#the unicorn is immortal. do not run from anything immortal.

[syn0vial]

why did no one tell me that the last unicorn is metal af.

like,

[spiritedfox]

tag dump auuugh auuug auaughhh

[blindmagdalena]

Center Stage in a Gilded Cage (chapter six)

18+ 4.6k. homelander x f!reader. stalking, kidnapping, imprisonment, abuse, forced relationship, slow burn, eventual smut. gif credit | fic directory | AO3.

“You must never run from anything immortal. It attracts their attention. Walk slowly, and pretend to be thinking of something else. Sing a song, say a poem, do your tricks, but walk slowly.” ― The Last Unicorn

When he first moved into it, Homelander loved everything about his penthouse. He’d given extensive feedback to the interior design team, even going so far as to offer crude sketches of what he wanted.

He’d always had a specific vision for his home: spacious and open, but not vacant. Rich colors that wouldn’t strain his eyes. Windows and mirrors that gave and reflected as much light and space as possible. 

No white walls. 

Not a single blank space. 

He wanted art on the walls, but not just any art. He wanted historic portraits and moments of history. A face on every wall, the same way that the people on TV had pictures of people on their walls.

Pictures of their family.

He doesn’t have a family, so familiar figures from his studies would have to do instead.

His favorite place was his bedroom. The mirrors give not only the illusion of space, but company.

To this day the bed is as plush as it was then. It’s stacked with fluffy pillows, and the sheets are made of soft cotton. They’re always vibrant, always colorful. The staff washes them in gentle detergent instead of bleach.

He spent his first night in that bed with his face buried in the pillow just smelling it.

It smelled like home.

However, the longer he’s lived in his penthouse, the more the spaciousness of it began to feel like absence. The distinct lack of something that he couldn’t quite put his finger on right away.

It eased on the odd occasion that he had company, but as soon as they were gone, it was as though their presence had carved out holes in his home that he couldn’t fill.

He added statues. More portraits. He left the television running because the silence of his own isolation had become deafening. He started spending more time away. His home had gradually morphed from a place of freedom into a finely decorated version of the same horrible fluorescent box he spent his childhood in.

At least in the box he’d known there were people watching him. With him.

How he’d hated it back then. He hated how he could always hear the camera lenses adjusting as they monitored him from somewhere else.

It makes him sick to have missed it even a bit.

Thanks to you, he no longer has to.

There’s an inherent thrill to coming home that had been lost before you. Excitement starts to prickle up his spine as soon as he steps into the elevator and hits his floor. He can’t remember the last time he’s been so excited to go home.

Every day this week you’ve cooked for him, sat with him, laid in his arms, lived with him. In the last three days you’ve come a long way from the timid thing you started as, no longer jumping at his every move. You still tense at his touch, but he’s willing to bet a few more of those massages will remedy that.

Your presence can be felt even when he’s at work. He recently connected the hidden security camera on his balcony to his phone, ensuring he gets pinged any time you open that door. He isn’t worried about you going off unattended that way, given that it’s a hundred story drop.

It makes him smile to see you getting braver, occasionally stepping out onto the concrete to stare out across the cityscape. Soon he’s going to have to take you for that flight he promised. 

While he’s spent these evenings with you blessedly free of obligations, tonight will be different. He has to leave, and he won’t be able to bring you with him. At least not yet. You aren’t ready for that kind of exposure, nor what being revealed as his beloved would entail.

The media would eat you alive. He won’t subject you to them without proper preparation.

He isn’t cruel.

Vought’s hosting a gala that will serve as the early foundation of their campaign to move supes into the military, and as such, the U.S. Secretary of Defense will be in attendance, and it’s Homelander’s job to convince the man of the innumerable benefits of the operation. 

Ridiculous. He might as well try and argue the benefits of a smartphone to a fish.

If these people can’t understand why having honest to god superheroes in their military is a good idea, he doubts anything shy of a hand delivered miracle from God would sway the morons.

It’s just common sense, for fuck’s sake. War has only ever been a matter of who could bring the biggest gun. They will never find a greater weapon than him, much less a weapon that chooses to protect them.

However undeserving of it they may be.

He lets out a rough breath and shakes his head to knock loose the talking points that have been bashed into his skull over the course of the week, determined to leave work at the door. 

“I’m hoooome,” he sings as he steps in through the doorway, the mechanism locking behind him with a soft beep.

It feels good to know you’re safe here. While he doesn’t have enemies, per se, there’s no telling what some lunatic could be driven to do if they knew about you.

“Living room,” you call.

The familiarity of it makes him smile.

This is what coming home was always supposed to feel like.

He hums a little tune to himself as he walks, a slight bounce to his steps.

“Something smells good,” he says as he rounds the corner, finding you curled up on the couch under a blanket.

Cute.

On the table across from you is a neat little stack of glass containers full of food. He cocks his head, pausing to pick one up for inspection. “You meal planning out here or something?”

You slip out from under the throw and stand. Something is… off. He hears you picking your nails before he even looks at you, and when he does meet your gaze, there’s a subtle apprehension you’re clearly trying to mask with a cordial smile.

“It’s just leftovers from lunch,” you say, eyes flickering from the container of food back to him. “How was work?”

“The usual,” he says a little curtly. Due to your unusual demeanor, he’s forgotten the laundry list of complaints he’d saved up at work with the intention of sharing with you. 

In his experience, it’s rarely a good thing when people suddenly start behaving differently.

Especially when they try to hide it.

“Something wrong?” He asks, giving the penthouse a cursory sweep. Everything looks to be in order.

Your eyes widen a fraction, but you catch yourself from looking overly surprised at being caught.

Got’cha, he thinks. He’s spent his entire life reading the subtleties in people’s body language, seeking out ways to understand the things they say when they’re not speaking. The things they won’t say. Particularly to him.

“No, no, nothing’s wrong. I just wanted to… I want to ask you for something,” you say, hands falling to your sides, your spine straightening.

His brows lift, his curiosity piqued. “Sure. Fire away.”

You’ve been here for days, but you haven’t made any requests of him despite his numerous offers. There isn’t a thing in this world he couldn’t obtain for you. Hell, he doesn’t even care if it’s legal. It’s about time you took him up on a little self-indulgence.

“Do you remember my friend John?”

His head gives a sharp little tic of a turn, his brows furrowing.

John.

He hates the effect hearing you say that name continues to have on him. It isn’t as though he has a meltdown every time he hears the name John. That would be pathetic. It’s the most common name in America, for fucks sake. 

However, there’s something particularly vile about hearing you say it with such gentleness.

“What about him?” He asks flatly, hackles rising. He was hoping you’d ask for something fun.

“I’m worried about him,” you say, clearly fighting to keep your tone even. Your fingers curl into the fabric of your pants. 

He doesn’t understand why you’re so nervous. It makes him suspicious.  “And I don’t want him to worry about me. We’ve had a routine for months. So I thought–”

“Oh,” Homelander interrupts, setting the container of food back down as understanding dawns. 

They’re scraps for your stray pet. 

“No problem, I’ll have someone take this to him,” he says, gesturing encompassingly towards the food. 

“No,” you say, the firmness in your voice catching him off guard. “I want you to take me, and I want to give it to him myself.”

He bristles, needles of suspicion creeping further up his spine. “Why?”

Though you’re quick to swallow it back, he doesn’t miss the flash of frustration in your eyes.

“You said you’d take me anywhere I wanted to go. Were you lying?”

He lifts his hand sharply enough to make you flinch, his index finger pointing only inches from your face.

“Don’t you ever call me a liar,” he says slowly, fist curled so tightly that the leather of his gloves groans in protest. “I didn’t say no, I asked you why.”

Your eyes are wide, your heart drumming loudly in his ears. He hates that look of fear, the look that tells him you’re waiting for him to hurt you when he’s never done anything of the sort.

You have no right to look at him like that.

“Because I want to. I want to see him, and make sure he’s okay, and because… because I want–” You stop mid sentence and break eye contact, pressing the back of your hand to your opposite cheek. You take in a slow breath to compose yourself. 

With a start, he realizes your eyes are welling with tears.

“I want to say goodbye.”

At a loss, Homelander stares for a long moment. For the life of him, he cannot fathom how this little charity schtick could possibly be so important to you. Isn’t he enough for you?

You’ve been spending your days carefree in domestic bliss, yet here you are crying because you aren’t taking a box of food to some bum. It’s baffling enough to give him a migraine.

On the other hand, it was that persistent nurturing that drew his eye to you. If not for your diligent care, he may not have seen the same potential in you. He likes that you care. He just wants you to care for him.

He lets out a long-suffering sigh.

“Don’t cry,” he says, voice full of his exasperated bewilderment. He lifts both hands in a placating show of surrender. “Fine, fine, I’ll take you, and you can do whatever it is you need to do.”

“Thank you,” you practically sigh. Your hand drops from your face and you look at him with palpable relief, your lips spreading into a faint smile. He likes your smiles. He likes being the reason for your smiles. That, at least, comes as a slight boon.

He clicks his tongue, observing you for a moment before he blows out a raspberry. He cups either side of your face, stepping in close to you.

“I hate it when you make me take a tone with you, you know,” he says, brushing the tip of your nose with his. Your breath catches. “You should know by now that I can’t say no to you.”

His thumb strokes your cheek. He’s been gentlemanly in your time here, accepting of your hand in his, your lips on his cheek. When he wakes up hard as a rock with your body pressed to his, he’s taken care of himself in the bathroom. Frankly he’s been more than a gentleman; he’s been a fucking saint.

“I’m downright pussy whipped, and I haven’t even gotten any yet,” he huffs through a little laugh, almost close enough to taste your lips. 

He hasn’t felt your lips on his since that night in your apartment. He wants them exactly as they had been. Pliant and without tension or fear, yet still you tense as he holds you close. You place your hands on his chest and though you don’t push him away, they’re braced to prevent him moving closer.

There’s a faint tremble running through you.

