#this was fun to write yo

[wasabi-gumdrop]

neon glory squad 💖

[shartfinz]

Nintendo if you bring super paper Mario back I'll fix Mr. L's hands in this drawing just for you

[deadsetobsessions]

Bruce didn’t come here often. Perhaps that was terrible of him but he couldn’t bear to visit his son’s resting place. It was difficult to equate his high-spirited son, bright as the sun itself and endlessly brilliant despite the more he grew up in, to the cold and lifeless stone engraved with his name and words that did not encompass everything his son was to him.

His hands were full of flowers, Jason’s favorite books, a round rock, and his son’s favorite foods.

Bruce didn’t come here often, because it broke his heart even more when he did, but today was a day that love and grief triumphed over his need to avoid.

He walked down the winding pathway, Alfred a silent sentinel behind him. He hated it, but he understood. Today was the only day Alfred allowed himself to be emotionally closed off. He’d lost a grandson.

Bruce didn’t come here often, but his son’s birthday was a day Bruce would remember how to love and live again, just for Jason.

“I will be over here, Master Bruce.” Alfred stopped at his designated spot, where Bruce had added a bench and a draping tree to shade Alfred as he stood vigil.

The first time they’d- it was April, and the sun- after the funeral, Bruce was lost in the throes of grief and had kneeled over the freshly tilled dirt for hours. Alfred had stood there, in that same spot, in the city’s rare blazing sun until Bruce came back to himself.

Bruce had almost lost his second father that day, and what good was wealth if it could not prevent that? And so, water, shade, a bench, and a space heater was added.

Bruce knows better than anyone how stubborn Alfred can be, when it comes to matters of the heart. After all, he didn’t have to raise Bruce after Martha and Thomas died.

“Alright, Alfred.”

Bruce splits from the haggard butler with pointed looks at the water bottles he’d prepared for today for Alfred (who manages, this time, a faint but amused raise of an eyebrow) and walks towards Jason Todd’s grave.

Here where his son is buried, the grass is kept green. In April, Forget-Me-Nots bloomed and dotted the place where Bruce’s world collapsed with bright colors. In August, it is still green, but the tin engraved with the names of the deceased stood out without the flowers.

Bruce kneeled and quietly arranged the flowers before placing them in the tin. He set the platters of food down and uncovered them. The scent of chili dogs made his heart stutter, flashes of a bright smile and book references blinding Bruce with their nostalgia.

He swallowed, grief building, and placed the stone he’d brought atop the gravestone. He sat back, gripping Jason’s book with white knuckles.

Bruce didn’t turn around when clothing rustled behind him. Alfred would have verbally cut down anyone that dared to approach them today, especially here. That he didn’t do so was telling of who it would be.

“I’m still mad at you, for not telling me as soon as you knew.” Dick Grayson sat down, hand over one of Jason’s school bag pins he had carefully attached to the front of his jacket.

“I know. I’m sorry.”

“He deserved better. I should have been there.” Dick whispered, placing another bundle of flowers into the tin. It fit, but barely. “I would have dropped everything to come find him. Even if it wasn’t on time, even if it wasn’t enough, I deserved to be there when he was buried. We were family.”

“I know.” Bruce repeated, no less regretful. In his grief, he had wronged his loved ones. “I’m sorry.”

Dick casted a quiet, assessing eye at him. Bruce stayed quiet.

“It’s too dreary,” Dick said. He took out paints, little statutes of robins, bright birds, and bits and bobs Bruce knew Jason would have loved had he been alive out of his pockets.

“It should be more colorful,” Dick murmured as he placed them artfully against the headstone.

They sat there, for a while. Dick glanced at… at Bruce’s hand, and settled down.

It’d been a while since they’ve spoken, but he knew what the man intentioned to do today. This will be the most Dick will have heard Bruce speak outside of his civilian obligations.

Bruce took the cue and gently opened Jason’s book. He’d bought it for Jason- the first gift- and he’d read it to Jason every night. Dick had a similar book.

“Call me Ishmael. Some years ago- never mind how long precisely- having little or no money in my purse…”

——

A boy with black hair and blue eyes wandered amongst the graveyard. They’ve been here for a while, and the man’s low rumble was soothing to listen to. The shades that hung about the graveyard settled as he read out loud from the book as his son sat quietly beside him.

As the boy, invisible and intangible, brushed his hand against the gravestone, he wondered why they were reading to an empty grave.

——

Dick had left long before Bruce did.

And when it was time to go, as stars began to climb and as the cold began to nip at his fingers, Bruce heard a quiet voice.

“Do not stand at his grave and weep,” and Bruce turned, recognizing the poem. “He is not there. He does not sleep.”

But there was no-one.

[akiacia]

some of the right words

[wispscribbles]

❄️ Remember to bring blankets for your recon mission ❄️

[nekrosmos]

As promised, there it is ! 17k words lighthearted NikPrice fic <3 These two have been circling around each other for twenty years and are finally doing something about it.

Summary: Things have been different between John Price and Nikolai as of late. The two men have always been close, but something changed. Now, Price is forced to go on medical leave after a disaster of a mission. Nikolai offers a fishing trip, something he knows his favorite captain enjoys, a nice way to relax, and maybe let their relationship evolve.

[amethystina]

So my brain is at it again...

And this time it wanted to inform me that it would be very interesting with an amnesia fic where Ga On loses his memories but can still detect emotions related to those memories. Just imagine the possibilities.

Quick disclaimer: I'm sure there are several amnesia fics in the fandom already — maybe even one exactly like this — but I haven't read them so I'm just going to tell you all about it anyway because, to me, it's a new idea xD

Anyhow.

Imagine him waking up at the hospital, sometime during the later half of the drama (maybe he got shot instead of Soo Hyun and complications led to him getting memory loss — idk, let's handwave it for the sake of the scenario), and he's met by Soo Hyun and Professor Min. And while Ga On can't say what their names are, he can tell that he knows them. He can't access the memories but he feels the affection and the trust and accepts that they must have been a part of his life previously. And, understandably, they become the rocks he clings to because everything is new and confusing. He can still remember how to do basic things — he could probably even drive if they put him inside a car — but not who he is.

And Soo Hyun and Professor Min are going to have a rough time explaining some of it, no doubt.

Like, imagine the pain when Ga On asks where his parents are and even before Soo Hyun or Professor Min say anything, Ga On feels a rush of grief and anger. Because he doesn't remember them dying, but his body remembers the anguish of that tragedy all the same.

Some things are more humourous, though. Like: "... why is my face plastered all over the city? Am I famous?" Ga On would be so confused because the emotions he feels as he sees billboards with his own face aren't necessarily good ones. He mostly feels embarrassed and self-conscious. But he is kind of proud when he hears that he's a judge. It must mean he's smart.

Anyhow. The real fun part begins when Soo Hyun brings Ga On back to his apartment and Ga On is like: "Yeah, this is familiar." But he can also tell that, no, it's not right. It's not home. It feels cold and stale, as if he's not really living there anymore. And he doesn't understand why. Because, according to Soo Hyun, he's been doing so since he was a kid. But Ga On just shrugs his confusion off because, all things considered, he trusts Soo Hyun more than his own memory.

Also, imagine when he asks Soo Hyun if he has a girlfriend and she looks stunned, then awkward, then shy, and starts giving some mumbled response that no, he doesn't — at least not that she knows of. And Ga On has an "oh" moment because her behaviour makes it very clear that she'd want to be that girlfriend. But then he'd get confused because what he feels when he looks at her is a lot of warmth and love, sure, but not that kind of love.

Because this Ga On doesn't have years of memories to confuse him and muddle their relationship — he just feels the emotions. And, from his currently pretty objective point of view, it doesn't seem like romantic love.

He may love Yoon Soo Hyun very much, but he's not in love with her.

He doesn't tell her that, of course, because that would be rude, but he definitely makes a mental note to be careful with how he acts around her because he doesn't want to accidentally lead her on.

And it continues like that, with Ga On trying to navigate the world with nothing but emotions to go on. Which, obviously, will sometimes become very overwhelming for him, but he's stubborn so he'd still try and, of course, do his best to recover his memories. And some start to trickle in eventually, but it mostly old ones that are very deeply ingrained in his psyche.

Eventually, Professor Min decides to bring Ga On to the Supreme Court. Not to make him go back to work or anything — that would probably be disastrous considering the state Ga On is in — but to see if any of it can jog Ga On's memory. And sure, Ga On can tell that he's been in his office before and he can tell that he's met Jin Joo before — he feels both intimidated and bewildered by her — but nothing really stands out. All of it is just like ghostly silhouettes of a former life he knows he must have had but can't see clearly.

And then he meets Yo Han.

Just sees him from afar at first — Yo Han isn't even looking in Ga On's direction — but the familiarity still hits Ga On like a freight train. That is someone he knows as instinctively as he knew Soo Hyun and Professor Min. And before Ga On can really think things through, he just walks up to Yo Han because, clearly, this man is important. Ga On can tell that this man is important because his heart starts racing, his breaths go shallow, and he's suddenly overwhelmed by such a myriad of confusing and conflicting emotions he can't even sort them out. Some are negative — even outright alarming — but there's also joy and fondness and longing.

Which just makes him even more confused when Professor Min catches up and explains that this is Ga On's boss. And said boss looks at Ga On with what he first thinks is bland indifference. But the longer he stands there — and listens to Professor Min tersely explaining what they're doing there to Yo Han with half an ear — Ga On realises that, no, that's not indifference. There's something underneath it — a spark of something else he can't name but can definitely tell means something. And he desperately wants to know what that something is. He wants to scratch at it until he can peel away the layer of indifference hiding it from sight.

He needs to know.

But then, not long after that thought has crossed his mind, Ga On is reminded of the fact that this is, apparently, his boss. His male boss. And Ga On really shouldn't be feeling any of the things he's feeling. But, at the same time, he can't just ignore it. Because this is what a connection should feel like.

He might not have a girlfriend but, clearly, he has someone he's in love with.

And that's a little daunting, not to mention disorienting. Because Yo Han doesn't look approachable at all, and there is also a lot of frustration and anger mixed in with the much happier emotions when Ga On looks at Yo Han. There's just so much. And Ga On is confused because he can't really see himself falling in love with the man in front of him. Yo Han doesn't look like a very kind man.

And then, suddenly, Ga On realises that he has no idea if Yo Han knows that Ga On is in love with him. Maybe they're even a couple? It sure seems like they could be considering the attachment Ga On feels. He gets impulses to be physical in a way he hasn't with anyone else he's met thus far. He felt comfort hugging Soo Hyun, sure, but this is something else entirely. This is a need burning inside of him, urging him to draw closer to Yo Han.

He kind of wants to kiss Yo Han, right there in the corridors of the Supreme Court.

But Ga On can't be sure because Yo Han isn't exactly easy to read and aside from that spark of something when he looks at Ga On, Yo Han is impenetrable. And, if they were a couple, wouldn't Yo Han have insisted on finding Ga On earlier? Even if they have some sort of secret relationship that Soo Hyun clearly isn't aware of? Shouldn't Yo Han look more worried?

So maybe they're not together? And Ga On is just hopelessly in love with his boss? A boss who, judging by the way he looks at Ga On, might not even like Ga On.

Whichever it might be, Ga On realises he has to find out. His old memories are already trickling in, slowly but surely, but they're all of Soo Hyun and Ga On's parents and stuff that happened ages ago. And Ga On wants to know more about his life now. He wants to know more about Yo Han.

And he desperately needs to know if his feelings are reciprocated.

Even if it will definitely break his heart if he finds out that they're not.

...

SO YEAH.

It would be quite fun, wouldn't it? If I can find a way to make the story relatively short, I might just write it. Because I'm really intrigued by the concept of Ga On still having the emotions attached to the memories, but not the memories themselves. So he'll remember being both frustrated by and attracted to Yo Han. But without all the memories and years of influence from Professor Min and Soo Hyun fresh in mind, he wouldn't understand the negative emotions as much, nor put as much weight on them.

And it would be interesting to see how that would change their dynamic.

Because some of Ga On's behaviour would still be the same — he'd still be stubborn, righteous, a bit awkward etc. — but he'd also be freer. And a lot freer to act.

So that would be interesting, I think?

And now my brain will hopefully let go of this story and let me focus on other things for a while

[cursedzucchini]

Prompt/idea #6

Y'all what if when Danny's not feeling that good (is very injured/didn't eat anything/sleep deprived) he instead of fainting just... Turns into his 14 yo self.

That wasn't such a problem at the begginjng bc he was short king and well, he didn't change that much.

But now? When he's in college (basically always on the verge of fainting from exhaustion/hunger/dehydration/whatever unholy thing he consumed to stay awake and functioning) in Gotham? When he's 24, and yeah, maybe he didn't grow that much in height, but he lost the baby fat. His face didn't look so hopeful, and innocent and he gained quite few scars.

So yeah, changing into his 14yo self wasn't the greatest by itself. But add the trauma Danny has when looking at himself in the mirror, and overall being in the wrong body (thinking about what younger him didn't know, like u can add angst Abt canon stuff, like Vlad was a fucking creep, pariah dark, or add vivisection and Dani dying or whatever).

So Danny was being extra careful about taking care of himself (he thought, like a liar). And maybe that day he forgot breakfast, lost his pocket money, his card declined, he couldn't sleep because of reccuring nightmares and the only edible (that's questionable tho) thing in his bag was some somehow wrong ectoplasm he stole from some guy few weeks ago (and Danny needed to ask the him where tf did he manage to find such a disgusting ecto. Like not even his parents manage to fuck it up that badly).

So when on his way home, some fucking asshole jumped him, of course he was going to freak the fuck out.

...if knocking the guy out counts as freaking out. And showing some of his more ghostly features out (read show the asshole the indescribable horrors of balancing life and death for eternity and no time at all).

And that somehow tipped Danny over the top. So now he's sitting there, in his now way too big clothes next to the knocked out (hopefully) clown, drawing dumb pictures on his face, waiting for Jazz to pick him up and maybe help him dispose of the body.

(bonus points if the batfam saw this go down and are now so fucking confused how tf did some twink™ knocked out the fucking joker in one punch, and than transformed into a fuckibg child????? B, no, put the adoption papers down-!)

(bonus bonus points if 14 yo Danny looks exactly like 14yo Jason, and they (especially Jason) just see young Jason sitting next to dead? Joker w a crowbar, drawing dicks on his face)

(also the reason why Danny doesn't know who joker is, is bc every time someone started talking Abt joker or the clown he assumed he was something like batman, and wasn't interested in learning anything Abt anything clown themed)

[alkalinefrog]

On top of the prologue comic, I drew some mock-movie posters for the first two chapters! They were sort of like a two-part “pilot episode” of the fic hehehehe

The fic's over here on Ao3!

