#to wish for his beloved father's peace and happiness

[llondonfog]

What if I just died twst, what then

[hpdfag]

feel like im getting stabbed in the chest every time i think about him. is this even what love is supposed to feel like

[shaevilux]

People knock on Rhoam for being a bad dad cuz he's distant and stern to little Zelda and say how Rauru is the goat (heh) for taking her in like his own daughter. Like Zelda had her real parental connection with Sonia and Rauru. But frankly that's a little reductive.

Rauru literally descended from the heavens, married a priest, started a kingdom. Man didn't really know much strife yet. There's no looming threat of calamity or prophecy yet. Things are peaceful. Things are fine. Things are great. Zelda dropped in during this time, talking about a doom that's going to happen tens of thousands of years in the future.

This sad, lost princess.

Of course any reasonable person would take her in and calm her and tell her she is fine and listen and support her.

Rhoam not being able to be this kind of figure for Zelda is tragic. Just read this poor man's journal entries:

"It has been a year and three months since her mother passed. Perhaps she is held back by heartache too deep to heal. If the Ganon prophecy wasn't looming over our heads, I would tell her to take her time... To wait until she is ready. But our situation is dire and leaves no room for weakness—even on behalf of my beloved daughter. My heart breaks for Zelda, but I must act as a king, not a father. I must order her to train relentlessly at the fountain." Pg 4.

"In truth, I understand Zelda's feelings. Painfully so. She lost her mother, her teacher, before she could learn from her. Ten pointless years of self-training, without so much as a book or note to help her find her way... Those in the castle talk behind her back. And I, her only family, scold her for her shortcomings. No wonder she wishes to hide away in her beloved relic research. I'd love nothing more than to console her... But I must stay strong. She MUST fulfill her duty, just as we all must. Even if she comes to despise me." Pg 6.

"I have been told my Zelda went to the Spring of Wisdom... This will likely be her last chance. If she is unable to awaken her power at Lanayru, all hope is truly lost. If she comes back without success, then I shall speak kindly with her. Scolding is pointless now. I forced 10 years of training on her... and after all that, it seems her power will stubbornly awaken some other way. Perhaps I should encourage her to keep researching her beloved relics. They may just lead her to answers I can't provide. For now, I sit anxiously, more a father than a king in this moment. I sit and await my daughter's return." Pg 7. (He fucking dies and never gives Zelda this bit of closure uuuugggghhhhhhh Zelda I'm so sorry Rhoam I'm so sorry)

It sucks because most people remember the cutscenes (duh it's more immersive and important) and in the cutscenes of the first game Rhoam was mostly shown as being stern and mean to babygirl Zelda, who is closed fists explaining herself to him at the verge of tears. And in contrast everyone in the first royal family of hyrule in the second game treated her with such kindness and we can see how happy she was being there with them.

Rhoam was shackled by duty. By prophecy. By the looming calamity. And from the day he named his daughter 'Zelda' he shackled her as well.

And what does Zelda do with these shackles? She accepts them. She tolerates them. Because she loves her father and her kingdom and knows there's a power dormant in her that can stop the calamity that she must do her best to unlock. She does this dutifully. She does all the training, she does everything that is required.

But it still doesn't unlock. So she tries other ways. She isn't just going after the 'relics' because she's scholarly and nerdy and wants to learn about them. She does it because she's pragmatic. She knows her sacred sealing power isn't present in her. She knows she might not be able to control it or even unlock it in time.

So she tries this alternative approach. The Divine Beasts, the guardians. Ancient tech that was used to prevent the calamity of their time. And she awakened the tech. And her father chose the champions for each divine beast. And they were all prepared. And it's all thanks to Zelda.

And then... Fucking tragedy again. Ganon probably learned his lesson from the last time he was thwarted and immediately went for the tech, corrupting it and turning it against the new users. Against Zelda.

It's never really stated how fast it all turned to shit when the tech betrayed them (or maybe I don't remember) but every account points to it being almost overnight. The champions died. Rhoam died. And suddenly, suddenly Zelda unlocks her sealing magic.

I always always hate the literary trope of using tragedy to unlock a great power that could've actually stopped the tragedy from happening in the first place.

And it's no different in BOTW. I hate that Zelda had to go through all this to unlock her powers.

And then what happens next?

She's stuck in limbo (in an almost mocking parallel to Rauru in the next game with his imprisoning arm) holding Ganon back. For a hundred years.

This young woman had gone through so much only to be trapped with a calamity seeking to destroy Hyrule for a century.

Does she know her father died in the war? Does she know the champions died in battle? Would she know Link would survive in the Shrine of Resurrection? Would she know how long it would all take? The century she would have to wait?

I think she didn't. I think it all happened too fast. I think ultimately, she decided a stalemate with ganon was an agreeable outcome. I think in her mind she probably thought she failed Hyrule. When the divine beasts turned she must have been distraught. Distraught might not even cover it tbh. But at least... At least when the kingdom was brought to it's knees by the corrupted tech and was waiting for the final blow, she had the ability to ensure the final blow never came.

And oh boy I have a looot more to talk about regarding Tears of the Kingdom. But I do want to have a couple of more playthroughs of it to really formulate what I want to say.

[amethystarachnid]

Hey! I wanted to request Loki x reader fanfic. Can it be arranged marriage with slow burn au where the reader is a princess of a small kingdom who never thought she'd be marrying into a higher kingdom let alone Asgard. So is surprised when is betrothed to loki. She tried to give him benifit of doubt but we'll he acts like an ass and she decides to give it to him back equally. They both banter and throw sarcastic jibes during the courting period and after the marriage but over time they become friends and then lovers. Maybe She calls odin out on his bullshit and bias towards thor, and all the fun family dynamics with frigga and thor.

Thank you! And wishing you a happy new year!✨🍀

THE ROYAL LOVERS

⤷ LOKY LAUFEYSON

ᯓ★ Pairing: Loki Laufeyson x fem!reader

ᯓ★ Genre: romance, some angst and some fluff

ᯓ★ Requests status: open (only by asks)

ᯓ★ Story type: one shot

ᯓ★ Word count: 11k (I dont think I can make it more slow burn than this lol)

ᯓ★ Summary: just what the ask said

ᯓ★ TW(s): nothing I think

ᯓ★ My Masterlist

ᯓ★ MARVEL Holiday Special

ᯓ★ MARVEL Multiverse - choose an AU, pair it with your favorite character and make a request!

ᯓ★ Songs & Superheroes tales - The Game (to make a request, follow the rules on the link!)

ᯓ★ MARVEL Bingo

ᯓ★ English isn’t my first language

You sit in the grand hall of your father’s castle, the sunlight streaming through the stained glass windows, casting kaleidoscopic patterns on the cold marble floors. The room feels heavier than usual, the weight of your father’s words pressing down on your chest. Betrothed. You turn the word over in your mind, trying to make sense of it, trying to figure out how this has become your reality.

“To one of Asgard’s princes?” you repeat, unable to mask the disbelief in your tone.

Your father nods, his expression grave yet tinged with pride. “Yes, daughter. This alliance is a great honor for our kingdom. A union with Asgard strengthens our position, ensures our prosperity, and secures peace for generations to come.”

Peace. Prosperity. You’ve heard these words countless times before, always in speeches or during court gatherings when foreign diplomats visit. Now they’re being used as the justification for altering the course of your entire life.

You swallow hard. “And which prince?”

A pause stretches between you, long enough for your heart to skip several anxious beats. Your father finally answers, his voice calm, though his eyes betray some unease. “Prince Loki.”