“Don’t tell me you’re still scared of me,” he says, offering you the sharp edge of a smile. He means for the words to sound playful, but even he can’t deny that there’s an underlying ache. Insecurity and impatience in equal measure.

Can’t you see how good he’s been for you? He’s had enough of having to beg for and pry every scrap of affection in his life from reluctant hands. All he wants is–for once in his life–to be freely offered tenderness.

“Your strength scares me,” you eventually admit, palms flat against his chest, stare focused on the backs of your hands.

He tips your head back, coaxing your downcast gaze up to meet his. The closeness of you makes your eyes look large and deer-like: a prey animal that recognizes its hunter. 

“It’s unreal, I feel like I’m not…I feel like I’m made of glass when you touch me.”

As a boy he snapped bones as easily as other children snapped twigs. He cradles your skull knowing exactly how much force it would take to crack it. 

You’re right to feel the extent of your own fragility in his hands.

“I won’t break you,” he says, the words little more than a breath.

“Do you promise?” you ask, your own voice barely a whisper.

“I promise.”  

All those that have come before you have taught him his limitations. And yours.

With that, the tension in your arms softens a fraction. He takes a mile from the inch you give, moving to encircle you in his arms. You slide your hands up his chest in turn, moving over his shoulders, around his neck. The way your fingertips settle on the nape of his neck feels like heaven.

Pressing his forehead to yours, he closes his eyes. He listens to the tempo of your heart gradually slow, settling like the wings of a bird finally accepting the safety and kindness of its cage.

Just then, ever so slightly, you tilt your head and lightly press your petal-soft lips to his. The shock of it knocks the wind from his lungs. Joy hits swiftly afterwards, sweeping through his body from his head to his toes. He kisses you in kind, his lips spread in a smile against yours. 

This–more than any kill or record breaking profit for Vought–feels like a victory.

He cups the back of your head as he savors you, branding the memory of your yielding lips against his into his mind. You move to pull back, but his yearning is a beast he cannot tame, and it’s the beast in him that holds you still, intent to relish the kiss just a second more, which becomes just a moment more.

Trapped, you slide your fingers up into his hairline, combing through his sheared undercut into the longer blonde locks. You send a jolt through him when your fingers tighten suddenly, pulling his hair taut between them. 

The sensation shoots through him like a bolt of lightning. His stomach flips, suddenly aflutter with butterflies. He makes a noise against your mouth, which regrettably makes you stop, your fingers going slack in his hair.

It doesn’t hurt–you don’t have the strength necessary to hurt him–but he can still feel it, and it feeds a gnawing hunger in him to be made to feel anything at all. 

“Do that again,” he says between fervent presses of his lips. “Feels good.”

To his delight you slip both hands into his hair and grip it, eliciting a low moan.

Fuck.

He could get lost in this. In you.

Your pulse has kicked back up, but so has his. Your heartbeats dance with one another as you kiss, drowning out the rest of the world. He moves from your lips to your jaw, your throat, peppering hungry kisses down your neck, ignoring the tension he can feel building back up in you.

He could make your whole body sing if you’d just let him.

Your hands move from his hair, pressing once more to his chest. With how weak you are, it takes him a beat to realize you’re actually pushing against him.

An impatient little growl escapes him. He holds you in place, too deep into it to let you go now.

You suck in a shuddering breath, pushing harder. “Homelander–”

His teeth graze your pulse point, and his tongue presses in to taste the rapid flutter of it. The taste of you is intoxicating, your skin salty-sweet.

Do you know his taste yet? Do you crave it the way he craves yours?

There’s fear in you but there’s desire there, too. He can feel it in the way your skin warms under his touch, hear it in the quiver of your breath, and smell it in the heat between your legs. 

“Wait, wait, just–would you just wait–” 

He exhales roughly and pulls sharply back, leveling you with a harsh stare.

“What? What! You kissed me, remember? So which is it; do you want me, or do you just want to be a fucking tease?”

He feels his desire like a longstanding hunger he’s only just become aware of. A painful, gnawing thing that demands he sink in his claws and rip, devour, relish. He’s been so good in all of this that one little taste was all it took for the feel of it to come crashing down on him.

For as badly as he wants you, he wants so fucking badly for you to want him, too.

The look of you is one for the history books. Flushed and wide-eyed, you’ve taken his words with a shock like you’ve been slapped. Your hair is mussed from his hand pushing against it, into it. Your lips are kiss bitten and shiny, plump with all that blood rushing to the surface.

It makes him want to bite them, bruise them, claim them. 

Those same lips open and close as you struggle to form a response before eventually settling on one.

“I’m sorry.”

He recoils from that, features twisting up in displeasure. 

No, no, no.

“I’m sorry, I just–”

“Shut up,” he snaps, letting go of you. He screws his eyes shut, not understanding how he got from where he was a moment ago to where he is now. 

All that sweet delicious heat is fading away, leaving him feeling emptier by the second, his skin prickling uncomfortably under his suit. 

He would be clawing at it if he could.

“I don’t want you to be sorry,” he says, hitting the word like a hiss. “I want you to–I want you–”

I want you. I want you. I want you. I want you. I want you. I want you. I want you. I want you. I want you. I want you. I want you. I want you. I want you. I want you. I want you. I want you. I want you. I want you. I want you. I want you. I want you.I want you. I want you. I want you. I want you. I want you. I want you. I want you. I want you. I want you. I want you. I want you. I want you. I want you. I want you. I want you.

He pushes his hands into his hair, gripping the short strands tight enough to ache, digging for pain so that it might bring him clarity and stop the terrible repetition his mind has latched onto. He can imagine so clearly how things should be, what you should be saying, feeling, and I’m sorry is nowhere in that vision.

He hates that word. It echoes in his psyche like a curse, dragging him back by the throat to the only stretch of time in his life he ever felt weak enough to say it.

Back then, in his days in the lab, Vought was always testing the boundaries of how human he really was. At one point, when he was still a boy–maybe eleven or twelve–they began to reduce his sleep by an hour every few nights.

Each day they would repeat the same grueling tests to see at what point the lack began to affect not only his cognitive abilities, but his powers. Given the sheer amount of Compound V in his system, there were some who wondered if he really needed to sleep at all.

It would have been miraculous if he didn’t. It would be one more aspect of his perfect design that they could pat themselves on the back for. 

Unfortunately for both him and them, it was not so.

When they realized the deprivation did affect him, they wanted to understand how badly. They continued to deprive him until they had reduced his sleep to nothing at all, keeping him awake by any means necessary for days. He begged for sleep. 

It’s a marathon, John, Vogelbaum told him. Eleven days. That’s the record for a human. You can beat that, can’t’cha, tiger?

Tiger. It always made him feel stronger when Jonah called him that.

Ultimately it was less about his perseverance and more about his endurance. He didn’t have much choice in the matter of whether or not he would fall asleep. 

Every time he started to doze off, an alarm would blare in his room, startling him back awake. 

I’m sorry, he would sob, riddled with guilt for the failure.

There was never any answer.

When it was over and neither he nor the scientists had anything to show for it–nothing but misery and a newfound insomnia–he decided he would never be sorry for anything ever again.

His temples are throbbing, his skull aching from the pressure of his own strength. 

Though his eyes are tightly shut, he can feel the searing heat of his laser vision pressing against his eyelids. 

It makes him want to scream, to run, to fly, to break apart everything around him, but he can’t. He’s too powerful to ever allow himself a physical outlet.

When the average man throws a punch to blow off steam, at worst they’ll put a hole in the wall.

Homelander could punch through to the core of the planet. 

Maybe he could split the whole damn thing in half. He’s never been allowed to find out.

Instead, he focuses it all inward. He swallows the feelings like bile and fights not to choke on it, on the tension of his own impossible power straining his muscles. He can’t hear your heartbeat anymore, it’s drowned out by his own blood rushing in his ears.

Or it’s not there at all.

You’ve fled, he realizes. His stomach churns, and still his mind is on a punishing loop of all the things he has ever wanted that he cannot accept he’ll never have. 

I want. I want. I want. I want. I want. I want. I want. I want. I want. I want. I want. I want. I want. I want. I want. I want. I want. I want. I want. I want. I want. I want. I want. I want. I want. I want. I want. I want. I want. I want. I want. I want. I want. I want. I want. I want. I want. I want. I want. I want. I want. I want. I want. I want. I want. I want. I want. I want. I want. I want. I want. I want. I want. I want. I want. I want.

Anger surges through him and the heat of it is painful, twisting all his already tautly wrung innards and flushing them with fiery rage.

She’s not sorry. She has no idea the fucking meaning of it. If she wants to know what it’s like to be sorry, then we’ll–

Arms slip around his neck, and suddenly his mind hits a deafening quiet.

What?

The feeling is so alien to him that it takes several seconds to understand that it’s you. That you’re here. That you’re… holding him.

Faintly he feels the tug of your meager strength, and he leans into it, his cheek coming to rest on your chest, head tucked under your chin.

He opens his eyes, the world still awash in the crimson glow of his lasers, and he feels you flinch at the sheer heat of them. He works to blink the light away, his hands resting on your hips, gripping at the fabric of your pants.

“You’re still here,” he says, voice frayed with confusion and steadily ebbing tension. 

“Yes.”

“I thought I was alone.”

“You’re not.”

Gently, you comb your fingers through his hair. He doesn’t need his super senses to know your heart is pounding. He can feel the hammering pulse of it against his cheek.

Your fear is so tangible he can practically taste it, but he wouldn’t know it existed at all if he went only on the way you’re holding him.

How is it you can be so afraid and yet feel so firm against him?

“It’s okay,” you whisper, a faint tremble in your otherwise firm voice. “You’re not alone.”

Tears sting his eyes. He moves his grip from your hip to the fabric at your back, your shoulder, his hands climbing your clothes with a clawing desperation to ensure every bit of you is real and within his reach. He envelops you in his arms and nuzzles you, exhaling another breath of the terrible miasma that had built up like sulfur in his lungs.

