. It was surely connected to that unnamable look in his eyes that he had only when he looked at you.

Zhongli spoke up in the middle of the tension. “I’m sorry for interrupting your chatter-” Xiao ‘tsk’ed again at the wording, “- but we must start moving if we want to reach our destination before the sun sets.”

And so you had walked half a day before the sun had started to set and Zhongli led you to a cave in the mountains, saying the group should rest here for the night.

You started a fire while Zhongli took out some food from a bag he carried.

“Since there is a human in our group, I have taken some rations for along the way,” he said but from the looks of the food in his hands, it just seemed like dishes from a restaurant.

“So, ojou-chan,” Childe took to calling you that at some point on your way, “Zhongli wasn't exactly clear as to why we’re going on this journey.”

“I’m looking for someone,” you replied. Zhongli took out a whole tea cup set and had started brewing a little bit of water over the fire.

“And who exactly is this someone?” Childe asked with a curious glint in his eyes.

You weren't sure if you could share with him so you looked over at Zhongli and then at Xiao, asking silently for approval. Zhongli didn't seem to be paying attention as he was too busy pouring tea in 4 small cups, but Xiao was intently staring at you and Childe over the small fire pit. As soon as you looked at him in question, he seemed to contemplate the answer in his head before he slowly nodded, eyes completely focused on Childe as you turned to him.

“I’m looking for a yaksha.”

“But you have one here?” He asked, his head turning to you in curiosity.

“There is another yaksha, a female. She’s…” you weren't sure how to continue without giving away what you weren't supposed to. “She’s a friend of mine that I lost a long time ago. Her tracks led me here in Liyue so that’s why I came and asked help from Zhongli.”

“And how do you know Zhongli?” He really was relentless, picking apart every sentence. Now you understood why Zhongli and Xiao didn't want you telling him exactly who you were.

You hadn't discussed this beforehand with Xiao and Zhongli so you didn't know exactly how to go about with your story. Were you going to play it off as a mortal or could you somehow weave some truth into your lie? You had to decide for yourself. You breathed out.

“I am not a mortal.” His eyes sparkled at that, a smile graced his features but it seemed dangerous in a way you couldn't describe.

“Oh? Is that so, Ojou-chan?” His voice held an interested lull to it.

“Don't get too excited. I am not an Archon. I am but a simple god with mere electro powers. If it wasn't for Zhongli who protected me during the Archon war I wouldn't have survived.” You weaved your lies easily.

The predatory look in his eyes told you enough as to why Zhongli and Xiao wanted you to hide the truth from him. He was dangerous in a sly way. He reminded you of a wolf that stalked their prey from afar, played with it to test its powers just to beat them down in an instant.

“So are you willing to help me find the yaksha?” You looked into his eyes with determined eyes.

“Very well, then. This should be exciting.” He said and drank the tea Zhongli offered him.

[troublesometrollhunters]

Zouxie (Zoe X Douxie)

Merry Christmas and Happy Secret Santa to a fellow T.O.A fan! For you @dreamsarelikedragonflies!!! You asked for any Wizards content particularly Zouxie or Jlaire so I wrote a little Zouxie Snow fluff thing and made a fun asesthtic for our favourite punk wizards! :D

~~~

 Douxies breathing was heavy as he rushed through the woods cutting through them to get to the park. Leaves brushed past him smacking his face as roots snagged at his shoes tripping him as he ran forward. His breathing came out in deep huffs as he raced to where he was heading.

  Archie who'd been on his shoulder had hoped off after the ravenette hadn't been careful and he'd gotten a faceful of leaves. The familiar was now flying next to his charge, avoiding difficult obstacles the forest provided as he weaved around the trees and low hanging branches. Douxie cursed at his own impulsiveness speeding up. She was gonna lose her cool one of these days and it was going to cost him his relationship. Archie seemed to always be warning him about how if he kept diving headfirst into danger especially on date night it was gonna bite him. Sadly the dragon was right as always.

   After closing down the café something had caught his eye and he had to investigate. Well together, Archie and him had found a growing nest of shadow mephits. They'd blasted the poor creatures apart, sending the whole nest back to the netherworld but it took way longer than expected. And now, now Douxie feared something far scarier. 

 He was late. He was late. He was late. He was late again and Zoe was going to kill him. Bursting out of the woods stumbling through a bush he catches himself. Dirt and leaves covered his hoodie making him hiss. Archie landed on his shoulder licking his hair grooming him and Douxie had no doubt that twigs were stuck in his ponytail. Sighing as Archie tried to clean him up he didn't care about appearances. It's not like Zoe did either, at the moment he was way more concerned with the time than his disheveled looks. Still heaving out air trying to catch his breath he paused to look around the clearing. Unable to speak full sentences yet he snaps his fingers pointing up.

 "Archie..." Douxie begs his friend and the dragon nods launching himself off the wizards shoulder. Looking around frantically for his pink haired girlfriend Archie soars above the trees searching for her as well. Distracted with finding her he didn't hear the footsteps sneaking up behind him. Stiffening as he feels a hard smack and muttering an owww, he turns quickly and sees her. It was Zoe.

  Relief crosses his features as he does his best to catch his breath so he can muster an apology. Opening his mouth she holds out a hand as she frowns at him. Her fingers are warm and looking at Zoe a spark of electricity zapped over his lips making him blush. He smiles but she's not in the mood. 

 "You're late." She states putting a hand on her hip and glaring up at him. Douxie chuckles nervously before swallowing at the intense look. He was happy Zoe hadn't gone home even if she was mad at him. If she'd left before he got to explain she'd be pissed for days. If he could get a word in hopefully she'd rage but then probably forgive him by tomorrow. The second option was more appealing but from the look on her face explaining could make the situation so much worse. Trying to think of what to say Douxie scratches the back of his head fishing out a stick from his ponytail. He tosses it aside and meeting Zoes burning blue eyes he blushes. 

 "I'm here now?" He asks with a playful laugh trying to lighten the mood but Zoe looks unamused. She flicks a leaf out of his hair and raises a brow scanning his messy form. "I can explain." He states defensively as he holds up his hands smiling at her.

 She rolls her eyes uninterested and begins walking away arms crossed.

 "Wait! Wait!" Douxie begs following closely behind as Zoe starts stalking away. 

 "Your burger was getting cold and I got hungry so I ate it." Zoe says pausing to vent her frustration. He notices a crumpled up bag sticking out of the nearby bin and sighs. He had a feeling she had waited way longer than usual if she dug into his food. Or maybe him being late made her spiteful so she tore into the burger trying to calm down. They weren't always the best at talking things out but they were working on it and honestly anything from her was a relief at the moment. As she huffed at him facing away from him arms crossed he signs. 

 "Zoe... Snow?" Douxies about to explain himself. Plead his case that a hoard of shadow mephits had jumped out at him after his shift and distracted him from coming but he noticed white flakes falling from the sky. As they landed the stark white against Zoes pink hair couldn't be ignored. What was snow doing in California? It was chilly sure but it wasn't even cold enough for his breath to show. How was there snow? 

 "What are you blubbering on about?" Zoe demands turning to yell at him some more. Her blue eyes flash pink as she glares at him about to give Douxie an earful but his own green brown eyes are soft as he steps closer. Zoes breath catches in her throat as Douxie stops in front of her. She looks up at him flustered before he reaches out. He brushes something out of Zoe's hair, his brows furrowed. Her flustered expression changes to shock, her eyes widening as she sees white flakes on his fingers before they melt away. 

 "... Snow?" She mumbles. Looking up the wizards noticed the night sky had become much darker as gray clouds rolled in. They'd been so distracted talking to each other they hadn't even noticed. It seemed someone had been messing around with weather spells, this couldn't be a natural snow storm. Not in the climate or this time of year.  

 "Well love we can argue later I think we have more pressing issues to deal with." Douxie states seeing that the flakes were getting thicker as the snowfall became heavier. The storm was fast approaching and there was a dark presence in the air. Hands glowing Douxie nudges Zoe behind him worried as Archie flies down. 

 per the dragon had perched on a nearby tree to give them some privacy but the snow brought him back. 

 "Yeah that's a no brainer fuzzbuckets. Now why the heck is there about to be a freak blizzard in California?" Zoe questions nose crinkling as she turns towards the storm clouds. She never really liked cold weather.

   The snow becomes heavier and soon the wind follows blowing endless white their way. Zoe shivers not dressed for this but Douxies attention shifts from her as Archie hisses lowly. His familiar had never liked snow either but seeing it was magically summoned and probably deadly put the dragon more on edge. 

 "What is it Arch?" Douxie asks softly. Archies claws dig into Douxies jacket as he tenses. He takes a deep sniff of the air before beginning to morph into a much bigger form, clinging tightly to Douxie. His hackles raise as he begins to hiss lowly tail swinging back and forth in aggression as his eyes narrow.

 "Ice giants." He growls.

 "Ice giants? Here?" Zoe questions unsure. Maybe it was just a freak snow spell?

 Suddenly a blue foot comes crashing down from behind a building rattling shop windows and making cars shake before their alarms go off. A creature of ice and snow it stood thirteen feet tall with a tattered kilt to cover it's blue tinted legs and a long icicle club.

 "Here." Archie responds hissing low in his throat. Everyone pauses watching as the ice giants begin to multiple as they walk towards them. At least the creatures were mostly away from people and in an open clearing, if they made a plan together they could take them down without causing too much damage.

 "Okay Zoe we need-" Douxie starts but she's not listening. 

 "Well let's do this!" Charging excited for a fight, electricity explodes from Zoe's hands as she shoots an ice giant in its chest. The pink lightning that explodes from her fingertips gives the park a bright glow before it zaps the giant making it crumble harmlessly into snow. Douxie shakes his head forcing himself to stop watching his girlfriend as another monster attacks and he follows Zoes lead.

 "Be careful love!" He calls worried but Zoe was doing just fine melting and exploding the giants. Snow rained down around her bouncing pink light off her face as she shot her magic. The beasts crumpled before her and Douxie was starstruck by her power and brute determination.  

 As he stares at Zoe enamoured Archie swipes at his face.

 "Pay attention to the battle Hisirdoux!" He scolds and Douxie nods. As Archie spits a fireball Douxie amplifies the spells power, melting several of the giants. Standing back to back with Zoe her hands glow pink as his burn blue. He looks at the frost creatures that were slowly surrounding them. 

 "Who could've sent them?" Archie asks as Douxie blasts one of them back. Zoe shrugs, zapping another giant that got too close. Icy wind blew back her hair and she hissed sniffling at the cold. 

 "Maybe they're lost?" Zoe asks before she gives Douxie a sharp shove and dodges a giant club. Douxie smiles at her happy for the save but Zoe ignores him. She shoots electricity at the ice monster that had tried to squish her and it becomes a flurry of snow as she breathes in. Taking that as a hint to find out what's happening and keep fighting rather than apologizing Douxoe noticed the creatures looked similar to golems which might explain why they collapsed into snow once struck. They didn't seem like snow spirits but rather controlled creatures. 

 "Maybe but it's more likely they were summoned!" Douxie responds. He taps his bracelet searching for another powerful fire rune hoping to burn them all down and be done with it. "Besides Ice giants don't like leaving their territory! Someone must of brought them here!" Well that's what he assumed at least. Last time he fought Ice Giants he was in Sweden a couple hundred years ago looking for some ancient texts. As far as he knew Ice giants never came out this far and they didn't just dissolve away like this.

 "DUCK!" Snapping back to attention Douxie huffs as he sees the crater that was almost him. Looking at Zoe wanting to apologize first for missing their date and now this mess she's already on the other side of the battle field trying to lead the ice creatures into the forest away from all the easily damaged park and innocent street shops. 

 "Zoe I-" He calls but she's only focused in the fight. 

 "Hisirdoux!" Archie calls and Douxie turns eyes wide. Bringing up his arms to defend himself unable to cast a shield in time, the hairs on his arms stand up. 

 "HEY! ONLY I GET TO HURT HIM!" 

A pink blast of 1000 volts of electricity were shot over Douxies head directly at the ice giants heart. The magic made contact and it exploded into a million pieces sending ice and snow everywhere. 

 "Thanks Zoe-" Douxie says smiling but Zoe isn't having it as she cuts him off. 

 "DON'T BE A DUMMY FOCUS ON THE FIGHT!" She orders before turning and facing the Giants that were slowly cornering her. Douxie nods. He turns towards his own foes and the fight goes on. 

~~~

About an hour later and they had won. The last few flakes of snow fluttered around them as the ice giants began to melt away. They didn't know who sent these creatures but they were taking care of themselves and nothing seemed to be amiss. Panting heavily Douxie smiled at Zoe who'd saved his ass during that fight more than once. 

 "I'd just like-" He starts wanting to apologize for all of this but Zoe wasn't having it. He guess he deserved the cold shoulder all things considered.

 "Hey dork?" Turning to face Zoe she grabbed his hoodie before pulling him into a kiss. Melting into it, like the snow was doing around them he leaned in cupping Zoes face. She smiles eyes tinged pink like her cheeks from the overuse of magic. Closing his eyes humming happily as he continues Zoe pulls away breathless. Laughing softly she leans into his chest hugging him tight and Douxie tucks her head under his chin as they take a moment to breathe.

  Pulling away far too quickly for Douxie's taste she smiles walking back towards the town. He blinks as he realizes the kiss was a distraction and she'd snagged his hoodie. "You're buying the burgers this time! I'm starving thanks to that little squable." She states taking out his wallet from his jacket pocket. Douxie shakes his head following after his mischievous girlfriend who'd seemed to forgiven him.

   Archie purrs looking up at Zoe and Zoe smiles scooping the familiar into her arms and cooing. "And your getting a treat for Archie too." She adds nuzzling the cat. Archie makes pleased sounds and curls up in her arms adoringly. Douxie chuckles smiling at Zoe as he follows her.

 "Deal. Oh and Zoe?" Zoe hums in response and Douxie steals a quick kiss on her cheek. "Love ya." He states before running off to where the burger shack was. 

 "WHY YOU LITTLE!" Chuckling as he keeps running he smiles, frostbitten but happy. He loved her more than she'd ever know. 

[dayseternal-blog]

i think im running out of naruhina fluff/smut. T-T. Can you help me out? hihi

 🔍

you think you can hide behind anonymous 🧐  I’m quite certain I know who this is haha 😘

And for you, dearest anon, have three completely unfinished, barely started wips (EVIL CACKLES BECAUSE THESE GO NOWHERE)

But actually, if any of these one-shot ideas catch your interest, please let me know and maybe I’ll actually try to finish one of them?

Smutty Soulmate AU, where you meet your soulmate in your dreams each night upon turning 20.

When her alarm jars her from sleep, she’s always only left with a feeling and flashes of color.  Today...she desperately tries to focus, to reach back, to remember…

Excitement.  Red.  Dark.

Her heart beats faster for reasons unknown to her, and there’s no point in trying any harder to slide the experiences of the soul into her brain.  After pointless meditation sessions, longer naps, and all manners of effort with dream diaries and online tips, she’s been resigned to the fact that only her other half can unlock that translation of dreams to memories.  She has yet to meet her soulmate in person.

Ever since her 20th birthday a few months ago, since that nerve wracking night of meeting her soulmate for the first time, going out has been a secret manhunt.  Eyes peeled to every single passersby over the age of 20.  Any one of them could be the person she’s spent the last 200 or so nights with.

So she dresses carefully for a day out with Sakura, Tenten, and Ino.  They’ll be going to the restaurant where Sakura’s fiance works his part-time job.  For all she knows, her soulmate might be there, too.

A guy?  A girl?  Her age?  Much older?  She has no idea what she’ll say to her soulmate, either.  But she imagines that when she sees them, it’ll be like a homecoming.  Planning is unnecessary, right?  When it’s someone you actually see every night?  If they didn’t like her, she can’t imagine why she would wake up every morning with so much residual happiness and longing.

-------------------------------------THAT’S IT @bunny-hoodlum

Ghost-Hunting (Obake Hunt) Comedy Modern AU, Naruto & co. visit a college at night for some scares that take an unexpected turn...

A shadowed driveway leads up the mountain toward the private college.

“Is this it?” Sasuke asks, peering out the car window.

“Yeah, turn here,” Ino instructs.  

“Okay, but why is the place even open at this time of night,” Sakura states, arms crossed with a skeptical expression as Sasuke drives the minivan through the gates, up the grand driveway.  The dorms for the college were built at a separate location down the main thoroughfare.

Ino shrugs.  “They have all kinds of events that go on at night.  I don’t know.”

“At least we know we’re not trespassing if the school’s open.”  Hinata’s soft voice comes over the back seat.  

“I still can’t believe we actually talked you into coming with us!” Ino teases.

Sakura laughs, “We’re having a bad influence on her!”

Hinata shakes her head.  “Actually, I’m amazed that Naruto-kun is here,” she shyly replies.

Sasuke lets out a quiet laugh.  “Doesn’t mean he won’t shit himself if we find a ghost.” 

“Okay!, no!, I won’t shit myself, alright?” he immediately defends.  “...I might just scream a little, but I won’t poop my pants…”  He’s already in a protective stance, arms crossed, back hunched a little.  

Everyone laughs at him, but Hinata takes his hand, smiling half-amusedly, half to comfort him.  “I’ll protect you, Naruto-kun.”

That only makes everyone laugh harder as Naruto sinks into himself in embarrassment.

Despite Ino’s school being open, the parking lot is somewhat empty save for a few cars.  The buildings are magnificent in design, echoing back to an era when arched entryways and stucco were favored over walls of glass.  The hum of cicadas pierce through the still, late summer air.  

The small group of friends silently follow Ino back toward the driveway of the school with only yellowed street lamps lighting the dark sidewalks.  They cross into the street, stopping right in the middle at the fancy traffic meridian.  It’s an odd decorative aspect of the driveway they passed on the way up.  It’s right in the middle of the street, separating the in and out lanes, somewhat built-up and rounded with a grassy patch and flowering bushes planted high on top.  It really only serves to make the school look expensive.

Ino smiles, then whispers, “Put your hand here on the wall.”

“Why?” Sakura asks, also in a whisper.  

“Just feel it.”  

They do, all of them placing their hands on the wall, waiting for something to happen.

“You see how the plaster is kind of rough over there?” she asks.

They nod, their fingers dragging over the rushed job.

“...This is an ancient burial ground,” Ino explains in a hushed tone.

Their hands spring off of the wall, their fingers wide in stress at what they were just touching.

“Ino, what the fuck?!” Naruto hisses, barely containing his volume, his legs already carrying him away from the meridian and onto the side of the street. 

Sakura stares at her hand wide-eyed.  “Oh my gosh, we’re all cursed,” she laments.  She can practically feel the spiritual energy twisting around her fingers. 

Ino snickers.  “That’s what my course major senpais did to me.”

Sasuke and Hinata are silently trailing after Naruto with abject horror on their faces.  Hinata fists her hand uncomfortably against her skirt.  

Once they’re all gathered safely away from the meridian, Ino continues to explain.  “When they were constructing, they found the remains of the ancient natives.”