The name settles over you like a shadow. You’ve heard stories of Asgard, of its golden spires and indomitable warriors. Tales of its princes, too—Thor, the golden-haired god of thunder, beloved by all, and Loki, the sharp-tongued trickster whose reputation is far more ambiguous.

You straighten in your chair, forcing yourself to remain composed despite the storm building inside you. “I see. And when am I to meet this... prince?”

“Soon,” your father says. “King Odin and Queen Frigga have agreed to host a meeting at their palace. You will accompany me to Asgard in three days' time.”

Three days. That’s all the time you have to prepare yourself for the encounter that will determine your future. You nod stiffly and rise from your seat, excusing yourself from the conversation.

Once you’re alone in your chambers, the weight of it all crashes down on you. You pace the room, the rich fabrics of your dress swishing around your legs, your mind racing. Betrothed to a prince of Asgard. It sounds like something out of a storybook, but you’re no naïve dreamer. You know enough to understand the realities of political alliances.

Still, you can’t help but wonder: why would Asgard—a kingdom so vast and powerful it dwarfs your own—be interested in such a union?

Three days later, you stand before the shimmering Bifrost Bridge, its prismatic light almost blinding. The sight of it steals your breath, though you quickly compose yourself as the Asgardian guards usher you and your father toward the grand palace that looms in the distance.

The palace is even more magnificent than the stories described, its golden towers piercing the sky, its halls adorned with treasures from realms beyond your imagination.

You feel small here, insignificant. But you refuse to let it show.

In the throne room, King Odin sits atop his gilded seat, his presence commanding, even intimidating. Beside him stands Queen Frigga, her beauty and poise as striking as the rumors claimed. The sight of her eases your nerves slightly; she seems kind, her gentle smile a stark contrast to the stern expressions of her husband and the guards flanking the room.

And then you see him.

Prince Loki.

He stands a step behind his parents, dressed in sleek black and green, the golden accents of his attire catching the light. His dark hair is neatly combed back, his pale features sharp and angular. There’s an air of arrogance about him, a cool detachment that only adds to his enigmatic aura.

Your father bows, and you quickly follow suit, keeping your gaze fixed on the floor.

��Your Majesties,” your father begins, his voice steady. “It is an honor to stand before you. I thank you for welcoming us into your home.”

Odin nods curtly, his single eye fixed on your father. “We are pleased to have you here. This alliance is of great importance to both our realms.”

Frigga steps forward, her smile warm. “And you must be the princess,” she says, addressing you directly.

You lift your head, meeting her gaze. “Yes, Your Majesty. It is a privilege to be here.”

Frigga’s smile widens, and for a moment, you feel at ease. But the feeling is short-lived as you catch Loki’s gaze. He’s watching you, his expression unreadable.

“Loki,” Odin says, gesturing toward you. “This is the princess, your betrothed.”

The words hang in the air like a thunderclap. Loki’s lips curl into a faint, almost dismissive smirk. He inclines his head slightly but says nothing.

You suppress the urge to bristle. Fine, you think. If he’s going to be curt, so be it.

Frigga notices the tension and steps in, her voice soothing. “Why don’t the two of you take a moment to speak privately? Get to know one another.”

Your father nods in agreement. “An excellent idea.”

Before you can protest, you’re being led to a nearby chamber, Loki following behind you at a leisurely pace. Once the door closes, you turn to face him, your hands clasped tightly in front of you.

For a moment, neither of you speaks. The silence is thick, uncomfortable.

“So,” you begin, forcing yourself to sound calm. “It seems we are to be married.”

Loki leans against the nearest wall, his arms crossed over his chest. “Indeed. Though I must admit, I find the arrangement rather curious.”

You raise an eyebrow. “Curious? In what way?”

He shrugs, his tone casual but laced with condescension. “Our kingdoms are not exactly equals. One might wonder what my father hopes to gain from such a union.”

The words sting, but you refuse to let him see it. Instead, you smile sweetly, matching his tone. “Perhaps he hopes I’ll teach you some manners.”

Loki’s eyes narrow slightly, a flicker of surprise crossing his face before he regains his composure. “Manners? How quaint. I wasn’t aware my betrothed was a tutor.”

You take a step closer, meeting his gaze head-on. “And I wasn’t aware mine was a child.”

His smirk falters, and for a moment, you think you’ve won. But then he chuckles, low and amused. “You have spirit, I’ll give you that. It’s almost endearing.”

“Almost?” you echo, tilting your head. “I’ll take that as a compliment, though I doubt you intended it as one.”

Loki studies you for a moment, his green eyes piercing. “You’re not what I expected.”

“And neither are you,” you reply, refusing to look away.

The tension in the room is palpable, an unspoken challenge hanging between you. Finally, Loki straightens, his expression unreadable once more.

“This should be interesting,” he says, his voice quiet but carrying an edge.

You don’t respond, watching as he strides toward the door and leaves without another word.

When you return to the throne room, Frigga gives you a knowing look, as if she can sense the clash of wills that just occurred.

“I trust you had a productive conversation,” she says gently.

You offer her a polite smile. “It was... enlightening.”

Loki says nothing, his expression calm but his eyes glinting with something you can’t quite place.

As the meeting concludes and you prepare to return to your chambers at Asgard for now, you can’t shake the feeling that this is only the beginning of a battle of wits and wills. And for the first time since hearing of the betrothal, you find yourself almost looking forward to the challenge.

The news spreads faster than you’d expect. Within days of the announcement, the realms are abuzz with the most unlikely engagement of the century: Loki, the so-called “trickster prince” of Asgard, and you, the princess of a modest but proud kingdom.

You learn of the reactions secondhand—your father shares reports from neighboring realms, some of which range from incredulous laughter to outright disbelief. Even within Asgard, whispers fill the air. Servants, courtiers, even the warriors of the great halls exchange furtive glances as you pass, clearly wondering how and why such a union has come to be.

You, however, have no answers for them.

Forced to stay in Asgard for the duration of your courtship, you find yourself in a whirlwind of carefully orchestrated meetings, formal dinners, and—most excruciating of all—dates.

The first one is planned with all the subtlety of a lightning bolt. Frigga herself announces it over breakfast, her tone pleasant but brooking no argument.

“The two of you will take a walk through the gardens this afternoon,” she says, her serene expression giving no indication that this is a royal decree rather than a suggestion. “It’s a lovely day, and I’m sure you’ll find the fresh air invigorating.”

Loki, seated across from you at the lavish dining table, barely looks up from his plate. “Invigorating,” he echoes dryly, his tone implying that being dragged into the sunlight is the last thing he finds appealing.

You sip your tea, determined not to let him ruin your mood. “It sounds delightful,” you say, forcing a bright smile.

When the time comes, the “walk” is as awkward as you anticipated. The gardens of Asgard are, of course, stunning, with vibrant flowers and towering trees that look as though they were sculpted by the gods themselves. But the beauty of your surroundings does little to ease the tension between you and your betrothed.

“You seem thrilled to be here,” you remark as you stroll along a cobblestone path, glancing at Loki. He walks a step ahead of you, his hands clasped behind his back and his expression neutral.

“I’m beside myself with joy,” he replies without missing a beat.

You roll your eyes. “If you hate this so much, why not just tell your parents you’re not interested? I’m sure they’ll understand.”

Loki stops, turning to face you with an arched brow. “You think I haven’t tried? My father, as you may have noticed, is not particularly accommodating when it comes to matters of ‘duty.’”

You shrug. “Neither is mine. But at least I’m trying to make the best of it.”

“Ah, yes,” Loki says, his lips curling into a smirk. “You’re positively brimming with enthusiasm. Tell me, is sarcasm a custom in your kingdom, or is it just your natural talent?”