You move your other hand in soothing patterns between his shoulder blades–just as you had before–and with every repetition of the pattern he feels the rage, the pain, the fear, the misery of it all drip away, like a wet cloth being wrung dry.

The two of you stand like that for a long while, focused only on the sound and feel of the other. The burn in the back of his throat and in his eyes fades. By the end of it, he feels heavy with the exhaustion of holding back the weight of his own might.

Slowly, he lifts his head to meet your gaze. You’re somehow even more beautiful than you had been. Your edges are frayed, and though there is lingering fear, it doesn’t repulse him to see it.

Because you stayed.

Your fingers slip from his hair, moving to his face. It isn’t until your thumb moves through the wetness on his cheek that he realizes a tear had escaped the burn of his lasers and streaked down his face.

“I didn’t mean to upset you,” you tell him, and to his own pleasure, he believes you.

“Hey, hey, it’s alright. I know you didn’t,” he says, cupping your face in turn. He brings you forward and presses a firm lingering kiss to your forehead. 

He’s in control again, and he speaks as if that were always true.

“Just like I know you’ll make it up to me.”

He draws away with a crooked smile, the episode fading to a distant corner of his mind as he puts the fractured pieces of himself back into something cohesive. He strokes your cheek, admiring your features. Your eyes.

In hindsight, it’s strange to think that he’s always thought of you as the sweet, doting little rabbit to his wolf. 

Staring at you now, he’s sure he’s looking into the eyes of a fox. 

“C’mon,” he says, siding his hands down your shoulders so that he can take hold of your wrists, guiding you towards the balcony. “It’s about time I take you for that flight I promised.”

Wouldn’t want to keep John waiting for his meal any longer.

( chapter seven )

[quecksilvereyes]

listen its about the last unicorn being fundamentally no different from the harpy and feeling more compassion for her than she does the trapped animals or the humans trapped by circumstance. it's about haggard grabbing the unicorn only once she has become human enough for him to drag her down and realise her eyes are empty. it's about schmendrick and the magic that lives in him more than he wields it, it's about "never run from anything immortal, it attracts their attention" while walking slowly from an unspeakable horror devouring an old woman, it's about "how dare you come to me now, when I am this?". it's about the unicorns staying in the water until they can't anymore, until the castle crumbles and the one unicorn who is different from the others now - she lowers her horn and she digs her hooves in and she stands her ground for a dear, dead boy. it's about the trade of immortality between schmendrick and the unicorn, it's about stories needing to be told, it's about lir loving the unicorn enough to know that she cannot stay with him, and to let her would be to do her a disservice.

it's about "your name is a golden bell hung in my heart. i would tear myself to pieces to call you once by your name." it's about regret.

(it's also about little 5 year old me renting the movie from the library whenever i could and watching it on loop for hours. it's about just how much this story has shaped me and my understanding of storytelling.)

[things-arent-what-they-seem66]

Hiya! It's me, dude!

Seeing as we finished our moth one, I have to keep you busy. So, I have a new au for you!

This one is based on The Last Unicorn. I'm not sure if you've seen the movie, but you should definitely watch it. It was made in the 80s, so it's a tad old. But it's a gooden. I've changed the story a little bit.

I'm going to try and keep it short, but you know me.

Adam is the last unicorn, basically just living his life. Every other unicorn have been killed for their power.

Alastor is the big bad in this. He's the Red King and has been using the unicorns for their power. He's basically immortal at this point.

Lucifer is a knight in this. His story is that he's the real king and is trying to kill Alastor. So there's a bit of a selfish reason behind him helping Adam.

Lucifer knew there was only one unicorn left, and if he could capture it, he could use its power against Alastor.

Unfortunately for Lucifer, he finds the unicorn, but as it's being attacked by the Red Deer, a minion of Alastor.

Lucifer decides to turn the unicorn human to stop the deer from being able to find it. That's where he meets and names Adam.

Adam hates Lucifer at first, recognizing that he's only wanting to use him, like every other human. Lucifer tried to convince him otherwise, but it didn't work out very well. Eventually, Lucifer finds himself falling for Adam. He doesn't know if he wants his king title back or to just run away with Adam.

Adam doesn't enjoy being human. Everything is so different. He doesn't trust anyone, especially anyone who could work for Alastor. It takes him a while to trust Lucifer, but he eventually gets convinced that he helped him to keep him safe. But in the back of his mind, Adam knew the real reason.

Lucifer falls first Adam falls a lot later.

Of course, there has to be some angst. Alastor eventually works out that Adam is human, and he actually manages to kidnap Adam.

And I'll leave it there. It's basically dark fantasy- but it's not too dark! I promise!

Ima right a little bit- feel free to join if this interests you 😫😫

---

Lucifer trudges through a thick forest. The trees are suffocating. Everything made Lucifer feel uneasy, like he's being watched. But he needs to be here. He needed to find it.

The forest was so quiet, but Lucifer could sometimes hear the snapping and crushing of dead wood. The sound was all around him, sometimes far away, sometimes close.

Looking up, he could barely see the sunlight, but small beams were able to penetrate the trees, illuminating the way in front of him.

He heard the breaking of branches and trees again. This time, he could also hear the heavy falls of hooves.

He managed to duck behind a fallen log when, in the distance, he finally saw what he had been looking for; a white unicorn. It was beautiful. It's furr glistening and looked so unbelievably soft. Lucifer could see its golden eyes from here.

Lucifer was brought out his trance as his vision was assaulted by a giant, red flaming deer. Its huge antlers smashed through ancient trees, its hooves crushed vegetation, and killed small animals that were too slow to get out of the way.

He recognized the creature instantly, a minion of the Red King Alastor. The bastard manipulated his father, lying about Lucifer. His father made Alastor King.

He needed that unicorn before the Deer got it.

He sprinted off after them. Lucifer didn't have a plan, but he knew he had to do something to the Red Deer. That fucker was going to make Lucifers plan difficult.

Finally, Lucifer made it to a large clearing. But in front of him was a large, jagged cliff. The fall would kill anything, even a unicorn. That's when he saw the deer and unicorn running straight towards the cliff.

While running, he had an idea on how to save the unicorn. He just needed to get a little closer.

As he ram towards them, he could feel the head from the deer. Is wasn't warmth from a fire bit more the air around him reacting to the beast. It's skin looked sick and acidic.

Lucifer yelled some ancient words towards the unicorn. His mother was well versed in magic, so he picked up the arts easily.

With a flash of light, Lucifer saw the unicorn disappear, and the red deer ran off the cliff. But it didn't fall. Instead, it took off to the sky, soon turning to a thick smoke before disbursing.

Lucifer looked from the sky to where the unicorn was. The light is now gone, and left behind is quite surprising to Lucifer. A brown haired man lay in the grass.

Lucifer ran towards him, the clanking of his armor woke the man up.

Lucifer stopped in his tracks as he saw how beautiful the man is. He looked perfect in every way. The only thing that wasn't human about him was the four pointed, golden star on his forehead, where his horn was.

Lucifer unclipped his white cape and quickly covered the man, he didn't look completely aware yet.

But what took Lucifers' breath away was his stunning, golden eyes, that captured the sunlight.

---

Hope that set the scene and made it more interesting for you 😫

Okay- bye!

I haven't seen the movie but man!! Hit me with this! I love Al being the bad guy so much hehe. Bare with me because I will go off script lol 😆

-

Adam could feel the soft grass against his cheek, when did he lay down? He was running away only moments ago and now it was as if he collapsed. But he didn't remember falling.

He felt something get draped over him, so he opened his eyes to see a human man looking at him with equal parts wonder and concern. It had been so long since a human had been this close it freaked him out. He jumped and tried to back away, they killed all his friends and family!

Luicfer: Hey, woah woah woah, it's okay I'm not going to hurt you.

Adam: Says you.

Did that come out of his mouth? Since when could he speak English?

Lucifer grinned, oh good he would be able to talk to him that would make things so much easier. He helped him up into his wobbly two legs.

Two!?

Adam looked down and..... He was human!? What the fuck was this sorcery??

Adam: What did you do to me!?

Lucifer: I saved your life from that deer thing! It was chasing you and..... Well unicorns do exactly fly.

That was Pegasus, another one Alastor was hunting but because they could fly they were a little harder to get.

Adam glared: I know that! Fuck....

He never thought a unicorn would have such colorful language.

[a-ramblinrose]

“He ran,” the unicorn said. “You must never run from anything immortal. It attracts their attention.” Her voice was gentle, and without pity. “Never run,” she said. “Walk slowly, and pretend to be thinking of something else. Sing a song, say a poem, do your tricks, but walk slowly and she may not follow. Walk very slowly, magician.”

Peter S. Beagle, The Last Unicorn    

[yandere-fics]

Sending this twice because tumblr's been eating my asks.

Freaky Friday scenario with the OCs where they swap bodies?

Think it would be pretty interesting as some of the delusional one's would probably be like "heck yeah I'm closer to my darling now" (Granted Ainsley would then realize her darling is now in control of her body and has no idea how to control her magic.)

Wile some who have cities or kingdoms to run would kinda be in a dilemma as they can only call off so many meetings until there's one that's too important they cant't.

ant then there are the one's who aren't human like veronia and Kassien who have to understand and adjust to how their darling's body works.

(Yeah I don't know why tumblr eats requests so much, usually what happens is I will see on my phone that there's a request but then when I click to see the full thing, it's not there so I can't tell what the full thing was. Also I watched that movie so much as a kid, I had the biggest crush on Lindsey Lohan though at the time I didn't realize it was a crush cause I thought it was normal to think that way about girls.)