“So they just built that random thing in the middle of the street to house the bones and then continued on their merry way?” Naruto asks for clarification.

Ino nods.  “After they found them, they built that wall around the burial ground, and apparently they were in a hurry to cover it back up.  They just made the driveway go around it.”

They stand there, staring at the burial ground, picturing the bones just on the other side of the wall they touched, below the grass and bushes.  

“Did you have to make us touch it, though,” Hinata asks, regretfully, with a really sad frown.

“The spirits of the ancient warriors are going to find me and kill me in the dead of the night,” Naruto states, as if it’s already fact.

Ino brushes his paranoia off.  “We’ll, I’m still here, aren’t I?”  

“Note to all of us--don’t do anything Ino tells us to do,” Sasuke says.

Ino gives him a very evil smile.  “That’s not all there is to this place.”

“Why...why am I doing this…” Naruto asks to no one in particular.

She leads them deeper into the center of the school, where a large tree spreads its thick limbs over a beautiful cobbled courtyard.  A simple fountain beneath the tree spouts water, and pennies shine beneath the surface of the circular pool.  The gurgle of the water as it falls is relaxing, serene in the quiet of the night.

“Wow, this is nice,” Sakura says, looking around at the manicured gardens surrounding the courtyard.  

Ino nods.  “A girl hung herself here.”

They turn their attention to the blonde.  Suddenly, the peace of the courtyard feels like an ill omen.

She tilts her head at the large tree.  “They say that when this used to be a mental hospital, a girl got away from her caretakers.  She was found hanging from this tree.”  

They frown at the branches, wondering which one the girl chose.

Ino gestures to steps that lead to an academic building.  “They said that at night, you could see her ghost walking and talking to herself in the corridors, always bringing herself to this tree.  Someone suggested to the school that they build this fountain here to give rest to her spirit.”

“So no one sees her ghost anymore?” Sakura asks. 

Ino shrugs.  “I guess we’ll find out…”

“What?”  Naruto scrunches a face of distaste.

“Let’s go,” Ino invites.  

“Go where…” he whines quietly.

Ino takes the disturbed group down the steps to the building.  “Hm, I wonder if it’s open…”  She pulls the handle.

The door opens.

“Whyyyy is it open…” Naruto groans.

“But actually, though, why,” Sakura states.

“Maybe the teachers are still here?” Hinata suggests.

Ino laughs.  “Psh, what college professor cares that much about their job?”  She holds the door open, inviting them into the building.  “Welcome to the language arts hall.”  

The corridor lights are all on, assuring them that the building is, indeed, open.

They enter the hallway.  Naruto lags behind.  When the door shuts, he opens it again.  “I’m just making sure…”  He tests the handle a couple more times before closing it.  Then he tests it once more for good measure.

“You satisfied?” Sasuke asks.

“I’m just making sure,” he repeats.  

Hinata frowns, imagining the door locking them in while they’re inside the building.  

Naruto’s paranoia is only making things worse.

Ino starts ahead of them, and Naruto has to rush to catch up.  “Wait for me!”

“SHHHH!!” Sakura scolds, finger to her lips.

They stand there, noticing how her shush seems to echo in the hallway.

“This place is really creepy,” Hinata comments quietly.

Ino shrugs.  “Only at night.  I had classes in this building in my first year.” 

“So this place used to be part of the mental hospital?” Sasuke asks.  

“Yeah,” Ino affirms.  She brings them to a classroom.  “You see how there’s this little window that you can use to look inside?”  

They nod, taking turns peeking into one of the dark classrooms.  It’s a normal room with normal desks.

“All of the rooms have this hallway window, you see?  It was so that the nurses could check on the patients.”

“Oh gods,” Naruto mutters.

-------------------------------------THAT’S IT

College Ballet AU, Naruto sees a different side of his quietly reserved friend.

It wasn’t a trick. 

Winter had dragged its sharp claws across the ground as long as it could, but finally, finally, three seasonal false-starts and numerous wilted, early-blooming daffodils later, 

Spring had finally decided to stay for good.

Trees bloomed pastel pinks instead of icy white.  New hopefuls popped out of the wet dirt, ready to face the sun.  Birds were suddenly a real thing again.  

Students strolled across the college campus in shorts and light sweaters, eager to shed the winter coats they had worn for six straight months.

And most importantly…

“The forecast is in the high 50s all week!” Ino announced as she pranced into the room, swinging her dance bag to the floor.

“Oh!!  Remember last spring we had class outside?” Sakura asked, turning her attention to their ballet instructor.

“Can we have class outside, Kurenai?” Ino pleaded, eyes wide in hope.

“Hm, the weather is nice today.  I suppose it is a shame to stay indoors on an afternoon like this,” she considered aloud.

Hinata listened with alarm.  She had never danced outside before, never in her 14 years of dancing.  Yes, she had danced on stage before, had performed in front of many strangers before, but still...  Everyone will see us, she worried.  

“I didn’t bring my speakers today, though,” Kurenai continued.

Before Hinata could feel any relief, Tenten pulled out her tech from her bag.  “You can bluetooth your phone to mine!”  

“Awesome, Tenten!” Sakura exclaimed.

“Oh, please, Kurenai?  Can we have class outside?” the other girls begged.

Hinata already knew her fate.  She was going to have to wear her body-conforming leotard and tights in front of the entire student body.  Nevermind the fact that the last time she had gone barefoot on grass was in elementary school.

They all picked up their belongings and made the quick trip to the center lawn.

As she predicted, many students who were already finished with their classes for the day were enjoying the afternoon weather, laying out in the grass reading or playing frisbee.  

And here they were, in their leotards and tights, about to have their whole ballet practice for all to see.  

“There’s so many people,” she whispered in embarrassment to Sakura.  

The pinkette looked at Hinata in confusion, then sympathy.  “Don’t worry.  Just relax and enjoy the sunshine!  It’s a lot of fun to dance outside.  It feels like…”  Sakura glanced up in thought.  “...Like freedom.  Or like...nature!”

Hinata took a deep breath and nodded.  She slipped off her sandals and lined up with everyone to begin their barre exercises...without a barre.  She spread her toes open to first position and settled her arms and hands into en bas.  

Already she could see curious onlookers watching them, and she could only thank the god above that they were having class in a corner of the field, and not front and center.  

Kurenai glanced over her dancers, noting their prepared positions.  She rattled off the instructions for their plie routine before setting up the speaker and scrolling through her phone’s music menu.

Familiar piano music rose into the air.  

More students glanced around.

Hinata tried not to think that all of their eyes were on her.  Because she knew, logically, that they weren’t all watching only her, but her heart just hadn’t been prepared for this sudden public display.

Eventually, with the right side completed and the combination repeated on the left side, Hinata began to feel less tense.

The students lazing on the lawn returned to their own devices, and only passersby watched as they headed to their destinations.  

She fell into the muscle memory of the exercises, and her focus turned inward on the flow of her arms with the music, of the dart of her toes with the beat, and the alignment of her body.  

It was like Sakura said.  There was a certain freedom she had never felt before in dancing barefoot in the grass under the Spring sun, turning, leaping, and reaching into the fresh air.  

[poptod]

Cambridge Ghouls: Tree Lights

Description: Christmas is a little confusing what with being a 4,000 year old mummy without translations, but that doesn't mean he can't enjoy it. Especially when it comes to you.

Notes: i officially LOVE this series cause i get to write about wacky misadventures for as long as i want and ALSO i get to practice my ancient egyptian! WC: 2.1k

part one

+

"Oven."

"Off-en.. I... what?"

"I told you not to teach him the words of things he doesn't know about," Amy deadpanned from her chair, turning the page of her book whilst quirking a brow in Ben's direction.

"How does he not know what an oven is?" Ben said, letting his picture cards fall in favor of crossing his arms.

"We told you this already, he's not from around here."

"What, so they just don't have ovens in Bolivia?"

"Jesus," Amy muttered under her breath, sucking in a sharp breath.

As usual, it was the middle of the night, and Ahk was curled up in a blanket beside the library fireplace. Tendrils of warmth licked up his bare legs and onto his face, soothing the ache of cold tension. Ahk, though listening intently to the conversation between Ben and Amy, understood little of it.

Ever since the start of the second semester, it had rained every day. Outside, the grassy fields were soaked in mud, lined by wet concrete and running students. All in all, not the best environment for a man of Ahk's tastes; someone who grew up in a half-desert. Fortunately his time was well taken up – with the start of the new semester, Phillip ended up signing onto a course about ancient Egypt, spending a good amount of time over break to delve into the language of hieroglyphs. Since he got back he'd been trying to communicate with Ahk, and to both their surprise, several of the attempts were successful. A new hope sparked for communication between the two worlds, a hope that Ben apparently adored to the point of buying children's flashcards.

Although Ahk would always be happy to spend his time learning, he worried for you. Just a little. After all, he always did in some way. You could be surprisingly fragile both physically and mentally. There was a time Ahk went out with Amy and Phillip to run a couple errands, only to return to you curled up in the corner and shaking, Rose sat dead still in her chair, and Ben nowhere to be seen. He hadn't been gone that long, but through your incoherent mumbles he uncovered you were scared. Scared he wasn't coming back. You had thrown your arms around him, pulling him into a tight hug he happily returned.

That was just you, though – a little clueless, incredibly sweet, and a tad helpless on your own. With Ahk caught up in his new lessons, you were left alone, something that always unsettled Ahk. There was no telling if you would be alright without him near.

From his seat at the fire, he could spy you through the stacks of books, curled up in the corner and playing with your own skin. You pinched it, rolling it between your fingers till it began to tear. He winced and looked away. Every now and then you did something of that ilk, something very zombie-like of you, and each time he had to look away. He never tried to stop you, though; he reasoned that you were in fact a zombie, and it was only natural you would do zombie-like things at least every now and then.

"Star," Ben said, pulling another card out of his deck, displaying the drawing of the night sky. He pointed to one of the bright dots, helpfully clarifying that it was about the light and not the sky itself.

"Star," Ahk returned, earning a bright grin from Ben. "Siba."

"No, star," Ben said again, pointing more aggressively at the card.

"I think he's trying to teach you the word for it in Egyptian," Amy said, not even bothering to look at either of them.

"If you have so many opinions on this, why don't you do it?" Ben snapped back. Amy's mouth fell open, offense heavy on her furrowed brow.

With a deep sigh, Ahk stood and left his place at the fire, blocking out the loud argument he only half understood, if that. Amy always took Ben a little too seriously, something Ahk knew to avoid the second he started understanding just how Ben's mind worked.

Sneaking quietly through the rows of books, he made his way to you, careful to not disturb any towers with his long cape. As usual you sat on the floor with your back pressed up against the corner, relaxed as you fidgeted absently with your fingers. Only when he approached you did you notice him, a soft, almost slack-jawed smile coming to you as he sat down.

"How are you feeling this evening?" Ahk asked you in his native tongue, fully aware you wouldn't understand or reply. Still, there was a sort of reaction evident on your frame, a movement that had him believing you understood at least the gist of his words.

You reached over, the slightest bit of color in your cheeks as you set your hand atop his, running your palm over the back of his hand. He furrowed his brow, but the confusion faded away when you began to pet him. You were reassuring him. For some reason.

"I really... I am sorry that you cannot join me, on this... venture. I do wish we could find a way to understand you, too. There must be something in your head," he said softly, eyes flickering between your hand on his and your downcast gaze.

A familiar silence came to the both of you when Ahk could no longer lament your lack of communication without repeating himself. As usual, you tried to speak with your actions, setting your legs criss-cross beneath you as you motioned him nearer. He shifted, unsure of your end goal until you gently grabbed his head and forced it onto your lap. His cheeks turned a pretty red as you did so. Yet he was always ready to please you; instead of pushing you away he made himself comfortable on the carpeted floor, breathing slow as you began to pet his hair.

You began to hum a song, incoherent and out of tune, in the soft, humming voice you were left with in death. Although it certainly didn't comprise of an actual melody, it was still nice to hear. Every now and then you'd hit a sweet note where the tune evened out, where your voice was best suited, and at each instance he fell deeper into your petting. Soon the arguing of Ben and Amy disappeared into the background, followed by the crackling of fire and the storming of raindrops outside. All that remained was you.

Ahk enjoyed his blissful ignorance for several more minutes until your strokes were abruptly interrupted by the sound of an opening door. Heavy boots fell on the wooden floors, alerting all five of you to a large pine tree being shoved through the doorway. His eyes widened as a particularly wide branch was shoved through.

Amy stood from her chair, passing by you and Ahk as she jogged over to the door.

"Ahk," she said, "an'na."

Come to me.

Reluctantly he stood, brushing the wrinkles out of his cape and skirt before he went to assist Amy, whose hands barely got a grip on the stump due to her being mostly incorporeal. Ben came by a second later, standing beside Ahk as the three of them all pulled on the stump in a single movement. With one good heave, the tree fell into the library, sending Ahk falling back onto his spine. He hissed instinctively, his hand going to rub at his back. The rain-heavy tree, once stuck in the doorway, now rested almost entirely on him.

Now that he could enter, Phillip tip-toed around the top of the tree to reach Ahk, easily lifting the weight off him with his super strength. Ahk didn't know what exactly Phillip was, but he had said he was a vampire – something Ahk knew nothing about. Maybe that was why he was so strong. Either way, it didn't erase the fact that Ahk was incredibly wet and bruised now.

Over the proceeding ten minutes the four shakily moved the tree to sit beside the fireplace, as all other spaces were already taken up by books and desks. Amy helped to stabilize it while Ben rushed away, in search of something Phillip told him to grab, which Ahk unfortunately couldn't translate in his head. Several questions blurred through his head – mainly questions as to why the hell they would want an indoor tree that would most certainly rot – but he found no chance to ask until Ben returned with a box of shiny, new ornaments.

He pulled Phillip aside, watching Amy and Ben hang the ornaments on the branches out of the corner of his eye.

"Why?" Ahk asked, one of the english words he made sure to remember.

"Uh..." Phillip paused for a moment, attempting to remember his classes, "Un.. neteru, ni peta."

For.. the god, in heaven.

"Ah," Ahk said wistfully, nodding in understanding.

Phillip smiled brightly at the successful communication before motioning him over, handing him a bright red ornament and a tiny metal hook. He glanced at his friends, each of them entranced with this strange worship, before he hung up his first ornament. Hopefully this wouldn't induct him into their religion.

"No," Amy said, pausing Ahk's movements, "make it – or, uh.. ieri nefer."

Make it pretty.

Ah. So this was an aesthetic thing.

With ornament in hand, he looked all around the tree, wondering where it would best fit in relation to both the branches and the other ornaments. Most of the little things hung on the tree were dolls of sorts – ceramic statuettes of animals and instruments, even humans.

A hand on his back startled his posture upright, eyes widening in surprise as he inhaled sharply. Another joined it, and warm fingers spread out to encircle his waist, followed by a cheek against his shoulder.

"Oh, Crayon," he breathed out, returning to his native language, "you startled me."

"Mmm," you mumbled, squeezing him tighter against you as your perpetually-tired eyes fluttered shut.

"Do you want to help out?" He asked softly, attempting to turn round to face you. Your grip proved his task difficult, but with a quick stop to hang the ornament, he was soon met with your head on his chest. A blooming feeling in his stomach spread warmth into his face. Of course it'd be you to bring a blushing warmth to his cheeks – not freezing rain nor well-lit fireplace. Just you.

Amy, currently floating near the top of the tree, held one of the many ornament boxes in her hand. Ahk only noted this once she began to drift down, holding out the box for Ahk to take another ornament. This time he took two – a bearded man in a red suit and a brightly colored icicle – and handed one to you. A small sigh left you, a clear indicator of your reluctance to separate from Ahk, but with his encouragement you did just so.

Together, the six of you (minus Rose, who was napping in her chair) set up all the ornaments on the tree, stringing up garland and fairy lights round the branches to let them glitter in the firelight. With Ben's attentive care, the fire was still roaring away in its' brick house, interrupted only by the worsening storm outside the windows.

As Ahk took your hand, Amy set out the record player and began the first of many songs he would most likely never understand. He could still enjoy them, though – there was a certain charm to them, a happiness clear in the garbled words and bright tune. Whether or not you understood them was a mystery, but you most definitely recognized them. Two seconds into the third song you began to hum the melody; a little out of tune as always, but still clearly the soft song on the record player.

Once again the world began to fade out a little, being replaced with your clouded eyes and sleepy hum. You sat in front of the fire now, leaned against the edge of a bookcase with a pillow behind you, and Ahk at your side. He scooted close to you – impossibly close – till your sides were pressed tight together and he could rest his head on your shoulder. A smile tugged at your lips as the quietest of giggles left you.

Ahk stared at the decorated tree, enjoying the strangely intimate happiness in his heart placed there by you and, undeniably, your group of friends. It was an odd celebration, but he'd be willing to be that if he started any of his own festivals, they'd be just as confused.

He tapped at Phillip's leg, drawing his attention away from his conversation with Amy.

"Ren?" Ahk asked, pointing to the tree again.

Name?

"Christmas," Phillip answered with a smile before promptly returning to Amy.

He turned up to you, shifting ever closer to your willing touch. There he nuzzled into you, his nose pressed up against your jaw as you smiled, staring at your intertwined hands.

"Happy Chriss-mas, Cray," he mumbled, his eyes drifting slowly shut.

[shiny-armin]

“Legend has it that a deep, pure affection filled this ancient garden, creating the Luhua Pool as it is known today.”

The two Gods of Geo and Dust took their daily nature stroll around their realms, until arriving at a waterscape with turquoise and yellow shades.

The goddess with sand coloured hair sure had wandered off this time. They used to take walks across the plains they ruled over, never venturing beyond what was usual to him. If offered a map, it would have taken a while for the Lord of Geo to find his whereabouts. Perhaps it wouldn’t have been that difficult, since they were approaching a vast and shimmering lake, which could be easily spotted on a map after all.

Anyhow, it was the first time he laid eyes on that waterscape and was enthralled by it right away. So enthralled, he hadn’t noticed his horns getting entangled in a tree. He yanked his head free, earning a shower of leaves. Guizhong turned around at the creaking sound, and chortled when she discovered her friend grimacing as he shook off the foliage.

“Not even Moon Carver has as much trouble as you do where trees are concerned,” she teased with a grin, resuming her walk. The taller Archon only sighed at her words, since it happened more frequently than he would like to admit. It was true that the stag Adeptus, despite his large antlers, didn’t struggle while walking through the mountain forests, unlike him. In his defense, the Geo Archon had the greatest stature out of all of the Adepti, but he could shrink to a human-like size if desired. Amidst nature, he didn’t bother to adopt a less threatening appearance, and he took pride in his golden horns, too.

They made their way down through the rocky hillside. Although the land was deserted and swallowed up in the undergrowth below ginkgo trees, there was a clear trail among the wildness. A trail made by something, or someone, who certainly frequented the place.

“It is plain to see you’re acquainted with this area,” the dragon Adeptus pointed out, his eyes observing how the fabric of her coral coloured hanfu brushed over the vegetation as she walked.