“It’s a survival skill,” you shoot back, crossing your arms. “Particularly useful when dealing with insufferable princes.”

Loki laughs—a genuine laugh, though he quickly masks it with a cough. “Touché.”

The rest of the walk is less tense, though the banter continues. By the time you return to the palace, you’re both mildly annoyed but also—if you’re honest with yourself—mildly entertained.

The dates that follow are no less eventful.

One afternoon, you’re coerced into accompanying Loki to the library, which he claims is his “sanctuary.” You quickly learn that by “sanctuary,” he means a place where he can hide from people and indulge in his penchant for mocking their intellectual inadequacies.

“You know,” you say, trailing your fingers along the spines of ancient tomes as Loki lounges in a nearby chair, “if you put half as much effort into being pleasant as you do into being smug, you might actually be tolerable.”

“Why would I aim for tolerable when I can achieve perfection?” he counters, not looking up from his book.

You grab the nearest volume and plop it unceremoniously onto the table in front of him. “Here. Enlighten me, oh wise one.”

Loki picks up the book, glances at the title, and smirks. “A Beginner’s Guide to Asgardian History? How quaint.”

You grin, leaning on the table. “Well, I wouldn’t want to overwhelm you with anything too advanced.”

For a moment, his eyes meet yours, and you swear you see a flicker of amusement there. Then he closes the book with a theatrical sigh. “Very well. Sit, and I’ll educate you—though I can’t promise you’ll retain anything.”

By the end of the afternoon, you’ve learned more about Asgardian history than you ever thought you’d care to know. And, despite his constant teasing, Loki is an excellent teacher.

Another date—a “ride” across the Bifrost on enchanted steeds—proves to be even more chaotic.

“Have you ever ridden a horse before?” Loki asks as you mount your steed, his tone suggesting he already knows the answer.

“Of course,” you reply confidently, though your grip on the reins betrays your nerves.

As the horses take off, galloping across the shimmering bridge, you quickly realize that Asgardian steeds are not like those of your kingdom. They’re faster, stronger, and seemingly unbothered by the laws of gravity.

You let out an involuntary squeal as your horse leaps into the air, soaring above the bridge for a heart-stopping moment before landing gracefully.

Behind you, Loki laughs—an infuriating, delighted sound. “Having fun, princess?”

“Shut up!” you shout, gripping the reins tighter.

By the time the ride is over, your hair is a mess, your heart is pounding, and you’re thoroughly mortified. Loki, of course, looks as composed as ever.

“Well,” he says as you dismount, his smirk firmly in place, “that was exhilarating. Shall we go again?”

You glare at him, brushing strands of hair from your face. “Don’t push your luck.”

Despite the constant banter, you find yourself… not hating his company as much as you expected. Loki, for all his arrogance, is undeniably clever, and his sharp wit keeps you on your toes. He’s also surprisingly observant, occasionally making remarks that reveal a deeper understanding of you than you’re comfortable admitting.

For his part, Loki seems to enjoy sparring with you, though he never lets on too much. There are moments when his smirk softens, when his eyes linger on yours a little longer than necessary. But just as quickly, he retreats behind his usual façade of indifference.

The days pass, and the courtship continues, much to the amusement of the palace staff and the frustration of your parents.

“They’re impossible,” Odin mutters one evening after dinner, watching as you and Loki exchange yet another round of playful insults.

“They’re perfect for each other,” Frigga replies with a smile, her gaze warm as she watches the two of you.

Perfect. You wouldn’t go that far. But as you lie awake in your chambers that night, replaying the day’s events in your mind, you can’t deny that something about Loki intrigues you.

And though you’d never admit it, you’re starting to think that this arrangement might not be so terrible after all.

The day of your wedding looms ever closer, and Asgard hums with preparations. The golden halls are adorned with garlands of flowers, banners bearing the crests of your kingdom and Asgard hang side by side, and the palace is abuzz with activity. Servants scurry to and fro, courtiers gossip behind jeweled fans, and Frigga oversees every detail with her characteristic grace.

You, meanwhile, feel like a tightly coiled spring, caught between nervous anticipation and the persistent irritation that comes from dealing with Loki.

If the prince’s attitude was difficult before, it’s positively maddening now. You’re not sure what changed, but he’s been colder, more distant, his biting remarks sharper than usual.

One day, as you’re walking through the palace gardens, you decide to confront him.

“Alright, what’s your problem?” you demand, stepping in front of him and blocking his path.

Loki arches a brow, clearly unimpressed by your attempt to corner him. “You’ll have to be more specific, princess. I have so many.”

You cross your arms. “Don’t play coy. You’ve been acting like an even bigger ass than usual lately, and I want to know why.”

His lips curl into a smirk, but it doesn’t reach his eyes. “You flatter me with your concern.”

“I’m serious, Loki.” Your voice softens, though your gaze remains firm. “If I’ve done something to upset you, just tell me.”

For a moment, his expression falters, and you think he might actually answer you. But then his smirk returns, colder than before.

“Perhaps I’m simply preparing you for the reality of being married to me,” he says, his tone light but laced with something darker.

Your stomach twists, but you refuse to let him see how much his words sting. “Fine,” you snap. “Be an ass. See if I care.”

You storm off, leaving him standing in the garden, his hands clenched into fists at his sides.

The tension between you only worsens with the arrival of Thor.

The golden-haired prince returns from a long mission, his presence immediately commanding attention wherever he goes. Thor is everything Loki is not—open, friendly, and effortlessly charming. He greets you with a beaming smile, his blue eyes sparkling with genuine warmth.

“You must be the princess,” he says, clasping your hand in his large, calloused one. “I’ve heard so much about you.”

“Good things, I hope,” you reply, returning his smile.

“Of course!” Thor’s laughter booms through the hall, drawing the attention of everyone nearby. “I can see now why my brother is so reluctant to share his time with you. He must be afraid I’ll steal you away!”

You laugh politely, though the comment catches you off guard. Before you can respond, Loki appears at Thor’s side, his expression carefully neutral.

“Thor,” he says smoothly, his tone deceptively light. “How delightful of you to join us. I see you’ve already met my betrothed.”

“Indeed, I have!” Thor claps a hand on Loki’s shoulder, grinning. “She’s delightful. You’re a lucky man, brother.”

Loki’s smile tightens, and you swear you see his jaw clench. “Yes,” he says, his voice a touch colder. “Lucky indeed.”

From that moment on, Loki’s demeanor shifts even further. He grows colder, more distant, and his once playful banter becomes outright cutting.

During a dinner with Thor and the royal family, you find yourself on the receiving end of one of his more caustic remarks.

“Tell me, princess,” Loki drawls, leaning back in his chair. “Have you been enjoying your time here in Asgard? Or is it too overwhelming for someone from such... modest origins?”

The table falls silent, all eyes turning to you. Thor frowns, clearly disapproving of his brother’s behavior, while Frigga gives Loki a sharp look.

You take a deep breath, forcing a smile. “Oh, it’s been lovely,” you reply sweetly. “Though I must admit, the company has been a bit... mixed.”

Thor bursts out laughing, while Loki’s eyes narrow dangerously.

“Well played, princess,” he says, his voice low and icy.

The tension between you only seems to escalate as the days pass, culminating in a heated argument the night before the wedding.

“You know,” you say, standing in the middle of the grand hall where the ceremony will take place, “if you’re so miserable about this marriage, why don’t you just call it off?”

“And bring shame to both our kingdoms?” Loki replies, his voice dripping with sarcasm. “I think not.”