♡ How They React To Switching Bodies With Their Darling ♡

♡ The Kingdom Version ♡

♡ Girl you live like this? It really doesn't matter how fit and healthy you are, elf bodies are a finely oiled machine and she happens to be an extremely high ranking elf so a human body is a violin that has been played since you were five, versus something that was artisanally crafted for years before being put away for display only. ♡

♡ She will be judging you and that judgement will be very apparent. It's out of love but it might make you feel a bit bad, to be far though you lived in her body too so you know exactly why she's saying this. By the time you return to your body, she's got you on strict vitamins and a morning shake that tastes like death and she will force you to keep the routine up because she wants you to feel just like she does every day. ♡

♡ If you two have not bonded, meaning you're still immortal, she's a million times worse because she can actively feel herself dying. This bitch is watching The Last Unicorn and kinning the unicorn. The pressure is also on to bond quickly cause she wants to preserve your health. She's so annoying because this bitch has never been sick a day in her entire life and it shows. ♡

♡ Kassien is pissy, she has no strength to threaten you into submission anymore. At least she would be pissy until she sees you stumbling around because her wings are throwing you off balance. Still she does really hate this. She already has a complex since she's only a mid ranked demon, and now she has to exist as a human for a bit. ♡

♡ On the bright side, she's only a mid ranked demon so you can't completely destroy everything and she has a fighting chance since you're still so uncoordinated whereas she feels faster than ever. She's so glad that she installed a heavy lock on her apartment door before this happened, otherwise it would be harder to keep you from using this to your advantage to just leave. ♡

♡ Rest assured by the way, anything you try to do while she is momentarily out of control, will be remembered and punished thoroughly as soon she can get back in her fucking body. She's trying very hard to remain calm but this is very angering. ♡

♡ She's finally mortal and capable of dying for the first time in centuries and she hates it. Before you this would have been a boon, just jump into a humans body and just off a bridge. Bada bing bada boom, her issues are solved. But this isn't a regular human body, this is her reason to live's body so she now has to do the one thing she thought she'd never do, do something to purposely prolong her lifespan. And yours too since she remembers just how weak mortals are, being in your body for a bit. ♡

♡ Firstly you two have to go to The Boss. No assassinations are happening that week since The Boss only has one professional assassin on payroll. She's not used to the proportions of your body so she would not be able to kill, plus she wouldn't want to do anything that might put your body in danger. There's no way you'd be able to do them either despite being in her almost robotic body that can throw a pencil through an eyeball and somehow instantly hit the part of the brain that kills them.(She tested it once or twice) ♡

♡ You're not going to see much of her for awhile once the situation has been resolved since now she has to work overtime to make up for the lack of assassinations. Luckily this reminded her that she also needs to solve the issue of your mortality. Being in a mortal body again reminded her how much she's changed and how much she only wants to live for all eternity with you now. ♡

♡ She's a pervert. Nasty, spray her with a spray bottle, please. Her first instinct is to dress you up all sexy and take photos so that way when she returns to her own body she can enjoy them. If you tell her not to then she won't but she'll probably feel up your entire body so she knows exactly what your weak spots are. ♡

♡ She's not even bothering to try to switch back, honestly you need to be close to her since you want your body back so it means she gets to keep you, though her attitude will change once she realizes if things stay this way then she never gets to kiss you since kissing her own body would be fucking weird in her opinion. She's not into that crap. ♡

♡ Your poor body has been violated by her grubby hands, even when you switch back you feel like you've lost any remaining purity you had since she now knows your every nook and cranny. So have fun with that, she can play you like a fucking fiddle. ♡

♡ This is the most fear she has ever been capable of feeling. Perhaps it's because she's in your body that her emotions aren't quite as dulled but she's actually frightened on several levels. Although she knows nothing bad is likely to happen, especially since she can switch you back very quickly, there are several bad thoughts running through her head before she finds an artifact to switch you back. ♡

♡ Her first concern was you accidentally finding out how to switch back to her original form. Her original form is large enough to destroy the city in a moment if she ever went back to it, and it's only gotten larger as she's accumulated more power. The other worry was you figuring out how to use her binding power and using it to keep her away from you. That would just be devastating. ♡

♡ When you two are back to normal, she doesn't say much but you can tell she's shaken because she forces you to sit on her lap and occasionally kisses your forehead as she does her paperwork. Paperwork is most of the work she does so meetings weren't too much of a worry for her, she had way more pressing concerns. Like her eldritch powers that should never fall into mortal hands, let alone the hands of her mate who doesn't know what's best for them. ♡

[ladytauria]

2, 3, 5, 6 (and will you read it in the upcoming year), 10 ,14, 18, 20, 24 y 25!

thank you for asking!!! i had to grab books from last year bc this year was a bad reading year for me, but the questions were/are fun!

2. Did you reread anything? What?

i reread the last unicorn yesterday!!! bc i was feeling nostalgic. i made. a BUNCH more highlights in my kindle. (altho i read my physical copy lol.) there's just... so much good stuff in there, aah.

(oh ik u sent me an ask about this, idk if you saw it--ik tumblr is goofy--but its here! also, minor clarification: it doesn't have a *sequel* but there's a pair of novellas, released as one book, that are set in the same world!)

3. What were your top five books of the year?

i. didn't read very much this year at all. (er, published books! i did read a ton of fanfic). the beginning of this year was exTREMELY stressful, and in the latter half, all the books i started just. failed to grab me :/

that said!! i met my reading goal last year, so i will just include those!!

One of the books I did read this year was The Cybernetic Tea Shop by Meredith Katz, a v cute novella about a mechanic & an android. It's set a few centuries in the future, where robotics have advanced significantly. Intelligent AI were banned a long time ago, but those few whose bodies have not eroded / code hasn't corrupted are allowed to remain. The android in the fic runs a Tea Shop, which she inherited from her long-deceased lover <3 (The book is also sappic! I would love to read more of Katz's work.

Also, like I said, I reread The Last Unicorn, which I think would be on a top 5 in general for me, if I were ever to attempt to narrow that down xD. The prose in this book is beautiful; there are so many lovely lines. And the themes in the book--the play of mortality vs immortality, the structure of fairy tales & how the ppl in this setting are v much bound by them--are present from the very beginning, which was a fun thing to pick up on during my reread xD

All Systems Red by Martha Wells! I read a lot of sci-fi last year for some reason? Anyway, I adored this. Murderbot is a fascinating pov character & I love the choices Wells makes with it. My only gripe is that I could not immediately go out and buy the rest of the series.

Elatsoe by Darcie Little Badger!!! this was. so cute. It's YA, I think? Yes, okay, Storygraph confirms this. The writing is lovely, and I adore the main character and the story! One thing you see a lot of--or, actually, I guess I should say I see a lot of--in YA is like. The rebellion against authority figures? Parents are often antagonists, and I understand why this is, but it was very refreshing that in this book Elatsoe's parental/adult figures were so present & involved & like. There was this mutual respect between them that I adored. Also, she can talk to ghosts? And solves her cousin's murder by doing so! And she has a ghost dog. What's not to love?? (Oh, and she's ace, which I think I remember her mentioning explicitly! Also, the way Native culture is threaded through the book is just. Lovely.)

Am. Am I already at 5. How did. How did I get to 5 already 🥺 *kicks foot* Okay. I. Would not be me. If I didn't mention Nona the Ninth. The only reason I didn't rec the Locked Tomb series to you is bc you mentioned not wanting sci-fi, and while there are a lot of fantasy elements, it is. Very sci-fi. Anyway. I admit that I was not enthused about going into this book. Nona was originally going to be a novella, released between Harrow & Alecto, and when I heard it was getting full novel status I was. Kind of not happy. But oh my god. It was so good. The first half, or maybe even 2/3rds, of the book is very slice-of-life, with Nona going to school & planning her birthday party (despite being only 6mo old). You can tell there is more Plot happening, but Nona is v much oblivious and also being kept out of it. And then the last half/3rd is Plot-Plot-Plot. And my god. That ENDING. Alecto can't get here soon enough, I'm. I need it. I need it. OH. Okay, no, I was right when I said half bc this book is the first split POV, in that every other chapter / every couple chapters is narrated by Jod. (The God Emperor, John Gaius) while he tells his story. It was fascinating, I thought I would hate those chapters, but he is. Such a compelling antagonist, omg. Also there were more memes uwu. First book I ever annotated along with as I was reading, too!! I---

Stopping. Cutting myself off. Sorry; these books make me gush.

5. What genre did you read the most of?

Normally the answer to this is fantasy, but! I think Sci-Fi won out <3

6. Was there anything you meant to read, but never got to?

Yes! Both last year and this year I meant to read some of my spooky-ish books for October and did not. Specifically! I meant to read:

Carmilla & Laura by S.D. Simper -> I have so many of Simper's books on my kindle, but this one is a standalone, which I've been prioritizing so I don't go buy more books w/o reading the ones I have. This is a re-telling, which I was going to read with / around the copy of the original that I have.

Plain Bad Heroines - Emily M. Danforth -> I believe this is told in a dual timeline? After three people are killed at a girls' boarding school, it closes its doors. Over a century later, a bestselling book is written about the girls and inspires a horror-film adaptation, filmed on-site. And I'm just going to use the last line of the goodreads blurb, bc it makes me want to read it now: But as Brookhants opens its gates once again, and our three modern heroines arrive on set to begin filming, past and present become grimly entangled—or perhaps just grimly exploited—and soon it’s impossible to tell where the curse leaves off and Hollywood begins.

My Dearest Darkest by Kayla Cottingham -> One of the books I did start. I'm 9% in. It's a YA novel, also set at a boarding school. A group of girls accidentally summon an eldritch horror who promises to grant their every desire... for a price, which becomes steeper and steeper as time goes on.

The Lost Girls by Sonia Hartl -> Also YA! I got this one recently. A vampire turned by her boyfriend ends up falling for his latest victim, while plotting with his other exes to kill him.

There are a lot more I'm carrying into next year, but I am most disappointed in not getting to those!

Oh, and the Priory of the Orange Tree. (I'm. 20% through. This one is a Beast!!)