“Oh? Yes. In fact, under this lake lies the entrance to a secret sanctum of mine. Not so secret anymore, for you already know,” she gave a sly chuckle, while pointing at a ring of stone where pillars gathered around in the middle of the lake. “My research hideout of preference, as I like to call it.”  

The man’s eyebrows shot up in intrigue, wondering if that was where she ran off to whenever she was out of sight. Sometimes, Morax didn’t set foot in their residence for days, but that didn’t startle the Goddess of Dust in the slightest. Eventually, he would show up with a blank but bloodied face, framed by branches, foliage and other gifts of nature dangling from his contorted horns. Often, he would also bring some weapon snatched from the dying enemy’s hands, as a present for his dear goddess. She would describe him as a lead wolf returning to his pack after hunting the meal of the day. “Is this device of your liking, Guizhong? ” he would ask. With concern written all over her face, she’d chide, “What on Earth have you done this very time? ” and after caring for his wounds, she would passionately unravel the war artifact and use it as inspiration for future inventions of her own.

Other days, it was all the way around. Guizhong disappeared, not before leaving a reassuring note on a table, since Morax would be the one to silently panic due to his overprotective nature.

They left the lush greenery behind to walk on white sand, their shoes sinking in the shore. “I see, this is where you are always scheming and plotting behind my back,” he said, not a sign of resentment in his voice.

“My dear Morax,” she laughed. “I have the urge to always keep my mind full. Can you blame me?” There was no answer from him, he just kept walking beside her like an overly attached guardian. She averted her amber eyes and fixed them on the crystal clear water. “Actually, I had some plans for this place.”

“Plans?” the man inquired, looking at her with interest. She spun and glanced at a clear spot among the wild grass, and with a swift movement of her hand, lines were traced at her will across the soft dust. A scale-like pattern appeared on the ground.

She sighed in resignation. “I wish to shape the lake this way, however…” she bit her lower lip. “Stirring up dust and sand is never sufficient, it seems.”

The God of Geo set his piercing eyes on the lake which spread before them and crossed his arms, eyebrows knitting together in thought. The ground under their feet began to tremble ever so slightly, then a wall of stone emerged from the shallow waters, creating a miniature dam.

From the corner of his golden eye, he saw his friend’s face light up like a firework. “Oh my! That’s splendid, I cannot believe I had not thought of you for this task earlier,” she exclaimed, hands clasped together while admiring the work she had yearned to accomplish on her own. Alas, she was not a powerful goddess, but she made for it in brilliance. That lack of strength, plus her sympathetic nature, allowed Guizhong to understand and feel closer to human beings.

The rigid Lord of Stone, on the other hand, struggled to find even a single trait that could put him and mere mortals on the same level. It was not as if he despised them, on the contrary. He just never seemed to figure out their motives and ambitions. Hence, he admired how his long-time friend could blend in the common folk, leaving her godhood behind to seem as one of them.

“All you had to do was ask,” he said in a calm but firm voice, arms crossed while drumming a finger on his sleeve.

“Hmm… Do you think you could make some more for me, oh, Great God of Stone?” she asked with a playful smile, some dimples making an appearance on her face.

The man answered only with a low hum of acquiescence. The Lord of Geo would not take orders from anyone other than Guizhong, although it had been a long way since he had come around to listen to her demands. He had forcibly found out that good things came to him – to them – whenever he acted as she wished. She was a far-sighted and wise woman, after all.

He then spread his arms, the long sleeves of his hanfu and untied hair fluttering in the late spring breeze. The ground rumbled once again, and all kinds of lifeforms – terrestrial, aquatic, or flying – fled from their nearby shelters. The crystalline waters sloshed about, new rock walls appearing on the surface next to the already created pool.

“Oh… Try to move that one… a little to the left,” she said, a crooked finger on her chin. He then proceeded to do as she had said. Several scale-shaped pools piled up in different levels, adding to the tranquil beauty of the lake. “Good, good.” A smile of satisfaction appeared on her rosy lips.

When it came to her and their people, but especially her , the savagery and ruthlessness that characterized the renowned God of War disappeared, becoming relatively meek and indulgent instead. And yet, he would not let it completely show in front of their worshippers, coming off as distant and indifferent about many matters, which Guizhong took over. All in all, both gods were equally loved since each one took care of the village in their own way. As if it were their child, Morax provided the Guili Assembly with unwavering protection and stability, while Guizhong nurtured it with wisdom, values, and affection. Both of them took great pride in seeing how their creation blossomed into a lively city.

“What is its purpose?” His draconic eyes searched for hers, sparking with curiosity.

She arched a confused eyebrow. “Purpose?”

“The pools.”

Upon hearing his answer, she couldn’t help but let out a laugh. His obliviousness was entertaining at times. She loved seeing his puzzled expression whenever she talked about the most mundane things. “Purpose! They don’t have one. Well, except for visual aesthetic, of course,” she explained, linking their arms together and admiring the landscape.

“What you mean is… They are supposed to be beautiful, and naught else?” he asked once again, the lower tips of his dark hanfu soaking on the shore.

“Is being merely beautiful not enough for you, Morax?”

“I suppose not. I think everything should have a deeper meaning.”

She chuckled. “Well then. You appreciate flowers almost as much as I do. How can you explain them?”

His forehead furrowed in confusion, as if she had given him a riddle to solve. “Flowers,” he began with his deep voice. “Are not there just for their beauty. They feed animals and humans, and some of them have a commercial interest, such as for creating perfume. Moreover, you like to play with them and put them in my hair. They have a further purpose.”

She shook her head, fair locks blowing in the breeze. His opinions were as immovable as the boulders he created, and could only be eroded with continuous discussion. “Morax, your stubbornness is as limitless as Barbatos’ wine supply. Let’s just accept these pools are beautiful and nothing more,” she said, a warm smile tugging at the corners of her lips. As much as she enjoyed their lengthy debates about the world, she knew when it was pointless to push further. Someday, he would appreciate things just the way they were, without looking for any logical explanation. Someday. “Now, what shall be your reward for this marvellous job? Let’s see…” She shifted her weight from one leg to another, still grabbing his arm and a thoughtful expression on her face.

“You are not to reward me, Guizhong. It is my greatest joy to do you a favor. We are committed to helping one another in our weaknesses,” Morax declared, mentally revising the first contract to ever be made on that land.

“Do you need me to file down your horns?” she suggested, purposely ignoring what he had said. The man refused her offer with a shake of his head.

“I can take care of it on my own,” he answered with a half-smile. She hummed pensively.

“Oh, I know. You will pay me a visit to the Realm of Clouds. I will show you my weapon collection,” the Lady of Dust gushed excitedly, her amber eyes shimmering with anticipation while tugging at his arm. Morax shifted a slightly surprised gaze to his friend as they started to walk back.

“Am I allowed to enter?” he asked, a sheepish yet small smile touching his lips. He felt happy he could get to see the place where she created all these sophisticated gadgets, where her beautiful mind was unleashed.

She pondered with a long hum, teasing him with all that hesitation. “Hm… Just this time, I suppose. We do not want you swishing your tail around my exhibition tables,” she joked with a coy grin, but he couldn’t see it as she was walking in front. The God of War peeked at his rear, suddenly self-conscious.

“I… I have got no tail at this time. I will not hurt anything, upon my word,” he promised a bit crestfallen by her accusations.  

Guizhong pivoted on her heels and stretched her hands to cup his face, catching him off guard. She had an expression of fondness on her face. “I know you will not. You can come whenever you please. You can even help me, too.”

He cherished her so, so much. But he would not say it. Sadly, he didn’t know how much he would regret all these unsaid words centuries later. He took her hand in his, her clothing then matching the color of the evening sky. They skirted the shore until Guizhong’s secret palace, their most recent joint creation lying peacefully behind their backs. The Luhua Pool.

A/N: not me creating even more Liyue lore!! Btw, that quote in the summary is from the game itself, the Luhua Pool viewpoint description /cries/ I hope you enjoyed it.

[carloswilliamcarlos]

Clyde Logan, Cryptid Hunter (Clyde Logan x Reader)

Warnings: Kissing, mothman mention, gratuitous roadtripping

Words: 1.4k

AN: Will this become a cryptid themed chapter fic? Who knows!!! But yes.

You went looking for Mothman on your first date. How could you not? This was West Virginia, after, all. It wasn’t no joke. 

“I seen him,” Clyde tells you as you sip your drink at dinner. You wait a beat for him to laugh, to elaborate, to backpedal. But all you see are honest eyes and a downturned, sincere pout.

“What?” you ask.

“My siblings and I took a trip through Point Pleasant out of curiosity, a few years ago. And we saw him. Up in a tree.” 

Clyde gestures upward as if to point him out, right there in the restaurant. You follow his hand up with your eyes. The gesture is pure muscle memory, nothing he could fake. You trace back down along his long, strong arm and catch his gaze. 

“Clyde,” you say a mischievous smile creeping up your lips.

His eyebrows raise. He’s sure you’re about to tell him he’s a fool. 

“We have to go. Now.”

**********************************************

It’s a two-hour drive, one you never would’ve taken on a first date if you hadn’t been friends with Clyde for years. The moon shines bright with an ancient glow as you pile into Clyde’s car, pull up Google maps and hit the road. 

Clyde’s prattling off instructions for you at first.

“We need to be as quiet as we can, cause he likes to make these chirping sounds we gotta listen for.”

You nod, amused smile still pulling at your lips. 

“And he’s got these red eyes that reflect. That’s what most people see of him.”

“What do we do if we find him?” you ask, turning to study the adventurous gleam in Clyde’s eye.

“Well... I don’t know,” he frowns. “I think most people just run away.”

“We could ask him to officiate our wedding,” you suggest. Clyde glances over at you for half a second, just to judge how serious you are, then turns back to the road with reddening cheeks and his mustache twitching up playfully.

“Alright.”

The rest of the drive, you run through urban legends and share whether or not you think they’re real. Clyde believes in just about all of them, you learn. Ghosts, yes. Jersey devil, yes. Aliens, yes. Bigfoot, no. (”That’s just a couple of yahoos with a video camera and a leftover gorilla costume from Halloween.”)

He definitely believes in luck. You’ve known about his Logan family curse theory for years, of course, but you never realized just how deep it ran for him until you’re barreling down the highway the radio twanging softly between you. 

“My mama gave me the ring,” he says, wiggling his fingers so the horseshoe glimmers in the moonlight. “She said if I kept it angled up toward me, it would catch all the luck to keep me safe. She was the only one who took me seriously about it all.”

You’re quiet then, letting Clyde share something with you he’s only told few souls on this earth. 

“And supposedly when I find someone I want to share my luck with, I’m supposed to turn it around so it points it toward them, to protect them instead.”

You stare down at the ring, at Clyde’s fingers nervously gripping and releasing the steering wheel.

“So you haven’t found the right person yet?” you ask, tentatively planting a seed.

“I need all the luck I can get,” Clyde laughs nervously, then clears his throat. “But I can see loving someone so much I feel brave enough to share.” He shifts in his seat. “Someday.”

“Someday,” you smile. Clyde twists the ring back and forth with this thumb, loosening it ever so slightly.

********************************************

Your car door shuts with a slam behind you as the early fall wind brushes your skirt. The forest before you stretches out, dark, dense, dangerous. Clyde’s massive frame walks up beside you, the car lock beeping with a thrilling sense of finality. 

“You ready?” you ask, looking up at Clyde’s serious pout. He nods, holding the crook of his arm up for you to hook yours into.

A twig snaps under you shoe only a couple steps in, and Clyde jumps to the high heavens. 

“Clyde,” you laugh, “are you scared? We don’t have to do this.”

“No, I ain’t scared,” he replies, straightening up, trying to convince himself more than you. “Now we gotta listen for chirps.”

“Chirps,” you echo in a whisper, eyes scanning all around you. You hear buzzing, croaking, light flaps of wings, rustling leaves, but no chirps. The atmosphere is ominous, neither of you speaking a word. The reality you’re alone, at night, in the wilderness, starts to set in. 

“OK now I’m scared,” you confess, curling into Clyde’s side.

“I got you,” he speaks confidently, voice deep and steady. He’d never admit he was scared out of his jeans just seconds before, but now that you’re trusting him, now that you’ve deemed him your protector, now that you’re counting on him to keep you safe from whatever’s lurking in the woods... Well. He’s sure feeling brave right about now. 

“Now what were you gonna ask him? Maybe he’ll answer a question,” Clyde prompts you. You clear your throat. 

“Mr. Mothman,” you call, voice shaking. “Well, Mr. Man. Man, comma, Moth,” you stumble. Clyde chuckles. “My fella and I were wondering if you maybe wanted to marry us, someday, if you’re not busy, and if you, speak English.”

Clyde’s grinning from ear to ear now, thoroughly amused by you. “We’d appreciate it kindly-” he goes to say, but he stops cold, looking off to his left. He says your name abruptly. You turn to look where he’s looking. 

An enormous pair of red eyes peers at you through the trees. 

You squeeze Clyde’s arm. 

Time stands still. 

You take a slow, deep breath. 

“We’re thinking a June wedding,” you yell, and suddenly a flurry of flapping wings surrounds you, branches beating against the wind, high-pitched wailing filling your ears. You’re not sure if it’s the mothman, you, or Clyde that’s screaming. All you know is you’re sprinting back to the car, yelling Clyde’s name over and over. 

You make it out of the trees before him, just in time to whirl around and catch his hair blowing in the wind as a huge, dark figure ascends above the forest and flies away into the darkened sky. 

You and Clyde stare at each other, frozen. 

“Was that...” you start. Clyde nods. 

You’re not sure what to say, do, think. 

“Get in the car,” Clyde finally commands.

It’s not until you’re both sitting in the car that you burst into roaring laughter. 

“Holy shit!” you yell. “Holy shit Clyde we just saw mothman!”

“God damn,” Clyde mumbles as you laughter finally subsides. “We really did.”

You turn to look at him, leaning your head against the headrest, admiring the goofy smile on his face. He turns to look at you. You suddenly can’t breathe. 

“I’ll never tell anyone if you don’t,” you whisper. The air is electric, moonlight outilning Clyde’s every feature in silver. 

He reaches up to gently stroke your cheek, leaning in closer and closer until all you can do is close your eyes and feel him. 

“Secret’s safe with me,” Clyde breathes. “Until he shows up at our wedding, of course.”

And then he kisses you. 

He kisses you so softly it feels like a dream. But then it’s deeper, and deeper, his lips growing more confident and hungry. He slides his tongue against yours and you taste how much he wants you, likes you, can’t get enough of you. 

He finally pulls back and looks deep into your eyes, turning every cell in your body into a puddle.

“It’s a long drive home...” you say hesitantly. “And it’s late. What if we just... got a room here tonight?”

Clyde gulps, nods, coughs out a quick “yes” and is starting up the car faster than you can even giggle at his reaction.

Hours ago, you’d been swiping on eyeshadow, picturing all the ways the night would end. You’d wondered if he would kiss you when he dropped you off at home. Wondered if you’d both have realized you had no chemistry at all. Wondered which face mask you’d indulge in before you tucked yourself into your bed alone.

Never did you imagine you’d end in Point Pleasant, doing what you were about to do, sharing a hotel room hours away from home, having an encounter of mythic proportions with a massive legend you had to see to believe. And then there was mothman. 

But that was the thing with Clyde, you realized. You never knew what to expect. And you had a feeling that, no matter how many adventures you’d be lucky enough to share with him, he’d never stop surprising you.

[yehet-me-up]

Brought To Light

Pairing: Mark Tuan x reader 

Genre: Friends to lovers, fluff

Rating: (PG13) 

Word count: 3,177 

Summary: On a friends weekend to an AirBnB in the woods for a scary movie marathon you end up getting much, much closer to your best friend than you thought possible. 

You stare up at the part-creepy part-charming AirBnB in front of you. ‘This is a terrible idea, Mark.’

Your best friend slings an arm over your shoulder and grins at the ancient Victorian mansion with pride. ‘No way. This is going to be perfect.’

As if it can sense your unease the wind kicks up, swirling the late Autumn leaves around your ankles. ‘We’re all going to die, guaranteed.’

Mark strides forward and you wrap your arms around yourself in the chill. Lifting a brick on the railing he finds a key. ‘You’ll see,’ he says with a grin.

The sound of car doors slamming makes you turn. ‘Hell yes! This is awesome,’ Jackson yells, stoked as always.

You sigh and hitch your duffle bag over your shoulder and follow Mark up the creaking steps. The rest of the group files in around you. When he first proposed the idea of a weekend getaway to binge spooky movies and party in the woods, you were, admittedly, drunk. It sounded like a fantastic idea. Mostly because you’ve been in love with him since, oh, forever.

But now that you’re here, you can feel the distance. To the left is the long, tree-covered lane that lead you to this old house. To the right is a private beach. Even if it wasn’t October it wouldn’t be an appealing place to swim. It’s all jagged rocks and aggressive waves.

‘Fantastic,’ you say to yourself.

Things go surprisingly fine for most of the evening, despite being inside what feels like Amityville Horror house. You all pick rooms. Jackson and Bambam draw the shortest straws and have to share. Fortunately, or unfortunately given your enormous crush on your best friend, the two of you end up in side-by-side rooms in the attic with a bathroom in between.

The owners really did a wonderful job updating the house to rent it out. Enormous flat screen TV, comfortable couches, huge kitchen, modern appliances, and nice decor. From the inside it doesn’t scream ‘you’re going to be woken up by someone with a chainsaw.’

You all make pizzas and settle in for Paranormal Activity. Bambam sprawls out on one of the beanbag chairs on the floor, followed by Yugyeom on the other. While they’re arguing JB claims the plush recliner on the far side of the room by the windows. Jackson lays across the entire sofa with a wink and Youngjae shoves him off, screaming dramatically. Jinyoung rolls his eyes and sits on one end, calmly eating his pizza while the chaos unfolds.

Mark shakes his head and laughs, leaning against the wall that divides the kitchen from the living room. He catches your eyes and shrugs in amusement. A lock of his hair falls across his forehead and you wish you could reach across the room and brush it out of the way. It would be harmless, you think, to make him sit next to you on the couch. You’re always together, anyway. And he’s a huge scaredy cat, so he always clings to you during horror movies.

But just as you’re sitting on the far end, Jackson and Youngjae resolve their fight and sit down next to you. You sigh, watching Mark move to the only open space between Jackson and Jinyoung. He gives you a look and pouts. You might be imagining it, but you would swear that he’s sad about it too, and not in a teasing way.

He chooses the movie and you shove a slice into your mouth to take a big bite. Of course he’s sad. You’re his best friend, that’s all. It doesn’t mean anything.

The sun sets somewhere between Get Out and A Quiet Place. 

The massive bags of popcorn are made and consumed. Youngjae’s stash of Junior Mints is discovered and he reluctantly shares with the rest of the group. He sprawls out on the thick ivory carpet after, hugging a pillow to his chest and complaining of a stomach ache.