“Shame?” You scoff. “Oh, please. Everyone knows you don’t want this any more than I do.”

“And yet here we are,” he snaps, his eyes flashing with anger.

The argument spirals, both of you hurling insults and accusations until you’re both breathing heavily, standing far too close to each other.

For a moment, neither of you speaks. The air crackles with tension, and you half-expect Loki to say something cruel, something to end the conversation once and for all.

But he doesn’t. Instead, he steps back, his expression unreadable. “Goodnight, princess,” he says quietly, before turning on his heel and walking away.

You’re left standing alone in the empty hall, your chest tight and your mind racing.

The day of the wedding arrives, and you wake with a mixture of dread and resignation. You’re dressed in an elaborate gown, the finest your kingdom has ever produced, and escorted to the ceremony by your father and a contingent of Asgardian guards.

The hall is packed with dignitaries and guests from across the realms, their eyes fixed on you as you make your way down the aisle. At the end of it stands Loki, dressed in black and gold, his expression a perfect mask of calm.

As you approach, you search his face for any sign of emotion, any hint of the man you’ve gotten to know over the past weeks. But he gives nothing away.

The ceremony proceeds smoothly, the vows exchanged without incident. But as you stand before the gathered crowd, your hand resting in Loki’s, you can’t shake the feeling that something has shifted between you.

When the officiant finally declares you husband and wife, Loki leans in, his lips brushing your ear as he murmurs, “The games begin, princess.”

You pull back slightly, meeting his gaze with a mixture of exasperation and amusement. “Bring it on, prince.”

The crowd erupts in applause, oblivious to the battle of wills raging between the two of you.

And as Loki leads you down the aisle, his hand resting lightly on yours, you can’t help but wonder what the future holds for this strange, tempestuous union. One thing is certain: life with Loki will never be dull.

The wedding feast is a blur of golden light, laughter, and endless toasts. Your smile is painted on, your cheeks aching as guests from every realm offer their congratulations. Loki plays his part impeccably, charming the crowd with his wit and occasional glances in your direction that are just shy of affectionate.

Inside, you feel like a tightly coiled spring, wound tighter with every passing moment. You know what comes after the feast. The thought sits heavy in your chest, making it hard to breathe.

The hour grows late, and when the last of the guests have finally departed, you’re escorted to the chambers that have been prepared for you and Loki. The halls seem longer than usual, the distance to your destination stretching endlessly as your nerves build.

When you reach the door, the servants offer you both polite bows before disappearing down the corridor, leaving you and Loki alone.

He opens the door, gesturing for you to step inside. His expression is unreadable, though his usual smirk is noticeably absent.

The chambers are stunning, of course—richly furnished and illuminated by soft, flickering candlelight. But all you can focus on is the massive bed at the center of the room, its silken sheets and embroidered pillows looking more like a throne than a place to rest.

Loki closes the door behind you, and you hear the faint click of the lock.

You stand frozen in the middle of the room, your hands clasped tightly in front of you as you stare at the bed.

“Well,” Loki says after a moment, his voice breaking the tense silence. “I suppose this is the part where we consummate the marriage.”

Your stomach flips, and you force yourself to turn and look at him. “I... I know,” you manage, your voice barely above a whisper.

Loki studies you, his sharp eyes narrowing slightly. Then, to your surprise, he sighs and moves to the nearest chair, sinking into it with an almost theatrical air of exasperation.

“Let’s make one thing perfectly clear,” he says, resting his elbow on the armrest and propping his chin on his hand. “I have no intention of forcing you—or myself, for that matter—into anything tonight.”

You blink, taken aback. “What do you mean?”

“I mean,” he replies, his tone dry, “that we don’t actually have to do anything. All anyone needs to know is that we sayit happened. As long as we both stick to the story, no one will be the wiser.”

Relief floods through you, so sudden and intense that your knees nearly buckle. “You’re serious?”

“Deadly,” he says, his lips twitching into a faint smirk. “I find the idea of spending the night in awkward silence far more appealing than the alternative.”

You let out a breath you hadn’t realized you were holding, nodding quickly. “Alright. I... I agree.”

“Good.” He stands and moves to the other side of the room, unfastening his cloak and draping it over a chair. “We’ll sleep in the same bed—appearances and all that—but I promise to stay on my side. You won’t even know I’m there.”

You hesitate, glancing at the bed again. “Alright,” you say softly, your voice steadier now.

Loki changes into a loose tunic and trousers while you slip behind a screen to remove your elaborate gown and don a simple nightdress. When you emerge, he’s already lying on one side of the bed, his back to you.

You climb in cautiously, keeping to the very edge of your side. The mattress dips slightly under your weight, and you can feel the faint warmth of Loki’s presence, though you’re careful not to look at him.

The silence stretches between you, heavy but not entirely uncomfortable.

“Goodnight, princess,” Loki says after a while, his voice quiet but laced with his usual sarcasm.

“Goodnight, Loki,” you reply, your lips curving into a faint smile despite yourself.

The next morning, you’re awoken by a knock at the door. Loki groans softly, rolling onto his back but making no move to get up.

“Come in,” he calls lazily.

The door opens, and a group of servants enters, carrying trays of breakfast and fresh clothing. They’re followed by Frigga, who takes one look at the rumpled bed and your mussed hair and smiles knowingly.

“I trust you both slept well,” she says, her tone light but her eyes sharp with curiosity.

Loki sits up, running a hand through his disheveled hair and flashing her a lazy grin. “Like babes in a cradle, Mother.”

You flush, quickly busying yourself with the tea that one of the servants has placed on the bedside table.

Frigga’s gaze lingers on the two of you for a moment longer before she nods, clearly satisfied. “Good. The court will be eager to hear that the union has been properly sealed.”

You nearly choke on your tea, but Loki remains perfectly composed, raising an eyebrow at his mother. “Of course,” he says smoothly. “They needn’t worry about that.”

Frigga gives him a pointed look, then turns to leave, her skirts sweeping gracefully behind her.

When the door closes, you let out a shaky breath, your cheeks still burning.

“Well,” Loki says, leaning back against the headboard with a smirk. “That was convincing enough, wouldn’t you say?”

You glare at him, though there’s no real heat in it. “You could have warned me she’d ask.”

“And deprive myself of the pleasure of seeing you flustered?” He grins, clearly enjoying himself.

You roll your eyes, but you can’t help the small smile that tugs at your lips.

The rest of the day is a whirlwind of public appearances and well-wishes from guests and courtiers. You and Loki play your roles to perfection, standing side by side and accepting congratulations with polite smiles.

But every so often, you catch Loki’s eye, and there’s a flicker of something there—something you can’t quite define.

As the sun sets and the festivities wind down, you find yourself wondering if this strange, tentative partnership might become something more.

The passing weeks blur in a mix of royal duties, public appearances, and private moments that seem far too fleeting. You and Loki settle into an unexpected, but not unwelcome, routine. It’s not one born out of affection, nor of any deep romantic feeling—at least not on your part—but something else entirely.

It’s friendship, of sorts, though it has an edge of guardedness on both sides.

Loki is still as sarcastic as ever, his barbed words often making you want to throw a pillow at him, but there’s a subtle shift in his attitude. He doesn’t try to make you uncomfortable, nor does he push you into situations that force your discomfort. Instead, he lets the two of you share moments of quiet companionship, moments that pass without him demanding anything more than just… being together.

At times, you even catch him offering a rare, genuine smile when the two of you exchange witty banter, the edge of coldness in his eyes softening for just a moment before it’s hidden away again.

It’s those moments—small, fleeting—that make you begin to wonder if there’s more to Loki than meets the eye.