10. What was your favorite new release of the year?

I don't buy a lot of new releases for cost reasons---these days most of my books are purchased through ThriftBooks or eBook sales (I am subbed to a few sites which notify you of deals; my favorite of which is BookBub). However! I had Nona pre-ordered <3 So. Nona.

14. What books do you want to finish before the year is over?

any of them.

going into the new year with only 2 books read last/this year makes me very sad 🥺

18. How many books did you buy?

i plead the fifth

also i have no clue

20. What was your most anticipated release? Did it meet your expectations?

gotta go with Nona. i was a weird mix of both unenthused (bc this was supposed to be kind of a side novella) and enthused (bc i love this series and i wish i could do what Tamsyn Muir does) but it not only met but surpassed my expectations. Nona was... Nona's identity was a core mystery of the book; she was, more or less, a brand new character who never showed up in the previous two books, so i was. skeptical of going in, let alone to her pov.

but.

it was so good.

i. already gushed about it. i'm not. i'm not going to do it again.

24. Did you DNF anything? Why?

think i might be DNFing The Bookshop & the Barbarian. love the premise but i've noticed. a few issues in the text.

one i have def for sure DNF'd is Alma Katsu's The Deep. her books are horror + historical fiction. i finished The Hunger (which follows the Donner Party) but it was. very much a slog. i didn't like most of the characters, the horror was there but the reveal was lackluster to me. it got 3 stars tho bc it was very much a "this book isn't bad, just not for me" type of read? (there was an aspect i did like / even found kind of funny, but i--- hm. ig if you go in not knowing like, the names of the party members it would be a spoiler to say it, but otherwise i guess its... not a spoiler? idk??? i dunno, there was a subversion that i loved, but also i'm not super familiar with the specificities of the Donner Party so it may not have even been a subversion, if her telling was that accurate? i realize this is vague. apologies.)

The Deep is supposed to be abt the Titanic which. i love the Titanic, and i love ocean horror (it's a close second to arctic horror for me, and one day i want to find a book that scratches the same itch as The White Vault podcast does). but i realized early on that it wasn't a match for me, and i wish i had DNF'd The Hunger as well.

25. What reading goals do you have for next year?

my reading goals are the same every year---26 books. that's a book every other week! originally i used to set it to 52 but i've had too many bad reading years.

my secondary reading goal is to cut my TBR (of books i own) in half. i don't. i don't want to admit how many that is bc. just looking at the number on my kindle makes me feel bad.

[lunarscaled]

❛  You must never run from anything immortal, it attracts their attention.  ❜

THE LAST UNICORN (1982)

-> The forest will never be grateful to you for anything. It is an anomalous entity: It lives and breathes and knows spite again you, but it will never be thankful for how you treat it, because it has lived longer than you. It is entitled to your care, simply by virtue of its existence. That doesn't mean Lyric doesn't feel spited by how they get lost in it---it doesn't mean they're not cleaving their way through any branches or nettles that stand in their way with cold precision sharpened to a knife point and wishing they knew where the hell they were, or that something would work in their favor, or that it wasn't getting dark, or anything. They can't even tell how close or far behind them he is anymore, it's all a blur of noise in their senses: they are running for their life and will not turn around. They hear the ear-splitting CRACK of a tree being felled. It is to frighten them, or is he that upset? ( i'm thinking of ending things, they had said with their hands braced on either side of the sink, their chest heaving as their throat stung raw from the retching of trying to unstick whatever had become lodged in their lungs. No---, they sharply corrected themselves, staring at him shadowing the doorway to the bathroom in the reflection of the mirror, I mean: I'm ending things. ) He couldn't actually care that much about it, a Great Earl of Hell of all things. This is just a farce; a bit of play as punishment for making the fool of him. They strung him along the whole time on the verge of collapse and still didn't give him their soul. All they fed him was paltry bits of blood and time as if he were no more than an imp. Of course he'd be upset about that.

-> The heel of their foot hits a tree root covered in moss at the wrong angle and they know they've twisted something before they even hit the dirt by the sharp pain that follows it. Their body and all its momentum stumble and roll another half dozen feet, grass stains in their sweat-soaked t-shirt and dirt in their knees, they feel a sharp branch lodge into the skin of their shoulder that makes them hiss as they roll to a stop on their back covered in leaf litter. Pieces of cover in their hair, the darkening canopy of trees overhead---they hear him before they see him, trying to push with their palms to a sit-up position. His voice, once smooth and sharp, has become warped by many and verges on a cacophony they do not understand. You must never run from anything immortal, it attracts their attention. He comes to view by blocking out the light. He is more bird-like than man, each four-toed step sinking deep into the dirt and rotting it, his height theirs nearly twice over and his wings an arc of shadow behind him. He exists like he is not of this world: in some way that's true, and yet in the same breath it is not. They can't even be sure this is the real form or not, or if it is just a fragment of it he has taken to frighten them. When he moves to speak, his beaked maw opens slow, its appearance covered in a viscous black ooze. It does not move to articulate, but leans forward and tilts its head to one side coyly. Done running already?

"---Fuck off!"

-> A tried and true protest even as blood stains their skin and shirt from open scratches and lodged branch. Their chest rises and falls so quick they think they'll pass out; something in them still feels sick and frail as it did when they were contracted with him, but now it feels like an old wound, an aching injury. It yearns for some kind of freshness just to give itself more shape.

"I already told you that you don't have anything to do with me anymore! What's even the point of this!"

[auraguardians]

3 & 4 for the mun questions

questions for muns.

; [ So the answers are going under a cut because this got a bit long, OOPS! I ramble too much, lol~

3. whose writing has impacted your writing style the most? (you can choose anyone! famous writer or not.)

This is actually tough! I'm a huge Tolkien fan, but don't think my writing style is much like his (except, maybe, the humor?) I also adore Diana Wynne Jones and think I do have a similar way of working in hints of foreshadowing and dramatic irony...

But the author whose style I actually did try to emulate when I was younger was Peter S. Beagle (The Last Unicorn) because I truly love the way that book is written. (It's also probably the book and movie I've revisited the most times... had that film on loop as a kid, ha!)

It hits ethereal, poetic notes and then turns stuff on it's head, brings it down-to-earth for impact or humor (or both!) And some of the lines in it have just stuck in my brain forever, like: "No name you give her would surprise or frighten me. I love whom I love." AND "You must never run from anything immortal. That only draws their attention."

Or, this absolutely ICONIC scene where Molly Grue joins the party:

4. which muse of yours is your all time favorite? if you stopped writing them: why?

oocI'm not sure I can pick ONE! The handful of active muses I have right now --- Riley, Repliku, Xion, Yato --- I think they are all qualify as my favorite in some way? They all have some personality traits and histories I can relate to, and other aspects I have fun exploring!

They are the ones I keep coming back to, over and over, for a reason.

My Repliku and Riley both almost count as OCs at this point because canon didn't give them much and I've added a LOT to both of them. Headcanons, development, etc... So it's only natural I would love them, because I've shaped them.

But I DO think I have to pick Repliku as my one-true-favorite?

He was the first muse I brought to tumblr! And, for those that don't know much about Kingdom Hearts, I always disliked how his canon story played out --- it never seemed fair! He was a copy/clone of a major character, yes, but he wanted to be his own person! It feels wrong that other similar characters got chances to grow while he... got killed-off-for-real?

Anyway... to quote another clone: "the circumstances of one's birth don't matter; it's what you do with the gift of life that determines who you are." And I think I've given Ryu a chance to figure that out, too.

[spinobsessed]

Stakes Thoughts in REAL TIME

STAKES STAKES STAKES YESSS FINALLY IM SO EXCITED THE INTRO IS DIFFERENT YES

this actually ended up being kinda long lol

I love how Marcy’s hair puffed up when she shrieked

lmao she’s carrying a whole tree and threw it through PBs window 😭

I didn’t know the lab was so early on, I can respect that Marcy wants to grow up. I’m pretty sure that she’s immortally the age she was bit while PB just lives forever in a young adult body (so her mind grows up too, unlike Marcy)

omg she sucked the blood from the farm animals and Jake is going crazy

“it looks like you’re not sure if you did it”

“okay I’m not sure!”

OMG IT ENDS WITH HER BEING BURNED? IM WATCHING THIS ON HULU SO I CAN JUST SEE THE NEXT EPISODE BUT THAT MUSTVE BEEN SUCH A CLIFFHANGER FOR WHEN IT FIRST AIRED

omg baby marceline and a song that inspired spinel

double omg child marceline and simon

TRIPLE OMG A MARCELINE I HAVENT SEEN

“I’m in the sunlight I’m not a flipping vampire!”

she’s fighting all the vampires yay

omg vampire king

however did kids stand to wait for the next episode

LMAO WHAT DID THE VAMPIRE KING JUST DO TO THE ELF LOOKING THING

“didn’t your daddy give you demon powers?”

“my dad never gave me squat!”

Marcy getting bit really does look like SA (got this from a TikTok I saw a while ago)

Lmao Finn dropped the garlic bomb, Jake was coughing from the fumes, Pep But slipped on the juice, and PB just laughed at them

she’s so 😍

I’m skipping the theme songs this time around

I love how she kinda hugged the stalagtights when hiding behind them

now they’re running away and screaming

is this poetry what is marceline doing

next episode let’s go

I love the texting, WHY IS LSP HERE?

FINN WHAT ARE YOU DOING LMAO?

LSP threw too many stakes so Finn ran off and ran into Jake who accidentally threw the stake he had which cut the rope LSP was held up by and she fell onto PB who dropped the garlic bomb, which is the same garlic bomb that was dropped earlier just taped together. I love stuff like that

omg they’re getting into the house Jake made that’s so funny

Marcy is sick nooo

Marceline looks so so so hot in that outfit with her hair up and silver and stuff, PB looks so done with Finn and Jake just burping at Marcy 😭

“it’s excessive pride or arrogance”

“that’s like you PB 😃”

“I believed in myself so much I never considered the possible consequences”

“don’t believe in yourself so much then dumb dumb”

LSP CHILL 😭

They misheard PB and spent hours trying to stake her instead of taking her back to the castle that is so real

“THATS HER VOICE?!”