JB falls asleep and doesn’t wake up even when Jackson screams his head off when the first monster appears to threaten John Krasinski and Emily Blunt. He jumps on top of Bambam, clinging to him and nearly popping the beanbag chair. 

You look across the now empty expanse of couch between you and Mark at the exact same moment he does. You definitely don’t miss the interest in his look this time and awkwardly push your hair behind your ear, turning away so he won’t see your blush.

Before you can think about moving closer to him or somehowkindofmaybe asking if he wants to move next to you, he takes care of that for you. He cradles the large bowl of popcorn in one arm and slides stealthily into the spot Youngjae had occupied. He gives you a small shy smile in the flickering light from the TV.

You should look away. You should break eye contact, immediately. You should stop having ridiculous thoughts about closing the distance and kissing him. But you don't, and Mark doesn't either. Heat blooms in your chest and you bite your lip to stop from giving him a giddy look.

Luckily, Yugyeom's stomach growls loudly and everyone pauses the movie and starts making their way into the kitchen to pull out the beers and packs of sushi you got from the store and piled into the fridge. Mark laughs quietly to himself and stands up. As always, he holds out a hand to help you up. His fingers normally slip from yours as soon as you're on your feet. Normally, he'd release you and step back before following the group.

Outside the wind picks up, slapping branches from the enormous trees on the back yard against the floor to ceiling windows. The rain starts a moment later, loud and demanding, but still you don't look away from the emotion in Mark's eyes that you can't read. Or maybe you’re just too afraid to let yourself consider what it might mean.

You want to blame it on the house, or on the horror movies, or on the playful atmosphere of the night. But there's no way you can reconcile your sarcastic best friend with the man who keeps you close, who looks down at your lips for a fraction of a second. It's disconcerting in the way seeing a shooting star is thrilling - an unexpected event that knocks you off your center and makes you believe in miracles.

He holds you to him in the empty room for a beat before turning and guiding you into the kitchen. It's only when the two of you round the corner that he removes his hand from yours. You excuse yourself to the bathroom while the guys divvy up the chopsticks and argue about who gets the sashimi.

You can still feel Mark's eyes on you as you shut the door. Leaning forward, you rest your hands on the vanity and groan at your reflection. Not only is your blush incredibly obvious but there's a piece of popcorn in your hair from when Bambam started trying to see how many he could throw onto JB before he woke up. The answer was 27.

With shaking hands you fix your hair and smooth a finger under your eyes to remove any mascara that's strayed over the course of the long day. You straighten your shirt and blow out a big breath, laughing to yourself quietly. You wonder when you started to be so affected by him.

Always, if you're being honest. 

Since the first time you met in ninth grade Biology, you've been friends. Just friends, unfortunately. He never saw you as anything other than a buddy. Someone to play Super Smash Bros with and go to late night Marvel movies and study for exams over bowls of his dad's famous kimchi stew. Your friend groups merged and became a Frankengroup of ten, including Amelia and Bree who had a concert downtown they couldn't miss tonight.

You've always been... just friends. Even in college when you were in Seattle and he stayed in LA, you kept in touch. You'd always thought that the feelings were one-sided and that was that. You've dated and had a boyfriend for the first year after you moved back to California. It wasn't like you were waiting for him or anything, but the question of 'what if?' has always lingered in the back of your mind.

And now he's looking at you like he wants more. You wet your hands and press them to your feverish neck and tell yourself you're imagining things. 

'Don't read into this,' you whisper to yourself sternly in the mirror.

By the time you emerge they've all re-settled on the couches. Mark is where he was when you all got up, guarding an empty spot on the end of the couch next to him. He raises a brow when he sees you hesitate and looks to the spot before looking back at you, as if to dare you to try and sit somewhere else and avoid him.

JB and Jinyoung are debating between Hush and Midsommar and you weave your way around everyone on the floor and sit defiantly next to Mark. He grins, smug, and hands you a plate and some chopsticks. Eventually they settle on Hush and start the next movie.

When you're both finished he gathers your plates and sets them on the floor, safely out of reach of Youngjae's screaming and flailing limbs. Then, as though it were the most natural thing in the world, he puts an arm around your shoulders. You blink, determined to keep your eyes on the screen. It's too much for your imagination to handle in the moment and you freeze.

'Are you okay? he whispers against your ear in a low voice. 'Is this alright?'

You shake yourself and tell yourself to just enjoy whatever touchy mood has come over him. Why not store up moments like these to remember later on when you're back to being just friends? You nod and follow his lead, tucking your legs up on the couch next to you and leaning more firmly against him. He sighs and relaxes, his arm sliding down to rest gently on your waist.

It's after ten when the credits roll and your eyes are definitely starting to droop from sleepiness. Given the loud snoring from the opposite end of the couch you gather that this time Jinyoung is the one who's fallen asleep. Jackson and Bambam fight over the remote and you groan at the noise, burrowing farther into Mark's chest. You'd swear his hand runs along your hair, but before you have time to examine it further the lights in the house abruptly go out.

The kitchen goes dark along with the lights on the porch and the TV displaying the Netflix menu.

'Oh my god, we're going to die!' Youngjae screams loudly.

‘Calm down,’ JB sighs.

There's a lot of scuffling and groans as people bump into each other before JB finally locates his phone and turns on the flashlight. It swings towards Yugyeom, Youngjae, and Jackson tangled on the floor, over to Jinyoung who lifts a hand against the light, to Bambam who is somehow clutching an umbrella by the door and looking ready to attack.

When JB stands the light flashes across you and Mark and suddenly you’re wide awake. You press your hand to his thigh for balance and try to stand before the guys can see how close the two of you got during the movie. You end up tumbling to the floor. Thankfully the beanbag Bambam vacated softens your fall and you press your hand to your chest and laugh.

More of the guys locate their phones and turn on the flashlights. JB wipes a tired hand down his face and mumbles about looking for the breaker box. Yugyeom and Bambam hold onto each other as though they expect an axe murder to leap out. They scramble after Jinyoung when he says he’s going to check as well.

Youngjae and Jackson sit on the floor with their backs to the couch. ‘We’ll stay here, you know, just in case it comes back on,’ Jackson says with a nervous smile.

You roll your eyes and reach for Mark’s hand, not letting yourself think twice about it. ‘We’re going to go look for some candles.’

He twines his fingers with yours, grasping so his warm palm presses firmly. You hear Yugyeom whining from the attached garage and shake your head.

‘I think he might die of fright before anything else,’ Mark laughs. His voice is close behind you as you feel your way up the stairs in the dim light from his phone.

‘I know, right?’

It feels good to laugh with him. This, at least, is familiar ground. Whatever you were hoping to figure out up here away from the group - that is far less easy to handle.

You find some candles easily on the ledges of the oversized tub in the bathroom you share with Mark. Thankfully, you’d remembered correctly seeing some when unpacking your toiletries. Otherwise he might think you just wanted to get him alone. That would be crazy, right?

A lighter sits on the floating shelves above the toilet and you carefully arrange the candles on the sink and light them. With one hand. Since for some reason the two of you can’t stop touching each other.

When a warm glow fills the space he turns off the light on his phone and slides it into his back pocket. Even the distant noise from your friends isn’t enough to disturb the quiet at the top of the house. He stands close enough that you can feel his breath against your face.

Distracted by the way the candlelight plays with his deep brown irises you forget to feel nervous. It’s almost as if the two of you have always been like this. He always holds your hand. The two of you have always been together, unable to stop looking at each other like your eyes hold the answer to a thousand questions. When he kisses you your eyes always flutter close as you wait for his lips on yours.

Wait - his lips? You open your eyes just as his mouth grazes yours. He pulls back at your surprise.

‘Shit, sorry, I -’ he runs his free hand through his hair and huffs out a laugh. ‘I don’t know what I was thinking.’

You recognize the uncertainty and fierce delight in his eyes because they mirror the feelings in your heart. ‘No, don’t. It’s fine, really.’ Even though your voice is high with nerves your words are steady and sure.

Tightening your grip you lean forward and briefly press your lips to his. It’s not a proper kiss, not by far, but it’s an invitation. You stand strong, composed of reckless hope and a wanting for him that feels explosive in your chest. He pauses, adorably confused.

His brows come together and he presses his lips together in an endearing smile. ‘Do you… want me to kiss you? We’re - I mean - ‘ he laughs. ‘We’re best friends, I don’t want to ruin anything.’

You come closer, fitting your body against his. With your free hand you feel his heartbeat, pressing your palm to his clothed chest. The rhythm is frantic beneath your fingers and you clench the fabric in your fist. He wants you, just as much as you’ve always wanted him.

‘I’m sorry,’ you tease, swallowing a grin. ‘Were you not clear about what I just did? Should I do it again?’

Relief washes over him, turning the vulnerability in his eyes into something much warmer and more determined. ‘I think you should. You know, just for science.’

You laugh, tipping your head back. When you look back to him his arm goes around your waist, holding you close against him. He drops his head and seals his mouth over yours. Though you both tease each other normally, the kiss between you is soft and new.

Someday you might grip his hair and push him against the sink to taste his neck. But for now the two of you stand, holding each other in the middle of the candlelit bathroom. Your clasped hands are trapped between your chests and you know he feels your heart racing for him as well.

The triumphant yelling that comes thundering up the stairs along with the sound of hurried feet lets you know something has changed. It reaches your kiss-drunk mind slowly, as though you were underwater. It would be fair to say you’re drowning in the sensation of Mark’s tongue along yours and honestly you can’t be bothered by the outside world.

But then - 

‘OH SHIT, WHAT?!’ 

‘No friggin’ way!’ 

Someone wolf whistles and you would bet it was Bambam.

You pull back, blinking in the overhead lights, to see the collected group of guys hilariously crammed into the small landing at the top of the stairs. They all gape at you and Mark. His arm around your waist, your hand fisted in his shirt that’s now tugged almost clear off one shoulder. Your hands and his lips red from kissing and oh god.

Mark looks as alarmed as you feel at having your entire friend group know how you feel about him. And before you’d even talked about anything or decided on what the hell this means. You start to panic He doesn’t look at your friends. Instead, Mark lifts the hand around your waist and tucks your hair behind your ear, smiling slightly.

‘I thought you’d never do it. Good job.’ This from JB who calmly leans against the wall, smothering a yawn.

‘What’s he talking about?’ Youngjae asks.

JB starts to answer, a smug twist to his lips. But Mark cuts him off. ‘I finally shot my shot.’

‘Took you long enough,’ Jackson says with a laugh. 

Bambam throws up his hands. ‘God, I swear this took five years off my life, I need snacks. Let’s leave them alone guys.’

He heads off down the stairs and one by one the rest of the guys go after him until you and Mark are alone once more. In the stark light overhead you wonder if this is all some horrible prank.

‘By shooting your shot you mean… you like me too?’

Mark bends against, holding you close and kissing you firmly on the lips. ‘Yes, I do. Have for a long ass time,’ he says against your mouth.

‘But I’ve liked you forever, too.’

He releases your hand to grip your hips. You react on instinct, throwing your arms around his neck. Your face goes into the warmth of his neck and you can’t help but grin.

‘That is excellent news,’ he says. You can feel the ghost of his smile against the skin of your shoulder. ‘Because I’d prefer it if my girlfriend was into me.’ 

You snort and bite a his neck gently. ‘God I can’t believe my boyfriend is such a dork.’

[minalous]

when we were young • jjk

pairing: jungkook x reader

description/warnings: none, maybe some kissing, hades!jungkook, mortal!reader || The man named Jungkook. The wonderful man who came into your life and changed it forever. Broken memories is all you have left of him, memories of him playing like a broken record inside your scattered mind. But you still love him, after all these years you love him. Always..

genre: angst | fluff

words: 2.2k

♡

“Is this the last time I get to hold you?”

You don’t leave his hand from yours, you keep holding him as close as you can to savour the last of moments you get to have him. His eyes meet yours in a desperate attempt to burn your image inside his mind, inside his heart. The memory of you will be his sweet remedy.

He was never meant to meet you, never meant to fall in love with you, never meant to hurt you.

He is a God who wanted to see humans from up close and experience those feelings and emotions he was never able to understand. He knew of pain, loss, love, lust, regret, loneliness. He knew how people reacted to the illusion of the existence of emotions, he wondered how humans could be so irrational of trusting one another, how they could be so blind to the truth.

The one truth for him was death. Death was simple, certain, inevitable. And love was the opposite; complicated, vague, inexplicable.

Jungkook’s curiosity was the fatal mistake. The mistake that comes to haunt him for the rest of his immortal life.

But at least you will have all those memories.. Broken memories of the most beautiful days of your mortal life

♡ The first time you met him was on a spring day. The beauty of the blossomed trees was mesmerising, everyone around you was too busy to enjoy how beautiful of a day it was, except for him. A man who had his eyes closed and he seemed so lost into the moment that it made your heart skip a beat. It was such a rare view, same to a hidden gem to still find people willing to stop and stare to the beauty nature can offer. You still remember watching him as if hypnotised, Jungkook reaching out to touch one of the branches of the tree and softly whisper to it.

Every now and then you would see him around the city, it would be more than unavoidable not to notice him. The way he moved around was the equivalent of aristocratic. His manners were out of this world but whenever you were to steal some glances, his eyes would seem so full of curiosity and excitement. Everything was going so well, you looking at him from afar until the day Jungkook’s eyes stared into yours and at that moment you swear you felt infinite.

The days would come and go so quickly since you met him, getting to know him was a new experience to the both of you. Jungkook seemed to know every little thing for the universe itself but when it came to the smallest of things, he acted as a child ready to get a candy within his grasp. It was beautiful and rare to interact with someone who was spellbound by you, someone who was both excited and anxious about the new things you could explore together.

Jungkook was the person you had been waiting your whole life for; he would message you to ask you if it was okay to go on another date but would always ask you if it was too cold for you to go out. His consideration about everything would seem annoying to someone else but to you was the sweetest of things.

♡

The warmth of the winter sun is one of the moments you can still recall with great ease, the faint wind blowing the last of the leaves away and the scenery unravelling before you was so breathtaking. The sea looked as if taken from an ancient painting, put before your eyes and waiting for you to step inside it, to be taken in another world. A world were you can be with him, just you and Jungkook.

That day, the day when you spent hours and hours of sharing moments, dreams and wishes for the future to come, you could feel the longing in your heart. It was a feeling you could not shake away, a feeling screaming you were about to suffer a great loss. But Jungkook was right there beside you, so what could go wrong?

And on that day when you were so scared about your future with him, it was the day you shared your first kiss. The kiss felt pure, filled with emotions, so full of love and longing. It was the kind of kiss you wait for a thousand lives, a kiss you only have once.

♡

You remember the first time you saw him gazing at the snow as if it was the most fascinating thing in the world. His eyes met the endless of the night sky and when a small snowflake hit his warm cheek you could swear his childlike, innocent smile was the purest form of love you ever felt in your life. Jungkook turned around to see your sweet smile, the smile you only had for him.

“I wish I could feel like that everyday” Jungkook said suddenly

“Like what?” you asked softly

“I wish everyday was like that; waking up by your side and not have a care for the world. Just you and I” he told you as his fingers brushed against your hand “It feels right to be here with you, to live this moment, to share it with you” his fingers now intertwined with yours and as he was about to start walking again, he put your hands inside his coat’s pocket.

“Your innocence makes me love you even more..”

♡

“My selfishness brought us here.” Jungkook was muttering to himself

You may not have been able to completely understand what was going through his mind but deep inside, deep inside you knew it had to be this uneasy feeling you always had. The love you were experiencing with him was too good to be true, you being happy for once in your life was not meant to last.

“What is it?” you asked him softly but in vain

Jungkook was picking up random stuff he had left scattered around his house, moving around from room to room to collect items he may have forgotten. Before you could even recollect your thoughts, ask him what is happening, he spoke again.

“It was all worth it. It is worth it”

With his hand wrapped around your waist he ever so carefully guides you towards the front door.

“Please wait for me at the car. I will be there in a few minutes” you are about to complain but he stops you

“Please don’t fight me on that. Go. Just go. Please..” he says softly and with a soft kiss on the top of your head, he gives you a bittersweet smile and closes the door behind you.

But knowing you, you do not leave. You simply stand there, behind the closed door, wondering why all out of the sudden he began being so mysterious and weird around you. For one, you knew for sure there were parts of him you could never quite understand in depth but that was what you loved about him.

The door you thought. You could open the door and go see what was the reason of his absurd behaviour, why he was acting so differently. All kind of thoughts were running through your mind; him being terminally ill. Why was your mind your worst enemy? The anxiety was about to consume you whole so your body did you a favour, your hand pushed the door open.

No, you cannot lose him. Not him.

You could never remember what you saw that day, the only memory was waking up inside Jungkook’s arms, him being a trembling mess. He kept apologising about corrupting your innocent soul, his aura influencing your mind. How he could be so oblivious to the threats he made you face.

That was the day he revealed who he was, that was the day you lost him forever.

♡

“It was never your fault. It is not your fault you chose to love me. It is my fault, mine and only. This human heart inside my chest beats only for you and every cell in this body screams out its love for you. If I were ever meant to be on this earth and live a human life, I would be honoured to be yours, to be your soulmate.” Standing still for a moment, Jungkook’s eyes follow the tears threatening to fall from the corners of your eyes. When his hand softly cups your cheek, you instinctively lean on his touch with his warmth blinding your thoughts.

“We need to say goodbye. Should I stay more, I may never be able to leave” Jungkook feels something wetting his cheek and for a moment he is confused by the strangeness of it.

“You’re my tear” he says as he wipes the drop of tear “You’re the emotions I never had”

For he was the Angel of death, protector of the damned souls, an immortal God who should have never fallen in love with the mortal you. He was Hades.

And you.. The mortal you. You were everything he could dream of but never could possess.

A love doomed into the eternity with no hope to blossom. An eternal hope of a spring day that shall remain frozen into the coldness of his winter

“I wish I’d be your last” the voice you heard was so faint but you knew. You knew it was him, wishful thoughts of you being there for him and him being with you for the rest of your days..

♡

“I miss you”

This faint whispering you keep listening must be a mistaken memory of yours. The old you has been thinking of him, recalling everything dear and beautiful you have been keeping close to your heart all these years. You are alone in this world, falling into deep thoughts of how different your life could have been if you ever chose to marry the man called Namjoon, the man who begged you to let him heal your broken heart. But your heart wasn’t yours to heal. It ever belonged to him, the voice you have been wishing to remember until it is impossible to forget.

Old and alone. Because how could you ever love without Jungkook? But you lived a happy life, you lived until you would see him again.

“I still want you”

This voice. Even after all these years the voice never leaves you alone. Is it a dream?

The room seems to get darker around you, the light on your nightstand can barely illuminate the corners of it. There is no fear though for what it is to come, this familiar feeling of complete serenity is bathing your soul and for once in a long time you feel at peace.

“It is time, my love” the voice says.. But it is right beside you now.