But then, every time Thor is around, Loki retreats into himself. His demeanor hardens, his eyes become colder, and the playful teasing he once directed at you disappears, replaced by something almost resembling disdain.

It’s frustrating. You had grown used to Loki’s sharp wit and dry humor, but around Thor, he becomes a stranger. It’s as though he’s a different person entirely.

It’s in those moments that you realize just how much Thor’s presence affects Loki. The way his brother’s easy charm and warmth seem to have earned him the favor of everyone around them, especially their father, Odin.

The stark contrast between the two brothers becomes painfully obvious during family dinners.

On this particular evening, you’re seated at the grand table in the palace hall, flanked by Frigga on one side and Thor on the other. Loki sits at the far end, his posture rigid and his eyes fixed on his plate. The tension between the two brothers is palpable, though it’s subtle, buried beneath layers of carefully crafted politeness.

Frigga chats lightly with Thor about his latest battle, her soft voice carrying through the room. You listen attentively, though a part of you can’t help but glance over at Loki.

You can feel the weight of his silence, the way he seems to withdraw into himself whenever Thor speaks. Loki only offers the occasional half-hearted comment, his tone distant, as if he’s not really a part of the conversation.

Frigga, ever perceptive, seems to notice as well. She glances between Loki and Thor, her expression one of quiet concern.

“Loki,” she says gently, her voice carrying the weight of unspoken understanding, “is there something you wish to add?”

Loki straightens slightly but doesn’t look up from his plate. “No, Mother. I’m simply… observing.”

You can’t help but notice the way his jaw clenches, his gaze still fixed on his food as though he’s avoiding looking anyone in the eye.

Thor, ever the optimist, tries to break the tension. “Come now, brother. Surely you have a better tale to tell than mine. You’ve always been the more… creative one when it comes to storytelling.”

Loki’s eyes flicker toward Thor, but the look he gives his brother is colder than you’ve ever seen it. There’s something there, something unspoken that hangs heavy in the air between them.

“I have no tales to tell,” Loki replies coolly, his voice flat. “Not tonight.”

The silence that follows is thick, awkward. You shift in your seat, unsure of what to say, and Frigga clears her throat, clearly attempting to shift the atmosphere.

“I’m sure Loki has many stories to share when he’s in the mood, Thor,” she says, giving her son a kind smile. “But for now, perhaps we should allow him the peace to enjoy his meal in silence.”

Thor seems to take the hint, though there’s a flicker of confusion in his eyes as he nods. “Of course, Mother.”

But you notice the way he glances at Loki one last time before he turns his attention to you. He smiles, his usual warmth returning.

“It’s good to see you again, Princess,” Thor says, his voice easy and kind. “I trust you’ve settled in well?”

You smile back, grateful for the change of subject. “Yes, thank you, Thor. Asgard has been… more than welcoming.”

Loki stays silent, his fork moving absently as he pushes food around on his plate. You try not to let your gaze linger too long on him, but it’s difficult to ignore the way he seems to withdraw further with each passing moment.

Later, after the dinner has ended and the courtiers have dispersed, you find yourself walking the halls of the palace, your thoughts a tangled mess.

Loki’s behavior continues to trouble you. It’s clear that there’s something between him and Thor, something deep and unresolved. You can sense it in the way Loki acts when his brother is near, the way he retreats inward, shutting everyone else out.

And then there’s Odin. You’ve seen it too—the way the Allfather seems to favor Thor in ways that Loki could never seem to earn. The way Odin’s praise comes effortlessly to Thor, while Loki is left in the shadows, forced to fight for every scrap of recognition.

You’ve begun to notice the small things—the way Loki’s expression shifts when Odin speaks to Thor, or how he watches them both with an almost painful intensity when they stand together.

It’s hard to ignore the dynamic between them. Loki’s desire to prove himself to his father, to gain his approval in a way that seems perpetually out of reach, is something you can’t help but empathize with.

But you don’t know how to talk about it, how to approach him without making things worse.

That night, after the dinner, you retreat to your chambers, the silence of the room settling around you like a weight. Loki is already there, seated on the edge of the bed, his back to you as he stares out the window.

The flickering light from the torch on the wall casts shadows across his face, making his expression seem distant and closed off.

You hesitate in the doorway, unsure of what to say. But the longer you stand there, the more the words seem to push their way out.

“Loki,” you begin, your voice tentative, “I know things have been… difficult lately.”

Loki doesn’t turn around, but his shoulders tense at the sound of your voice. “Difficult? You mean the constant parade of Thor’s victories and Father’s adoration?” His words are sharp, laced with bitterness.

You step further into the room, your heart aching at the venom in his tone. “I didn’t mean it like that,” you say quietly. “But I can see it, Loki. I can see how much it hurts you.”

For a long moment, there’s nothing but silence. Then, Loki sighs deeply, rubbing his temples as if trying to stave off a headache.

“I don’t need your pity,” he mutters. “I don’t need anyone’s pity.”

You take a careful step closer, your voice soft. “I’m not pitying you, Loki. I’m just… I just don’t want you to feel alone in this.”

He laughs bitterly, his shoulders shaking as he turns to face you. “You think I don’t know that? You think I don’t understand what it’s like to be cast aside, to never be good enough no matter how hard you try?”

You swallow hard, your throat tight as you look at him. “I don’t know what that’s like,” you admit, “but I know what it’s like to feel like you’re constantly trying to prove yourself to someone who doesn’t even notice.”

Loki’s gaze flickers briefly to yours, and for a moment, there’s a crack in his armor. But it’s gone almost instantly, replaced by that familiar coldness.

“I don’t need your sympathy,” he repeats, though there’s less conviction in his voice.

“I’m not offering you sympathy,” you reply firmly. “I’m just saying… if you ever want to talk about it—about anything—I’m here, Loki.”

He stares at you for a long while, his eyes unreadable. And then, with a quiet sigh, he nods once, his voice barely above a whisper. “Thank you, princess. But I’m not ready to talk about it yet.”

You nod, though your heart aches at the weight of his words.

“I’ll be here when you are,” you say softly.

Loki doesn’t answer, but the silence that falls between you is… less heavy somehow. Less lonely.

You’re not sure what the future holds for the two of you, but in that moment, you both find a small measure of peace.

And for now, that’s enough.

The days following your conversation with Loki are a strange blend of light and shadow. The weight of your words lingers in the air between you two, but there’s an undeniable shift. It’s subtle, at first—a slight softening in the way he looks at you, a rare but meaningful smile that occasionally plays at the corners of his lips.

But it’s clear, too, that there are walls around him, walls that are not easily torn down. You don’t press him further, content to let him open up in his own time, if at all.

Then, one evening, when the palace is quiet and the rest of the court is engaged in a distant gathering, Loki surprises you.

You’re walking down one of the many hallways, heading back to your chambers after a rather dull meeting with various nobles, when you hear his voice.

“Princess,” he calls softly, his voice carrying through the silence of the corridor.

You turn to find him standing a little ways down the hall, leaning against the stone wall with his arms crossed. There’s something different in his stance—less guarded, more… open, though he still holds that impenetrable air around him.

You raise an eyebrow. “Loki? What’s the matter?”

He shifts, a subtle but noticeable tension in his posture as if he's deliberating whether or not to speak. Finally, after a beat of silence, he steps toward you, his footsteps soft on the stone floor.

“I… I’ve been thinking about our conversation,” he says, his voice quieter than usual.

You give him a careful look. “What about it?”

Loki glances down, avoiding your eyes for a moment before meeting your gaze. “About my father.” His voice tightens slightly, but it’s not the usual bitterness. It’s something more raw. “You were right. I… I’ve been carrying a lot of things for a long time.”