“let the crystal meduim work its magi- it’s science” PB doesn’t believe in magic so she would freak if Marcy’s fate was put in the hands of that

aww the banana guards miss PB there was a group hug that’s so sweet

Omg PB is counting in another language is it German again? I wouldn’t expect it to be anything else’s but the Hulu captions just say “foreign language”. It sounds like “5, 6, 7, 8, 9, 10” I love when women speak another language 😍

LMAO JAKE WAS JUST THROWN INTO OBLIVION

Finn kicked VK in the balls omg

“mouth fart code” what 😭

Marcy seems to really enjoy eating again, Ik I would

oh jeez the essence is a giant lamb (also Finn also said “oh jeez” lol)

I wanna know about the perloulnged egg

Marcy what is this song ofc it’s Ice Kings song he has a bad song

omg the candy people are helping the fight, omg flame princess is helping the fight, aww hot dog princess’ little things helped the fight

MY WIFI IS CUTTING OUT WTF THIS IS A HORRIBLE TIME FOR THIS

And we’re back finally

“Now I’m a vampire with fresh mortal memories and- I don’t know- more empathy or something” this line reminds me of The Last Unicorn when Lady Amalthea became a unicorn again and said she was the only unicorn who could feel regret (only mortals feel regret) and also said she felt her human body dying all around her while Marcy just felt her body aging again

Im glad that Marcy could grow up without having to someday die, I knew the outcome of Stakes already but I would’ve been crushed if they decided to let her be mortal instead

that was wonderful I love this show, I doubt there will be any more Marcy episodes this season but I’m content. For now

[robininthelabyrinth]

Prompt: Unicorns won't go near Lan Wangji. They will actually run in the other direction. Wangxian, novel verse.

ao3

There were herds of qilin that ran by the cultivation world sometimes, an often unexpected but longed-for event, and in all of the Great Sects, it wasn’t uncommon to bring babies to them in the hopes of obtaining a blessing.

When they near to the Cloud Recesses, Lan Qiren brought the newborn Lan Wangji.

The qilin took one look and went the other way.

Lan Xichen, who was a little older and already petting one of the qilin by the time they’d run off, was too young to do anything other than yelp and fall on his butt, then cry that his pretty hooved friend was gone too soon. It was Lan Yueheng, who had been minding him, who looked at Lan Qiren and said, “I’ve never seen the qilin run away from someone before. What does it mean?”

Lan Qiren was silent for a long moment.

Then, at last, he spoke - spoke effusively, uncharacteristically, emphatically.

“Shit.”

-

Qilin were symbols of good luck. They represented success, joy, longevity, and fertility.

Lan Qiren had no idea what type of bad luck Lan Wangji had that was bad enough that even the qilin didn’t want to be associated with it, but he was going to do everything in his power to help forestall it.

Even if all he could do was prepare him for it.

“It’s all right if you cannot manage it,” he told Lan Wangji when he first started wielding a sword. No one was good at wielding a sword at first, just as no one took to the guqin on first try, not even geniuses, so it was impossible to tell if this would be the thing where Lan Wangji would meet with failure. “There are plenty of people out there who are not especially good at the sword – or music – or cultivation – and they do just fine.”

Lan Wangji frowned up at him, clearly thinking But I have to support my big brother, and Lan Qiren didn’t really have a good answer to that. Other people might’ve said ‘Well you’re not going to be sect leader so it’s not so important’, but the sheer hypocrisy of such a statement was utterly overwhelming, so Lan Qiren didn’t bother to even try.

“It is of course good if you succeed,” Lan Qiren tried instead, “but even if you do not, you’ve at least done your best. That is all I require of you.”

Naturally, it turned out that Lan Wangji had inherited every iota of his father’s prodigious talent with the sword, and turned out to be a splendid musician to boot.

Clearly Lan Qiren would have to worry about something else.

-

“It’s all right to be sad,” he told Lan Wangji, letting him come to sit on his lap even though he was technically too old for it. His mother had just died, and he’d knelt in the snow for far too long; his little body could use with warming up, Lan Qiren reasoned, so it wasn’t really a breach of decorum. “Not everything in life is good, and you don’t have to pretend that it is.”

He let his eyes drift over to his older nephew.

“That applies to all people,” he said neutrally, hoping Lan Xichen, who was a little too of a people-pleaser, too worried about how other people perceived him, would also learn this lesson. “No one is happy at all times. Such a thing is impossible.”

Lan Wangji tucked his head under Lan Qiren’s chin and curled up.

Lan Qiren tucked his hands around him, trying to warm him up, and privately hoped that this wasn’t what the qilin had warned against. He could deal with the rest, but a life bereft of joy…

He really hoped this wasn’t the one.

-

“What matters is how you live your life, not how long it is,” Lan Qiren said, and both his two young nephews looked at him rather skeptically.

“I thought the purpose of cultivation was to be immortal,” Lan Xichen said. “Isn’t it?”

“Well, yes,” Lan Qiren said. “But if you live your life unjustly, then however powerful you might be, you would become a scourge on the world, something the rest of the world would need to eliminate. Morality, ethical conduct – these are good things regardless of what they achieve for you personally.”

“But that appears to still be an issue with immortality,” Lan Wangji said. “Being evil means other people will kill you, so you aren’t reallyimmortal. Right?”

“Well –”

“If an evil cultivator reaches immortality while the rest of us don’t, isn’t there a chance that there might be something wrong with what we’re doing?” Lan Xichen wondered. “I mean, in terms of the whole cultivation business –”

“People who cheat in cultivation eventually meet bad fates in the end; it’s an immutable rule of fate,” Lan Qiren said, possibly a little too sharply. “Anyway, even if that were true that the evil is right and the orthodox world wrong, would you really rather live in the type of world run by the rules set down by evil cultivators? Even if you could live forever, you would forever have to sleep with one eye open, never able to trust anyone, all alone. What would you rather have, an eternity of that or a brief life of virtue, where you would be admired and trusted, and trust others in return?”

“But shufu –”

“As an illustration of this principle, I draw your attention to the example of Sect Leader Wen.”

That got them to shut up.

For about three breaths.

“What if it was a different type of evil cultivator, one that had friends –”

All children go through this phase, Lan Qiren reminded himself, pinching the bridge of his nose to try to forestall a headache. It always happened, and must be endured, and they would come out fine the other side.

Eventually.

-

“Not everyone needs to have children,” Lan Qiren said, and felt stupidly relieved that maybe here, at last, he might have found the source of Lan Wangji’s bad luck. “It’s a blessing, of course, but there are those who are naturally infertile, or who lose their fertility through injury or illness, and that is just the way of the world. Fate is fate. If your family line lives on through others, you have not let down your ancestors.”

Lan Wangji did not look especially comforted.

“I don’t have children of my own body,” Lan Qiren reminded him. “I consider you and Xichen to be my children.”

Lan Wangji’s face remained neutral, but there was a hint of red at his ears that suggested either embarrassment or pleasure at the reminder – he was an adolescent, it was impossible to determine which – but he still stubbornly ducked his head and stared down at the ground.

“But shufu,” he muttered. “You’re still not…”

He trailed off.

“A cutsleeve?” Lan Qiren asked, and was momentarily reminded of his own adolescent distress on the subject. It was not an especially nostalgic reminder. “Wangji, think of the Wall of Discipline. What rule is there against cutsleeves?”

Lan Wangji frowned, thinking, and then frowned more.

“There is none,” Lan Qiren said. “All attempts to introduce anything like that have been rejected as unfit. While you could piece together a few to try to make the argument, the absence of such a prohibition despite that inclination appearing in every generation is because it appears in every generation. It is not favored, no, but it is not banned, not even if you don’t have children as a result of it.”

He thought about it for a moment.

“Not that being a cutsleeve necessarily means you don’t have children,” he added. “Plenty of men who prefer to cut their sleeve, even to exclusion of an interest in women, will still take on concubines for the specific purpose of continuing their lineage. But it’s not necessary.”

“Shufu,” Lan Wangji said gravely. “Can we please stop talking about this? Please?”

-

Later, Lan Qiren wondered if there had been thirty-three qilin in that herd, all those years ago. He hadn’t bothered to count, and wouldn’t have understood even if he had.

Success, joy, longevity, fertility…

It seemed that Lan Wangji truly wasn’t fated to have those.

All he was fated for was Wei Wuxian.

[rphelperblog]

Legacies Pilot Rp Meme

I am rewatching- feel free to edit or change pronouns for rp purposes- some of them are edited from characters or anything that could make it unsuitable for other means of rp- no particular order

“What if the only difference is who is telling the story?”

“You’re not catholic. You shouldn’t have to confess your sins.”

“You are gonna want to stay out here trust me.”

“I don’t want to cause trouble. I just want a way out of my own life.”

“Make no mistake, these are predatory creatures.”

“Sixth grade in my school we learned the states capitols.”

“Everybody gets along with everybody here gets along really well, sort of.”

When we're young, we're taught the distinction between a hero and a villain, good and evil, a savior and a lost cause. But what if the only real difference is just who's telling the story? “

I'm the only one of my kind. I had never let my guard down, that was until I met, him.”

“I’m looking for a kindred spirit in revenge.”

“is that the knife?”

“What’s the actual story?”

“He isn’t the hero of my story, but when i hunt him down, I will be the villain in his.”

“That would make him a liar and I have had my fair share of liars and there was nothing about him.”

“There is no way that the one time I open up to someone they become a liar.”

“We should get you back before anyone knows you were gone.”

“She’s not special... she is just available.”

“He had his tongue down you know who’s throat.”

“He should no better than to tongue the dark lord.”

“find someone else to love. Someone who could even you out.”

“I try not to get close to people anymore.”