SEE YOU NEXT TIME!!

[mllenugget]

Hello I mcyt fandom-ified la Team du Lundi members and wrote a shit ton of text about it

After exhausting myself on trying to catch up on the current QSMP lore I got a sudden craving for a more familiar and fast paced kind of minecraft content and ended up rewatching all the Team du Lundi's SMP best of's I could find

And while doing so with my brain still hazed in fandom brainrot, I started picking up on minor details or info the players casually dropped, and drew parallels to the French speakers' QSMP counterparts This is going to be a long wordy post I don't even know what I am rambling about and for. Three things you need to be aware of about la Team du Lundi before reading :

Baghera, Antoine and Etoiles are the only QSMP players that are part of la Team du Lundi

As far as I remember the only two elements that suggest that la Team du Lundi's SMP could be canon to QSMP are Antoine being pressured into building another Tower of Shit, and Baghera's infamous fountain being mentioned when she was asked if her character remembers anything from her past before the island

La Team du Lundi's SMP was NOT a roleplaying server, it was just a private survival server for a small circle of friends casually playing together. So whenever I quote someone in this specific post, it is the streamer : there is no character other than the persona the streamer is usually showing on stream, but I just thought it would be fun to interpret certain situations while keeping in mind the QSMP lore. And here goes :

Baghera claims that when she was a kid she strongly believed that she could breathe underwater. The others joke about her having fins

Antoine jokingly tells Baghera he doesn’t need oxygen at all

Antoine claims he will still be alive thousands of years forwards

Antoine’s voice shifts when he wants to appear creepy

Baghera built an aquarium at her place, then helped Antoine build one at his tower, then built a giant swimming pool, then a fountain, then a waterslide- do you see a theme ?

Baghera knows that her skin is actually that of a chick and not a duckling, and calls it so here

Chat said that Baghera has a middle child syndrome, justifying that she bullies Angle Droit because Etoiles bullies her in the first place (Etoiles has also called her « little sister » in a derogatory way)

Etoiles has repeatedly asked people to play Valorant with him at least once

Here's a clip of Etoiles getting languaged in french and owing "a gifted sub in the swear jar"

Unrelated random clip of Etoiles because it creates happy hormones in me brain

Etoiles is regularly refered to as "the warrior"

Etoiles guided the whole group during an expedition to the End and he was literally glowing doing so (enchanted arrows effect) Everyone called him "the guide"

Baghera was the one who gave the final blow to the Enderdragon (and died from magic right after)

Etoiles spent most of his time adventuring in order to bring stuff and gear back to everyone for their builds

Etoiles asked Aypierre for help in order to design a redstone door for his cave which could only open upon solving a puzzle (which was egg & arrow related) (Aypierre was not a member of the server)

Etoiles built a nightclub with the walls and ceiling covered in wardenblocks making it look like a starry sky. He also rehomed Allays holding golden apples inside claiming them to be the souls working for him and that they lived there peacefuly

Etoiles jokingly talks about Antoine acting jealous and violent towards him because Etoiles told him he wanted to go and visit Kameto (who also was not a member of the server)

Baghera (along with Horty) had a rivalry with Joueur du Grenier (host of the server with admin powers) after he decided to build a massive parking lot right next to their house. They countered by covering the whole thing with dirt, followed by JDG building a factory and the two parties went back and forth. Baghera argued that it was stupid because they didnt even have cars to begin with (which is a sentence she reused when talking about Forever's roads) Also she tells JDG that he could've built a seaport instead, which makes JDG contemplate the thought of building an airport (and though he ended up never building it, I am side eyeing the French's plane crash)

At some point JDG wonders about what a roleplaying minecraft server would look like (RPZ 2), to which Baghera replies that she has a hard time picturing the thing "We'd all just build things you see ? I don't think we'd create stories, we would all just be like "I'm a builder, ah you too ? Well awesome, builders, cool"" and I find this to be hilariously ironic (fun fact : Baghera had no idea that QSMP was a roleplaying server when she first joined and often claims she would've taken a different approach with her character had she known right off the gate)

As I was finishing to write this down, these fuckers (/lh) decided to host a closure night for the server as they've never really officially did it, everyone just sort of deserted the server after a while. Baghera, Etoiles and Antoine kept referring to QSMP throughout the night, mostly talking about how weird it felt without mods. Among other meta commentary things

They mentionned Cellbit and Bad multiple times as the group was trying to solve enigmas. Antoine talked about "the cultural sharing" between communities as he taught insults to each others with Mike, Roier and Maximus in their respective languages Multiple more players were namedropped (including eggs) while Antoine was talking about how the server functions

Yes, Baghera and Etoiles kept their QSMP skins. Etoiles with his code corrupted purgatory one, and Baghera with her fading pink disheveled hair (with the addition of her cubito wearing Horty's merch)

Baghera admits that going back to this small familiar vanilla server feels like coming back home to your family during the holidays

Team du Lundi's cameos in QSMP :

Though Pomme has never canonically met JDG (even though most of her parents have talked about him to her at least once), she occasionaly breaks the 4th wall to refer to him. She once compared one of BBH's "vacation" flower shirts with his, and when Foolish and Bad asked her to elaborate (obviously not getting the reference) she proceeded to play JDG's music theme with the flute instead (Also I really feel the need to once more point out how mindblowing it is for your average french speaking viewer to have JDG's intro theme being added to the mod they use in the QSMP because of how anchored it is within french internet pop culture. Like this shit has been existing for 14 fucking years, it's part of the childhood of a lot of us, so to find a clip of British hardcore player Philza peacefuly listening to Mexican egg admin Tallulah play this theme on her flute feels like a multiverse fever dream)

Horty has been on Quesadilla Island through cc!Baghera's account, but neither of them really wanted to justify it RP wise. Baghera just wanted to give her best friend a tour of the island. Horty only got to meet Richarlyson who gave her a tour of Cellbit's castle and made her pick a room (she chose Chaos). She also chatted with Etoiles who tagged along for a bit and (this is obviously justified by it being a one-shot out of roleplay filler episode kind of night) they both already knew each other and were on friendly enough terms to bicker with one another Also she was part of the French speakers Quackity reached out to to invite on the server, but she had to decline because she was very busy at that time (and also not interested) Also also she was Baghera's teammate for that Formula 4 event, and Baghera has discussed it and showed pictures to a couple of islanders, including Richas who was very hyped about it

Another player the viewers were hoping to see on Quackity's server is Mynthos. He exists within the server with the picture of him that hangs in Pomme's art gallery, the cursed animation video that used to play in La France, as well as with Aypierre's health potion factory that bears his name

Angle Droit and Zerator are sometimes namedropped when the French speakers talk with their chat. Angle Droit frequently raids Baghera's and Antoine's streams, and though it has never been confirmed, a lot of viewers theorized that she was the +1 player Baghera and Etoiles wanted to invite on the server had they won the elections.

As for Zera, Etoiles went AFK on QSMP a couple of times in order to test some of Zerator's TrackMania maps (which he later discussed with Pac). I also remember a very trivial conversation Etoiles had with Mouse and Aypierre where he laughed about hurting his back very badly after carrying a fellow streamer during a caritative event, said event was hosted by Zerator (he's also the one judging them with concern from his desk)

I'm done.

Bonus alternative design for Angle Droit because at first I thought she was a fox then it turned out she was a corgi but then she changed it again to a fox and woop

[natasha-in-space]

Take Your Breath Away

Pairing: Saeyoung/afab!reader;

Notes: !Minors do not interact! This one contains smut! Set in RAE timeline, with you getting together with Saeyoung after RAE takes place. Lots and LOTS of pet names. This was a gift fic to a friend, so keep that in mind while reading, as the dynamic between you and Saeyoung was written in a very deliberate way <3

Summary: No birthday is exactly the same, no matter how many years go by in your shared life with Saeyoung. Catching a private moment with your husband can be a bit difficult when there's a whole group of dear friends eager to celebrate yet another year of his life. Which is why a little private celebration was in order.

AO3 link - 8k words (what);

Credit: Dividers by @/saradika-graphics

Despite your hushed footsteps against the smooth, wooden floors of your apartment, you knew Saeyoung probably heard you already. Not that you minded. While sneaking up on him was fun, you had nothing to hide from him anymore. The surprise was ready and waiting. And this was just the ideal opportunity to finally bring your plans to reality.

His birthday was finally today, the day you had been anticipating for weeks now. Though, to prevent him from being overwhelmed with too much attention, you kept your excitement mostly to yourself up until now. From what you could observe of him over the years, Saeyoung was still only getting used to actually celebrating his birthday properly, so you naturally assumed that doing something big and loud wouldn't be something he'd be very happy with. And your wish was for him to spend his birthday with a smile on his face. This year around, his birthday just happened to be on your day off work as well, so you two could spend the entire day together for the first time in a long time.

Given that the rest of the day was set aside for Saeran and the RFA, you made the natural decision to arrange a private surprise that was only for you and him alone. Plus, Saeran seemed to approve of this idea, even creating a small gift for his brother that he entrusted to you to give him. Whether it was due to bashfulness or something else entirely.

It wasn't unusual for you both to be fully awake at midnight. Night was a special time for you, and not just because of the stars now sprinkled across the inky black void of the sky above, twinkling dimly against the bright lights of the city bellow. It was a time when the world slowed down, grew quiet, peaceful. A perfect time for meaningful conversations and sweet moments hidden away under the comforting solitude the night would bring with it. Many of the precious memories you now cherished dearly were made during the night. You supposed that was only natural, considering you both just happened to be night owls through and through, as opposed to Saeran and his beloved, who were more like a pair of early birds.

It was just you and Saeyoung in a cozy space you now called your home, no one to disturb you, and no one to steal the attention back onto themselves. The apartment was a perfect mix of peace and quiet, a welcome reprieve from all the hustle and bustle of the day prior in preparation for the twins' birthday party tomorrow. The living room of your apartment was already decorated for the celebration ahead, with balloons scattered about and a small collection of gifts from you, Saeran, Saeyoung, and Saeran's  partner already waiting on the shelves to be opened.

So, you take your chance while you still can.

"...Happy birthday, love," you whispered at last as you leaned over the back of the couch with cake in your hands, a small smile playing on your lips in anticipation of the upcoming reaction from your husband.

Upon seeing him looking up at you, you gave him a small giggle, knowing that his evident expression of surprise was mostly due to the small cake you had in your hands. Saeran made it himself only a day ago, but you did provide some assistance of your own. You both made sure that Saeyoung was kept in the dark about it up until today, though. When Saeran sought your advice on what gift to give to his big brother, you both decided that a present made by hand would be the best starting point, though it wasn't anything extravagant or expensive.

But Saeyoung had more than enough money for all three of you, after all.

As you placed the small cake on the coffee table, Saeyoung blinked up at you and swiftly glanced back at the clock hanging by the front door, squinting rather adorably. Without a doubt, it was just past midnight. June 11th. Today was the day of his birthday. And the day he was now officially 29 years of age.

Almost hitting his 30's.

"...Oh," Saeyoung blurted out, sounding slightly embarrassed, and immediately you sensed a slight feeling of guilt rising within him as he looks down at his lap for a split second, almost as if he wasn't sure what to say or how to react to your quiet congratulation. Feeling melancholic on this day, particularly at night, wasn't something new to him. Regardless, he quickly shook it off, smiled up at you, and swiftly wrapped his arms around your waist, pulling you down onto his lap with practiced ease. "You didn't have to-"

"Oh hush," following his lead, you settled on his lap, giving him a small, affectionate smile. "It's your birthday. I want to treat you. Even if it's something small and intimate. I figured tomorrow will be mostly about Saeran and RFA, knowing you. So I wanted to make a little something just about you."

Saeyoung was only able to produce a small 'urgh' sound and shake his head in amusement, but you just laughed and winked at him cheekily. The way you were able to read him like an open book could be borderline unnerving to him at times. But hey, occasionally, he needed to be called out. And you were always eager to do just that, keeping him in check when needed.

"Touché... You know me way too well sometimes. It's unfair," he whined with a playful pout, wrapping his arms more securely around you and leaning back against the couch with a long sigh. Giving your cheek a small kiss, he looked back down at the small cake again, now resting nearby on the coffee table. "You made the cake yourself?"

"Nope! Saeran did. I know you're not as big on sweets as he is, but giving you another box of Dr Pepper seemed kind of ridiculous. Sometimes some good old sugar is not so bad, I think. Saeran worked hard on this for you," you chirped, perking up a bit after hearing about the cake. As you glanced between the dessert and Saeyoung, you smiled and tried your best to observe his reaction.

"Saeran...?"

Saeyoung's eyes widened as he stared down at the cake, a whole cocktail of various emotions filling his gaze behind his thick glasses. That's a reaction you well enough expected of him, just letting him take his time before responding. Even after all these years, he was still adjusting to not being the one who took care of Saeran in their relationship. Saeyoung would often find himself feeling choked up and overwhelmed with even the slightest hint of affection from his younger twin. Even so, he was improving year by year. And you could not be prouder of him.

Considering the time and ingredients that Saeran invested in this little project of his, you were very proud of what he achieved after hours of tireless crafting. Compared to your brother-in-law, baking was not your strong suit. But buying a cake was just not the right choice for you either. So, you delegated that task to Saeran, while you observed him from the side and acted as his inexperienced baking assistant.

The cake was not particularly large or grandiose. Just a simple homemade cake that was medium-sized and decorated with cherries and delicate flowers made of frosting. Though you were certain that there was more hidden meaning involved here than you were aware of. Saeyoung was the one who needed to figure that out, however. The cake was also decorated with a few candles and a traditional 'Happy Birthday' written on top with syrup. Simple, but endearing nonetheless. There was also a small, neat envelope tucked next to it. Something Saeran added there as a sort of bonus. Out of respect, you haven't peeked inside yet.

"...Wow. Yeah. That is definitely a lot more incredible than giving me more Dr Pepper. He really went all out with this... And for me nonetheless," Saeyoung said eventually, chuckling under his breath and gazing down at the cake with softened eyes. He carefully picked up a small cherry from the top and popped it in his mouth, chewing on it with far more care than was necessary. He ended by licking the syrup off his lips after swallowing it. You tried not to stare excessively. You tried even harder to resist kissing him right then and there, but you were interrupted again by his warm voice: "Mm, it's really good! You said Saeran made it himself... how many times did he have to mess it up until this one?"

"Oh, he got it right on first try. Compared to us, he's practically a pastry chef," you groaned a bit, leaning back on his lap comfortably. "If I was to try and bake you a cake myself, it'd take me at least a dozen of ruined cakes before I'd get to something at least decent enough to eat."

Saeyoung snickered as he shook his head when he saw your pouty face. It was obvious that he'll be bothering you about that comment later. That was not important right now, though. He looked at the small envelope next to the cake, raising a curious eyebrow instead.