“Finally” you can barely get out “you came back for me”

“I never left” you can now see Jungkook’s beautiful face, his figure towering over your smaller, weaker frame

“You are still so beautiful, so young” you tell him and you can see him smile, after decades of missing him, he is here

“So are you” Jungkook leans down to place a soft kiss on your lips and heaven knows how long you have waited for this moment to come

Jungkook ever so carefully helps you get up from the bed, feeling lightweight after months of not being able to stand on your own. He guides you in front of the standing mirror in one of the corners of your room.

“Am I young again?” you say in disbelief

“We can have our second chance in afterlife. Come with me, my love”

You turn around to face the truth; your old, lifeless body is laying peacefully on the bed but you do not feel ready to leave. The love of your life is standing centimetres away from you but still, you are not complete.

“I have one last question before I leave this world.” you start “ The day before you left me, something happened, something that scared you.”

Jungkook calmly explained to you what he found out while being with you, how he was slowly claiming your soul. Being the God of Death, it was inevitable, you were cursed to live separately while being mortal. He never meant to hurt you..“I waited for you. Until it was your time to leave this earthly world and be with me. I waited..”

“Are you ready?” Jungkook asks you but you keep looking back at the nightstand

“Just one moment” you respond, walking back to your nightstand to shuffle through your belongings. 

“Take my hand now, love” is all he had to say and you willingly followed. You were ready to let go

In the last moment you had left in the earthly world, you wished to leave the most precious thing you ever had in your possession, to be left with what you loved the most. You had placed it in your hand so you can be with it, body and soul.

A gift from Jungkook to you, a beautiful gift that had “Forever yours” written on its back. A photograph of when you were young. 

“I am ready” 

[sword-envy]

well how the turntables...

Fandom: A Tale of Crowns @ataleofcrowns

Content warning: swearing and light gore

Word Count: 2830

Pairing: X/A lite. lite

Description: Azad doesn’t care for how or why he finds himself facing down the Pale Sword once again; what he does know is that he’s getting a little Spirits-damned tired of cleaning up the man’s messes.

or, that time A tried to read X's mind, failed, and then got their fucking nose broken

With Xelef pinned under his forearm and his famous sword lost somewhere in the grass behind them, Azad loses his last shred of patience and smacks his palm against Xelef's head.

Azad can see Xelef's eyes widen in his peripheral as his magic surges forward, rushing past a few feeble mental blocks, buffeting them like rocks in a river. Azad flips throught the immediate memories--his own face set in a stern expression as Xelef was thrown against the tree, the feeling of a sword being knocked from his hands, their duel picking up as Azad pressed forward, demanding to know where Xelef had hidden that stupid--

He doesn't put him to sleep first, doesn't want to waste the time doing it, and as retribution for all the headaches this damned mercenary caused him that day alone, he intends on making this sting. The magic rises to him, easily, flowing from his palm and it presses into Xelef's mind, searching for some shred of clarity regarding the shitstorm that had been raging for the past week.

And then, fire. His head fills with fire. 

Xelef's defense eases just enough for Azad to feel the weight of someone’s hands curled and pushing against his forearm, but even in his dizzy state, he holds his ground and doesn’t let Xelef up. A particularly painful jolt leaves him winded, pitching forward. He catches that familiar, stupid smirk, and Xelef opens his mouth to speak.

It bursts to life behind his eyes, accompanied by searing pain. His search is halted immediately by that wall of flames, acting almost like a physical barrier that proceeds to march forward and knock him flat on his ass. The burning fills and dulls his senses and he's vaguely aware of the feeling of someone poking around; If he wasn't too busy trying not to drown, his skin would be crawling. 

"Sorry, beloved." And then he slams his forehead down on Azad's nose.

The bones break with a sickening crack that reverberates through his skull and pierces the white-hot flames still clouding his vision. Azad's distantly aware that Xelef pushes him away the same moment their heads collide, and it isn't until he feels the ground against his back that the mental invasion recedes and he can feel his broken nose intimately.

"Fuck!" he shouts, pain setting in and blood flying into the hand he presses to his face. Xelef is still standing, presumably looking at him, and Azad fumbles with one hand for something to throw. His fingers find a rock and he throws it with all the force he can muster (which is a lot, judging by the shattering sound that follows after Xelef dives out of the way). "Fuck!"

He sees red and still glares through it at Xelef, who at least has the decency to look sheepish and extend a hand to help him up.

Azad slaps away the offered hand. "What, by the void, was that?"

“Oh, come on. Don’t tell me you’ve never run into a mental defense before.” Azad ignores him and raises unsteadily to his feet, leaving Xelef to sigh dramatically.  "I mean, I'm not going to tell you. But I can definitely recommend that you don't try that mind-reading trick on me again.”  Azad considers rolling his eyes, but another wave of pain hits him and he elects to instead squeeze his eyes shut and ignore him.

He's tired. His head hurts. His nose is fucking broken. Azad can predict the lecture about duty and finishing tasks, almost down to the unique color Dara’s face is going to turn, but this is just some stupid retrieval mission that he has no personal stake in. He is going to find a healer and go to sleep, nobility be damned.

Xelef raises his hand hesitantly, almost like he's going to try and touch him, but seems to think better of it. "You know, there's a few more of us nearby," he says lightly, turning away to search the grass. "I'm sure we have someone who can help you with that."

Azad spits a clot of blood on the ground. "What was the fucking point of breaking my nose if you were going to offer to fix it?"

"Aww, do you want me to kiss it better?" The teasing is nothing if not expected, but Xelef still crumbles a little under the glare Azad throws his way. He averts his eyes. "I, uh. I didn't actually mean to break your nose. I just wanted to stun you. I'm--really sorry."

This time, Azad really does roll his eyes.The idea of relying on Xelef after that little scene is far from appealing, but their duel had carried them a significant distance from any Imperial forces. One of the Blades would be his best, fastest bet for a healer right now. "Fine," he grumbles. "But you owe me."

Xelef laughs, perhaps a little nervously, and Azad watches distantly as he scoops Azad's own sword from the ground. Azad opens his free hand, waiting to get it back, but Xelef wordlessly secures it in his own belt and starts walking, inclining his head for Azad to follow. He feels himself hesitate, focused on his sword on Xelef’s belt.

Was he trying to apologize? Or to disarm him?

"Give that back," he grumbles, speeding up to fall in step with Xelef. "I can carry it."

Xelef's pouts. "I was trying to do you a favor, you old grouch. But fine, hold a grudge."

Azad scoffs at the accusation, ducking under the tree branch Xelef holds out of the way. "You broke--"

"Hey, that's ancient history!"

"That was five minutes--"

Xelef ignores him entirely, grinning and waving over someone Azad doesn't recognize. Azad’s lips twitch at the diversion, but decides to pick a fight later. There’ll be plenty of time later to discuss what “ancient history” actually constitutes regarding a broken nose.

The Blade that approaches is fairly small, wearing light armour even for the mercenary group, and they move quickly past the few others gathered in the small clearing. Xelef greets them with an easy grin, resting his hands on two swords like it’s the most natural thing in the world. "Fîlya! Care to lend a hand? Azad here went and got his nose broken." Azad rolls his eyes almost far enough to see inside his head.

The Blade, Fîlya, eyes him with some suspicion, taking in the state and Imperial look of his armour, but it doesn't look like they're about to disobey the Pale Sword. They incline their head to Azad, uncertainly but not without respect, and clear their throat. "Move your hands, please," they say politely as they peel off their gloves.

Azad finds himself glancing over at Xelef, who just raises his eyebrows at him. Insufferably, he winks. Azad resists the urge to roll his eyes again and removes his hands, leaning forward enough for them to take a look. They pull a wad of cloth and a waterproof pouch from a bag at their waist, dousing it with the liquid inside.

He closes his eyes and schools his face into neutrality. He can feel his eyes and mouth twitch as Fîlya carefully prods the sides of his nose as they clean off the blood, likely making a mental image of the damage before trying to mend it. Azad is no healer, but he at least knows the basics of how it works. It’s not as simple as pouring magic into a wound and waiting for it to finish; such reckless use would quickly lead to the presence of hard, painful growths that would need to be cut out, lest they spread to the rest of the body. Healing was a careful process affected by a variety of factors, including a healer’s skill level, their specialization, and whether it was suited to the wound they were seeing.

A sharp pain snaps Azad from recalling more of Rêzan’s long-winded explanation on how healing magic works, and he grimaces. 

“Sorry,” Fîlya says quickly, drawing their hands back. “It looks like I’ll need to put the bone back in place before I start healing. Do you want anything for the pain? Something to bite on? Maybe somewhere to sit?” Azad blinks his eyes at the choices, and Fîlya looks on with their eyebrows drawn, chewing on the inside of their lip.

Mostly, Azad wants this to be over with. “No, but thank you. I’ll be fine.”

Xelef exchanges an amused look with the Blade, who seems more confused than anything, but they shrug and turn back to Azad. They raise their bare hands and he closes his eyes again, feels them place their hands back on his face, their thumbs on either side of his nose. “Uh, Chief, can you--?"

"Yeah, of course." Warm hands appear too quickly on the sides of his head for Azad to move away from, and the heat emanating from Xelef briefly distracts him. Xelef holds him firmly, and Azad opens his mouth to protest having to be held down like some sort of child. It’s annoying. It’s embarrassing. His face heats up from the irritation at the gesture, not from a certain someone’s proximity or breath brushing against the back of his neck.

While he’s distracted, Fîlya pops his nose back into alignment on the distant count of two.

Pain explodes behind his eyes once again and he clenches his teeth, trying not to break out into obscenities. “Sorry!” they say quickly, carefully running over the bridge of his nose again with their fingers. The familiar hot-cold tinge of magic slowly seeps into his skin, and the healer starts talking again, likely trying to cover the sound of bones mending themselves together. “The closer I get it back to the original shape before healing, the better it turns out in the end. I'm hardly a master, but this should heal up pretty well," they explain. 

To his left, Xelef scoffs. He still hasn’t taken his hands off Azad’s head, and the heat from them is starting to sink into his skull. (Azad is absently aware of Xelef’s thumbs moving almost imperceptibly against his hair, like a soothing gesture).  "Fîlya's just being modest. She's one of our best healers, no need to worry. You'll look exactly the same as before." Azad doesn’t respond. If he really needs to, he can have Rêzan or someone else fine-tune it; the sooner he can get out of here, the better.

By the time he opens his eyes and the pain dulls into mild soreness, he sees two familiar figures stalking towards them. Fîlya makes a strange noise, immediately turning tail and leaving, Xelef drops his hands, and Azad braces himself for a conversation that will undoubtedly keep him from his bed for a little longer. "Tûjo. Heval."

Tûjo silently inclines his head, his usual greeting, but Heval seems a little less inclined towards business as usual.

"What," they ask tersely, "Are you doing here?" They didn't bring their axe with them, he notices, but Heval's arms are crossed and their tone doesn't exactly seem pleased from under their iron mask. Azad sighs, and Xelef seems to take that as an invitation to talk.

"Why, Azad simply couldn't resist my offer for dinner and decided to join us! He's completely enamored to the idea of becoming a--"

Azad can feel his eye roll ripple through his posture and looks dead Heval in the eyes. "Xelef broke my nose." Heval sucks in a sharp breath and raises their hand as though to pinch the bridge of their own nose; Tûjo blinks but otherwise doesn't move.

"You broke his nose?" he says, and Azad is able to pick up a tinge of something he can't quite identify in Tûjo's tone. Xelef laughs a little too loudly and rubs at the back of his neck, something Azad has noticed he does when he’s embarrassed.

"Accidentally," he insists. "And Fîlya fixed it up for him! It's like it never even happened! I'm sure he won't hold it against me, right?"

Azad hums at that and carefully touches his nose. It feels tender, but otherwise correct. "Time will tell."

Tûjo coughs into his fist, eyes crinkled slightly, and Heval huffs in annoyance.

"Even if he did break your nose," they say, eyeing Xelef with disappointment, "What, exactly, are you doing here? We're hardly working towards the same goal right now." Azad shrugs.

"It's a professional difference. I honestly couldn't care less. Besides, I don't even have my sword." He motions towards the blade, still dangling from Xelef's hip opposite his pale scimitar. "He wouldn't let me carry it."

This time, both of Xelef's right-hand mercenaries turn to look at him. He crosses his arms and grins at them both, but something about the smile doesn't fully sit right. It doesn’t reach his eyes.

"What? A man can't carry a sword for his injured friend?"

No one pushes the claim, but Xelef still unclips the sword and passes it back to its rightful owner. Azad slides it back into the scabbard, bemused at the fact that Xelef was really so reckless as to carry a naked blade swinging from his hip.

The three people sensible enough to not do that exchange uneasy glances, until finally Xelef clears his throat.

“Well, Azad, I’m sure you’re anxious to get back to your own camp,” he says amicably, clapping a hand down on his shoulder. Azad doesn’t expend the energy to shrug it off. “Why don’t I walk you back closer to your camp? It’s dangerous to go alone, after all.”

“Wouldn’t that leave you walking alone?” Azad asks. Heval tilts their head, and nods once in agreement.

“He’s right, chief. It would be needlessly dangerous to travel alone. We don’t know who’s still out in the forest at this point, and not all of the soldiers are going to be so understanding.”

Xelef waves off the suggestion. “Oh, come on! I’ll sense anyone coming for a mile away. You won’t even finish dinner before I get back.” Xelef’s other hand reaches out to clasp Heval’s shoulder comfortingly, and they relax and sigh heavily.

“Just be careful, please.” They’re still looking at Azad with suspicion, and Azad raises an eyebrow at them. Heval clears their throat, and inclines their head to him, Tûjo following suit. “Until next time, Azad.”

“Until next time.”

And so, Xelef’s hand still on his shoulder, they steer away from the lowlit camp and back into the darkening forest. It’s still light enough to see, and Azad reluctantly allows Xelef to take the lead as they walk; even if the two of them both gravitated towards inner magic, Xelef’s sensory abilities were--admittedly--exceptional.

They walk in silence for a while, picking through the grass and the underbrush, before Xelef speaks up. “How’s the nose?”

“It’s fine,” Azad says, after consideration. He ducks under the branch Xelef holds out of the way, realizing that's at least the second time he's done that. “You’re being...awfully attentive,” he adds carefully. Xelef shrugs with an easy grin.

“Why? Are you enjoying the attention?” he teases.

“I’m suspicious of it.”

Xelef’s eyes drop as he kicks a rock out of the way, lips turned down in a frown. Azad feels the urge to bump their shoulders, which is an unexpected and mostly unwelcome idea. Instead, he wets his lips against the urge to assuage the guilt that was showing under Xelef’s sulky demeanor. “It’s fine. Really. Before you go all “ooh Azad, beloved, don’t break my heart, please forgive me”,” he teases in his best Pale Sword imitation. Xelef’s head snaps up and his green eyes stare at him in open disbelief.

The Pale Sword cracks a smile. “I do not sound like that!” he insists, but the smile colors his voice and he forges forward. They’re getting close, Azad realizes. “Spirits, you’re insufferable sometimes.”

“I wouldn’t know about ‘sometimes’,” Azad says airily. “I try to be insufferable most of the time, actually.”

Xelef shakes his head, black locks swinging. “It works,” he remarks dryly, and slows to a stop. He looks around quickly before turning to face Azad, hands on his hips. The last reaches of sunlight are nearly gone, past the golden fire-like burn of sunset. The colors around them are muted, matching the expression on Xelef’s face.

“Until we meet again, Mirza,” he says dramatically, sweeping into the most sarcastic approximation of a bow Azad has ever seen in his life. “Perhaps next time you’ll win.”

Azad scoffs and rolls his eyes one more time. “Or I’ll return the favor.” He walks past Xelef, towards the distant glow of the Imperial camp through the trees. He thinks about his bed, the scolding he’ll face after he packs up and heads back to the city, the color the General’s face will turn when he finds out what he did.

It’s strange. Even without looking, he gets the feeling that Xelef is smiling at him.

[suicidalcatz]

Running in the rain

Pairing : Jake Kiszka x reader

Genre : Fluff / OS

Prompt : 24. “Your romanticism will never cease to amaze me”, for @langdonsluxiouslocks

AN : Hi, it’s been fucking forever. First things first, I’m sorry for my 10 months disappearance. I don’t have any fancy excuse, I just didn’t feel like writing anymore. I thank you if you understand, but I’ll get it if you’re mad at me too.I’m even more sorry to the person who kindly asked for this prompt. Sweetie I deeply apologize, my english is a bit rusty but I hope you’ll enjoy it.

                                          Running in the Rain

It was a really strange feeling, seeing him onstage. And it was even more uncanny the way his head would suddenly raise to stare at me, eyes sparkling with joy. The girls next to me would push and scream, giggling loudly, and I couldn't blame them for thinking it was for them, while I would shyly look away in a vain attempt to hide the blush creeping up my cheeks. The truth was that Jake only had eyes for me. But they'd never know.

Some time ago, I too was on the other side of the stage. Sharing forbidden glimpses. The ghost of a touch when his hand would brush past mine across the barricade. Smiles, in the rarest moments. All those memories from a past that seemed so ancient it almost felt like a dream, slowly fading away as days passed.

It was so easy to ignore everything that wasn't Jake, even more so when he was so caught up in his solo. The melody would reach my ears, and the whole world around me would be forgotten. Whether it was the cheering crowd of loyal fans, applauding and whistling. Josh frolicking back and forth on the stage with his oh so charming smile and tambourine. Sam, letting his hands through his long luscious locks before taking a drink, making all the girls cry in awe. Danny, always the serious one, never missing a beat on his drums, even when Jake was leading and going to unknown destinations with his melodies. Even with all of this, the sounds, one by one, disappeared, except for the torturous notes escaping from the guitar. They were all slowly fading to black, leaving Jake the only one under the spotlight of my mind. And with unconcealed admiration, I smiled fondly.

                                                          * * *

- I was really surprised to see you here tonight ! You didn't text me so I thought you couldn't make it.

Jake was beaming, glee exhaling through his every pore, still high on adrenaline. He couldn't dream of a better surprise than us being together tonight, and I knew it. It was the very reason why I didn't think twice before booking a flight to see him.

- You know what day we are. I wouldn't miss it for anything.

For a second, I could see him soften at my words, and it made my heart flutter. Such saps we made... and of course Sam was enjoying reminding it to us every damn minute. Tonight, though, he made us the gift of settling for a disgusted grimace instead of a scoff, but nevertheless got kicked out of the dressing room by my boyfriend handing me a drink.

- Me neither, he finally replied, sore throat making his voice hoarser than usual.

Jake was all over me the second he had downed his glass of water, gently pining me against the wall, both arms framing my face, preventing me from escaping him. Like I'd ever wanted to run away from him. Through long lashes, his dark eyes trailed all over me, devouring me without even touching me... And I gladly returned the favor, darting my gaze on his Adam's apple, admiring the way it bobbed when Jake swallowed. Before I even knew it, my eyes were venturing further south, where his unbuttoned shirt reaveled skin covered sweat glimmering in the dim lights of the green room like caramel slowly melting under the sun, yet hiding the best parts behind those few buttons, like it was teasing me, asking me to rip them open. I licked my lips unknowingly and Jake seemed to read the mood because his body not-so-subtly pressed against mine, efficiently trapping me under his hot self, resting his forehead on mine.