You wait, not wanting to interrupt, giving him space to speak.

“I don’t know if I’ve ever told anyone this, but…” Loki exhales slowly, his breath shaking as if he's letting something go for the first time. “I’ve never felt like I was enough for Odin. For my father. Not in the way Thor is. Not in the way that he needs me to be.”

You step closer, drawn in by the vulnerability in his voice. “Loki…”

He shakes his head, as if frustrated with himself. “I’ve always tried to do everything he wanted. Prove myself, be the son he wanted. But it’s never been enough. Every time I think I’m close to earning his favor, Thor does something. It doesn’t even matter what. Odin just… adores him.” Loki’s words come out with a sharpness, like they’ve been pent up for years, and yet there’s an unmistakable sadness there.

You want to reach out, to comfort him, but you don’t. Not yet.

“Thor…” Loki scoffs, though it’s not with malice—more a mixture of frustration and helplessness. “He doesn’t try. He just is. And Odin… he praises him for every little thing. Meanwhile, I’m left to pick up the pieces, to try to carve out a place for myself. But nothing ever works.”

A knot forms in your chest as you listen to him. It’s impossible to ignore how deeply Loki’s words cut, how much he craves the recognition and love he feels he’ll never receive.

“I know it’s not Thor’s fault,” Loki adds, almost as an afterthought, as if the words pain him. “But sometimes, I just… I can’t help but resent him.”

There’s an ache in his voice that hits you like a physical blow, and without thinking, you step forward and place a hand on his arm.

“You don’t have to explain yourself, Loki,” you say quietly. “I can see how much this hurts you.”

His eyes soften for just a moment, a flicker of something—something like gratitude—before the walls go back up. But it’s a start.

“I know you understand,” he mutters, his gaze dropping. “It’s just… hard to admit, even to myself.”

The silence between you two stretches, but it’s not uncomfortable. It feels like a shared understanding, an unspoken bond that has formed between you.

“You don’t have to carry it alone,” you say softly, stepping back a little but keeping your eyes on him.

Loki looks at you, his expression unreadable. Then, with a small, almost imperceptible nod, he gives you a faint smile. “Thank you.”

It’s more than he’s ever said to you in any of your interactions, and it makes your heart flutter, though you don’t show it.

“Anytime, Loki,” you reply, your voice steady, though your hands are trembling ever so slightly.

The next day, Odin makes his usual rounds through the court, his presence like a weight hanging over everyone. He speaks with courtiers, listens to reports from the generals, and gives out orders. But as usual, his praise for Thor is effusive, his voice rich with admiration.

It’s when you’re walking through the hall toward the council room that you catch the conversation between Odin and Thor. They’re speaking loudly enough for you to overhear, and you can’t help but wince as Odin lauds Thor’s latest achievement.

“Thor,” Odin says, his voice full of pride, “you’ve done the kingdom proud. Truly, your battle strategies are unmatched. I’m so glad to see you take your place as the leader Asgard needs.”

Thor laughs, clearly pleased, though there’s no sign of arrogance in him. “Thank you, Father. But I couldn’t have done it without the support of my allies.”

Odin waves off the sentiment with a chuckle, his voice warm. “Your humility is one of your finest qualities, my son.”

And that’s when it hits you—how blatant the favoritism is. How obvious it is that Odin is always quick to praise Thor, but Loki, despite his brilliance, is always left in the shadows.

Your chest tightens with the unfairness of it all. You’ve heard whispers before—how Odin has always placed Thor on a pedestal, how his approval has always been out of reach for Loki.

You’ve seen it yourself, in the way Odin looks at his sons. Thor, with his easy smiles and loud boisterousness, is clearly the favored one. Loki’s quieter, more calculating nature doesn’t seem to earn him that same adoration.

And something inside you snaps.

You’ve had enough of watching Loki suffer in silence. Enough of the obvious bias that Odin so openly displays.

With a deep breath, you step forward, deliberately interrupting the conversation between father and son.

“Lord Odin,” you say, your voice steady and louder than you expect. Both Odin and Thor turn toward you, surprised by your sudden interruption.

Odin’s eyes flicker over you, but his expression remains neutral. “Princess,” he greets, his tone polite but distant. “What is it you need?”

You take a step closer, finding the courage you’ve never had before to speak your mind. “I think it’s time someone pointed out something that’s been bothering me for some time,” you say, meeting Odin’s eyes with unwavering resolve.

Thor looks at you, clearly surprised, but Odin’s expression doesn’t change.

“I’ve noticed,” you continue, “that you never seem to acknowledge your sons equally. You give Thor praise, constantly sing his virtues, while Loki…” You glance over at him, who stands with his arms crossed, looking more uncomfortable than usual. “Loki deserves the same recognition, and it’s time someone said it.”

Thor’s eyes widen at your words, and Odin’s gaze sharpens, though he doesn’t immediately respond.

“Princess, this is a matter between my sons and I,” Odin says, his tone calm but with an edge that warns you to back down.

But you don’t. “It’s a matter of fairness,” you say, your voice unshaken. “Loki is just as capable, just as brilliant, and he deserves the same respect as Thor.”

For a long moment, there’s silence, a heavy, thick silence that seems to hang in the air. Odin’s eyes study you carefully, as if deciding whether or not to chastise you.

But then, to your surprise, he lets out a slow breath. “Perhaps you are right,” he says, his voice thoughtful, though still carrying the weight of authority. “I will consider your words, Princess.”

You nod, your heart pounding in your chest as you turn to leave. You know you’ve probably made a powerful enemy, but for once, it feels worth it.

As you walk away, you can’t help but glance back at Loki, who is now watching you with a look of surprise—and something else, something softer.

Later that night, you’re in your chambers, lost in your thoughts when a quiet knock at the door pulls you from your reverie.

You open it to find Loki standing there, his usual composed demeanor in place, though there’s something different in his expression.

“Loki,” you say, surprised to see him. “What’s wrong?”

“I wanted to thank you,” he says, his voice low and sincere. “You didn’t have to do that. But you did.”

You shrug, trying to appear casual despite the flutter in your chest. “It was the right thing to do.”

“I know,” he replies, his tone soft. “But that doesn’t make it any less… meaningful.” He hesitates, then takes a step closer, his eyes meeting yours. “You’ve… you’ve done more for me today than anyone has in a long time.”

The words settle between you, and for a moment, everything is quiet.

You don’t know what to say. But somehow, it doesn’t matter. The air between you is charged, but calm, like a storm that’s waiting to break.

And then, without thinking, you step forward, closing the distance between you.

Loki’s breath catches slightly, but he doesn’t pull away. His hand brushes yours, tentative but warm, and that’s when you both understand.

You look into each other’s eyes for a moment, the words unsaid but understood, and then you kiss—softly, tenderly, as if this moment, this connection, is something you both desperately need but never quite expected.

It’s gentle, quiet, and everything in between, and for the first time in a long time, you feel as though the walls between you are starting to fall.

The day after you stood up to Odin, something subtle but undeniable changes between you and Loki. The lingering tension that had once surrounded him, the cold barrier he had erected between himself and everyone, especially you, seems to soften just slightly. He still wears that aloof mask he’s perfected over years of deflecting people’s attention, but there are moments when he looks at you differently—like he sees you, really sees you, as something more than just the princess he was supposed to marry.

But of course, Loki is Loki, and despite the small shifts, he’s still a master of maintaining distance. He keeps his emotions locked away as tightly as his wit, but you’ve begun to notice the cracks. Maybe it’s in the way he lingers a little longer when you’re together, or how he catches your gaze in passing, holding it just a little longer than necessary.