"And what's that?" he asked.

"Oh, a small letter he wrote for you!" you grinned after following his gaze, looking back down at his face with a small, knowing twinkle in your eye. "-Yeah, yeah, I know it's a bit silly and cliché, considering you'll see him tomorrow morning. But I think it's sweet. Plus, it's something for you to keep and return to! The cake will be eaten, after all."

Saeyoung's expression was once again one of surprise before he reached out to take the envelope and study it.

"...Wow. You guys are... really spoiling me this year 'round. I didn't even hit 30 yet," he chuckled softly, looking back up at you. "Will I finally get a kitten next year, then?"

You only laughed at that, giving his shoulder a playful push, to which he shot you a cheeky grin of his own: "Don't get cocky."

This was the usual banter between you two, one that was familiar and comfortable.

Without further ado, Saeyoung carefully opened the top of the envelope and extracted the letter that was folded inside. He opened it and held it in front of him while quietly reading it fully, his expression changing occasionally as his eyes moved through the written words. You got closer, Saeyoung turning the letter to ensure both of you could read it.

Saeran did state to you that it was not particularly noteworthy. Just a written expression of his feelings, since he found it easier to express himself like this, instead of using direct words. You understood that perfectly.

The letter read: 'Dear Hyung. Whether you are reading this on the very day you were given this letter, or sometime later, I can stay assured that what I wrote in here remains true. I want to wish you a happy birthday. I never thought I would get a chance to say that to you like this, much less for so many years in a row. And not with us both now being adults. You were always my pillar of strength and my other half, as far back as I can remember. I used to be so full of anger at that... So full of anger, and of hurt, but I'm wiser now. In part, thanks to you. I know now that you were always there for me. You were always thinking of me, just as I was thinking of you. We were always connected. I'm grateful for everything you've done for me, Hyung. And I'm grateful to be your twin. I wish to be your pillar of strength now. I want you to know that you can rely on me with whatever that may trouble you. There's no need for you to hide your true self from me anymore. Ah... It's tradition to make wishes on birthdays, right? I suppose I should wish you something... And I think I want to wish you peace, Hyung. You've fought long and hard for my sake. I want you to rest now, with me, and Y/N, and RFA. I wish for you to find your promise of happiness, as I did mine. Maybe we'll even share it, like we shared everything. Let's eat some ice cream tomorrow. I can't wait to watch the clouds with you - Saeran :) ❁ '

Saeyoung slowly placed the letter on his lap all while still observing the handwriting, his fingertips tracing over the scribbled words, feeling the settled ink under his skin. His expression softened significantly, his usual relaxed face now filled with a strange mixture of fondness and... something else you couldn't quite put your finger on. Something fragile.

"God... You two are going to make me cry on my own birthday..." he muttered quietly, raising his hand to rub a bit at his eye, on which you did not comment to avoid embarrassing him. With clear tenderness in his movements, he folded up the letter and placed it aside before wrapping his arms around your waist and burying his face in your shoulder with a deep, shaky sigh. "He sure has a way with words, doesn't he?"

His voice was muffled by your shoulder, but you heard him loud and clear nonetheless, his words laced with familial affection you loved so much. Your stomach was fluttering at the precious moment between you. Seeing these brothers reconnect and rebuild their relationship step by step always made you feel incredibly happy for them both.

They deserved to live in peace.

You laughed softly, wrapping your own arms around his torso and giving him a small hug in return. Your heart was warmed by the knowledge that Saeran's words have truly touched him. You knew how important this was to Saeyoung, after all.

"Yeah, he sure does. But all he wrote in there is true, you know?" you hummed while tilting your head to the side to nuzzle into his hair, feeling the soft curls tickling your cheeks. "He want you to be happy. As do I."

Saeyoung sighed hesitantly, raising his head and pulling back slightly to gaze up at you again. His expression appeared vulnerable, almost teary-eyed. Although you weren't surprised by that, it still made your heart lurch a bit. Reaching out, you cupped his cheek tenderly, to which he closed his eyes and leaned into your touch, making you smile.

"I am happy," he responded, his voice soft. "You make me happy. You and Saeran. You are my two angels I will treasure forever."

You giggled at that sentiment as you leaned in to gently rest your forehead against his, allowing him to bask in this moment of genuine affection he was still trying to adjust to sometimes.

"You're the angel in my eyes, love. Maybe all four of us are angels. Wouldn't that be sweet? A featherly family of four. Although, that would be pretty dusty."

Saeyoung laughed at that, letting out a couple of small sniffles here and there, and you let him, not saying a word. After a few minutes of comfortable silence have passed between you, you pull back and settle on his lap as he looks up at you. You gave him a more cheerful smile.

"-We just wanted to give you something that would show you how much we care. This is your day, as much as Saeran's," a sheepish grin tugged at the corners of your lips as you shrugged. "...And I won't lie that I didn't want to sneak in a small private moment, just for the two of us. I want you to be happy, too, you know?"

Saeyoung was quiet for a second, a somewhat pensive look now falling over his face... before he shook his head and leaned back against the couch with a small huff.

"Well... there is something I'm not very happy about."

You blinked and tilted your head to the side curiously.

"What's that?"

With a soft exhale and a growing smirk, he suddenly tightened his strong arms around your waist and pulled you in towards him: "...You're wearing too many clothes."

After a brief pause, you blinked once more and raised your brows incredulously. Well, that was random. Still, this wouldn't be the first time Saeyoung caught you off-guard. Far from it, actually. As you looked down at him with a knowing smile, you chuckled softly.

"...Aren't you going to try out the cake first? Saeran worked hard on it, you know."

You let out a small pouty sigh, quickly falling into step with a familiar game you two would play with each other whenever things got a bit heated.

Saeyoung raised his eyebrow at you and rolled his eyes with a playful whiff.

"Oh, I'll save it. I want to show it off to everyone tomorrow! Plus, it wouldn't feel right just eating it by myself like this. I want to do that with you and Saeran," he whispered, running his hand up and down your back while observing the cake with one last thoughtful look. And just like that, his attention was now fully on you, his golden eyes twinkling alluringly in the dim light of the nearby lamp. "...Not to mention, I'm not sure if I'll be thinking about the cake right now when I have something way better to bite into right in front of me…"

Despite his words and actions making your body shiver slightly, you giggled again. While still sitting on his lap, you rested your palms on his chest and gazed down at him, quite enjoying this view of him from above.

You could get used to this.

"Well, I suppose that's one way to start your birthday off," you mused playfully in an overdramatic show of reluctance, your voice dropping an octave or two, growing more hushed and sensual in nature, the tension between you two rising steadily. Like a small spark of fire steadily growing in size and shining brighter with every second.

With a radiant grin now plastered on his face, Saeyoung slid his hands down to grab your thighs and pull your body taut against his, eliciting a tiny gasp of surprise from you: "Get over here then, starshine."

You just smiled at that, enjoying the teasing sensation of his hands now trailing up and down your thighs. Then, unexpectedly, his palms slid around to grasp your at backside, making you jolt and squeak far louder than you would have liked to. A response that was clearly in his favor, judging by the burst of laughter that rumbled in his chest as you shot him an embarrassed glare. Before you could open your mouth to grumble, he interrupted you.

"-And, frankly, this is the best way to start off my birthday," you could feel the slight vibrations of his voice reverberating in his chest in your palms, the noticeably deeper tone of it quickly making your head start to get all fuzzy. "And also my favorite way."

God, you loved it when he talked like that.

With a gentle tug, Saeyoung grasped the back of your thighs with his hands, pulling you in closer and shifting your position until you were sitting more directly on top of his legs. He then gently rocked you forward, grounding you against the growing erection straining in his jeans, your fingers grasping at his shirt in response. The way your voices merged together into one intimate melody in the form of a shared gasp that left your lips' was truly dizzying, in the best way possible. He gently moved his hands up your sides and then slipped them under the edge of your shirt to feel the warmth of your bare skin under his fingertips, your back arching into his touch.

The way your body felt in his hands was something you absolutely adored, as if it was made to fit into his arms. His expert care left your body buzzing with the rising heat of desire that blossomed between your thighs as you shivered in his grasp. It was nothing new, Saeyoung was always a highly perceptive person. It was only natural that this trait of his translated into the bedroom as well. What he lacked in skill and experience, he would compensate with attentiveness to your body's responses and eagerness to learn. Over the years, he has truly mastered the art of making you come undone in so many wonderful ways. As you did with him.

As his lips glided across your neck, you closed your eyes and tilted your head to the side to give him more space to work with, sighing lightly. His lips left a heated trail of small kisses up the side of your neck, before pressing directly against your ear.

"I need you, buttercup," Saeyoung whispered in a deep, hoarse voice. "Right now."

"...Shouldn't I be the one treating you, though?" you contemplated quietly, raising one of your hands to comb through his curly hair, eliciting a pleased hum from him that caused you to shiver in turn. "It is your birthday, after all. Not mine. You should be getting all the attention tonight."

"Oh, you're more than welcome to treat me," Saeyoung murmured softly against your skin, his warm breath creating a tickling sensation on your neck as he moved his lips downwards, planting kisses towards the lower part of your throat, nearing your collarbone. "It's just that my favorite treat just happens to be you."

His hands firmly gripped your thighs again, gently massaging the soft flesh with growing greediness that always tended to come out of him whenever you two got intimate. A greediness you've always welcomed happily. Then, gradually, he moved up to your hips and settled on the small area of exposed skin between your pajamas shorts and shirt. His lips now touched your collarbone, leaving a trail of lovebites in their wake, then moved towards your shoulder, all while his fingers started to trace back and forth along the border of your shorts, gently touching the delicate skin there. It was impossible to focus on anything but his smothering presence overwhelming your every sense. Not that you wanted to. You would happily drown in his touch, each and every time.

"Saeyoung..."

"-Besides," he mumbled, his breath warm against your skin. "You're all I want, anyways. As long as I have you right here, with me, I'm good for the rest of my life, trust me on that."

Despite the circumstances, you managed to give out a hearty laugh at that.

"...You are such a dork," you said with an obvious fondness in your voice, shaking your head at him slightly. You glided your finger across his black button-up, tracing his chest where it was casually unbuttoned, the small shiver that ran through his body at your delicate touch making you grin to yourself. After all, he was just as affected by you as you were by him.

"Well you married this dork, thank you very much," Saeyoung smirked as his own finger trailed down your chest in return, mimicking your gesture. With a mix of love and longing in his eyes, he raised his head and looked up at you. "And this dork needs you bad, right now."

"Well, who am I to deny the birthday boy?"

With that, you slid down and gently cupped his cheek with the palm of your hand, pressing your lips against his at long last, tasting the sweet cherry flavor on his tongue with a pleased hum. A gentle sound of pleasure rumbled in the back of Saeyoung's throat as he immediately reciprocated the kiss with equal fervor.

You quickly molded your body into his as you shared a tender, lingering kiss that only grew in passion as seconds trickled by. Although he was clearly more than eager to move on to the next step with you right away, the affectionate and unhurried kisses seemed just perfect as they were. He slowly moved his hands up your abdomen, lifting your shirt as he went and feeling the warmth of your skin beneath his touch. You effortlessly lifted your arms for him, allowing him to smoothly remove your shirt from your body. Breaking off the kiss only for a moment, he swiftly did just that, discarding it somewhere on the floor, and then pulled you back in closer for another kiss, seemingly unwilling to be away from your lips for too long at a time.

Your seamless communication without any words being spoken was clear on display as you acted in perfect harmony with each other, your bodies moving as one. There was a certain beauty in that. To lose yourself in another's warmth and touch, letting yourself surrender and become a part of something special. A testament to the years of trust and experiences together.

Or maybe you were being a bit too sappy for your own good.

As Saeyoung pulled you closer for yet another kiss, your fingertips skillfully unbuttoned at his own shirt, gently brushing away the soft fabric to caress his warm chest, his skin smooth under your fingertips.

Saeyoung let out a soft moan into the kiss, feeling your hands trace over his muscles and scars reverently. By this point, you knew his body in all of its tiniest of details, as he did yours. Every freckle, every scar, every dip and crevice. You knew the stories behind all of his scars, shared in quiet conversations under the cloak of the night.

His scars were a reminder of his perseverance. And they made him that much more beautiful to you.

Meanwhile, his own hands eagerly explored your body, firmly grasping and squeezing in all the right places to make you jolt and shudder against him, as he explored the contours of your figure he already knew so well.

Saeyoung gently broke the kiss and looked back at you, his eyes now fully glazed over as you two panted, regaining your breathing from the heated exchange that just took place between you two. You shivered as you saw his lips, now plump and reddened as a result of your own actions, his cheeks dusted with a pretty shade of cherry-red that made his freckles even more prominent, the shade of his blush almost matching that fiery hair of his you loved so much.

He looked good enough to eat like that.

"You always know how to take my breath away, starshine..."

Saeyoung leaned up and gave you a gentle peck on the cheek that made your heart flutter in your chest. Then, he moved his hands lower to take hold of your ass again, but this time, with clear intention rather than a mere tease. He began to lift you up effortlessly, to which you only gave him a questioning look, but went along with it nonetheless, wrapping your arms around his neck and hooking you legs over his hips to help him out. He grinned at that, giving you another quick, appreciative kiss. This time, on the tip of your nose.

He carefully guided you off his lap and instead positioned you onto the coffee table next to the cake, settling you down with your back against the armrest of the couch and your lower body now resting comfortably on the edge of the table.

Your breath caught audibly as you observed his every movement with reverence. Your eyes were half-lidded, just as captivated by him and perfectly oblivious to everything and anything else in the room at this moment. You couldn't control it even if you wanted to; he was incredibly attractive, almost painfully so. Since that first silly selfie he sent to you in the chatroom all those years ago, you had always believed that to be the unrebukable truth. And even after everything you have experienced together over the past few years, he still managed to leave you utterly breathless.

His own expression was almost mesmerized and he smirked a bit to himself, taking in the captivating sight before him.

"Told you my favorite part of my birthday is already right here," he whispered softly while sinking down on his knees in front of you.

"Jesus, Saeyoung..." you exhaled shakily, your heart pounding all the way up in your temples, a mix of excitement and admiration gripping at your chest.

His hands rested on your thighs, his thumbs gently caressing the smooth skin there. Gradually, Saeyoung parted your legs, positioning himself between them, and lifting your legs to rest comfortably on his shoulders.

As he gazed up at you with amber eyes now darkened by desire, he formed a knowing smile that almost made you whimper from the sight of it alone.