“See, a unicorn.”

“There is that was again.”

“No one asked you to bring math into this conversation.”

“i am an equal oppurtinty evil temptres and your binary assumptions on sexuality- they are dated.”

“she has lost a lot and you know that.”

“Speak of the actual devil.”

“Heathans are having a secret party I am gonna break up in ten minutes.”

“I’ve tried to be her friend. When I was five, nine, thirteen.”

“Everyone here has lost something.”

“Do you think that i am broken?”

“They left you a legacy of darkness to work through.”

“It’s a supernatural problem called codependency.”

“It’s just that I don’t want to hurt anyone.”

“Remember the way we danced in the town square.”

“Just like me to crush on the girl with the most bagedge.”

“You do that a lot. Leave.”

“You are a really nice person.”

“Is this the part where you run?”

“I was wondering if I could stay.”

“I don’t have a home anymore.”

“I am dangerous to people. It’s better that i keep my distance.”

“Better then who?”

“I guess evil is relative.”

“People i care about have a tendency to die on me.”

“I am well aware of your quest to avoid all emotional intimacy.”

“I don’t have things.”

“Your the one who always tells me to go out more.”

“I tell you not to lock yourself in your dorm room and stop watching cutthroat kitchen.”

“File that under the list of things that make sense in the after math.”

 “Attempt to make an actual friendship here and we can evaluate this relationship.”

“Giving up dibs on the new guy.”

“They usually do go for her.”

“I heard about what happened to your girlfriend?

“I am nosey in like a charming way.”

“Oh god that was my inside voice.”

“You know.. hot... angry.. damaged.”

“I sort of made a point in my life of staying away for guys like you.”

“Block with your hand. If you had it, I wouldn’t have to say it.”

“You could just stay my headmaster. The rest is not in the job description.”

“Whatever we do we do it together.”

“Could you wait it out with me?”

“We really are sorry about what happened to you.”

“She was the best person I knew. I loved her in a way that only exist in movies.”

“So now what? Am I a hostage?”

“Even immortal demons can find a way to die around here.”

“Everything is going to be okay. I promise.”

“We don’t exactly intend for you to remember it.”

“Are you two out of your mind? how could I forget any of this?”

“That’s what it was like our there for people like him and me.”

“Who did he kill recently?”

“Yea, i’ll just sit here alone in the witch dugeons with my thoughts.”

“We don’t accept cold blooded killers.”

“Talking about her gives her power.”

“He used to sell me milk shakes.”

“We blend in just enough. Participate, Contribute enough.”

“Most people have read harry potter so I don’t have to tee up.”

“Everyone here is special in the way the outside world wouldn’t understand.”

‘Then were do I belong.”

“You have no idea what it is like out there.”

“Let’s talk about it over a drink.”

“We won’t keep you here long.”

“Don’t mean to be a dick, but I don’t know you.”

“We danced once.”

“File that under the list of things that make sense in the after math.”

“Attempt to make an actual friendship here and we can evaluate this relationship.”

“Giving up dibs on the new guy.”

“They usually do go for her.”

“I heard about what happened to your girlfriend?

“I am nosey in like a charming way.”

“Oh god that was my inside voice.”

“You know.. hot... angry.. damaged.”

“I sort of made a point in my life of staying away for guys like you.”

“Block with your hand. If you had it, I wouldn’t have to say it.”

“You could just stay my headmaster. The rest is not in the job description.”

“Whatever we do we do it together.”

“Could you wait it out with me?”

We really are sorry about what happened to you.”

“She was the best person I knew. I loved her in a way that only exist in movies.”

“So now what? Am I a hostage?”

“Even immortal demons can find a way to die around here.”“Everything is going to be okay. I promise.”

“We don’t exactly intend for you to remember it.”

“Are you two out of your mind? how could I forget any of this?”

“That’s what it was like our there for people like him and me.”

“Who did he kill recently?”

“Yea, i’ll just sit here alone in the witch dugeons with my thoughts.”

“We don’t accept cold blooded killers.”

“Talking about her gives her power.”

“He used to sell me milk shakes.”

“We blend in just enough. Participate, Contribute enough.”

“Most people have read harry potter so I don’t have to tee up.”

“Everyone here is special in the way the outside world wouldn’t understand.”

‘Then were do I belong.”

“You have no idea what it is like out there.”

“Let’s talk about it over a drink.”

“We won’t keep you here long.”

“Don’t mean to be a dick, but I don’t know you.”

“We danced once.”

“We tried, and than you moved away.”

“Shut down the excorsist would you.”

“You ask a lot of questions.”

“I am going to try that sleep thing again?”

“Did I bruise you? I am still working out the kinks?”

“Dad, this is lame.”

“I am missing a party.”

[enheduana-inanna]

GO christmas fic recs

So I have them in one place if I want to try to push myself into the holiday spirit

Crowley’s First Christmas, by skimmingthesurface, SlyWritesStuff [40k, rated T] Christmas is just the sort of holiday a demon has no business enjoying, even if one particular demon is entirely responsible for just such a holiday. After Armageddon't, he finally has a chance to see what all the fuss is about and one particular angel is very eager to show him. It's been nearly two thousand years of missing him every December, after all, so there's much to do. There's mulled wine, Christmas markets, a tree to decorate, gifts to give, and secrets to share.

Incredibly soft fic about the mortifying ordeal of being known, compromises and opening oneself to feelings, that beautifully unfolds over a several holiday events and ends with an incredibly sweet gift exchange scene.

for yonder breaks, by sevdrag [12k, rated E] For centuries, if they've been in the same area, Crowley and Aziraphale have celebrated the Christmas holiday together. It isn't the same every year - they've done Hanukkah, they've done Yule - but the tradition of a small private celebration, behind closed doors and with extraordinary amounts of alcohol, is fairly constant. This first Christmas after the canceled Armageddon sees them both trying to uphold this tradition, while reflecting the way everything has changed. This holiday seems the same, but it's very different. 

Lovely fic that alternates between flashbacks to the slow process of them coming together post-armageddon and hilarious snippets of banter about the *real* story of Christmas and Gabriel’s general incompetence, plus an amazing confession of feelings/literal exchange of emotions scene that is so so beautifully done.

[Bonus fic also by sevdrag, which is maybe technically an Annunciation fic instead, but I don’t think those are a thing: How Will This Be, [9k, T] - Gabriel tells Aziraphale that he gets to be the “virgin body” that will birth Jesus, which is an issue given how long he’s been sleeping with Crowley, featuring hilarious attempts by two immortal beings who don’t know why you’d need two unicorns to figure out where babies come from (is it seeds???), and an actually really sweet take on Mary and Joseph as in a lavender marriage kind of set up]

Come Adore on Bended Knee (and Other Ways to Make an Angel Rejoice), by TheOldAquarian [6k, rated M] "Well, we waited six thousand years for a kiss, surely we can wait at least one more night before we, you know." Crowley made an ambiguously descriptive but inarguably obscene gesture between the two of them."Of course we can," said Aziraphale. "We're not animals. We'll just carry on our evening as it was before all those delightful kisses happened. I don't think it should be too hard to find other things to talk about."There was a pause in which the tea kettle whistled, as if in disbelief.

Absolutely hilarious fic that includes the exchange:

The scratchy radio began to play  O Holy Night.

"I'm always surprised they air this on the radio unedited," Crowley said.

"What do you mean?"

"Well there's that line in there that's pretty off-colour."

"No, what on earth are you talking about?" Aziraphale leaned back on the pillow, trying to ready himself for anything.

" You  know," Crowley said. "The one about fellating an angel."

Aziraphale was not ready for that. He could not have looked more shocked if he had been actually electrocuted.

" I beg your pardon? "

"You know, 'fall on your knees, oh hear the angel voices.' Pretty racy stuff."

 Which I now think about every time I hear that song.

muddle through somehow, by curtaincall [27k, rated T]. Aziraphale Fell runs a successful food blog, Celestial Comestibles, where he shares mouthwatering recipes and heartwarming stories about his happy domestic life in a cottage with his husband and son. As promotion for his upcoming cookbook, his publishers run a contest: one lucky winner will get to spend Christmas with Aziraphale and his family. What the publishers don't know is that the real Aziraphale Fell is a single city-dweller. And if he wants to keep up his happily married persona, he'll have to acquire a cottage, husband, and son before Christmas. As it happens, his friend and neighbor Anthony Crowley has his nephew staying with him for the holidays. One fake marriage proposal later, and everything seems tickety-boo--as long as Aziraphale can keep from developing inconveniently real feelings for his pretend husband...

Look, it’s a well-written, funny, Christmas themed fake-relationship AU, and some of us are simple people with simple pleasures.

Earthly Blessings, by vgersix [8k, rated T] Crowley hates the biting cold of winter — dreads it every year. It gets in the bones; a miserable, gnawing thing. Normally he would just go home and sleep through the whole season — unconsciousness the only respite from this annual suffering. But after the Apocanope doesn't quite pop off as it's meant to, Crowley is soaking in all the pleasant experience the world has to offer, and the one redeeming quality about winter is of course Christmas. Hanukkah. Yule. Solstice. Whatever excuse humans are using these days to eat, drink, sing songs, and bring some greenery inside to warm their homes. He has a guilty pleasure he's been indulging in that no one can know about... especially not the angel. But when Crowley's tender little secret is discovered, he might get more holiday cheer than he could have imagined possible.

This does a great job of capturing the feeling of loving the aesthetics and trappings of something that you know isn’t for you and isn’t actually as warm and lovely outside the moment of performance, but still appreciating the event for what it is.

The Grinch Who Sold Christmas, by darcylindbergh [61k, rated T] Anthony J. Crowley, a big-time attorney from London, is sent to small-town Tadfield to close a deal before Christmas that would sell out half of high street to a fancy developer and put him up for partner at his firm. The deal will run the local businesses out and change the landscape of the town forever, but that’s none of Crowley’s business; he’s just doing a job. But as the town invites him to share in their lives, their hopes, and their holiday celebrations, and as the enigmatic Aziraphale invites him to share in something more, Crowley starts to wonder: if everything has its price, is he still willing to pay what this deal will cost?