- You know..., he huskily whispered, I can think of a few ways to celebrate...

I couldn't help a chuckle from escaping my throat, shaking my head in fake disbelief.

- Your romanticism will never cease to amaze me.

As his only answer, Jake shrugged, lips pursed in a comical « why not » face, and I rolled my eyes, gently pushing his torso to brush past him, arms already crossing against my chest. Swiftly, his fingers locked against the crook of my elbow to bring me close to him once again, his free hand resting on my neck, keeping me in his grasp like he couldn't physically bear for us to be apart even for a minute.

- Do you really think I had nothing planned for us tonight ?

The surprise his words caused made my mouth form a silent O and it was Jake's turn to chuckle.

- You almost had me when you didn't answer my texts, I'll give you that, but everything was already set anyway, y'know, just in case. So... shall we go ?

It was true I got a bit sneaky by kind of making him believe I might not be able to come to his show tonight but, in all fairness it was all bluff, we had planned this together. As romantic as the idea sounded, it was unrealistic to surprise someone as busy as Jake by suddenly barging in without telling him first. Even on our anniversary. The man had a life beside me, and it would've been more than right if he had planned something with the band instead. And yet, after all this time together,  Jake still found ways to surprise me. It was like the magic we feel at the beginning of every relationship hadn't worn out, instead settling with us and gracing us of its spark, keeping every touch electric, every moment spent together ecstatic.

Fortunately, no interview was set tonight, and as for the few fans waiting in front of the venue, Jake was the first one to great them while I was waiting for him near the backdoor not to draw attention on ourselves. It was always fun, looking at him exchanging with fans, witnessing his astounded yet admirative face whenever he received gifts, and hugging them tightly with shared respect and love. He didn't look like it, but Jake was a very expressive guy, I had come to learn. You could always read the interest in his eyes when he spoke to a fan, giving them his full attention, and the way the corner of his lips would slowly stretch into a friendly smile when you joked with him. And thus, his joy was communicative. Like a tidal wave of delight hitting everyone around him, and bathing them in warm emotions. We often used the idiom « What you see is what you get » to sell goods, well... Jake was exactly like that. Nothing hidden, just everything laying on the surface... And I really liked what I saw. In a way that might make sense only to me, he was real.

The chilling air of Spring rised in the trees, causing the leaves to whistle, the fans to shiver, and Jake's head to perk up in my direction, checking in on me. A reassuring smile didn't stop him from saying goodbye, leaving the girls in Josh's care to get back to me. Rough fingers found mine, and we disappeared in the dark of the night to our secret rendez-vous.

The evening was quiet, Jake and I's voices chatting pleasantly, interrupting the birds' conversations, breathing in the sugary scent of blooming, just enjoying each other's company. The streets were busy, even at this hour, but it didn't matter. In fact, nothing mattered to us in this moment except the other. Taking the lead, Jake took me into a park near the venue, forcing us to get through fluffy bushes, not really knowing where our feet were going to land on the uneven ground. We looked like little kids going on an adventure in their parents' garden, with him pulling my hand with excitment and merrily shushing me when I asked questions. Playing along, I followed closer as we sunk in deeper into -how Jake called it- the wilderness, pushing aside branches from our way and letting the wild grass caress our calves until he stopped on his tracks, announcing this was the place. And oh, it was. Taking a breath in, I let him gently pull my hand so I could stand by his side.

It was the perfect spot under the stars. We were high enough to admire the city lights, a million of minuscule dots shining lightly in different colors, like a flower field that sprawled infinitely, kissing the sky on its horizon. Opening his backpack, Jake wordlessly pulled a blanket out of it, spreading it neatly in the fluffy grass, motioning me to sit.

- Are we having a picnic ?

- We are !, replied Jake with the same enthusiastic tone while freeing the sandwiches of their plastic prison. Because you know I figured- Who on earth likes fancy restaurants ? All those... gourmet dishes with exquisite flavors, prepared by renowned chefs... Nah, screw that, let's have peanut butter jelly sandwiches sitting on a plaid.

His humor never failed to make me laugh, and by a swift hand motion I slided the tupperware aside and out of the way so I could get closer to Jake, taking his fingers in mine, patting his digits softly, searching for his eyes in the almost darkness.

- It's perfect.

Even if he looked confident, and rightfully so, I felt the need to reassure him and to show him how appreciative I was that he planned this for us. His gaze found mine, pupils dancing, switching their focus from my right eye to the other, before a small smile spread across his face.

- Come here.

Matching words with actions, his hand tangled itself in my hair, pulling me into a kiss. His lips were soft as silk when they met mine, gently pressing against them before he deepened our embrace, sighing into it with content, finally getting the caress we both craved for so long. Becoming needy, feeling touch-starved, calloused palms rediscovered my silhouette, not missing anything ; every shape, every curve, fingers digging into the flesh of my hips with both want and longing, as if I was going to disappear into thin air in a second. Heat was rising to my face, feeling intoxicated by the smell of his cologne, the taste of his still sweat-salty lips, the sensation of his hungry mouth devoring mine, his fingers gripping me, kneading me like dough. I loved every little thing and his whole everything put me on fire, filling me with such strong feelings my chest felt like an over inflated balloon about to burst. That's why when a cold drop crashed on my cheek, I thought I was crying. When another landed on my nose, I thought Jake was the one crying. When the brunette let go of me to look up at the firmament, we both understood too late it was the sky that was.

By the time we were struggling to stuff all of our belongings into Jake's bag, it was already pouring, and the sandwiches were waterlogged, like sponges filled with jam. There was no point in trying to salvage them, so that's how our dinner went straight to the trash.

As soon as we exited the park, we ran our way back to the busy street, like headless chickens, trying to catch a cab, not really knowing where to go, but wanting to do it fast. Around us, people were moving quickly, passing and averting us swiftly, taking shelter in front of shops, in cafés, trying to cover their head with briefcases, purses, or, less efficiently, newspapers. After a little while, though, it became obvious that it didn't matter anymore. The rush of the first drops of rain was way past us now, and we silently agreed to accept our fate. I looked at Jake, with his hair so plastered on his head that a large strand crossed his face, almost blinding him. Black spots had formed on his jeans, progressively darkening the already inky denim. His unbuttoned shirt did nothing for him either, and soon had more similarities with a mop than anything else. It must've been such a sorry sight, the both of us.

- I'm sorry. I should've watch the weather report, he said dully.

With a smile, I shook my head, taking his between my cold sleeves.

- I don't mind. Now why bother when we're already soaked to the bone ?

As if mocking me, our so long awaited taxi passed right by us in a rush, rolling full speed in a puddle of water the size of Lake Michigan, forcing me to take a shower of muddy water. A shiver ran down my spine, aside with all the droplets of rain rolling on my skin like a cold sweat, and I looked at Jake with distress filled eyes. It only took one second for the moron to laugh as hard as he could, taking in the sight of my pathetic self.

- Oh you'll regret that, Kiszka !

We loved to play chase, but getting Jake was difficult. The boy had incredible out-of-this-world reflexes. I had long ago learnt it at my expense, when all of my attacks had been turned against me. If I wanted to catch him, the only way was to act on a whim. And that's exactly what I did. Without warning, I leapt at him, not missing the way his soles slipped on a watery sidewalk as he tried to dodge whatever was coming at him. We were laughing hard when our hands caughted each other, fighting for dominance, ignoring the hurried passersby weird looks. When Jake's slippy shoes betrayed him, I had him cornered against an abandonned shop's doorstep, relishing in the way his yelps got interspersed with excited giggles, adrenaline kicking in as I pulled his shirt out of his pants to stick my soaked sleeves to the dry skin of his hips. He must've feel the cold, cold drops slowly making their way to his lower back and thighs because Jake squirmed under my touch, desperately trying to get away from this torture, but too weakened by the tickling sensation to put up a good fight. As his only way of getting rid of me, he counter-attacked, lifting up my hair with one hand and smacking his other one in my neck, causing me to instantly squeal and tense.

We looked at each other, out of breath and jaw hurting from laughing, eyelashes heavy with droplets, rain tickling our noses, and entering our open mouths. Jake let out a content sigh, caressing my cheek to rub off some of the water.

- Let's call a Uber.

                                                          * * *

The first thing we did after stepping foot into the motel room was to abandon our drenched clothes to the ground in favor of a comfy, warm bathrobe. The second was to ease our aching stomaches by ordering some junkfood. Sitting both in the bed while switching the tv channels faster than necessary, I could see Jake sulking in the corner of my eye. It wasn't easy to realize, since he often looked completely lost in thought, but his pout had something distinctive I couldn't quite describe, and he didn't eat much. Losing interest for the torture I inflicted to the remote, I turned my head to him, calling his name softly, waiting patiently for him to speak up. There was no point in lying, I could tell the boy had something on his mind. I just hoped he knew I was here for him.

- I had planned for things to go differently..., he finally mumbled while playing idly with his food. I really wanted this night to be special, you know ?

The remote got discarded, laying at the edge of the bed, as I put my food aside and turned fully to him, sitting cross-legged, giving him all of my attention.

- What are you saying ? This is the best date I've ever had.

- Don't be silly-

- It is, I assured him. Are you kidding me ? Picnic under the stars-

Getting to his feet to put all of our trash in the room's dustbin, Jake cut me off, sighing heavily. I could tell suddenly standing up was his way of pacing, because he felt frustrated that things didn't go as he had planned. When he had an precise idea in mind, he'd always do his best for it to go smooth sailing. But alas, sometimes things just simply didn't go by the book. And it didn't matter.

- Running in the rain, eating junkfood and watching shitty tv reality shows, Jake finished.

- Yeah. With you. Which changes everything. Didn't I come all the way here to see you ? It's the only thing that matters to me.

A silence settled between us, during which Jake was processing everything I just said. His kind brown eyes found mine, and a moment later, a smile spread on his lips.

- You're amazing, you know that ?

There was an absolute fondness in his tone when the words were delivered, a sheer tenderness and gratefulness in his expression, and he took some time to look at me, as a whole, as if considering something, but all I can see on his face was adoration. I never doubted his feelings for me, and probably never will, but at times like these I knew for sure, felt how much he loved and cared for me. Now certain that our date wasn't ruined, he lit up a bit, regaining the nonchalent confidence I terribly liked about him.

- Then if you're still up for it, I have something else for you.

Choosing not to answer my silent questions, Jake left me dumbfounded as he motioned for me to join him next to the bathroom. Gently but firmly, his fingers pressed on my shoulders in order to place my body in front of the bathroom door.

- Ladies first, his hoarse voice came from behind me, awfully close to my ear.

The heat that spread on my cheek and neck where his breath caressed me didn't distract me from the task at hand, curiosity always getting the best of me. But when the door slided open, and Jake switched on the light, my brain shut down, overwhelmed by all it witnessed. My mouth opened, as if to say something, anything, but nothing came out, and Jake laughed, not having wanted to miss the expression on my face. His arms slipped around me, circling my waist lovingly, and his quiet breath tingled the back of ears when he rested his chin in the crook of my neck.

- Well... What do you say ? Still want to continue our date ? The day isn't over already.

- Jake it's- When did you have the time ?

My fingers caressed the soft skin at the top of his hands, wanting to show gratitude but too bewildered to remember how to. Delicately scattered all over the ground were rose petals, their color the prettiest, most intense red I've ever seen contrasting greatly against the bathroom's white floor tiles. Resting in an ice bucket next to the mirror was a bottle of champagne and two glasses, and Jake pushed me inside, making me walk alongside him, then taking the bottle in hand to open it.

- I told you, didn't I ? That I had everything planned, even if you couldn't make it. Now, beautiful, would you mind starting running the water ?

Still amazed by how much thought Jake put into his surprise, I did as I was told, not missing the moment my boyfriend popped the cork, making the champagne scent fill the air, and the foam pour out and on Jake's hands, until it ended up splattering on the floor.

- Nothing better than a hot bath after being soaked by rain, right?

When Jake smiled at me, handing me a glass of champagne, in this hotel bathroom filled with roses, I felt the happiest I've ever felt in maybe forever. In a strange yet terribly logical way, I felt whole.

- I didn't think I could love you more than I already did.

Jake chuckled, getting closer, making our glasses clink, his warm brown eyes watching me as if I was the most precious thing he's ever seen.

- Happy anniversary.

[delldarling]

the lord of frost | holler

This was December’s story of the month over on Patreon! Want to have a hand in voting on the subject for February’s story of the month? Become a patron!

male deity x gender/body neutral reader 4.3k words lemon | handjob, mention of sharp teeth, bargains

»»————-　✼　————-««

With a sinking heart, you halt, unsteady as your feet crunch through the fine layer of hardened powder. You reach out a single gloved hand, hoping desperately that you’re only seeing things- but a swirl of pale flurries brushes over the glove before you tip your hand over, watching them fall. It’s started snowing.

You’re already numb, so you thought you had moved past this stage of panic, but apparently not. A fresh dose of fear is bubbling up within your chest, and all you can really do is clutch tighter at the slick material of your snow jacket, trying to talk yourself out of screaming. Sound doesn’t carry well out here, especially when fresh snow is falling, and it will only expend energy you should be conserving.

Logic doesn’t mean shit though, when you’re well and truly scared.

A croke of a gasp escapes you as you take a few more unsteady steps, heading for the mild shelter of a towering, ancient pine. You’ve been holding out hope for what feels like ages, wandering through this frozen forest, but more snow…

You stumble, and catch yourself against the tree trunk, beating one clenched hand uselessly against the rough bark and poorly scratched graffiti. You can’t even make sense of the writing, though that might be the last, desperate burst of adrenaline making a haze of your vision. Still, you hope it isn’t. If someone has carved something like R + H, perhaps that means it’s a popular haunt.

Tears burn the corners of your eyes before you take a bracing breath of cold air. You… You’re alone. Your gloved hand thuds against the bark again, catching on the pointed edge of a broken branch. The sting is fierce, and hot. You twist your hand, lips quivering when you spy the blood welling and seeping into the torn material of your glove. Letting panic overwhelm you into some form of unconsciousness is sounding better and better by the moment.

You’re lost, choking on the thundering of your heart, you’re bleeding- And unbelievably slowly, you’re freezing to death.

You lean your forehead against the tree trunk, squeezing your eyes tightly shut. “I need help,” you whisper, knowing it’s useless, that you’re lost and the only thing that could have saved you is likely buried half a mile back. No, you tell yourself, trying to stem the tears that’re making your eyes ache and burn. Even if you could have saved your phone, the snowfall and distance from anything would have made it just as useless. It wasn’t a satellite phone, just- expensive. You sniffle, and then laugh, because why not?

If you’re going to be lost out here, if you’re going to freeze, you may as well face it with a smile on your lips.

A susurrus of soft noise seems to slice through the dampening snowfall and your drowning spirits.

You blink away your tears and lift your head from the pine, turning to look over your shoulder. You can’t quite tell where the noise is coming from, but the slick shush of it is getting louder, coming your way. The absolute need to yell, to scream for help is rising in you with the force of a shaken soda can, but after a moment, you realize you don’t need to, the sound is coming straight for you. The shout in your throat dies, leaving behind a fierce and terrible ache.

Someone is skiing.

They’re tall, and wrapped in furs and thick knitted scarves. Their face is almost indistinguishable from the darkness under the thick shadow of their hood, but even in this strange half light, the silvery ski poles in their hands gleam. Hesitant, feeling like your heart is still cutting off your speech, you raise a hand in greeting, half expecting to be invisible, for them to ski on by. They slide to a smooth stop in front of you, snow dotting your already damp boots.

Up close, you still can’t make out his face, but his eyes seem to be pale, to shine out of the darkness of his hood, vacant of pupils and utterly foreboding, and his hands- They look like they’re made of frost.

Not ice. Ice suggests that they’re solid. That they’re clear, or cloudy, with water having frozen into strange crystallizations. His hands look.. Delicate. Fragile as spun sugar, with swirling, trailing patterns that make you think of pixie dust and children’s stories. You wonder if he’ll melt when he touches you, and then want to shake yourself for the strange thought. You’re freezing and hallucinating.

The man clucks his tongue, leaning gently on one of his ski poles, tilting his hooded face to the side. “Lost and all on your lonesome?” He asks, voice rough and grating as gravel.

You leave the protective cover of the evergreen boughs, a sudden shiver running through you when he leans his skiing pole against him and reaches out his hand. You can’t shake the thought that he might melt, and you don’t want that.

“You did ask for help, did you not?” He prompts when you hesitate. He stretches, surprisingly strong fingers curling around your gloved hand and turns it upwards to spy the small puncture wound. He bends closer to it for a moment, fingers spasming in their grip on you. “A paltry offering,” he murmurs, and then roars with laughter when he sees the confused look on your face. The sudden loud sound seems to cause a rush of heavy snow to fall from a branch not far away. He quiets, though doesn’t go silent.

“We’re always hungry these days, you see,” he explains, and you can sense the smile, even if you can’t see it behind the thick tangle of scarves. “We’re always happy to take whatever is offered, of course. It’s just that we just can’t seem to stop ourselves from prodding, trying to see if that’s all you’re willing to offer.”

“Willing to offer for what?” You rasp, tugging your hand out of his grip. You’re mildly relieved he lets you go, but you can still feel the weight of his gaze on you. When you say nothing else, he chuckles again, and then leans in close. He takes a deep breath, and as he does the- It’s almost like his proximity, his breathing in, sucked some of the chill from the air. From you. You lift your hand, marveling at the sudden warmth, but with it comes pain. You’re cold, ridiculously so, and your joints are aching. “Wha- Did you-”

“We’re greedy,” he says hoarsely, and suddenly sways, like he’s about to keel over from scenting you on the air, or rather like he wants to lean into the scent of you.  

“Excuse me?” You ask, wrapping your arms around your middle and taking a stumbling step backwards.

The man shakes himself from his sudden stupor, the pale gleam of his eyes narrowing as he takes you in from head to toe. "None of that wariness," he says, reaching out to take careful hold of your wrist again. "We're only greedy for what is freely offered-"

"Who is we?" You ask, impatient. You're tired, and cold, and he seems perfectly content to talk up a storm out here about things that, frankly, aren’t making any sense to you at all. "And you still haven't explained what you mean by greedy, are you-"

He swipes one of those frosty looking fingers over the still-bleeding cut on your hand. You flinch, trying to jerk your arm out of his grip, but for all the appearance of fragility, he’s strong. He rubs his thumb over the blood on his fingertip and then lets you go so abruptly that you nearly fall. You just barely catch yourself, arms pinwheeling to keep your balance. He doesn’t seem to notice when you glare at him.