Even though you tried your best, you wriggled impatiently on the coffee table while he touched you, kneeling before you in such a breathtaking manner. The mere sight of him in that position for you ignited a strong sense of lust within you, and it only intensified with every passing moment. However, you held off on the urge to rush him - as you usually do with him - even though you knew he wouldn't mind you being demanding with him. In fact, it was quite the opposite. Your knuckles turned white as you tightly grasped the edge of the coffee table, your breathing inevitably quickening in anticipation and making your heart beat ever faster, pounding against your ribcage and sending blood pumping to the growing knot of desire in the pit of your stomach.

"You look just like an angel like that, you know..." Saeyoung whispered, not at all helping with your growing state of lust-filled turmoil.

With that, he bent down to plant a series of kisses along the sensitive inner flesh of your calves, slowly moving up to your inner thighs, towards the aching spot between your legs where you needed him most. He firmly grasped at your thighs with his fingers, holding them open for him while he gently and sensually kissed up, nearing the edge of your silky shorts. The warmth and scent of you were driving him wild, intensifying his craving for more, to bury his face between your thighs and taste you on his tongue.

However, he, too, refrained for now. He made sure to spend enough time with you to savor you like you deserved, kissing you gently everywhere but where you really wanted him, until he breathed on the thin fabric covering your core.

"...Are you seriously about to eat me out on your birthday? Like I said, it should be me treating you, not the other way around," you murmured, your voice hoarse and breathy, a clear sign of your ever-increasing arousal.

"But you are treating me," Saeyoung said matter-of-factly, his breath touching your skin. "And this is the best treat you can give me, love bug, trust me."

He was driving you crazy, dear god.

You couldn't quite understand what had gotten into him today, but you definitely weren't complaining in the slightest. His every action caused your breath to catch in your throat and your chest to fill with nervous excitement for what would happen next. Seeing him in this state, kneeling between your legs, so eager and willing to taste you without you even having to ask...

Wow, you really hit the jackpot with him, huh? Though, it's not like you were unaware of that. But it was truly surprising to you that he was doing this for you on his own birthday. By all accounts, it should have been you pleasuring him, not the other way around. And yet, he was more than eager to focus on you instead. That damn lovable goofball.

Your breath was shaky, and your hand instinctively reached down to gently stroke his hair, wishing to show him some of your affection and gratitude, to which you felt him hum appreciatively against you, making your legs shake a bit.

Saeyoung moved closer, positioning his face directly between your legs now. He lowered his head and nuzzled his cheek against one of your thighs, taking a moment to just breathe in your scent and soak in your warmth. Then, slowly and deliberately, he turned his head and planted a firm kiss directly on your clothed core. He could feel the heat practically radiating from you by this point, and he made a soft sound of approval, closing his eyes for a moment to just enjoy the feel of you.

In a way, it was to remind himself that you were really here. Real. Even now, he would still find himself doubtful and paranoid of this fragile happiness you have built with him so generously. The mere fact that you have chosen to give your heart to him was a miracle he will cherish for the rest of his days on this Earth, of that, he was certain.

The least he could do was make you feel good like this. Show you his appreciation through his touch. Ravish you like you deserve.

Saeyoung leaned closer, pressing his face against you, sensing the dampness that could already be felt through the soft fabric of your thin shorts. He raised his head slightly to lock eyes with you, then trailed his nose along the curve of your hip, feeling the soft fabric of your shorts against his skin.

The eye contact was just too much.

"Can we please get these shorts off me?" you whined softly, uncertain how much longer you could handle being teased like this, even though you knew he wasn't doing it intentionally.

Yet.

Saeyoung chuckled at your request, his warm breath tickling your skin. He obviously noticed how your body trembled with every movement, and it only fueled his desire to playfully taunt you with all that he had. However, right now, he only wanted to taste you, to make you come undone for him, above all else.

"Roger that, my lovely 606," he whispered in a hushed and raspy voice. "Lift up for me, starshine."

You complied without any extra guidance needed, raising your hips from the table all while taking in the familiar combination of nervousness and eagerness buzzing in your chest.

Saeyoung took a moment to appreciate the sight before him, admiring you in your vulnerable state. Your body was now fully exposed to him, laid out, and ready for him to enjoy. He slowly moved his hands up your legs, observing how your muscles responded to his touch, twitching and tensing in anticipation. With care, he hooked his fingers under the waistband of your shorts and smoothly pulled them down along with your underwear, discarding the soft pieces of clothing along with your shirt in a messy pile on the floor. As soon as you were completely bare from the waist down, Saeyoung moved closer and placed his hands back on your hips. Without much delay, he once again buried his face between your thighs, no more barriers getting in the way of his desire.

You trembled a bit, attempting to avoid squeezing your legs together around his head. A soft whimper escaped your mouth as you felt him finally touch you where you needed him most, your heart pounding in your chest, your pulse reverberating in your temples. You reached down with one hand and gently stroked his hair again, not tugging at it quite yet. Though it will probably happen eventually as the night progresses. His hair would always end up a mess after this. A very lovely looking, fiery mess.

As Saeyoung exhaled, his breath was hot and heavy against your folds, feeling the warmth and wetness now pressed directly against his nose. He had no shame in expressing his enjoyment of it all. He couldn't contain himself and let out a soft, eager moan as he savored the first taste of you, his tongue quickly getting to work as he swiped it between your folds in a painfully slow motion, savoring the feel of you against him.

He observed how your muscles tightened as a result of his ministrations, the sounds of your soft gasps going straight to his groin as he fought back the urge to squirm on his spot. This was about you. He'll get his share later. He gently glided his hands down from your hips to your thighs, encouraging you to relax.

"Relax, buttercup," Saeyoung murmured against you, his warm breath touching your core and making you tremble. "Just let me treat you..."

He turned and placed a few more leisurely, heated kisses on the inside of your thighs before diving back in, his whole mouth now fully on you, leaving nothing to imagination. He savored your taste with a deep, primal moan as he finally got what he wanted. His gentle pressure on your legs kept them apart for him, his hands holding you firmly while you twitched uncontrollably, keeping you exposed to him.

His tongue gently teased at your entrance, gathering some more of your juices, then moved higher to circle around your clit, his lips sucking on it gently, his gaze now fully focused on your face.

As you threw your head back with a needy moan, you realized that this was going to be a long night.

Taking deep, unsteady breaths, you tried your best to soothe your pounding heart and the lingering tremors that were a stark reminder of your passionate lovemaking that took place only minutes prior. With you now resting on Saeyoung's chest, you both reclined on the couch, gradually regaining your composure.

You finally broke the comfortable silence by letting out a soft chuckle after a while.

"So... That's certainly one way to start off a birthday," you repeated your earlier words, your fingers drumming against his bicep lightly.

The sound of Saeyoung's breathless laughter quietly vibrated within his chest as you rested against him. He smiled at you, tracing delicate designs on your skin, his hands gently stroking your back.

"One of the best birthdays I've had, I'd say," he said with a slightly hoarse voice as a result of your previous activities together. Though, you loved how he sounded when he was like this. All breathless, a bit raspy, and gravely. Because of you.

He adjusted his position slightly, bringing you in closer to him, relishing in the messy sensation of your sweaty, naked body against his. He tucked his face into your hair, taking a moment to unwind and soak up the warm afterglow with you. This time, he was the one who broke the silence, his voice now being more gentle and contemplative than playful: "...Seriously, though, what did I do to deserve an angel like you, hm?"

You expressed your irritation by rolling your eyes and playfully bumping his bare chest with your fist.

"Hey, none of that. Especially on your birthday. Or I'll have to kiss you senseless to shut you up for good."

Saeyoung's eyes were quick to sparkle with lighthearted mischief as he grinned up at you: "...Is that supposed to be a threat, starshine? Because I'm afraid I won't mind that at all."

He reached out to gently hold your chin, tilting your head back a little, his lips hovering mere inches from your own.

"Maybe you'll give me a demonstration, my little alien? Shut me up, will you?" he whispered, his eyes filled with silent challenge for you. One that you took with not much thought.

"Gladly," you chuckled, leaning in and securing his lips in a soft, lingering kiss as the afterglow of your latest lovemaking washed over you in a pleasant, relaxing buzz in your achy muscles.

Your affection was immediately reciprocated, with Saeyoung emitting a soft moan and tightening his grip on your chin ever so slightly. Your lips touching his so gently and unhurriedly created a warm and contented sensation that has wrapped his heart in a soothing embrace he was unwilling to let go of. Gradually, he turned you both over, positioning your back against the couch, all without interrupting the kiss. His body now towered over yours.

Gradually, what started out as a simple press of your lips against his has escalated into a full-blown makeot session, with Saeyoung's tongue entering your mouth and savoring your taste all over again, never once getting tired of it. After all, he would often find himself getting insatiable when it came to you. He firmly grasped your waist with one of his hands, keeping you close to him.

His embrace made you tremble, as his passionate kisses caused your breath to get caught up in your throat all over again. However, you still retained enough awareness to pull back a bit, placing your hands on his chest, and gazing up at him with glazed over eyes and flushed cheeks. In this moment, Saeyoung appeared absolutely stunning. He was positioned above you, with the light from the ceiling creating a tinted shadow over his face, his skin glistening from the thin layer of sweat covering his body.

Now that's a sight for sore eyes.

"I can't get enough of you..." he murmured against your lips once he pulled away, his breaths shaky against your lips, his voice deep and husky once again. "Never could. Never will."

With genuine affection in your gaze, you gently stroked his cheek, letting out a soft, shaky giggle.

"I still want to be able to walk straight tomorrow for your birthday party, you know."

Saeyoung chuckled quietly at that, the sound resonating deep within his chest. Leaning closer, he was clearly enjoying the sensation of your touch on his cheek, even closing his eyes in contentment. At this point, he would likely be vibrating with his entire body, if only he could purr. A thought that made you laugh to yourself with amusement.

"Eh, can't promise anything, love bug," he whispered back with a slight playful smirk now playing on his lips.

His hand, which was previously resting idly on your waist, glided down to your inner thigh, applying gentle pressure and caressing the delicate skin there, but not doing anything more than that.

Nonetheless, you expressed your disapproval by lightheartedly rolling your eyes at him and adjusting your position slightly to raise yourself up onto your elbows.

"Come on, we do need some strength for tomorrow," you gave his cheek a gentle kiss. "Let's go start up a bath and go to bed for tonight. It's almost 2 am now, anyways."

Saeyoung gave out an overdramatic sigh, feigning disappointment. His eagerness for a second round was evident, maybe even a third, if you were willing to let him. Nonetheless, he did acknowledge that you both indeed needed some rest.

"You're right, you're right," he conceded. Before getting up from the couch, he gave you one last kiss on the lips. "I'll get the bath ready, you go get the towels, deal?"

"Deal."

He caught one last sight of you swiftly standing up after him and walking away to get the towels and spare clothes for you both. His eyes scanned over your body, appreciating your every movement and the way your skin glowed smoothly in the light of the apartment, noticing the small marks he had left on you. He sighed once more and then entered the bathroom to begin preparing for the bath.

Meanwhile, you retrieved some towels and pajamas for both of you to change into after the bath. Satisfied, you headed back to the bathroom with pep in your step, eagerly anticipating the simple pleasure of relaxing in the warm, soapy water, ending this already wonderful evening on a very positive note.

When you entered the room, Saeyoung quickly turned his head to look at you, flashing you a wide grin.

"You can set those on the counter!"

He pointed towards the towels while still adjusting the water in the bathtub to ensure the temperature was just perfect for you. After turning off the faucet, he stepped away from the bathtub and observed the gentle movement of the bubbly water against the sides.

Unable to resist, he stole another appreciative glance at you, his eyes fixating on your physique before finally speaking again: "...You're going to give me a heart attack one of these days looking like that, starshine."

With clear disbelief, you looked over at him and raised your brows incredulously.

"...I'm literally just standing here, love."

Your blunt response was clearly more than amusing to him, as he folded his arms over his chest and leaned back against the counter: "Oh, I know. You just look angelic doing absolutely nothing, buttercup."

You entered the soothing bath with a slight snort and a shake of your head, exhaling a satisfied sigh as the fragrant water cleansed your sweaty body. The sweet scent of blackberry quickly surrounded you in a pleasant cloud of tranquility, and you even found yourself closing your eyes in pure bliss.

As you immersed yourself in the water, Saeyoung's eyes once again scanned over your body, observing your every move with warm affection in his gaze. Nonetheless, his attention was still directed towards the various marks he was the direct cause of: proof of his existence now scattered across your skin like a temporary tattoo. Small marks in the shape of his lips and fingers that were now turning a pretty shade of red thanks to the heat from the water. A familiar feeling of fulfillment rose within him at the sight, knowing that he had left his trace on you, that you were his in body and spirit, as much as he was completely yours in turn. He was even tempted to leave a few more, but he realized it was far too late in the night to bother you with that. You both needed to rest, and above all, he just wanted to hold you in his arms and feel your warmth.

"Hey, scooch forward a bit. I'm getting in," he said, tilting his head toward the water.

And that was exactly what you did, quickly adjusting your position in the bathtub and gazing up at him with a small smile of anticipation, waiting for him to join you at last.

Saeyoung stepped closer to the bathtub until he was right behind you, and then slowly lowered himself into it, taking a seat and wrapping his arms securely around your waist. He drew you in toward his chest, keeping you close and placing you snuggly between his legs.

"Mmm. Much better," he whispered to you softly, nesting his face into your neck and planting a few light kisses on your skin. "God, I love holding you like this, starshine."

As you leaned back against him, a gentle smile tugged at the corners of your lips, letting out a contented sigh. The delightful aroma of the soapy water and the affectionate touch of your husband had you in a truly happy mood. Taking a bath together was like shooting two birds with one stone: both cleansing yourself as well as finding solace in one another after engaging in some rather intense activities with him. You gently rested your hand on one of his arms, which encircled your waist beneath the water and kept it there, your thumb running over his skin in slow circles.

As he leaned back against the bathtub, Saeyoung felt the sensation of your warm skin against his chest, almost completely pressing against you. He slowly moved his hands down your sides, gently touching your skin while he buried his face in your hair.

"Happy birthday, Saeyoung," you said in a hushed voice.

His warm breath touching your ear, Saeyoung released a gentle laugh.

"You already gave me the best gift I could ask for," he replied, the tone of his voice deep and playful. He delicately held the lower part of your jaw and tilted your head upwards before planting a series of slow, leisurely kisses on your neck after shifting one of his hands from your side. "...You."

[quitefair]

The Temple of Mythal and Greek Sculpture

Or: How Bioware takes from history without any nuance.

--

Picture this. You're me, playing Inquisition for the first time. You get to the Temple of Mythal, the doors shut behind you and you finally get to look around. It's a typical elven ruin for the game, nothing much seems different...

Hold on.

Hold the fuck on.

You know what that is.