Despite the changes between you two, the world around you continues to spin, and your role as the Princess of Asgard, as Loki’s wife, only grows more public.

The next day, after an awkward breakfast with Frigga, where she kept giving you knowing looks and you were pretty sure you heard her suppressing a sigh, you find yourself walking through the gardens, trying to escape the subtle whispers of court life.

As you stroll among the flowers, you hear footsteps behind you. A familiar, booming voice calls your name.

“Princess Y/N,” Thor’s deep voice rings out, and you stop, turning to face him.

Thor looks even more like the golden child of Asgard today, his wide smile blinding and a glimmer of guilt in his eyes. “I’ve been meaning to thank you, for what you did yesterday. Defending Loki like that.”

You tilt your head, puzzled. “What do you mean?”

“I never saw it, you know?” He rubs the back of his neck sheepishly. “The way Father favors me and how much it’s hurt Loki. I’ve always thought he was… I don’t know, distant, difficult. I didn’t realize I was a part of the problem.”

You blink, a little surprised by his sincerity. You’ve never seen Thor look so humble, so… vulnerable. It’s a stark contrast to the loud, boisterous warrior he usually presents to the world. “You didn’t know?” you ask softly.

He shakes his head, his broad shoulders slumping a little. “No, not really. And I’m ashamed to admit it. But I never thought about how he might feel when all the praise I get… it takes away from what he deserves. Loki’s clever, more than anyone gives him credit for. I see it now. I see how I’ve made him feel… less.”

Your heart aches a little. There’s so much more to Thor than the world gives him credit for, and perhaps there’s more to Loki’s pain than you even realized.

“Thor,” you start, your voice a little unsure but kind. “I think you need to tell him that. He needs to hear it from you.”

Thor gives a tight nod, the look in his eyes both heavy and sincere. “I will. But… I wanted to talk to you first, because I didn’t want you to think that I… I didn’t care.” He pauses, as if weighing his next words carefully. “I know you’re in a difficult position, Y/N, especially with Loki…”

You shrug lightly. “It’s not difficult. He’s my husband, Thor. I have a duty to him, yes, but I also want to see him happy. I don’t want him to feel this way anymore, either.”

“I understand,” Thor says with a soft smile. “And I promise you, I’ll try to make things right between me and Loki. But thank you. Truly.”

He offers a warm, brotherly smile and pats you on the shoulder, making you smile back, a little touched by the earnestness in his voice. It’s rare to see Thor so serious, but in moments like this, you realize just how much he cares about his family—even if it’s a little too late.

As the conversation dies down, Thor bids you farewell, walking off in the opposite direction to presumably find his brother. You remain in the gardens for a few more minutes, deep in thought. There’s a strange, almost bittersweet tension in the air now, an unspoken understanding of the dynamic between the brothers.

The next day, you find yourself walking the palace halls when you catch sight of Loki. He’s talking to a group of Asgardian nobles, but the moment he notices you, his demeanor shifts instantly. His sharp, emerald eyes cut toward you, his mouth forming a thin line. He says something to the nobles, and they scatter quickly, leaving him alone in the corridor.

You pause for a moment, unsure of how to approach him. But before you can decide, Loki walks toward you, his footsteps purposeful. You can feel the chill of his presence before he even speaks.

“What was that, then?” Loki’s voice is cool, his usual aloofness cloaking his words.

You raise an eyebrow. “What are you talking about?”

His eyes narrow. “You and Thor,” he sneers slightly, as though saying his brother’s name leaves a bitter taste in his mouth. “You two spent an awfully long time together yesterday, didn’t you? Talking about me, no doubt. What was it this time? His concern for my well-being?”

You bite your lip, taking in the sharp edge of jealousy in his voice. You feel a slight pang of guilt, but you stand your ground. “We talked about you, yes. But it wasn’t to criticize you, Loki. It was about… understanding.”

Loki scoffs, crossing his arms tightly over his chest, and his gaze shifts toward the floor. “I see. Understanding.”

“You don’t have to do this,” you say, your voice softer now. “You don’t have to push everyone away. Not me. Not him.”

Loki’s head jerks up, and his eyes flash with something unreadable. “I push people away because I know how this ends, Y/N. Thor always takes what he wants. He took Father’s love, and now he wants to take you, too.”

The words hit you harder than you expect, the raw, vulnerable emotion in his voice twisting something deep inside you. You take a step toward him, but he recoils slightly, his posture rigid.

“You don’t have to be afraid of that,” you say, your voice barely a whisper, but there’s certainty in it. “Thor won’t take me from you. I won’t let him.”

Loki’s eyes flicker toward you, the flickering of something darker in his gaze before he presses his lips together in frustration. “How can you be so sure?” His voice cracks slightly, and you don’t know how to respond, except to step even closer to him.

His face softens for a fraction of a second—just long enough for you to see how fragile he really is, how deeply the idea of losing you, losing anything, is etched in him. You place a hand gently on his arm, your voice even softer now.

“I know because we talked. Thor and I. He knows the way you feel, Loki. He’s going to make things right between you two. You don’t have to push him away.”

Loki’s jaw tightens, and you can see the battle within him, the struggle to trust his brother again. But then, something shifts in him, and his gaze softens, if only for a moment.

“I don’t want to lose you,” Loki admits in a low voice, the words barely audible, as though he’s afraid of speaking them too loud, afraid of what they might mean.

You reach up, gently cupping his cheek, your thumb brushing lightly over his skin, and he leans into your touch. “You won’t lose me, Loki. I’m not going anywhere.” Your voice is steady, and you see his breath hitch slightly as his emotions threaten to overwhelm him.

He looks away quickly, his throat tightening, but the tremor in his shoulders betrays him. “I don’t deserve you,” he mutters, barely holding it together.

“Don’t say that,” you reply firmly. “You’re not perfect. None of us are. But you deserve all the love and respect in the world. And I’m here, Loki. Always.”

He looks at you then, his expression softening with that familiar vulnerability you’ve seen fleetingly in the past few days, but it’s stronger now, more present than ever before. Without thinking, you pull him into an embrace, wrapping your arms around him tightly. For a long moment, he doesn’t respond, his body stiff in your arms, but then he exhales slowly, his breath shaky, and finally, he holds you back.

The weight of everything between you two finally lifts, and the walls crumble a little more. The steady rhythm of his breathing in your arms is all you need to know that he feels safe.

Later that night, when you retire to your chambers, Loki follows you, a quiet presence in the doorway.

You look at him, feeling something deep inside you—a need for closeness, for reassurance that everything will be okay. “Stay with me?” you ask softly, and for the first time in what feels like forever, you see something like relief wash over his face.

“I don’t think I can ever go back,” he says quietly, his voice laced with exhaustion, vulnerability.

You reach for him, and without another word, Loki walks into your arms, settling beside you on the bed. You pull the blankets up around both of you, and without a word, you curl up against him.

His arm drapes around you naturally, and you breathe in the warmth of his presence, the security of knowing that, no matter what happens, you

’ve found something real between you two.

“Thank you,” Loki murmurs softly, as if you’ve given him everything he’s ever wanted, even when you haven’t fully realized it yourself.

You smile, tracing circles on his chest with your fingers, whispering back, “No need for thanks. Just stay here, with me.”

The night deepens, and the world outside your chambers is cloaked in quiet, but inside, there’s an unmistakable warmth that envelopes both of you. Loki’s arm around you feels like the most natural thing in the world. As the minutes pass, you rest your head against his chest, listening to the rhythmic thrum of his heartbeat beneath your ear. There’s a comfort in the silence, in just being close to him. You feel safe here, as if this moment is yours and yours alone, something you both can keep in the quiet intimacy of the night.