“And now your debt is paid! I owe you help-” He laughs, another grating sound that has you wrinkling your nose and then he claps his hand to his mouth to muffle it. As soon as his fingers disappear into the darkness of his hood, a chill runs down your spine. You’re fairly sure that was the hand with your blood on it. “Damn it, I should have said aid and made that rhyme.” He sighs and then his hand drops back down to his side. For a moment there’s overwhelming silence, and you think he might be staring, but… He feels more like he’s smiling again, with the way he’s standing, with the way his head is cocked to the side. You frown, because you think you might catch sight of more of that spun sugar frost around those pale eyes- but then he’s turning away from you and taking his silver skiing pole back in hand.

“Town is too far,” he says, a bit softer and smoother than before. “So if you don’t mind heading back to my place-” He seems to realize how that might sound and whirls to face you again, startling you with those wide pale eyes. “You can use the phone there!” He declares, voice loud and echoing again. He tilts his head your way, and it’s almost infuriating, how you can sense but not see the smile on his lips.

“Okay?” You say cautiously, trying to calm your racing heart. You don’t exactly have a choice, and despite his strangeness, you do want to get out of the cold and- and maybe you’ll get the chance to actually see his face.

Getting onto the skis behind him is most definitely a strange endeavor, but you manage. He promises to keep to a slow pace as your arms circle his middle, and soon as you’re settled the air around you grows warmer again, as if his presence is sucking the chill from the air. He sets off, apparently unbothered by the weight of someone else on the back of his skis and glides smoothly through the snowy woods.

Watching the trees pass you by, the snow falling heavy around you and dotting your eyelashes- a strange kind of shiver travels through your bones. You’re cold still, but the ache from before is finally easing from your joints. You feel… Like you’ve stepped to the side of the world, slipped through a veil you didn’t even know was there. Watching the trees fly by, listening to the soft shush of his skis?

Part of you wants to laugh, because you don’t even know his name. You fumble a bit, scrabbling at your jacket sleeves to try and pinch yourself, just to be sure you haven’t fallen into some sort of fever dream. You pinch yourself, sharply, but the pain is vivid, and you can’t risk doing more or you might upend the smooth pace he’s set.

“Almost there,” his voice rumbles. You can feel the vibration of it, with your forehead pressed against his back, and you realize with a start that it sounds crackling, almost like someone speaking over an old radio. The ground dips, and then you’re clutching tight to his middle as the two of your coast over the snow, coming to a curving stop that nearly slides your feet right off of the skis. He chuckles, grabbing hold of your forearm to keep you from falling and then lets you straighten up and step off the skis on your own. He gestures to the right, his hand glittering in the fast fading light of day. “Home, sweet home,” he says brightly, reaching down to unstrap his feet from his skis. You frown, noting the ancient looking leather straps, but turn towards his house, blinking in surprise.  

It’s a well sized cabin, limned with frost. The fast growing shadows are turning faintly purple and blue, making the bright flare of the fire through the window vividly yellow. You take a step towards that inviting looking warmth, and then hesitate again. Why would he leave his fire going if he was leaving to ski? Isn’t that dangerous?

“What should I call you?” You blurt suddenly when he makes to walk past you, skis slung over his shoulder. Those pale eyes turn your way again, head tilted with surprise.

“Hmm,” he mutters. He takes another step towards the cabin and then urges you forward with crooked fingers. “A smart choice of words,” he decides, pushing open his door and then waiting at the threshold for you to cross inside first.

“That’s a mouthful,” you mumble, eyes darting from side to side as you enter, and then he’s laughing again.

“And charming too,” he adds. “I’m Holler,” he says, the barest hint of an accent in the way he says it. The crackling in his voice makes it hard to distinguish though, and then he’s moving hastily, closing the door behind you and heading straight for the fire. It doesn’t really need much stoking, but a few prods with an iron poker have it blazing, and you can finally breathe. You pull off your gloves, trying not to rush to join him at the fireside and kneel on the floor, carefully laying your gloves well back from the hearth.

Your fingertips almost burn with the sudden change of temperature, but the throbbing ache of cold is finally absent, and you’ll take the discomfort if it means you get to keep your working hands.

Holler shifts at your side, taking a step back, and you turn your head to keep him in your sights. You forget entirely about using his phone when he pulls down his hood.

His eyes are still that strange, shining white, absent of pupils, but now you can see that they’re rimmed with pale, crystalline lashes. Just like his hands, Holler’s face looks like it should be hollow, merely a crusting swirl of frost to shape his skin. From beneath the feathery ends of his pale hair, you can see two short nubs - antlers, made entirely of solid ice. Unlike his skin and hands, the antlers are cloudy and they sport chips, as if he’s caught them on things and broken small pieces off. He’s beautiful.

He isn’t human.

You blink rapidly and then rub your eyes, feeling your breath start to come short and fast. You must be imagining things. You must be freezing to death, outside somewhere in the snow, to imagine something like this-

But Holler’s hands are suddenly wrapped around your own and the shocking coolness of his skin seizes your attention entirely.

“You’re owed help, and that is what I’m here to do,” Holler insists, expression turning fierce. “I will not hurt you. That isn’t what you asked for when you prayed beneath my trees-”

“Your trees?” You gasp, and then you do start laughing. He’s talking about prayers, he’s made of frost, and you’re worried about the trees belonging to him?

“Yes,” he says quickly, and his cool hand cups your jaw. The chill makes you hiss and leave off on your hysterical laughter. He squeezes when you try and pull away, but it’s not even hard enough to bruise, he’s simply holding you in place. “You asked for help, and I am here to give it. You paid, and-”

“What are you?” You finally ask, and then you have to close your eyes to try and regulate your breathing.

Holler snorts. “Now you ask. I thought you knew, at first,” he says, finally releasing your face. He still has a hold of your hand though and you wince, eyes opening wide when he brushes his thumb over the half healed cut on your palm. “When you waved. Those who pray are few and far between these days, but you’ve no idea?” He raises one eyebrow, but you can’t seem to find the words to answer him. “I thought not,” he continues, smiling down at your hand. “You could call me a spirit. A legend, perhaps.” He smooths his thumb over your cut again and you jump when a spiral of frost suddenly covers the wound. It melts within seconds, and then the wound is entirely gone.

“Are.. Are you like Jac-”

Holler laughs and shakes his head, finally releasing your hand so he can unwind the heavy scarves from around his neck. “No. We share talents, and perhaps temperament, for the most part. He’s more… sprightly than I am, though. I was telling the truth, when I said I’m Holler. I have other names, but this is one of mine.” He sits back and you blink again, trying and failing not to stare because, how didn’t you notice? How did you write off his strange hands as nothing more than a trick of the light? How could you have ignored the worn, ancient looking coat and scarves and thought he was normal? The first thing he’d asked you had been about whether or not you’d asked for help, and it’s just now seeming to break through the haze in your consciousness.

“I paid you?” You ask, lifting your hand to stare at the barest gleam of scar tissue on your palm. When you look at him again, Holler is back to his joyful self, but now you can see his grin. Every one of his pearly teeth is faintly sharp.

“Prayer and essence,” he says in agreement. “We… spirits are greedy for it. We get so few these days, so if, perhaps you'd like to add to your prayer, to your requests, I would be more than happy to oblige.”

You open your mouth, but then Holler is on his knees in front of you, holding his hand just shy of your parted lips.

“I’m not a djinn. I grant no wishes, but I can give you my favor, or favors, as it were.” His tongue flicks out to wet his lower lip, and it’s shockingly pink after the glimmering paleness of the rest of him. Your heart starts to beat faster.

“...I don’t even know what I would pray for. And I would have to pay more, wouldn’t I?” You draw your hand in towards your chest and Holler’s grin turns a little sharp.

“Essence,” he repeats. “I’ll take blood of course, if you’re willing to give it, but there are plenty of other things to replace that.” Holler leans in, those strange eyes falling closed as he breathes in near your face. You don’t lean back and heat starts to build in your veins. “Your breath alone,” he whispers, and his voice is hoarse again, “is more than worth a night of safety here.”

“My breath as in permanently giving it to you, or-”

“No,” Holler murmurs and he seems to be having trouble lifting his eyelids. “The sharing of it.” He blinks, almost forcefully and focuses those pale eyes on your mouth. “Saliva too, or..”

“Ah,” you say, in sudden understanding.

“Yes,” he says, smile turning wicked. “Whatever you feel like offering, I would be more than happy to accept. You’ve little need to, of course. I promised you aid, and unlike some, I won’t attempt to lawyer my way out of things for lack of exact wording.”

“Strangely enough, that is very reassuring,” you murmur, worrying at your lower lip. You still don’t even know what to ask, to pray for, but you can’t deny that the thought of kissing Holler, of- god, you want to laugh at yourself. Exchanging essence. “While you might not want to.. Lawyer your way out of things, I would like to know what your promise of aid means.”

Holler purses his lips and then lifts his frosty hand, ticking things off finger by finger. “Getting you out of the freezing cold. Letting you stay here for the night. Getting you back to town, unharmed and with your wits intact.”

“My wits,” you scoff, but you can’t stop the smile that blooms on your lips. “Alright then. What happens if I give you essence without a prayer behind it?”

Holler smiles again, leaning in and placing a hand on either side of your thighs. Heat seems to rise in you the closer he gets, but he keeps himself just shy of touching you. “Favors,” Holler repeats. “Whatever I can manage, to match every bit you share.” He leans in until you can feel a slight chill in the air, rolling off of his lips, and then he breathes in deep. “For this,” he says, eyes gone heavy lidded, “you’re guaranteed safe passage through this forest twice over. For a kiss,” he whispers, and you can almost taste him on the air, he’s so close. “For a kiss, you will never suffer frostbite.”

He’s been avoiding saying it, but for every hint about prayers, for the strange way he says spirits, all your mind does is point you to old stories - to tales of gods. You should probably think this through, should reason out potential drawbacks of accepting a favor from someone like him, but you do believe him. You don’t think he’s going to try and trick you with phrasing.

“A kiss, then,” you murmur and shiver as soon as his lips press to yours. He’s cool, but not icy, and the way his mouth moves against yours reminds you of every chilled kiss you’ve ever had, fast warmed by eagerness and breath. He tastes faintly like the sweetness of snow, and when you breath in, cold air fills your lungs. He hums when your tongue brushes against his and moves at a glacial pace, hand sliding along your arm and up to your neck before he reciprocates. Holler doesn’t pull away until you’re gasping, both wanting to lean into his touch, and wanting to lean back towards the fire behind you.

Holler lets go of your neck, reaching down to lift your hand up and strokes his thumb over your knuckles. Another sharp smile steals over his mouth. “And never shall you suffer frostbite,” Holler promises, dipping his head to brush a kiss over the back of your hand. “Care for anymore of my favors?” He asks, trying to keep that devil-may-care smile on his lips. He fails, utterly, by the way he keeps looking at you, almost desperate, fingers trembling in their hold on you.

“Y-yes,” you say, still trying to steady your fast pulse and the rapidly growing ache of desire for him. So you’re spending the night in the company of a god. There are probably too many people to count that would envy you this place, even without favors like safe passage through dangerous snowy forests or never getting frostbite. You won’t refuse the favors, they’re useful things of course, but- you’re more interested in him now than his magic.

Holler moves as soon as you agree, divesting himself, and then you of clothing where you let him, leaving behind spiraling, crystal-like patterns of frost along your bare skin. It seems to melt into you just as fast as it appears, but unlike the traces of his magic, Holler doesn’t melt. Even with the blazing fire at your back and the warm rug underneath the both of you, his spun-sugar skin is still as solid as ever.

“For this,” he murmurs, tongue brushing over the pulse in your neck, “icy air will never sear your throat.” His mouth closes, sucking at your skin until he’s left an ache behind. His hand strokes down your chest and then over your hip, cool fingers digging into your thigh. He makes a soft, desperate sounding groan when you part your legs. “Your warmth,” he breathes, frozen antler brushing over your cheekbone as he presses in close. “You’ve no idea how long it’s been,” he confesses and then shakes when you roll your hips up against him.

“No need to wait then?” You ask, marveling at the cool, feathery texture of his hair underneath your hand. Holler ruts against you then and his sharp teeth find purchase in your shoulder as his coolness warms between your thighs. You still half expect him to melt, to tilt back his head and leave damp traces of his antlers and cheek behind on your skin, but when he pulls his mouth away from your shoulder, leaving what’s sure to be another bruise behind, he’s still whole.

“I would like to draw this out,” he murmurs, the tip of his nose brushing against yours. He breathes in deep as soon as you breathe out. “But I fear I won’t-” You slip your hand between the two of you, hand wrapping around the base of his cock and then he’s breathless, shoulders straining as he tries to hold himself over you.

“If this will gain me help throughout the day,” you start, but he interrupts you, thrusting into your grip as soon as you squeeze.

“Of course, day, night, if it snows-” Holler stops speaking, just presses wet, messy kisses along your neck and shoulder as you work him over, moaning every-time your press yourself against him. You could draw this out through the night, you’re fairly sure, but you’re impatient, too eager to see him spend himself over your belly, to see those frosty cheeks darken with strange shadows- Holler whimpers as he comes, finally pressing himself tight against you, uncaring when the mess is slicked between both of you. When he finally stills, breath panting out against your shoulder, you shudder. You hadn’t realized, not until now, how cold you’re starting to get, but as soon as you make a noise, the cold vanishes. Heat rolls back over you.

“You’ve safe passage through these woods, and my aid, whenever you walk here,” Holler murmurs.

“So I’ll get to see you after this, then?” You ask, and Holler starts to laugh.

“Call my name,” he whispers, trailing kisses back up your neck and along your jaw. He’s seeking your mouth, you realize, and you turn into the motion, enjoying how your warmth chases away the chill of his lips. “Call my name, and I’m yours.”

»»————-　✼　————-««

...turn the page?

[highviewsmoved]

⁂ shigaraki tomura x reader. (old god shigaraki & female reader)  ❝ gods cannot love mortals. ❞

Similar to the seasons, death changes.

There are whispers of an ancient deity that descends when it is someone's time to go. Who appears when men fall in war, in sickness or in their own beds rattling their last breath.

The name of his is unspoken, for he has wandered the earth for years, collecting souls, leaving death and destruction in his wake. An omen of some kind, similar to the caw of a crow. He will exist.

He will be there and he will wait.

Death himself comes for her in early autumn, when the trees are bare, the branches similar to skeletal fingers pushing up from the earth; the leaves stuck wet to the ground after a morning of rain.

She is cleaning, yukata rolled to her legs and sleeves tied in tasuki to keep from getting wet from the splash of water. It was simple, an easy mistake. She suddenly missteps when she goes back to refill the bamboo tub, falling in head first into the freezing stream.

The locals, the people in her village warned her the water is vicious for its current. The current had stolen a child not too long ago, the mother’s wailing echoes could still be heard throughout the mountain. Water fills her lungs, suffocating her, as her head knocks against a rock.

She is now at the mercy of the beast, and she hopes the river deity will spare her. When she resurfaces much later she has blacked out, unknowing what or who had saved her.

She remembers the abyss; white and red.

And the face of a man who crumbles.

--

Her mother tells her she lived because he had spared her.

“Who, mother?”

“Death,” she says simply. “He can be merciful.”

She listens carefully while the porridge cooks, the smell delicious. She grips the rag between her fists tightly, and she thinks she has seen the face of death. He is very similar to a human.

Curiosity gets the best of her. “Is he always alone?”

Mother is quiet for sometime, she’s not sure she may have heard her. Until she finally responds. “Yes, always.”

--

She sees death when he takes the soul of an old man in her village, the grieving of the family being heard as others come out of their huts to see the mourning, and she sees him.

Death is there, and he comes with the snow in winter, so unlike when he comes in spring or in summer. The frost creeps into her lungs, as she watches him, holding firewood close to her chest.

The old man by his side as Death looks at her, his spider lily eyes holding hers, as if enchanted; and she feels the tickle of snow on her cheek.

She does not cry, but her heart feels heavy. How many more people will he leave with?

--

Death stumbles upon her; she is kneeling, gazing up at the old chestnut tree, and when he hears her calling he comes. She has believed in him.

“Do you take away my people?” She asks him, her hands on her thighs, talking to this deity who has been known for so long. The tale whispers about him being the one who appears when death and destruction are at bay. In the middle of battlefields, always by a sea of corpses he steps through. She is not afraid of him, perhaps she should be.

The branches shiver, light splaying through.

He is there and he does not speak.

Her voice shakes, her fists tightening. The feeling of pain gripping her throat. “Where do you take the dead?”

Tomura responds, in a tone crisp like winter. “Home.”

--

His voice is the hiss of a snake, coiled deep around her throat; a warning. “This is a small mercy.” He had been there when the cliff near her almost swept her away, he had come just in time as she thought of him. He had heard her heart.  

She cannot deny him, it is true that all the chances he has given her have been at best, luck. Or maybe it is him saving her. This she does not want to believe. He has saved her many times but has not spared her people. She should despise him.

Her voice is steel and iron, “you have given me many.”

He looks at her, taken aback as if she had slapped him. She exposes him like a wound, she realizes this much too late.

“The last time,” he reminds her, tone poisonous.

--

She has not seen him since the leaves have changed and at dawn he comes to her, underneath the large chestnuts. The wicker basket has fallen, she cannot bear to look.

“Who have you come for?” Her question is lost in the breeze, tears wet against her cheeks.

She is tired of fighting, of trying to fight off death himself (she has not fought him, she has welcomed him) who has come every time the season changes and for the people in her village. For the people she loves.

He has come anyway. Despite no one believing in him, praying to him; except for her and her mother. She hoped he would listen.

“Do not ask such things if you wish to not know the answer,” his tone is cold but his eyes burn against her back; skin prickling at the heat.

She exhales heavily, breath shuddering. She has cried for hours knowing her mother's time is soon. Deep in her heart she has known he will come anyway.

“Please,” she cries gently, then with much more pain, “please don’t take her away.”

Tomura cannot hold her to that. No more. It is time. “You know already.”

Her chin quivers, trying so hard to be strong. “Then answer me this, when will you take her?”

He thought it was obvious enough, but he will give her what she asks. Only this time; always this time.

“At dawn.” Then with much more promise, “I am coming for her at dawn.” If it is this morning or the next or the next. She does not know.

--

She remembers the first time she saw his face, covered in a mess of hair, bright and glowing like starlight. His eyes redder than the spider lilies that bloom across the meadows. They say the meaning behind those flowers is rebirth, to say goodbye. He is clad in all black, the fabric wrapping around him tattered from travel.

“What is your name?” Her knees are touching soft grass beneath her, dewy from the morning. Her heart pounds considerably louder when his footsteps have quieted.

“Tomura,” it is said like a breeze, so gentle that it carries.

She swallows, curious about his name, so she speaks it and the tree branches bend against the power it holds. Leaves fall changing to brown. The wind howls quietly, slipping by through her hair and face.

“Why have you come here, Tomura?” The wind swirls above.

He approaches, shadowed by the shade. “I come to know.”

“Know? Of what?” She turns her head in a peculiar way, eyes full of wonder. How odd for a deity to make themselves known to a human. So many times this god of death and destruction has done this. So many times he has hid in the shadows of mourning.

“Of things I seek and do not understand.”