You know what that's based on, and for a long time after it tickles you. Oh, maybe that meant something in the grander scheme of things! We've never seen such a blatant reference to a real-life sculpture anywhere else in game (to my knowledge at the time)! Maybe it'll come up later and it'll all make sense!

Here's the deal. I've been bothered by this for years. The more I think about it, the more angry I become. Anger over a single fucking type of statue, you say? There's a lot of other shit to be angry over in this game, and you choose this?

YES! I CHOOSE THIS! AND THIS IS WHY.

--

Picture this. You're me again, aged 14 this time. You're in the Louvre, the first museum of Western classical art you've ever been to. You've grown up in a place where this interest could only be cultivated from extra-curricular reading, and for a kid that age from my country to be ass deep in Greek and Egyptian myth is frankly lmao. Neurodivergent. Anyway.

So we're wandering around the Louvre, I've just taken my parents through the Egyptian section and given them a thorough infodump on everything I know about burial rites.

And then we enter this room. And I very nearly fall to my knees when I catch sight of her.

This is the sculpture the statues at the Temple of Mythal are based on - one Winged Victory of Samothrace.

She is a sculpture from the Hellenestic era, depicting the goddess Nike stood at the prow of a ship. Her head and both arms are missing, save one hand with two fingers (also in the Louvre but displayed separately). She was found on the Greek island of Samothrace, among the ruins of what was known as the Sanctuary of the Great Gods. It seemed like she was displayed at the top of a hill, looming down at all that regarded her.

I’ve had the absolute privilege of seeing her in person twice in my life, both before and after the 2013 restoration. And let me tell you, regardless of which staircase that leads you there, the sight of her will stop you in your tracks.

[Now with people, for scale.]

She is massive. Larger than life, and immediately is the centre of your attention. It's not the fact that she has no head, no arms. No, you will realise the closer you get to her, the more you're able to appreciate the details of this absolutely astounding piece of history.

No. It's because she feels so alive.

The way her robes drape against flesh, wet from sea-spray or rain, yet flowing with the motion of an invisible wind. The wings cast behind her dramatically as her right foot steps forward. Standing tall and proud, unflinching, unbowed against the elements. Even without her arms, you can feel how dynamic the torso and legs are.

You don't need to be an art historian, or even have any knowledge of Greek myth or art history to stand in front of her, as I once did as a young teen, and nearly be brought to tears.

So.

This brings me to the first of the two main gripes I have with the way this sculpture is used in Inquisition.

Compared to the way she's displayed in the Louvre, and also presumably how she was presented to her original audience - larger than life, looming, powerful, beautiful - she is relegated instead to smaller, repeating statues of the same nature throughout the temple.

This diminishes the purpose of the original sculpture, which was to instill a sense of awe and wonder. The singularity that forces you to focus and appreciate the scale and intricacy. The aura, the gravitas of having a single, massive sculpture of such a dynamic figure is completely gone.

And to make things worse, they Mythal-ify her. Adding a helmed head and changing her beautiful feathered wings to leathery dragon wings. They don't even add arms, which is odd because the original sculpture very clearly is missing its arms.

And, may I ask, Why?

It feels cheap, like they saw the Winged Victory and were like 'oh shit this is a cool sculpture, we should add it in game' without giving any fucking thought to what the sculpture means.

Which brings me to the second gripe. The complete disregard for the symbolism of the Winged Victory.

Detail from the Athena fountain, Parliament Building of Vienna, showing Nike the Winged Victory in the palm of Athena's hand [source]

Nike is a minor Greek deity, said to be the daughter of Pallas (a Titan) and the river Styx. Her other siblings by the same parents include Zelus (Zeal), ��Bia (Might) and Kratos (Strength).

Yes. That Kratos.

She was one of the earliest gods to pledge her allegiance to Zeus in the Titonomachy, and after the victory of the Olympians, Nike and the other gods that allied with them were allowed to live on Olympus. In her aspect as Victory, she is closely associated with several of the major Greek gods, and in particular, Athena.

There's also her Roman counterpart, Victoria. This version doesn't come with the backstory Nike has, but is more of a general concept of victory. This is the aspect that is present in a lot of the modern sculptures and interpretations of Nike/Victoria:

Left: Detail from the Berlin Victory Column. Right: Detail from the Victoria Memorial, London. Note the similar iconography, of a woman seemingly standing against a strong wind, fabric and cloth adhering and yet flowing against the breeze, wings outstretched.

From this, we can probably extrapolate what our beloved Winged Victory might've looked like. Here's an artist's render of one possibility:

There's some iconography we need to go through before moving on - symbols that are commonly associated with Nike/Victoria.

One is the trumpet as see in the reconstruction above, the sound and symbol of the end of war, of impending peace. Another is the laurel wreath, another Greek symbol of victory and achievement. Famously, laurel wreaths were used to crown victors of the original Olympic games.

This is another conversation entirely, but there’s a discussion to be had about the duality of Elgar’nan and Mythal, in term of vengeance and justice, and how an emotional rage versus a calculated wisdom can be compared to the difference between the two Greek gods of war – Ares and Athena.

If we can compare Mythal to Athena, in the sense of her wisdom in making difficult decisions, then it’s not a stretch to associate Mythal with the symbolism of Nike, and therefore explain the presence of statues similar to the Winged Victory in her temple.

But since Bioware absolutely did not put this in the game for anything other than the Aesthetic, there’s some problems that need to be addressed.

Mainly in the way in which these statues are scattered throughout the temple. If you wanted static, ominous statues to line the walls as your player characters explore, perhaps have like, I dunno. Less dynamic statues that you reference?

Left: Nike of Paionos, Right: Stele 1 of Las Incantadas

Or maybe instead of statues, have friezes lining the walls. Like this one from the equally iconic Pergamon altar, depicting the Giganomanchy.

It’s the same symbolism, the wings, the smiting of foes and victory of good over evil.

And then perhaps, at the heart of the temple... where, y'know Bioware, lay a body of water sacred to Mythal herself, you could've perhaps done something remarkable. You could then have had the most dramatic and beautiful entrance you’d ever seen.

[Nike, at the iconic Daru Staircase, the Louvre]

It was at this moment that Mythal walked out of the sea of the earth's tears and onto the land. She placed her hand on Elgar'nan's brow, and at her touch he grew calm and knew that his anger had led him astray. - Codex entry: Mythal: The Great Protector

Mythal herself strides out of the Well Of Sorrows, the metaphorical tears of her followers that died and kept their knowledge alive in her name. Her (draconic) wings spread out, (restored) hands outstretched to touch her husband, to calm the rage that nearly destroyed this world.

A symbol of victory against the blind rage of a god against His father, the Sun. A symbol of wisdom and grace, against the violence of hatred. A divine sense of something bigger than anything we could imagine.

There's also the lack of iconography regarding victory, instead piling on some cheap representations of what we think of as Mythal. That's another post entirely on the symbolism of the Elven gods, but if Bioware really wanted to hone in on the Athena/Athena Nike parallels, they might have thrown in the trumpet/laurel/palm leaf symbolism with the statues, alongside the dragon wings.

If this were the case, then maybe, just maybe, Inquisition would’ve then earned the use of this sculpture in the game.

Sources not listed above/Further reading if you're interested

https://www.louvre.fr/en/explore/the-palace/a-stairway-to-victory

https://www.worldhistory.org/article/1412/winged-victory-the-nike-of-samothrace/https://smarthistory.org/nike-winged-victory-of-samothrace/

https://smarthistory.org/nike-winged-victory-of-samothrace/

https://www.khanacademy.org/humanities/ancient-art-civilizations/greek-art/hellenistic/a/nike-winged-victory-of-samothrace

[ohitslen]

BREAKING NEWS 🎉Ch. 5 of The neighbor from 311 is up!🎉

[shady-tavern]

Deals and Revelry

Warnings ahead of both attempted and implied murder, along with one, early-on instance of non-consensual drug use. Please take care of yourselves.

***

In a city as big as this it was easy to get lost, easy to slip between the cracks. Easy to go unnoticed even if one walked like a severely drunk sailor fresh back on the shore.

You stumbled against the alley wall, woozy and half numb and your vision was just the faintest bit off, the world around you roiling as though the ground itself had become the sea, rising and falling in slow, cresting waves. 

Your breath was fogging in front of your face and you knew it was too cold to be out and about without a cloak, but you hadn't really gotten to grab one. Or shoes. You couldn't really feel your feet anymore.

But you were getting close. Already you could see the lights and colorful banners and decorations on the other side of the alley. You could hear it too, the sound of the Revelry, the biggest entertainment street of this city. A cesspool of backroom deals and unfettered delight.

Music and laughter mixed with the breathy moans of a couple that stumbled into the alley, the women pushing each other against the brick wall, one hoisting the other into her arms. You saw the glint of metal on one of them, the armor of the city guard and the cloak that fell down to her knees, cloth a dark forest green.

Neither paid you any mind when you shuffled down the alley, using the wall as your anchor. At this point it was the only thing properly keeping you up and walking in a straight line. You must look drunk, even if you were anything but.

You barely felt the cold with the numbness and as you stumbled out of the alley, it felt like you were hit by a wall of light and sound and movement. Lanterns were strung all across the street, reaching from house to house and the glass painted or stained, casting a multitude of colors across everything. 

People danced in big groups or on tables, more getting pulled into alleys by one or more people, big grins on their faces. Dancers and musicians performed on the stage by the crossroads that led to the Revelry, while other stages were dotted down the street, showing off other performers. 

Sword jugglers, puppeteers, actors and jesters all put on the show of the night, accompanied by music. Fortune tellers weaved through the crowd, peddlers with carts stood on corners and servers with strong arms brought round after round of drinks and food from taverns. Others lured the drunk or amorously interested towards many of the inns, slipping clever hands into unguarded coat pockets.

You had to take a moment to get used to everything and orientate yourself, to look beyond the street wide revelry towards the main house. Bigger than all the others, a four story building, freshly painted pale green walls surrounded by black wood. 

Through the lit windows you saw more partying, more dancing and someone swinging through the air gracefully.

That was your destination.

You pushed off of the corner you had stumbled against and walked onward, forcing one unsteady step in front of the other. People barely noticed when you staggered past them, some even clapping you on the back and pointing towards inns before they continued on their way.

You passed tables laden with food and drink, tables where people played games, cards and dice and something that needed a knife and quick reflexes. The air smelled heavily of ale and perfume and sweat. 

Coats and skirts billowed, hands clapping and boots meeting cobblestone like muted drums when you passed by a group of dancers.

It felt like it took forever to make your way to the main house, the Revelry that this street, this gathering was named after. A big sign was mounted over the large entrance door, made of dark green wood and gold letters that looked freshly polished, shining in the light.

You shouldered inside, heat and smells greeting you, followed by loud cheers. So loud and from so many throats they seemed to make the air itself rumble.

Past the shifting bodies you got glimpses of a stage that went up to the second floor, of people swinging through the air, colorful figures catching others. 

The crowd cheered loudly once again, tankards getting raised or slammed onto tables in time with the jig the musicians played. Coin clattered and servers maneuvered past patrons like they were made of water, never slowing down, perfect smiles pasted on their faces.

It took you a long minute to spot him, the owner of this place, the founder of the Revelry, Quin. There were many whispers about this man who owned the night and even had the city guard unable to stop his dealings.

Face painted white with black tracks down his cheeks like tears, his lips were stained a bloody red and his grin was just a little too sharp. His canines just a tad too long. For all that he leaned back in his seat, languid and relaxed, he gave off an air of effortless power and dangerous grace.

He was dressed in expensive finery, diamond studded jewelry and silken, embroidered clothes that only the highest ranking noble houses would have been able to afford. Everything was modeled to resemble a court jester, a clear and unashamed mockery of those in power.

There were rumors about him, things you had heard here and there, whispers shared by friends and overheard from chatting guards who wishing to unsettle the new recruit. People said he had stopped being a mortal man before ever coming to this city, that he commanded the shadows and drank blood like wine. 

That he had made a pact with something that should have been left damn well alone. Something older and more dangerous than anything else.

As you tried to make your way towards him, stumbling into strangers who shoved you onward with either laughs or glares, you saw that he was speaking with a nervous looking man.

The man was tall and broad, shoulders tense and posture wary as he gripped his tankard, speaking to Quin about something. You couldn't hear what was being said, but Quin threw his head back and laughed and the burly man visibly grit his teeth, leaning back slightly as though worried.

Quin grinned at him, sharp teeth and dangerous eyes and waved a hand in a lazy gesture. A whip-thin woman melted out of the shadows, dressed in all black and with a blank, white mask covering her face. 

She came to stand at Quin's side and offered him a rolled up piece of parchment. Quin took it and held it out towards the burly man, still grinning.

The man took it after a long second of hesitation and the woman held out a quill next. There was no ink, but the man seemed to be able to sign anyway and you got a glimpse of bloody ink flowing from the dry quill. 

His face was grim when he handed the scroll back and the woman stepped forward when Quin accepted it, waiting and arms loose at her sides. 

The man got up and she followed him and they disappeared into the crowd. When Quin got to his feet, you made yourself move faster. He couldn't slip away. Not when you were so damn close.

You tripped over someone's foot, the person giving you an annoyed shove, but it propelled you forward the last bit. Undignified, yes, but Quin caught you before you could fall to your face.

"Now there, usually I have to put in some work to make people swoon like this," he said with a mocking undertone, pulling you upright with seemingly no effort at all. Before he could let go, you gripped his arms, making him raise his brows.

"Here for a deal," you managed to slur out and for just a moment it looked like he was going to send you away anyway, before he paused and leaned in.

"You are not drunk," he said, a warm finger curling under your chin to tip it up, making your gaze meet his dark eyes. "Tell me, did you intend to ingest a drug?"

Your grip on his arms tightened and a smile curled across his face that managed to be far more dangerous than the one the burly man had gotten. The sort of smile that made it easy to imagine blood being spilled and a last breath being exhaled.

"Now, I don't like that in my establishment at all," he downright purred, moving in a step, head bending down towards you a bit. He was propping you up with his body more than anything else with how close he was and you were glad he hadn't shaken you off. "Why don't you point me to the one who did that, sweetheart?"

You shook your head. It was getting harder to think and you could feel his warmth through the numbness that gripped your limbs. You had no idea how much longer you could fight this off, especially now that you had finally found him and you didn't have to force yourself to keep moving.

You were just so relieved you thoughtlessly leaned into his hold. The only reason you caught the brief flash of surprise in his eyes was because you were so close to him.

"I need a deal," you managed to say, unable to raise your voice much, but with him right there, breath lightly brushing your nose and cheek, he heard you well enough. "Please."

"Why don't you tell me what happened first, hm?" he asked, curled finger still under your chin. His brows furrowed slightly. "You are quite cold, were you outside until recently?" His dangerous grin returned. "I can find out who did this, even if it was down the street, don't you worry."