Hallmark Christmas movies give me hives so it took a while to read this, but the premise of this works so much better [the sort of developer Crowley works for *also* gives me hives, and I actually have to interact with them far more often than bad TV movies], and it’s a fluffy, well-written story with a cute advent conceit.

Clementine, by Mussimm [17k, rated E]   I love you madly Let my imagination run away with you gladly. The seaside neighbours AU exactly one person asked for.

Not technically a Christmas fic, but it sort of becomes one for several chapters in the middle, and it’s so, so good anyway so it counts.

[therealvinelle]

Hi, love your metas and your fic. I think you mentioned somwhere that at the end of BD Aro was trying to prevent the fight. What were his motives? According to Edward, the Volturi are cowards, but I didn't get this feeling. Caius was begging for a battle, the guard vocally proclaimed willingness to die for the cause... hell, Jane had to be restrained from running to Bella and punching her in the throat. And I find it unlikely that their leader is less brave than them. Explain Aro's brain pls

Thank you so much! That’s really nice of you to say. And sorry for the late answer.

And explain Aro’s brain, whew. That is a very big question with a very long answer and this post will be a manifesto by the time I’m done. But you wanted Aro’s brain explained so manifesto it is.

So, before we go anywhere I have to make the distinction between Aro of the books and Aro of the movies. Those two are different people.

Starting with appearance, because casting does a lot for me and if a big deviation is made it better be like Ruth Wilson as Marisa Coulter, which is to say it better fit the character. Also, disclaimer, I think most of Twilight was miscast, and especially the Volturi. I’m forever dying at Caius looking like Lucius Malfoy. However, this is an Aro post, so we’re highlighting Aro.

Aro of the books is a twenty-something Greek with skin that has petrified and eyes covered in a milky sort of film, which totals to him looking perfect, as all vampires do, yet frail. When he walks it looks like he’s gliding. This is an otherworldly, ancient, inhuman being. He’s energetic and excitable, yes, but if anything that should add to how very other he is. Casting Michael Sheen is a clear signal that the movies were going in a completely different direction with Aro. Sheen is a great actor who played what he was given perfectly, but what he was given was a very different character.

In New Moon the book, Aro first rejects Edward request because this is Carlisle’s gifted son, and more, this is not what the Volturi do. They are not hitmen. It’s just a big no all around.

Bella enters, and the Aro she meets is a very polite and gracious man who’s delighted to see the human still alive, and pleased Carlisle’s son won’t be suicidal anymore. However, Edward fully intended to step into the sunlight in the middle of Volterra, specifically to provoke the Volturi, and he has broken the law with Bella. Further, Edward makes it clear that he fully intends to walk out of Volterra with his human still human, and that she’ll die of old age if he gets his way. Edward’s contempt of the law could not be more clear. However, Alice shows Aro that Bella’s fate is sealed, she turns or she dies. The law will be upheld. Aro is glad to hear it, and lets the Cullens all go home.

All in all, it’s a very tense occasion where Edward has put Aro in a difficult position, because he’s trying to force him to kill his best friend’s son, and Aro goes “YES THANK GOD” when Alice finally gives him an out.

New Moon of the movies was not this. Starting with the flashback (because I’m being thorough), Aro executes a lowly criminal himself.  I object to that, I think that’s a menial task and Aro doing it himself made the Volturi look less regal, not more. Cut to the present day, Aro rejects Edward’s request because he doesn’t want to waste his gift. We get the whole meeting with Bella, and Aro… well I don’t know why he does any of the things he does. This guy never mentions his friendship to Carlisle, tries to kill our plucky heroes three times in the space of one minute (one, gives Felix the order to kill Bella, stopped by Edward. Two, moves to decapitate Edward, stopped by Bella. Three, he’s about to eat Bella, stopped by Alice), and when he lets them go it feels terribly convenient.

This was a guy written to be the villain of the series, and it showed.

Cut to Breaking Dawn part I’s ending scene, and while I love the song choice for the scene, and fully agree that Aro considers misspelling Carlisle’s name to be a capital offense, the scene itself… we are presented with a villainous, power-hungry megalomaniac who’s just waiting to strike against the Cullens.

We then get Breaking Dawn part II, and I haven’t seen that movie in years but I remember the fight scene well enough. Aro kills Carlisle with the biggest grin on his face, and gives the go-ahead to his Volturi to kill the surviving Cullens and their witnesses.

Contrast that with canon, where Aro’s first words to Carlisle are «Nothing would make me happier than preserving your life today». Now, he’s making it very clear that this meeting will most likely end with Carlisle’s death, but he’s not happy about it. He’s certainly not going to kill him with a smile on his face and laughter in his heart.

The movies needed a hammy villain, and that’s what Michael Sheen played. It is not who Aro is, at all. And he’s not the only character this happened to, but again, this is an Aro post so I’m not going to start raging like Don Corleone about what they did to my boys.

So, with the movies firmly expelled from the post, let’s look at the Twilight series from Aro’s point of view.

Or, rather, we’ll have to start earlier because Aro’s decisions throughout the series are pretty clearly motivated by Carlisle. And that means considering, “why is Carlisle so important, anyway?”

Consider these things: one, Aro is gifted with the power of knowing every single thought a person has ever had. He knows your soul. Two, Aro is the leader of the supernatural world, he has been for over a thousand years.

How many friends does a person with that power and in that position have?

Three, who does Aro even come into contact with?

Starting with number three, for Aro it’s going to be 1) criminals, 2) Volturi guard hopefuls, 3) Weirdos like Laurent who are wasting Aro’s time.

(“But what about the guard!” Well, while we observe close interpersonal relationships between Aro and Jane, and Aro and Renata, and one can assume Corin to be close to the wives, the distinction between Volturi coven and Volturi guard remains. The guards are servants, in some cases beloved servants, but servants nonetheless. It would be inappropriate and weird for Aro to start slumming it with Demetri and Felix)

So, Aro doesn’t get out much, which brings us to point two. The people he does meet, and who are willing to entertain a friendship with the Volturi leader, are going to be people who want something. And that might work for some rulers, Louis XIV built Versailles specifically to make his subjects do this for him, but he had something to gain politically from that. Aro does not, his power is supreme without a need to tolerate brown nosers. More, with his own and Marcus’ gifts, he’ll know right away that he’s being used for power. He would get nothing out of it.

Finally point one, Aro’s gift. Say that we have a vampire who’s not a weirdo and who thinks Aro’s a cool dude. Well, the question now is, who would ever want a person in their life who knows all there is to know about them? I wouldn't want anybody to know every thought I've ever had, I certainly would never seek out a person to know me that deeply when I could just go find normal people to be friends with instead. Not to mention how incredibly unequal such a friendship would be.

In short, I don’t think Aro has any friends.

Enter Carlisle a very amiable person who cherishes Aro for his personality, and doesn’t mind having his mind read. Aro just found a unicorn. Carlisle on his end likes Aro so much that he lives with him for decades. Even if you want to read their relationship as platonic, that’s still a very strong friendship.

Point being that Carlisle is unbelievably precious to Aro, and so very unique. Aro has lived for over three millennia, and never met anyone like this before. There won’t be another Carlisle.

This in turn makes him willing to stretch as far as he can to preserve that friendship and, as the plot thickens, keep Carlisle alive.

Fast forwards to 2006, and Aro is sitting in Volterra minding his own business when Carlisle’s son walks into town demanding his own execution. He has not committed any crimes. Not only is assisted suicide not something the Volturi even do, but this would ruin Aro’s friendship with Carlisle. Even if Carlisle was miraculously understanding of Aro killing his son (which I can’t imagine he would be), this would never leave the air between them. Carlisle could never be around him again after something like that.

So, Aro turns down Edward’s request. “Stupid Volturi man ruining my dramatic suicide, I’ll show him who’s boss!” Edward replies, and runs shirtless into the sunlight. I’m sure Aro was just dying, you had “The Sound of Silence” playing as he stared into nothingness because how is this happening to him. A whiplash of an hour later, Bella is alive again, Aro is happy, we can be done with this now, right? Right?!

No, Edward says, we cannot be done with this. He’s still refusing to turn Bella.

And so we get that whole New Moon exchange where Aro very tellingly shoves the part where Edward WALKED INTO THE SUNLIGHT IN VOLTERRA under the carpet and out of the conversation (for comparison: Irina is executed for false testimony and Bree for breaking a law she didn’t know existed), and he even allows Bella to leave human when he could easily have bitten her himself to keep the Cullens honest. This guy went out of his way to be lenient and show the Cullens good faith.

And then a few months later Irina walks into Volterra, bearing memories of what is unmistakably a Cullen immortal child.

Aro may care for Carlisle, but this is the guy who killed his baby sister so he’d still have Marcus’ gift. He will bend far, very far, for those he cares about, but he will not break. It’s duty above love, Volturi above Aro’s personal preferences. An immortal child is not an offense that can be tolerated, and so it’ll be Didyme 2: Aro Kills Someone He Loves Boogaloo.

By now I think it should be quite clear why I think Aro was trying to prevent the fight. Battle would have meant Carlisle’s certain death.

(And that’s even assuming the Volturi won the fight. With Bella there, there was a chance the Volturi wouldn’t prevail. But even before Bella started showing off, Aro was very much hoping this wouldn’t be another Didyme situation.)

[brightlotusmoon]

Husband makes a really good point about chronic pain and silent tolerance: "I'm trying not to make a scene. I don't want to attract its attention, then it'll be worse."

It's like what the Last Unicorn told us.

"You must never run from anything immortal. It attracts their attention. [...] Never run. [...] Walk slowly, and pretend to be thinking of something else. Sing a song, say a poem, do your tricks, but walk slowly and she may not follow."