Her heart trills like a songbird.

“Am I something you seek and do not understand?”

It is brave to ask such things, the temperature has dropped considerably and the birds have stopped singing. Everything has grown quiet, even the god near her.

“Yes,” and he is gone, she turns quickly to see and notices the patch of brown earth where he stood, the lush green that surrounded him, had paid the price.

--

She has prayed to Tomura, the god of death and destruction to protect her people, he has not forsaken them. He has saved them despite the bitter feeling of grief still anew. The loss of her mother, the old man, and so many more. All of it is painful. Living is painful.

Home, he had said. He takes them to a place where they can rest peacefully is what he promised, but she cannot help but wonder if he had created this, or if this was how life always is.

Death is a cycle.

--

She dreams of a large hand, of a wasteland surrounding her; she wanders the terrain filled with nothing, and she sees him. White hair and dark cloak billowing in a wind she cannot feel.

“Tomura?” She calls, and he does not turn, he stands there. When she reaches him he has slowly become dust, withering in the wind, sweeping past her.

She is suffocating from the particles as it wraps around her. She awakens, the fire put out in her home, smoke rising, the fabric of her bedding stuck to her sweaty body. She knows what her dream is about.

He will soon be gone.

--

“Will you die?”

“Yes.”

“How?”

“I fade away.”

“When?”

“Soon.”

She runs to him, closing the distance, her embrace is tight against him, he can feel her heartbeat. Her time ticking slowly away.

She will die of old age. He will die because he loved.

She breathes close; warm breath near his ear, and he sighs. He has dreamed of this. Tomura’s mind goes elsewhere during nights away. He has always dreamed of her.

Her soul he has spared, slowly collecting the surrounding ones. She knew this, yet here she is, with him.

He is feared and known. She is a human.

Gods cannot love mortals.

“Live for me,” she gasps against him. “Fight and live,” she begs, her body shaking with guilt. She has unknowingly brought his end.

“I cannot.”

“What can I give you in exchange? My soul?” He exhales, sounding close to a laugh, a smile cracking his lips.

“I will not allow that exchange.”

She pulls away, eyes filled with bitter tears, and she has never looked more brilliant than ever. She is alive.

He longs to touch her like he has often wished of doing.

So he does. Fingers, crumbling slowly; he touches her cheek, and she is so surprised to find it warm; soothing like the summer sun.

She leans into it, wishing she could have this moment forever.

“Your name—“ she stops, then touches his face, his hair, his lips. Caressing all of him.

“Tomura means to mourn,” he says, eyes glittering.

“I will mourn you, yes,” she promises, his arms wrap around her waist, hands moving towards her shoulder blades. How long has he lived without this? Centuries. Her lips brush close to his temples, “but I will love you always.”

Tomura leans in close, foreheads pressed together, lips breadths apart.

“And I you.”

--

She awakens in the forest holding nothing but black fabric.

--

When it is her time to go from this earth, she is old and weary. She had grandchildren, marrying a kind farmer who passed before her. In her seat she stares out where the chestnut trees stand tall, woven in branches.

The blossoms from nearby waft in the wind. It is her time to go, she grips the piece of black fabric she has held onto.

She closes her eyes, and she rests peacefully, her heart stuttering to a halt.

The way it is painless, as it wraps around her; darkness is not as the stories say; it is not unforgiving. The tunnel of light she moves through as she is back in the wasteland from a dream she had years ago.

Tomura stands tall, cape billowing in a windless desert. She gasps, tears streaming down her face as he is turned to her. Not like the dream of where he seemed so far, but now he is so close.

She goes to him, embracing him once more.

“Welcome back,” she says against his chest, he holds her tightly, no longer crumbling.

“I have been here and I have waited,” his voice is still rough like wood being scraped.

He wraps her close, his hands still warm like sunlight, hair bright and eyes similar to spider lilies.

“You are human?” She asks, pulling away to look at him, eyes searching his features, he still looks the same since the last time she saw him all those years ago.

“Deities are born from humans,” he states, “we are one and the same.”

Her tears are wiped gently with his thumb, fingers gliding across her neck and collarbone. This closeness he has missed.

She grabs his hand and presses her lips to each finger. Tomura no longer takes, he has given and given until her soul found his. They were born for this moment, she no longer hears the sorrowful noise of cicadas in the summer sun, silence has never felt more welcoming.

It is not harsh or lonesome, they have one another.

“I kept a part of you with me,” she confesses against his cheek, and his hands glide down her back, the feeling of her he has craved for years since he left.

He keeps her so close that they could become one. “And you can continue to do so, as long as you stay with me,” he murmurs.

Her breath fans his hair as she brushes her fingers through the locks. “Always and forever.” She is finally home with him.

The promise between god and human has been made, and they stay like this for eternity.

[boxoftheskyking]

Something Good, Part Five

Part One, Part Two, Part Three, Part Four.

In which there are water ghouls.

---

There are water ghouls in Caiyi Town. This is apparently not a new phenomenon, and dealing with them is common enough that the senior disciples can use it as a test of sorts. Lan Wangji has also decided it will be an educational experience for the junior disciples to observe. In reality this is an end-of-the-first-month test for Wei Wuxian called “Herd eleven children down a mountain for two hours.”

They are tired. They are thirsty. Lan Feifei has lost her shoes. Ouyang Zizhen got an extra turn on Wen Ning’s back and it’s not fair. Lan Ting is allergic to some kind of leaves, but will not stop touching all of the leaves. Lan Jingyi is… consistently Jingyi.

Wei Wuxian does not believe in having favorite children—he and his siblings suffered enough under their parents’ favoritism and expectations. And, anyway, these children are far too different to compare. Zizhen is sweet and asks for adventure stories every night and looks at Wei Wuxian like he created the heavens and earth. Lan Feifei has her head in the clouds and the cutest little dreamy smile right before she falls asleep. But Jingyi is truly a child after Wei Wuxian’s own heart.

He’s not the only orphan left after the ambush that Wei Wuxian was blamed for, but he’s the youngest by far and still wakes up crying in the middle of the night. Wei Wuxian rearranged the dormitory so Jingyi now sleeps cuddled up with Lan Sizhui, which seems to help a bit. Wei Wuxian isn’t sure what Sizhui’s story is—he assumes the kid is also an orphan, but occasionally he spends extra time with Lan Wangji that’s never been explained. Perhaps he’s a close nephew or cousin.

But Jingyi is the most un-Lan Lan child of the bunch, and Wei Wuxian is very invested in keeping him that way. He doesn’t remember being four—his memories are fuzzy before life on the streets of Yunmeng, and even that is more images and impressions than any full events. Except for the dogs. But he thinks that four-year-old Wei Ying must have been like this child—excited, curious, incapable of looking before he leaps (off a table, off a step, into the underbrush, into a puddle), only taking a break from asking “Why?” in order to ask “Why not?”

Wei Wuxian loves it, and it drives him nearly off the ledge. Knowing Lan Jingyi as he knows himself, he spent an evening hand stitching extra ribbons into the back of Jingyi’s robes, reinforced around the waist so it doesn’t tear or pull or pinch when he grabs them. Far from being offended or annoyed the first time Wei Wuxian yanked him back on track by his handy leash, Jingyi simply crowed “I’m a horse!” and threw his whole weight forward against Wei Wuxian’s grip, little boots scuffing uselessly against the dirt. 

Without a golden core and after months in the Qishan prison he’s felt weak, scrawny and uncentered in his body. But lately, arms full of laundry and children, hands calloused from work instead of swordplay and more often than not tucked into scruffs of necks or latching onto misbehaving elbows, he’s starting to feel like a person again. Something solid, ground for building on.

Right now, Sizhui is on his shoulders, absently patting little fingers along his hairline, and Jingyi is being dragged along behind him like a dead fish.

“A-Yi, are you going to walk at any point today?” Wei Wuxian sighs.

Jingyi holds on to the leashes and flips himself around so he can look upwards. “Can I run?”

“No you cannot.”

“Then no.”

“Lan Jingyi!” Sizhui calls down from his perch, swatting a low-hanging branch out of his face. “You should behave better. You’ll be all dirty when we get to town and you will get in trouble!”

Wei Wuxian squeezes his chubby knees and turns around to wave the older kids forward.

“Wen Ning! Come here my friend, take this bag of turnips into Caiyi Town. Try to get a good price for it.” He swings Jingyi over and Wen Ning hauls him over his shoulder

Jingyi smiles as he bounces along upside down, singing, “Turnip turnip turnip” to himself all the way down the mountain.

Before they enter the town proper Wei Wuxian does his best to line them up properly and pick stray leaves out of hair.

“Now, young masters and ladies, remember you are representing the GusuLan Sect. Yes? Heads up, hands to yourselves.” The kids shuffle mostly into position. “The Lan Sect is very important to Caiyi Town. You understand? The town depends upon Lan cultivators to take care of problems like these water ghouls. So when the people see you, you want them to be confident in your abilities, yes? We are proud of where we come from. Lan Hua! Eyes front. You’re not just representing your humble Wei-qianbei, you know. You are representing our Hanguang Jun!” At that, shoulders snap back and grumbling ceases. Wei Wuxian feels a rush of fondness and gives them a grinning salute. “Very good! We want Hanguang Jun to be proud of us, yes?”

“Yes, Wei-qianbei!”

“Very good! On we go!”

Wei Wuxian feels like a mother goose, wrapped in grey servants’ robes and leading his white flock through the streets, Wen Ning bringing up the rear. Sizhui holds onto his hand, hopping every third step to keep up. Normally, Wei Wuxian would happily pick him up, but today is about being dignified. He’s glad for the firm little grip on his fingers, though. It’s been a lifetime since he’s been out of Cloud Recesses, and part of him expects the townspeople to spit at his feet. No one recognizes him, though. Passersby stop to watch the procession pass, bowing respectfully to the disciples. Wei Wuxian feels an odd warm pride unfurl in his chest, and when a mother in the crowd meets his eyes and gives him a knowing eyebrow raise, he lets himself laugh. Feast your eyes, everyone! Eleven children!

By the time they reach the edge of the lake, the senior disciples are already out on their boats near the center with Lan Wangji and Lan Xichen, having flown down on their swords earlier. Nothing exciting seems to be happening so far, but there’s a tense hush in the air that can be felt even at the shoreline. It’s just Wei Wuxian and the children at the water’s edge, townsfolk having decided it’s not worth the risk even to get a good look at cultivators in action. Wei Wuxian arranges the children around an ancient tree, roots and branches gnarled and grasping towards the water, so they can rest their tired legs and still have a decent view. Sizhui tugs on his robes until he lifts him back up on his shoulders.

“What’s happening, Wei-qianbei?” Lan Feifei pipes up from beside him.

“Hmm. It looks like Hanguang-Jun and the senior disciples are waiting for the water ghouls to appear. Perhaps they’re seeing something moving in the water.” He wiggles his fingers and puts on his most dramatic voice, and Feifei gasps appropriately.

When it happens, it’s sudden and almost anticlimactic. A boat flips, tossing one of the senior disciples into the air and the other straight into the water. Lan Wangji flies over immediately, hauling the first into a waiting boat and grabbing onto the other’s arms before he’s pulled completely under the surface. Almost immediately there’s a great rumbling sound and the surface of the lake starts to roil.

Wen Ning runs to the edge of the water. “Wei-qianbei! Someone needs to help Hanguang Jun!”

“This isn’t just ghouls,” Wei Wuxian mutters to himself, though he can see some of the creatures moving, just breaking the surface like sentient seaweed, swirling closer and closer to Lan Wangji’s hovering form. “It’s an Abyss.”

If he’s seen it, then certainly the two Jades have as well. He can’t tell what they’re doing from here, but the remaining boats seem to be regrouping, pulling away from the forming whirlpool. Lan Wangji and the drowning disciple are swept up in the tide, pulling closer to the shore where the juniors stand frozen, hands over tiny, terrified mouths. Bit by bit, Lan Wangji is starting to rise from the water, arm now locked around the disciple’s chest. His normally pristine hair and robes swirl around him, soaked nearly all the way through. The walls of water rise and fall around their bodies as the whirlpool increases in size and intensity. Suddenly, a dark tendrilous form rises from the wall of water, reaching towards the men from behind. Before it can make contact, the water whisks it away, but others begin to rise in its place.

“Wei-qianbei!” Wen Ning calls. “The ghouls!”

Wei Wuxian sets Sizhui down and hurries to the water’s edge. “Hanguang Jun!” he yells, cupping his hands around his mouth. “Lan Wangji, get your sword up!”

Whether he’s unheard or ignored, he’s not sure, but Lan Wangji does not react. 

“Lan Zhan!” he shouts, and he can feel the children behind him gasp as Lan Wangji’s head whips around towards him, just in time to duck another ghoul. There appears to be three of them whirling around, closing in little by little as the whirlpool increases in ferocity. From the corner of his eye, Wei Wuxian can see action from the other boats, Zewu Jun leading the disciples in a spell that makes energy crackle across the misty air. But he only has eyes for Lan Wangji and the ghouls.

“Wei-qianbei, do something!” Yao Hualing cries, grabbing onto his sleeve. 

Wei Wuxian shakes her off and grabs his talismans out of his robe. Time doesn’t slow, exactly, but he feels his brain sharpen and focus. He bites at a hangnail on his thumb, ripping into the skin, and brushes a few hurried characters of negation in blood along two of the talismans—one meant to repair broken objects and one to put out fires. If he had his golden core he’d only need a few gestures—or, better yet, he’d have a sword and could fly into the fray—but this will have to do. 

Lan Wangji ducks another ghoul, and Wei Wuxian rethinks his plan. He rips his talismans into three and opens his cut further, drawing out more blood to repeat his characters on each torn piece. Then he pushes them away from him in a burst of energy, directed at the low-hanging tree branch to his right.

With a great crack the branch shatters into three pieces, all of which burst into flame and arc through the air to collide with each ghoul. There is a series of terrible screams and a smell of burnt grasses, and the ghouls sink below the surface. Lan Wangji rises up out of the water, the now-unconscious disciple wrapped in his arms. As he hovers, the whirlpool suddenly moves back across the lake, seeming to be pulled by a great force. 

Wei Wuxian misses whatever Zewu Jun is doing to address the Abyss. He probably should be paying attention to explain it to the children, but the gaping emptiness in his gut feels no smaller than the whirlpool Abyss itself. He finds himself on the ground, hands holding his body up, gasping in the wake of spiritual power. All humans have a reserve of some power naturally, but without a golden core to focus and grow it, it’s like a spark that never catches tinder. 

He feels a collection of little hands on his back, in his hair, a buzz of worry surrounding him as he coughs up blood. He’s just getting his breath back when one of the children screams, then another, then there’s a mighty roar that shakes the ground and almost forces out the rest of his breath. He shoves himself back onto his heels to see a wall of black-green water, taller than the tree beside him and advancing like a storm. 

“RUN!” he screams, shoving whoever he can reach behind him, picking up Sizhui by the back of his robes and throwing him at Ouyang Zizhen. He manages a step forward, arms held out in front of him, but there’s nothing inside him. No power, no fire, no anything. Even if he could get a spare talisman out, it’s nothing against the mass of water. He reaches instinctively for any resentful energy in the area, whistling out a tune of power and spitting out blood. But it’s not enough. Not even close.

Every town has a certain amount of latent energy—both spiritual and resentful—due to generations of living and dying on the same patch of land. But it’s not enough, barely anything, a few wisps of black smoke that he desperately weaves into the thinnest barrier, a blanket unable to keep out the cold. It’s not enough.

If this is how it happens, he thinks, his mind sinking into calm, at least I tried.

The last time he almost died, his mind was shrieking, desperate, clawing at the world and trying to hold on. But now, all he thinks about is the children. Run, please, run. And then, from nowhere, Lan Zhan, I’m sorry, I tried.

He closes his eyes and braces for impact.

It doesn’t come.

He feels a cold spray against his face and the skin of his chest where his robes have pulled open. When he opens his eyes, the water has subsided and Lan Wangji is standing in front of him, guqin hovering in the air before him and humming with an undeniable power.

“Lan Zhan,” Wei Wuxian breathes, struggling to his feet.

Lan Wangji turns to him. “What did you call me?”

“Hanguang Jun. I—”

“How dare you summon resentful energy in Gusu.”

Wei Wuxian’s hero worship dies down as his hackles raise. “What was I supposed to do? Let the children drown? Not even try?”

Lan Wangji glares at him, a muscle in his jaw twitching so violently Wei Wuxian is reminded of Jiang Cheng.

“I don’t think anyone saw,” Lan Wangji says, finally, turning back to the lake.

“What?”

“My brother and the others. I don’t think they saw you.”

“I—” 

But he’s gone, sailing out over the lake to the boats at the center, white robes flapping behind him like the wings of a swan.

“Fucking—” Wei Wuxian mutters, but he cuts himself off and wipes his face on his sleeve before turning back to the children.

“My disciples!” he shouts cheerfully, pasting on a smile and holding out his arms. “How brave you all are!”

---

They commandeer an entire inn for the night. It’s been a long day; the children are exhausted, and a storm has been gathering at the edge of the horizon that promises lightning and torrential rain. The children packed into a few rooms upstairs, senior disciples on the ground floor, and Wei Wuxian has ended up with his own small pallet in what was probably once a storage closed. After the children are fed and sent to sleep, he wanders back down to the dining room.

He won’t sleep tonight. He’s tossed between so many emotions—thrill from the adventure, fear for the children, triumph at his successful talismans. But above all, the ache, the emptiness. 

Useless, useless, useless echoes inside him, screams into the dark canyon under his ribs. Completely useless.

It’s one thing to give up puppet armies, raising spirits and casting bolts of dark energy into a battle. It’s another to encounter himself at the moment of crisis, the moment he is truly needed, and to find himself just another man. Mediocre. To face the imminent death of the children he’s grown to adore so entirely. To stand with empty hands before the deluge.

I’m completely useless.

The innkeeper is leaning against the bar, absently reading over a scroll.

“Sir?” Wei Wuxian asks politely. “Can I trouble you for some wine?”

“Indeed, young master!” the man crows, jumping to attention. “Some Emperor’s Smile? The finest liquor in all of Gusu. No, in all the world!”

Wei Wuxian smiles slightly, not quite bitterly, remembering a night on a roof under a clear moonlit sky. The taste of sweet liquor and the smell of sandalwood.

“Ah, I’m just a simple servant. Whatever you have that is cheap will do me just fine.”

The innkeeper narrows his eyes, looks over his damp and rumpled appearance. “Were you with those cultivators that banished our water ghouls today?”

“I was— Yes, I was with them.”

The innkeeper grins, showing three shining gold teeth. “In that case, the drink is on the house. Please, enjoy with our gratitude.” He holds out two delicate white jugs tied with lace ribbon.

I don’t deserve it. I did nothing.

Wei Wuxian grins. “Your generosity will not be forgotten!” He bows and takes the wine back to his closet.

Useless.

With a rumble of thunder that shakes the foundation of the inn, the sky opens above him.

Part Six