"My fiancé," you said and the smile fell away as his brows rose. "His mother is going to kill my parents and then me. They will do it after the wedding tomorrow. Please."

"Hm." He seemed curious at least. "Why not go to the city guard? I know I'm never the first resort, only the desperate and degenerate come here." He leaned a little closer still, your noses almost touching, revealing a hint of his sharp teeth as he smiled. "You do know what kind of deals I offer, don't you, sweetheart?"

"They're too rich," you made yourself say. Your tongue felt heavier than before and it was getting harder to keep your eyes open. "They have deals with the captain of the guard."

Quin suddenly sounded delighted. "Is that so? How delightful, I knew Albert was going to slip up one day. Thank you for that one, darling. But why not grab your parents and go away instead of coming here?"

"They arranged the wedding." And you hadn't even minded at first. The wealthy merchant's son had been pleasant enough after all, polite and maybe a bit reserved but not unfriendly.

Neither of you would have married for love, but during the conversations you had shared with the young, admittedly pretty man, it had become clear the two of you could have come to a good agreement. 

Not all marriages were unions of hearts after all and there were plenty of ways to make it work. Plenty of ways to treat this like any old business agreement that both sides could benefit from. You had even thought the two of you could become good friends in given time.

Until you had overheard his mother's plans by accident tonight and had gotten discovered when you had tried to sneak away from her study. Your fiancé had done nothing when your future mother in law had gotten her personal guard to grab you before you could flee. 

Your future mother in law had put some clear liquid into a cup of water while the guard had wrestled you towards her, muttering that you had to keep quiet until the wedding. That your parents wouldn't care about the state you were in so long as you signed the wedding contract. 

She wasn't even wrong. Your parents would never again get the sort of deal the merchant had made with them. Your parents' business would join together with hers and it would make everyone all the richer. But if everyone died after the wedding, then your future mother in law would get to own your family business through her son.

Your parents wanted wealth too much themselves and unless you had managed to prove that your fiancé mistreated you, which he never did, they wouldn't stop the wedding for anything. Neither would they believe you if you showed up with wild sounding accusations such as planned murder out of nowhere.

Your future mother in law had proceeded to shove the concoction down your throat once she had it in the cup – or part of it at least.

It had been nothing but pure luck that you had managed to take hold of the guard's dagger at their hip and draw it. It had been a mad scramble where you had lashed out in a blind panic, the guard falling back with a howl and hands pressed over their bleeding face.

You had stabbed your future mother in law right in the thigh and had run, managing to toss a vase at your fiancé's head. Then you had kept running straight here. The only place you could think of to get help. The only place you trusted would help you, even if you'd have to give up something in the process. 

You just wanted to live.

"I see." Quin tipped your chin up again, your head having slumped down a bit. You met his gaze and there was a red, fiery glow lurking in his dark eyes as though embers had come to life. "Want to me to get rid of your parents too?"

"No." They hadn't been...great, recently, but you wanted to deal with them yourself. "I don't want to die."

"I suppose you wouldn't," Quin murmured, almost too quietly for you to hear him. "Alright then, let's get you situated."

He moved his arm to hold you around the shoulders and bending down to pick you up under your knees. His words registered and you sagged with relief at once, pressing your head against his shoulder.

You felt him pause for just a moment and you felt the shift of muscle along his neck as he looked down at you.

"Aren't you a strange one," you heard him murmur. He was quiet for a second, then chuckled, low and dark. "Just alone to spite you I will do exactly that."

It didn't sound like he was speaking to you and he turned around, walking away from the press of bodies. Even half passed out you noticed it when the air shifted and five people stepped straight out of the shadows. 

They were all masked, blank or painted, their clothes either black or colorful. You moved your head enough to peer past Quin's shoulder and you saw the glint on metal on them, blades and daggers, armor hidden under cloaks and silk shawls. 

They looked nothing like the guards or mercenaries, but each and every one of them felt threatening enough that you half expected to cut yourself on their presences alone.

But most dangerous of them all was Quin. He felt like walking death as he held you, something so dangerous it would have stolen your breath away under any other circumstance. Instead, it made you relax further, one hand rising to lightly grip his sinfully soft silk doublet.

Quin hummed softly and this time, the words were directed at you as he said, "You are very strange indeed."

"Boss?" you heard one of the masked ones ask and when Quinn made a low noise, they stepped past to open a door at the back of the large tavern room. "What's your order?"

"I think we're going to have fun tonight," Quin said, voice light, but if words were capable of dripping blood, his would have, staining his tongue and sliding down his chin, thick and copper-sweet.

Quin carried you down a hallway and another door was opened within a few moments. The sound of the revelry was muffled and almost far away now as he stepped into a room and a couple of steps later you were gently set down on a couch that was softer than your own bed.

"You're not even wearing shoes," Quin mused and paused when you found yourself holding onto his sleeve when he stepped back. "Easy now, sweetheart, we'll take care of that little mess, won't we?"

"Thank you," you managed to slur out and he hummed again, waiting with unexpected patience for you to let go. When you did, he spread something warm and heavy over you. A blanket. "Sleep now. Believe it or not, but you will be safe here."

"I know." And you did believe him. Somehow, despite everything you had been taught and all the rumors you had heard, Quin felt safe. Safe enough that the fear that had driven you to his Revelry finally released it's bruising grip on you altogether.

Warm knuckles brushed your cheek. "You actually do believe it," Quin murmured. "That's a first, I have to admit."

"Deal?" you made yourself ask, because everyone knew that Quin always made deals. He never did anything for free. 

Quin was silent for a long moment. Long enough that you thought he wouldn't answer, until he said, "You already gave me something no one else has. Not in a very long time at least. Let that be my payment. Rest, sweetheart. Your worries will be dead when you wake."

You heard rustling as he shifted and turned around to walk away. 

"My friends," Quin said, voice strong and confident and there was a deep rumble to his words, something just a little too unnatural. No human throat should be able to make that sound.

The last words you heard before you faded into unconsciousness were said with a grin that dripped with malevolent violent, "Tonight we hunt."

*.*.*

You woke up with your head pounding and your mouth tasting the way old, wet socks smelled. Your body ached all over and when you tried to shift, you ended up groaning and burrowing more into the pillow. A pillow that smelled nothing like yours.

"Good morning," an amused voice said and you blearily forced your eyes open and looked up.

There he was, Quin, the founder of the Revelry. Your memories of last were a little foggy, but mostly you recalled his warmth and how safe you had felt. You still felt safe and warm now, bundled beneath a thick, soft blanket.

"Still not afraid, I see," he mused and leaned back a bit. He wore different clothes to last night, something a bit more muted, but the face paint was still there. "I have to thank you, we had quite a bit of fun tracing back your steps and getting to hunt." 

His head tipped and his smile widened into that dangerous grin, showing his teeth. His lips were painted a blood red so vivid you wouldn't have been surprised if he had used actual, fresh blood. "Want a trophy?"

"No, thank you." You winced at how croaky your voice sounded and you forced yourself to sit up, limbs aching. You blinked when an elegant hand offered you a cup of water.

You took it and for just a split second you remembered the way your future mother in law had forced spiked water down your throat, then you shook off the memory. Quin of all people had no need to drug your drink, especially when he had had you drugged and at his mercy just hours prior.

"What do I owe you?" you asked after emptying the cup.

Quin raised a brow and sat down on the other end of the couch, thigh nearly brushing your toes. He leaned back, throwing one arm over the backrest of the couch as he regarded you with dark, curious eyes. "You're not going to ask if we took care of the problem?"

"You always do," you answered. "At least, that's what I heard."

"A business man such as myself takes great pride in a good reputation," Quin mused. "You are correct, they are very much dead. I would not recommend visiting that house anytime soon if it can be avoided."

"Thank you." The relief was still as potent as last night, thought not quite as soul-deep, for the fear wasn't there anymore. "What do I owe you?"

Quin waved you off with a dismissive flap of his hand. "You already paid, don't you worry your pretty little head." Before you could do so much as open your mouth to protest, he got to his feet again. "And now I will be dreadfully rude by tossing you out on your ear. I need my office back, sweetheart."

Blinking, you realized that you were, indeed, in an office. Lavishly decorated, with a rug as black as coal and, very, very faintly visible stains along the hardwood that you were willing to identify as dried blood.

"Of course, I'm sorry for being a bother," you said hurriedly, freeing your legs from the blanket, but the moment you tried to get up, your feet bumped into shoes. Looking down in surprise, you saw simple shoes in your size, a little scuffed but otherwise well maintained.

"I'll pay you for these," you offered and Quin rolled his eyes as you put them on.

"Just bring them back later. Now, please go." He ushered you up and pushed you out the door with a polite smile, gesturing down the hallway to the door that led into the tavern.

Instead of closing the door, however, he leaned against the doorframe and a bare moment later the door to the tavern swung open and the captain of the guard marched inside.

Before you knew it, you had shied back to Quin's side, as Albert glowered at you so viciously it wouldn't have surprised you if his glare had seared your skin like acid.

"No need to be impolite, Captain," Quin said with a smile sharp enough to peel away layers of skin. Albert flinched, just a little and the way he averted his gaze to his feet was all the more noticeable for it. "We're just going to have a friendly chat."

Quin pressed one warm palm against the small of your back. "Go on," he murmured, leaning closer to you, his warm breath brushing the shell of your ear. "He won't do anything." He raised his voice without moving back, gaze pinning Albert in place the way a scientist would pin down a helpless butterfly. "Won't he?"

Albert said nothing, but he stopped walking and moved over to the side, freeing up as much of the hallway as he could. Quin gave you a small push and you walked on, shuffling past the captain of the guard, feeling like a scurrying mouse.

You glanced back just once when you reached the door. Quin regarded Albert with feigned, gentle politeness as he walked past him into his office, the door closing behind the two of them.

Barely anyone was in the tavern at this hour when you stepped into the large room. Some hungover people sat at the bar, stirring oatmeal or nibbling on dry bread, looking either a bit green or half asleep. 

The place was cleaner than it would have been elsewhere after a night of wild partying. No smashed glass was anywhere, not even spilled, sticky residue from drinks. Everything from the bartop to the tables and the floor looked freshly wiped down.

The air was still cool, but not as cold as last night when you left the tavern, the sky overcast. 

The street outside the Revelry looked cleaned up as well, tables moved to the side, chairs stacked on top, to make for easy passing. A carriage rattled through and you heard someone puke in an alley as you passed by with quick steps.

It felt almost unreal as you made your way home. Your childhood home, not the big townhouse you had stayed in in preparation for your wedding. Your parents were at the kitchen table, greeting you with smiles when you entered.

"Looking forward to your big day?" your father asked as he buttered his breadroll. "Your dress is waiting upstairs for you."

They didn't know yet. You took a deep breath and it filled your lungs in a way it hadn't for weeks. You felt free, you realized. Free of your fiancé and a future you hadn't wanted, even if you would have accepted it with dignity and plans to make things work to the best of your abilities. 

You took another deep breath, marveling at how much lighter you felt. "There won't be a wedding," you said and the words almost made you smile. When your parents looked up, surprised and worried, you added, "They got killed last night."

It was as though your parents saw you properly for the first time. Your nightclothes which were inappropriate to leave the house in, the shoes they had never seen you wear before and your somewhat bedraggled and worn appearance.

"What happened?" your father asked at the same time as your mother said, "What did you do?"

And now you did smile, just a little. It wasn't a happy expression and you probably looked more like you were baring your teeth. "I made sure I lived."

*.*.*

The Revelry was filled with overlapping conversations and the occasional laugh as the afternoon crowd ate their lunch, spread out around the tables. 

Already preparations for tonight's party were in full swing, decorations being pinned in place and some performers were warming up, others checking the trapeze and ribbons to ensure nothing could go wrong.

Quin was at the bar, speaking with the barkeep who listened with an attentive frown. She gave an understanding nod and Quin tapped the bar with his palm, smiling in languid satisfaction.

He then noticed your approach, smiling easily at you as he turned to face you, leaning back against the bar, elbows braced on the bartop. He looked just as confident and in control as a king might on his throne.

"Sweetheart, what brings me the pleasure of your presence?" he asked as you approached. Today his outfit was as blood red as his lips, accented with black and his jewelry glinted gold, the rubies looking like drops of blood that hung from his ears and decorated his neck and hands.

"I'm going to return your shoes," you said and he waved you off when you presented them.

"I don't remember where I got them," he said with a shrug. "Leave them by the door if you like. Someone will pick them up at some point."

"Oh." You were about to step away again, Quin's attention already moving on, the conversation over in his mind, when you paused. You knew he said you had paid already, even if you had no idea how or when or with what, but it didn't feel like enough. "Let me take you out to dinner."

His dark gaze snapped back to you and from the corner of your eye you noticed the barkeeper openly gawk at you.

"Are you asking me out?" he sounded bemused and the faintest bit baffled. Realizing how your offer had sounded, you floundered for a moment, then shrugged awkwardly, waving around the shoes as you gestured.

"Just...I want to say thank you properly." When he was about to speak, you quickly added, "I know, you said I paid already, but I still want to do this. You did more than you had to that night."

The barkeep downright stared at you now, looking gobsmacked that you had interrupted her boss, her gaze bouncing between you two. Quin tipped his head, earrings glinting in the light that fell through the window. Then he smiled and shrugged.

"Alright, why not." He pushed off the bar, gesturing for you to go ahead. "Besides, what fool turns down a free meal? Lead the way, my dear."

You left the shoes beside the entrance beneath the coat rack, like he had suggested. A carriage was waiting outside, the one you had taken to this place and the driver was visibly uncomfortable when Quin smiled at him as he helped you inside with a slightly exaggerated bow.

"Fancy," Quin said with a toothy grin as he sat down across from you and you knocked against the roof, the carriage lurching into motion. "I can't say I've been asked out like this before."

"You did mention having trouble to make people fall for you," you found yourself saying and he blinked, then threw his head back as he laughed.

"Oh, I think I like you," he said, eyes looking even darker than before, his smile sharper. "This might be a fun outing after all. Say, where are you taking me?"

"It's a surprise," you answered and he leaned forward a bit, resting his elbows on his knees as though the carriage wasn't jostling the two of you around slightly.

"Can I guess?" he asked and at your shrug, he began to list places, starting with some waterholes you had heard the worst kind of stories about and ending with places so fancy and expensive only nobility would have been able to afford them.

You had to laugh at his latest suggestion and the carriage slowed to a stop a moment later. "Alright, we're here."

You got out first and offered your hand with the same exaggerated bow as he had and he grinned down, accepting it with over-the-top aplomb. Then he looked up, face brightening. "Oh my, you have chosen unexpectedly well."

You smiled and led the way inside. It wasn't easy to get a table in this place on short notice, but you had been lucky. A patron had cancelled their reservation just moments before you had shown up.

The server showed you to a table that had a good view of the stage and while he was polite, you noticed that he seemed unable to meet Quin's eyes. 

All the patrons around you seemed uncomfortable, turning tense and quiet as the two of you sat down. You noticed some whispering and two people subtly getting up and hurrying away. If Quin noticed as well, he made no mention of it.

Just after ordering food and drink, the first musician showed up and the strangers around you stopped mattering. There was no need to pay attention to anything else when people sang and played their instruments so wonderfully. Quin seemed more than happy to watch the performances as well.

"I think I have to see if I can poach some of them," he mused quietly during an interlude. He was half done with his meal and you were certain it should have grown cold by now, but it was still steaming slightly.

He turned back to you, looking thoughtful. "Are you trying to butter me up for something? Are you in need of a deal now that your future prospect has been...scattered." He said the last word with the sort of smile that felt like it should drip blood down his chin.

"No." You knew just how damn lucky you were that he hadn't demanded a proper deal from you. That whatever you had given him that night, it somehow had been payment enough. You would not tangle with that again if you could help it. "I just wanted to say thank you."

"Hm." He watched you a moment longer, then cut into his steak again. "I believe you."

The performances resumed shortly after and it was quite a pleasant meal. When at last it was over and Quin and you got up, the other patrons hung back, giving the two of you quite a berth. 

Quin was in high spirits, talking easily about what he had liked and enjoyed, gesturing and there was a small spring in his step.

"I have to say, that has been the best meal I had in quite a while," he said, offering his arm as you approached the stairs. You took it readily and he was still as warm as you remembered.

"I'm glad," you said. "I quite enjoyed myself as well." It had been unexpectedly easy to spend time with Quin. He clearly didn't care about impressing others or bothered to worry about what anyone thought of him and it was rather refreshing.

"Well, if you find yourself in need for a dinner companion again, you know where to find me," he said as he stopped in front of the carriage that had returned in time to pick you up. He helped you inside but didn't follow when you waited for him. "There are some artists I have to speak with. See you around, love."

He stepped back and you knocked on the carriage roof without looking away from him. You found your gaze lingering on him until the carriage rounded the corner. He had stayed where he was as he watched you leave, people still giving him plenty of space, their gazes averted.

*.*.*

Somehow, as the days and weeks passed, you found yourself returning to the Revelry again and again. You didn't always see Quin and sometimes he was too busy to do more than greet you, but that was alright. 

His staff had grown unexpectedly fond of you, greeting you with smiles and offering free drinks on the house. Aside from the artists, you got to know Quin's hunters, as most people called them, rather well. 

The hunters were the ones that wore masks and never showed their faces. The ones that everyone seemed uncomfortable around, though they seemed to find them slightly less unsettling than Quin.

Quin, whenever he had time for you, was excellent company. He made you feel warm and welcome and it was so easy to relax and be yourself in his presence. He made you laugh and let you lean against him, made your dreary days brighter and was well read and well educated.

You had both found yourself debating philosophical questions for hours with him and you had danced in the warm rain as summer began, laughing as he hopped through puddles with you, his make-up never once running.

He had made it far, far too easy to fall in love with him. 

With his sharp blood-smiles and his dark eyes and delighted grins at all the joys the world had to offer. With his danger and confident grace and the good treatment of his employees. With the way he leaned in, breath warm against the shell of your ear, as he pointed things out to you or shared secrets.

"How come the boss doesn't bother you?" the barkeeper asked you one afternoon as you waited for Quin to finish a deal and join you for another outing. "It even took me a while to be comfortable around him and he's been nothing but friendly to me from the start."

You knew what she meant, you had observed the effect Quin had on people for some time now. Quin was dangerous and you weren't fool or delusional enough to not know that. To not know that you could easily have that danger turned on you should you threaten him and his.

But it was hard to forget the way he had caught you instead of letting you fall, that he had immediately offered to take care of a perceived offense that few others would have even bothered to acknowledge. That he had covered you with a blanket and gotten you shoes and hadn't asked you to sign any of the scrolls he handed to virtually everyone else that approached him for deals.

So you just shrugged and the barkeep left it at that.

"Love, how good to see you, thank you for waiting," Quin's voice drew your attention and he approached you, easily throwing an arm over your shoulders and tucking you against his side. "Where to today? The usual place?"

You had visited the academy inn you had taken him to a couple of times since, but you shook your head. "I found a new place. Come on or we'll be late."

"Oh, we can't have that, can we?" he sounded delighted, steering you towards the door and lifting his free hand in a lazy goodbye wave to his employees. "Until later, you scoundrels, don't do anything I wouldn't do," he called out, getting laughter and some hoots in return.

Hanging out with Quin had, faster than you had expected, turned into one of your favorite things. He had an ease about him that was part of anything he did and his presence had the added benefit that no one ever bothered you if you went out with him.

It was easy to tell Quin everything and he was a great confidante. Never once had he shared your secrets with anyone else and he never judged you for anything either. He spoke less about himself, but every little thing he revealed you found yourself hoarding like a jealous dragon who managed to scrape together a few coins.

Today, to your surprise, he ended up sharing more than before. Maybe it was the play you had brought him to, one that turned him quieter and more thoughtful than anything else before.

"I know you know I'm not human, not anymore," he said quietly as he watched the lead act fall to his knees in front of a demon, hands raised in supplication. "But you never ask about it."

"In all honesty, I don't care about what you are," you answered just as quietly. "I like you the way you are."

For the first time since you got to know him, he seemed to have no idea what to say. He reached out, offering his hand and you took it readily enough. To your delighted surprise, he laced your fingers together. 

Then he brought your hand up to his lips and you found yourself unable to look away from him. From his dark eyes that began to glow ever so faintly like embers.

He brushed his lips over your knuckles. "I sold my soul to something far older than this world," he murmured, as though pressing his confession into your skin. "I never regretted it, I lead a life I very, very much enjoy after all." 

He pressed a kiss against your knuckles, lips leaving behind red smears like blood, his gaze heavy. "But ever since I got to know you, I find myself glad for my younger self's foolish recklessness. I don't think I could have ever met you otherwise."

"We would have met," you found yourself answering, quiet but sure, certain in a way you felt in the marrow of your bones. "I would have found you."

You would have crossed paths with this man and you would have seen in him what you saw now. Someone who had shaken off the shackles of society, someone who was close to you in spirit. Someone who understood you in a way so few did. Someone who had grown so very, very dear to you.

"And I would have killed for you," Quin said, brushing one more confession against your knuckles before he let your combined hands sink down to the arm of his chair. "I hope you know that I would promise you what I promised this ancient thing years ago if I could."

You hadn't dared to hope, not when you had worried, just a little, that Quin didn't quite feel for you what you felt for him. But now your heart leaped high and soared and a happy grin appeared on your face. "I know now."

He smiled back at you and while you knew his smiles would never be soft and adoring the way you had seen other men smile at their lovers, you didn't want them to be. You liked his danger and his sharp teeth and the way he at times seemed two steps away from going unhinged.

Quin said nothing else for the rest of the performance, but neither did either of you let go of the other's hand. He held it all the way to the carriage, where he offered another of his playfully exaggerated bows while he held open the door.

You set a foot inside, only to lean over and brush a kiss against his cheek. "I had fun tonight."

"I think that's my line," he teased, looking up at you for once. "I'll take you out next time, how does that sound?"

"I look forward to it," you said and he let go of your hand, silver earrings reflecting the light as they swung softly when he closed the door.

He once again waited on the sidewalk as the carriage carried you away and you waved at him, watching him laugh and sketch another bow. The moment he was out of view, his words seeped back into your mind.

You mulled them over for days and slowly, bit by bit, you managed to tease more information out of Quin when you saw him. He never told you what sort of deal he made or with what being, but that was alright. You had access to a library after all and there was an old occultist that frequently visited the Revelry.

It was easy enough to intercept him one night and pull him aside while Quin was busy making deals. You got the man drunk enough to loosen his tongue and since he knew you and Quin were close, he seemed to have come to the assumption that you knew more than most.

You didn't, Quin had kept you firmly away from the sort of things he dealt with, but that assumption worked well in your favor.

Quin and you went on more outings together and despite his usual unafraid and near greedy claiming of the things he wanted, he hadn't done much more than share chaste kisses with you.

He was very content to take things at your pace and you found that incredibly charming, but you were ready to go further. So the next time you visited him, you leaned in and kissed him, deepening the kiss as he leaned against the bar, patrons and employees alike hooting and hollering as he returned the kiss eagerly.

"I think it's time we take this a little further," you whispered against his lips, knowing yours were stained blood red right now.

He was grinning, eyes glowing faintly when you separated. "Oh, love," he murmured in that low voice that seemed to rumble in the air itself. "You can have me as much as you like."

He kissed you breathless and took you dancing until you felt like your heart had soaked up enough joy and love to grow wings and take flight, the two of you never separating for long. 

The next night you kissed him deeply once more and he led you through a night of delight, leaving you gasping and breathless and grinning as wildly as he did.

"Why didn't you ask for a normal deal when you met me?" you asked him that night when you were half asleep in bed with him, his hand tracing shapes across your back. "What was it that I gave you?"

He was quiet for long enough that you were almost fully asleep when he answered, quiet like it was an important secret, "You gave me trust in a way no one had in far, far too long."

You fell asleep with a smile while he pressed a kiss to the top of your head.

You loved him more than ever and when your parents brought up the topic of marriage again a couple of days later, you firmly told them you had chosen your own partner this time. You were done with catering to their desires and wishes. Never again would you let them control your future like they once had.

Especially when, instead, you could spend it with Quin and the Revelry.

It took you another couple of weeks, summer fading to cold autumn, until you at last had everything ready.

A day later, on his birthday, you tumbled Quin into bed while laughter drifted up from the tavern a floor below. Laughter was caught between your lips as you kissed and he made you sing in the best of ways, curling around you afterwards, sated and delighted.

You were reasonably certain that Quin needed next to no sleep, considering that a hunter had once mentioned that he only went to his rooms to read or when you were with him. He did sleep around you, or at least something like it. He always was a little too still when he did it, his breathing just a bit too deep to be normal, his heartbeat that unsettling extra second too slow.

You waited until he grew still and deep and slow and then you snuck out of bed, slow and careful. He didn't wake, not when you pulled pouches from your pockets. Not when you drew in chalk on his floor, not when you set up candles and lit them and not when you approached him with the dagger, metal etched with symbols that made no sense to you, but you knew were correct.

He didn't even wake when you carefully pricked the tip of one finger, letting a single drip of blood fall onto the blade. That one drop swiftly filled all the carved in grooves and lines and now came the thing that had taken the longest to obtain.

It had taken you days to find people even willing to hear you out, never mind go on the sort of dangerous trip you needed to send them on. 

But a group of slightly wild-eyed, hungry adventurers had taken you upon the offer and they had, after weeks, delivered. Bruised, blooded and broken but victorious, grins wilder than ever and their hunger sated. For now.

The heart looked unexpectedly small, barely bigger than half your palm, but it beat still and it was as black as tar. The last tether the ancient horror had to this world.

You placed it in the middle of the circle, Quin still deeply asleep on the bed. His mind was most likely at another place, maybe he was even with this ancient thing, listening to its demands for souls and years and emotions and whatever else he fed it. It was powerful, no doubt, but you also knew Quin was the only reason it got to eat at all.

He was the only one who had a contract with it, the first and only one in centuries who had stumbled across a half sunken tomb and had figured out enough of the symbols to cobble together a ritual. Even his hunters were only an extension of his deal with the old horror he had found.

He hadn't quite understood what he had done, what he had summoned and bound himself to, but he had whole-heartedly accepted it all the same. Unafraid as he was in everything.

There was no undoing what had been done to him, the occultist had been firm about that when you had asked. Quin had given up his humanity and reversing that would be his end. His soul and body and mind had changed too much already. Furthermore, he liked himself like this. 

He didn't want to change, even if he wished he could be free of the contract.

His body bowed like a man possessed when you pierced the heart and a noiseless shriek echoed through the room. It wasn't sound but instead pressure, making the very air itself vibrate, floorboards groaned and walls cracked, windows rattled and shattered and for a second you thought you yourself would break too.

Your bones seemed to try to shrink smaller, your mind feeling like it got squeezed from all sides as fury slammed into you, your ears popping painfully. Fury and fear.

It was that last emotion, that gave you the strength to grip the dagger with both hands and twist it, rending the small, black heart in two.

It was like an outward explosion, as though something as big as a continent exhaled it's least breath forcefully, desperate as it lost its grip on life. The walls and floor cracked to the point where you half expected them to cave and crumble and all at once the candles were extinguished.

In the light from the full moon outside you watched the black heart turn to dust and then it got blown away by a faint breeze until nothing was left.

"What?" Quin's gasping inhale drew your attention and you realized you were shaking and sweating and feeling unnaturally cold.

He sat up in bed, eyes glowing like an entire fireplace full of embers. "Love," he said and his voice rumbled through the air, heavy with new power. "What did you do?"

"Happy birthday," you answered, slightly breathless. "Do you like my present?"

He scrambled out of bed, suddenly frantic and graceless in a way he never, ever was. His knees hit the ground and his hands cupped your face, glowing eyes roving over your face like he had never seen it before. Had never seen you like this before.

"You killed an old god for me," he whispered, his voice on the verge something reverent and awed as he gave off an air of power so much deeper and larger that his previous presence would have looked pitiful in comparison.

"You wanted to be free, right?" you asked quietly and when you smiled at him, you knew you still had his blood-red lipstick on your lips from kissing him previously. You knew it was dark enough with only moonlight in the room that it must've looked like real blood.

He laughed and it was half relief and half astonishment and then he was kissing you, fiercer and deeper than ever before. It felt like he was trying to pour the power you had gifted him into you, filling your veins the way you had filled his.

"I devote myself to you," he said breathlessly between kisses, each one as fierce and consuming and gifting as the last. "My soul, in light and darkness, shall be yours until my dying day."

You could only kiss back just as fiercely, gripping his hips and pulling him closer as he climbed into your lap, leaning over you and kissing you and kissing you until you felt drunk on it and his power.

"Move in with me," he whispered against your lips. "You're already a part of this place. The Revelry loves you. I love you."

"Let's adopt a cat," you whispered back and he laughed, sounding half delirious and delighted enough that it wouldn't have surprised you to hear him shout from the rooftops in a moment.

"A beautiful idea," he said, eyes glowing and blood-red grin just as dangerous as ever, his teeth looking even sharper than before. "I love you."

You couldn't help but grin back. "Neat."

He laughed, wild and free, wrapping his arms tightly around you and swaying back and forth a bit, his weight heavy and grounding and warm in your lap until the last of the unnatural chill was chased from your bones. 

Then he held and kissed you until he got his newly gained power under control and someone knocked on the door.

It were his hunters and for the first time they had taken off their masks, glowing eyes staring at the two of you with barely contained hope and wonder.

"We're free," Quin said, still in your lap and his grin was delightfully wild and on the edge of unhinged. "You are free to stay or go and never again will you be trapped in a contract."

It didn't surprise you when they stayed, fists pressed over hearts and fealty offered but not demanded. Given, not owned. 

"Marevlous," Quin said when they left again, pressing kisses against your face, leaving smears of blood red behind. "Precious, crafty, devious, mine."

You gripped his hips. "And you're mine."

"Until the end of time," he promised, hands still cradling your face and he pressed your foreheads together. His voice grew quieter, intense, a promise he would have never given that old god, no matter its demands, "For this life and all that follow, until this world crumbles to dust and all the stars have died."

A promise better than any wedding vow you could have asked for. "In each one I will find you," you answered his promise, feeling him press even closer, heat and weight and danger and power. "My soul will always recognize yours."

"Thank you," he whispered, thumbs brushing over your cheeks. "Thank you, for this gift and for trusting me when you met me. For never shying from me when others didn't even dare to look me in the eye. For giving me everything I ever wanted. For loving me."

You smiled and hugged him back tightly. He already knew that he had given you everything you could have asked for the night he killed for you. All without asking for anything. Without ever taking anything from you.

He had set you free from more than a lethal marriage contract. And now that he had shucked his shackles to an old god, now that he was free and still very much not human, you felt like everything was complete.

You couldn't wait to get that cat and to wake up to love and blood-red smiles for the rest of your life.

[rawliverandgoronspice]

Gantober #4 - Seafoam

(Wind Waker, Ganondorf & Beedle, non-graphic violence)

Tearing himself off a broken seal, Ganondorf discovers his homeland disfigured by an endless sea —and a stranger calling it home willing to help.

(Full disclosure: I'm flying off the seat of me poorly remembering my decade-old Wind Waker walkthrough and details gleaned back on vague research I did over a year ago, so I do apologize for any dubiously canon choices made here)

---

Ganondorf had waged wars larger than the sky. He had crushed skulls under his boot as an afterthought. He had basked in roaring infernos, found comfort in the musk of old blood. Even his own torment, either while sealed beyond reality or when his body had twisted to unnatural shapes from his restless abuse of Power, he had grown to rely upon as something expected —and therefore, under his control.

But there he stood, stranded on a mere constellation of sand in the middle of the night, staring on and on at the black sea surrounding him from all sides.

And nothing seemed to stomp his rising horror.

Salt. He didn’t mind salt, usually. Here, it was dizzying. A wound in the earth. A wound where Hyrule —his Hyrule— used to be. Water had swallowed all of it. In the darkest depths of the sea, there lied his castle, his hard-earned victories, the villages he sacked and those erected in their place by the monsters serving him. He may have broken the seal forced upon him, but his entire life slumbered down the abyss. For how long did he drift, outside of time and space? There was nothing left but salt. Angry froth surrounding him from all sides. The Goddesses did not care for what they once called holy. What was there even to yearn for anymore, beyond wreckage and mud?

The infernos had all drowned. Even he was now drenched and cold; his ageless bones incapable of resisting neither the waves or the rain.

He did not notice the boat that beached nearby until it was too late, and it took its sailor two attempts to finally catch his attention.

“All good sir?”

Ganondorf tore his eyes from the shore. The man who screamed at him from the deck was a stickbug of a hylian, with a horrendous bowl cut and a drooping pink nose. His sunkissed, freckled skin shivered under the tremors of a coming storm, but still: he smiled, with concern. “Not to assume nothin’, but it’s a sad old place to be shipwrecked if you ask me!”

Hands on hips, face open, eager to help. Obviously clueless as to who he was.

Nobody had stared at Ganondorf that way in hundreds of years.

He considered killing the straggler and taking his embarkation for himself. Faster, easier. But of all the many skills the gerudo king had perfected during his unnaturally long life, sailing had never even crossed his mind as something worth his attention. And the thought of trying to keep this poorly wielded rotting wood afloat in a storm, hands coarse with ropes he couldn’t make sense of above miles upon miles of this terrible salt water that wanted him back in the dark... A sharp pang of hatred seared down his throat. The Goddesses must be finding his predicament oh so hilarious.

The stranger, named Beedle, made what room he could for him on his bark; but said bark was tiny, and Ganondorf could only fit against the wall of the inner cabin, stuck between crates of food and heaps of arrows. A ceiling lamp swung above his head followed by a swarm of eager moths, threatening to set his forehead on fire. The hylian’s sunny disposition dimmed somewhat after Ganondorf’s pointed silence and lack of outward thanks for all this effort, but he still refused to let it die entirely and carried the conversation for them both.

“Hoping my humble abode can be a welcome shelter for the time being, my good sir.” Good sir. Ganondorf bit his tongue not to emote. “Please don’t be shy around my wares as well! If something catches your eye, I’m sure we can agree to somethin’ or another!” The hylian’s eye nicked at his jewelry, barely attempting to be subtle. “It’s rare to see folks as fancy as you in these parts. It’s the pirates, you see. I suppose it’s them who gave you trouble?”

Ganondorf evaded the too-intense gaze of the merchant. Of course, in this sparse flooded world, information would be as precious as rupees. He elected to be as greedy as he could in this particular department.

“I simply… got lost,” he muttered.

His voice was rough, ancient, looming. He didn’t sound like the way he remembered. The small hylian tensed and nodded, with a frown deep enough to suggest he was growing less worried about his guest and more about himself. Thunder crashed outside. A large wave rolled under the planks at their feet; the boat croaked, almost organically. Ganondorf shivered.

“Welp. Happens to the best of us I guess!” The owner scratched his bare stomach, his best efforts at joy dipping into nervousness. “Where are you going then? I can drop you off to any place that’s on my usual route!”

Ganondorf clenched his jaw. He had no good answer to this question. He didn’t know anything about this strange new world. Didn’t recognize anything. Where were they, right now? Above which landmark he could still perfectly recall in his mind, lively and luscious, sprawling under the indulgent sun of Hyrule?

“I… I don’t…”

He caught himself, this disgusting vulnerability in that shredded voice, before it could spill out fully. Anger smothered him instead; then something more painful, akin to the jagged cuts of weapons somehow lodged even deeper than flesh. He thought of gutting the pleasant man, right here and now. Take him apart limb from limb among all these goods and produce Ganondorf had never seen before. But the storm raged outside —and to be stuck there, in this claustrophobic cabin, waiting to be toppled over and drowned once again…

“Y-You know what?” Beedle proposed, hands joined, helpful in a way that neared pity. “I can take you to Windfall Island! It’s the biggest port around, and I’m sure you’ll find someone there who can help you out. You seem a little…” He swallowed. “A little... out of it, sir.”

His skin crawled. That idiot would strand him on an island full of hylians, chipper and knowledgeable and unbearably alive.

“No,” Ganondorf grunted. “Take me… Take me somewhere quiet, and near. Someplace with solid land.”

The hylian cocked his head.

“I’m not quite sure about that plan, sir. There’s a Fortress close-by, sir, I’m sure you’ve heard of it. The waters are full of pirates. It’s not safe here! They’d capture you in a heartbeat, and oh!” The poor little man deflated, rubbing his bare arms, as if to ward off his own imagination. “They’d have ways to make you spill where the rest of your fancy gold is hidden, sir!”

Ganondorf couldn’t help his snickering. His right hand burned quietly under the full length of his sleeves. “A fortress, you say?”

“Horrible place! Dreadful place! They’ve stolen from me before, the vultures!”

“Take me there.”

Beedle’s eyes and mouth drew the shape of three perfect circles.

“Sir!” He squealed, red with offense. “No amount of rupee in the world could convince me to go there! I’ll never risk my wares, my very life…”

“Where I come from, merchants know to take risks when it matters,” Ganondorf said. And that much was true. Gerudo merchants had saved his kingdom countless times over before he was old enough to wield a sword himself. Not all of them returned home alive.

“And why on earth would it matter to me?!” Beedle crossed his arms, outraged. “They’ll shot my poor boat on sight! So whatever you could offer me in exchange…”

“You’re assuming I will let you refuse.”

Silence, if not for the roar of the sea.

The hylian’s eyes were large and misty, his knees threatening to give. “Sir…” He wailed, crumbling on himself, even tinier than before. “I rescued you.”

“And I am not ungrateful,” Ganondorf smiled. “Yet.”

¤

The merchant sniffled and muttered under his breath the entire way, but it didn’t take much more than a few hours for Ganondorf to see the silhouette of a large structure overtaking the stormy horizon. Beedle tried not to cry as he slalomed through the coves and razor-sharp stones, knowing himself watched, both by his guest and the pirates outside surely well aware of their presence. Ganondorf considered telling him they would be safe from cannon fire no matter what, but decided to keep his magical prowess undisclosed for as long as he could. He simply didn’t know enough about the rules of this new world to fashion a reputation for himself yet. Dreadful outcasts with a penchant for knives and thievery, however? A consequence-less trying ground.

An anchor, in so many ways.

They weren’t prevented from boarding the pier, but were awaited right outside. The vicious wind swashed buckets of sea water over a collection of armed silhouettes, staring at the humble bark with open distrust and slight bafflement. Ganondorf eyed over each of them. About twenty, that he could see. All of them with pointy ears, safe for the two gorons in the back. Brown hair, blonde hair, white hair.

All of them men.

Ganondorf refused to give room to the childish hope within withering into something cold and empty, and advanced towards the line. Beedle made a whimpering sound behind him.

“That’s close enough I’d say.”

A man cut through the pirates and stepped forth. The bulky kind, bald-headed and scarred, with one golden tooth sharpened far past what most would think reasonable. He towered over his crew, but barely reached Ganondorf’s shoulder. He nodded towards the cowering merchant behind his back.

“Must have given that lad his weight in rupees to convince him to sail here. We have history, don’t we Beedle?”

The crew laughed, and the poor hylian was but half a breath from sobbing openly.

“I hear you’re the terror of the sea,” Ganondorf noted.

The man puffed his chest. “Aye we are. So what made you think it was a good idea to come check for yourself? Want to donate to the cause?” Every pirate openly eyed at the large jewels adorning his fine robes. Gerudo craftsmanship had always stirred outsiders’ imagination, even back when cultural context hadn’t been completely lost to the waves.

Ganondorf crossed his arms. “I suppose it depends on the cause.”

The pirate chief laughed, a bit too loud to be believable as effortless contempt. His stance was ever-slightly defensive. Ganondorf was being seized up, and correctly identified as a threat.

“Our cause?! Get richer than the lost kingdom through other people’s honest work! I didn’t think it would need clarification!” Another step closer, one that felt like bravado. The man held up an open palm that missed half a finger. “So how are you willing to contribute?”

Ganondorf didn’t bother moving. He stared deep into the washed-out green eyes of the pathetically wet hylian in front of him. Small threats. Threats of no ambition. This was all the Goddesses could handle, and not a single thing worse: mediocre hylians, content with their lackluster lot, fearlessly cruel in the pettiest of ways.

He shook his head, giving the surroundings a good look instead of paying the captain undeserved attention. Crows cackled above their head, and bigger birds seems to nest in the cliffs. Hard to navigate, tall and angry, strong against the storm, unpleasant to be around.

Suitable.

“I quite enjoy this island,” Ganondorf declared at last. “As for you, terror of the sea… You can all stay here and serve my cause, or you can take your leave right away.”

Some man in the back thought it was a joke and laughed; but the humor died down soon enough. Exclamations bubbled through the assembled crew like a fit of bad coughs, growing in intensity. Beedle hid his face in his hands, terrified, and muttered a prayer.

“What did you say?!” The captain belched out. “Are you out of your mind—who the hell do you think you are?!”

A younger version of himself would have used the opportunity to brag, just to feel the kick of his own resolve; a promise muttered back to himself. But Ganondorf was far past reassurance now.

“Or you can all watch each other die if you prefer,” Ganondorf added, with the familiar coldness that preceded his worst slaughters.

That was too much for the poor merchant. Abandoning all reason, the little hylian skedaddled back to his boat with a high pitch sound of distress. Smart move. The pirates were all focused on the actual danger, and Ganondorf would have disliked letting a survivor bear witness to the worst of what he could do. Now was not the time. And, after all, he had no reason to be ungrateful and needlessly destructive. Not everything had to end up in blood, he supposed. Violence was a lesson he’d have to unlearn soon if we was to re-adapt to this new, brutal reality.

But as of now…

“We’ll knock some sense back into you, old man!” the man spat out—old man? Ganondorf wasn’t sure he appreciated being perceived as frail and weary; those feelings were supposed to be private. But the captain didn’t seem to realize his overstep and unsheathed a crude saber to his face. “Everyone with me!”

They all attacked at once, swords drawn and eager.

Ganondorf grinned. Twin blades slotted into his waiting hands.

That simple joy, of all joys dead and gone, the Goddesses had yet to take from him.

¤

The slaughter was over before it started. The pirates were even worse off than he feared. None of them would have survived the wars he had waged centuries prior. In this barren world of salt and greedy water, plunderers were weak and arrogant, and lonely travelers trusted so easily. The deluge didn’t even select the worthiest to carry on this accursed future.

Leaning from the highest balcony he could find, Ganondorf stared at a much quieter sea. Dawn brushed over the crests of wave in pinks and golds and green. Seagulls, crows and even angrier birds screamed their delight in the fierce offshore wind. Far in the distance, he could distinguish the shape of Beedle’s bark, fast escaping the trail of blood left behind. Ganondorf was taken by a vague need to acknowledge what this man had done for him, this thankless mercy drenched in unfair retribution. Do something just, perhaps. Sort the stolen goods and restore what once belonged to him. Make his effort worth something... but already, so soon, the little dot tipped over the foam and disappeared from view entirely.

The waves covered its tracks, and Ganondorf was alone.

He closed his eyes, allowing the sun to trick him into unguarded longing. But that couldn’t last. He couldn’t afford rest. He couldn’t afford peace. This was how the Goddesses had lured everyone else into accepting this; the smallness of letting oneself drift; an existence happily unmoored. That wasteland. That living wound they all called home.

Ganondorf turned away from the horizon, the sun, the wind, runaway boats with small cargo and far greater fears. The Triforce of Power scorched his blood-splattered hand. Ganondorf focused on the pain until it devoured everything else; and then, only then, could he start to think with regained dignity about the arduous path to triumph.

[cyberhai]

The 2021 MK movie is so much more enjoyable when you don't have a little demon in your ear screaming about why it sucked