Loki doesn’t speak, but the occasional brush of his lips against your temple is all the words you need. Each kiss is a small promise, gentle and soft, as though he’s trying to tell you everything his voice cannot. The warmth of his lips against your skin lingers long after he pulls back, and the weight of the past few months—the distance, the uncertainty, the doubts—slowly begins to dissolve. You realize now that it was never about the marriage contract, nor the obligations that bound you together; it was about this—this connection between the two of you that had always been there, waiting for the right moment to surface.

You kiss him back, tentatively at first, but as you feel him pull you closer, your kisses deepen. They’re slow and deliberate, as though you both want to savor this, to make sure it isn’t just a fleeting moment but a beginning. His lips are warm and soft, and every time they meet yours, there’s a spark—a connection that has been years in the making, one that now feels as though it’s blooming into something beautiful, fragile, and new.

The kisses grow longer, more meaningful, as if both of you are learning how to express the things you’ve kept hidden for so long. Loki’s hand gently cradles your face, his thumb tracing the line of your jaw, as if memorizing the feel of your skin. He deepens the kiss slightly, and you meet him with equal fervor, the world outside fading away until there’s nothing left but the two of you, tangled in the quiet intimacy of shared tenderness.

When the kiss finally breaks, neither of you moves, just breathing in the same air. Loki’s forehead rests gently against yours, and you can feel the warmth of his breath, still heavy with emotion.

“Stay here,” he murmurs, his voice low and filled with something you can’t quite put into words. It’s a question, but more than that, it’s a plea—a quiet request for this peace to last.

“I will,” you reply softly, your hand resting on his chest, feeling the steady beat of his heart under your palm. And you mean it, more than anything. You know that, in this moment, everything between you has changed.

The night goes on quietly, both of you finding comfort in each other’s presence, the soft and tender kisses gradually fading into the warmth of shared silence. It’s a perfect peace, a moment of vulnerability and connection that neither of you had ever expected but now can’t imagine living without.

As the days pass, the dynamic between you and Loki shifts. What once seemed like a forced relationship, something borne out of duty and circumstance, is now something more. The distance that once existed between you two has shrunk, replaced by an ease that only comes when two people begin to trust each other in ways neither expected. Your interactions are now filled with light touches, shared glances, and quiet smiles. There’s a softness in Loki’s demeanor that wasn’t there before—a gentleness that’s slowly replacing the walls he’s built around himself.

You see it in the way he looks at you, the way he seeks out your presence even when there’s no need for it. There’s an undeniable shift in his behavior, one that others notice, too.

Frigga, ever observant, notices the change in the air the moment she steps into the palace halls. She smiles knowingly when she sees the way Loki watches you during breakfast, his eyes soft and full of affection. It’s the first time she’s seen him like this in a long while—less guarded, more present. She watches you both from across the room, her heart swelling with a mix of pride and relief. For all the missteps and misunderstandings, she’s always known that the two of you could find something real.

Thor, too, sees the change, though he’s not as subtle in his observations. He slaps Loki on the back one afternoon, his booming laugh echoing through the palace halls. “Well, well! Looks like someone’s finally figured it out,” he teases, a wide grin plastered on his face.

Loki stiffens at first, but then the corner of his lips quirks up, a smirk that’s less mocking and more content than it’s ever been. “What do you mean?” Loki asks, raising an eyebrow.

“Don’t play coy,” Thor says, his tone playful. “I’ve seen the way you look at her. It’s about time, brother.”

Loki sighs, rolling his eyes dramatically. “I’m not in the mood for your commentary, Thor.”

But even as he says this, there’s a subtle flush to his cheeks, a fleeting moment of embarrassment that makes you chuckle softly. Loki’s pride may be as sharp as ever, but there’s a vulnerability there too, one that he tries to hide behind his biting sarcasm and quick wit.

As the days go by, your connection to Loki only deepens. The two of you spend more time together, finding moments of quiet solace amid the chaos of palace life. You talk—about everything and nothing at all. You learn more about each other in those quiet, unspoken moments than you ever did in the months before. It’s in the way he brushes your hair out of your face when it falls in your eyes or how he looks at you when you laugh at something absurd he says. It’s in the way he remembers small details about you, like the way you take your tea or how you always tie your shoes in the same knot.

The change doesn’t go unnoticed by the people around you. The courtiers whisper about it, the nobles gossip behind their fans. They notice the way Loki looks at you when you enter the room, how his eyes soften when you speak. They notice how the two of you sit together at dinner, heads close, sharing small private jokes no one else seems to understand. The shift in the way he treats you is almost palpable, and it doesn’t take long for the rest of the palace to catch on.

But the real surprise comes from the children.

It starts innocently enough. One evening, as you walk through the palace gardens with Loki, you hear giggling in the distance. When you look around, you see a group of young children playing near the fountain. They stop as soon as they notice you, eyes widening before they run over to you, their faces alight with excitement.

“Princess Y/N!” one of them exclaims, a little girl with bright red hair. “Is it true that you and Prince Loki are really married now?”

You raise an eyebrow, surprised by the question, but before you can answer, another child chimes in.

“Yes! I heard you two are so in love!” The child’s voice is full of awe, as though this is the most magical thing they’ve ever heard.

Loki scoffs, but there’s a teasing glint in his eyes. “I assure you, we’re simply fulfilling our duties. Nothing more.”

But the children aren’t convinced. They gather around you, bombarding you with questions. “When will you have babies?” one of them asks innocently.

You blush deeply, not quite sure how to handle the question. Loki looks absolutely mortified, but there’s an amused edge to his expression.

“Well,” you start, unsure of what to say, “we haven’t really discussed that yet. But we’re very happy.”

“Oh, I bet you are!” another child giggles, clearly not taking you seriously. “You two are always together now. You must be so in love!”

Loki looks at you in mild horror. “What have we gotten ourselves into?”

You laugh, feeling the warmth in your chest spread. “I think we’ve just become a fairytale, Loki.”

The children’s excitement doesn’t end there. The next day, they’re playing again, this time reenacting your supposed “love story” with elaborate costumes. They insist on calling you and Loki the “Royal Lovers of Asgard,” and you can’t help but smile at their innocent enthusiasm. It’s impossible not to see the joy they find in the idea of your relationship, an idea that, in their eyes, is full of magic and wonder. The way they view you both—so wrapped up in this imagined romance—is innocent and sweet, and it makes you realize how far you and Loki have come.

As the days go by, the children’s stories spread throughout the palace. The courtiers begin whispering more frequently about the Royal Lovers, and soon enough, even the servants are in on the tale. You and Loki have become the subject of countless stories, both real and imagined. The court’s expectations of your relationship have shifted, but for the first time, it feels like you’re not just playing a part anymore. You’re both actively shaping this life, together.

And for all the teasing from Thor and the gossips from the children, there’s a part of you that feels proud of what you’ve built. It may have started as a duty, a contract forged by fate, but now it feels like something more. You and Loki are no longer bound by obligation alone. There’s affection, there’s trust, and there’s something deeper—something far more real.

It’s not the fairytale the kingdom expected, but it’s yours. And somehow, that feels perfect.

part 2 with royal kids? ;)

[panlight]

Really is wild when you start to think about what other characters went through during the course of the books that just . . . doesn't matter all that much.

Alice found out how/why she was turned, that she had been hunted by James and a vampire who cared about her turned her to save her and then died protecting her. That's a lot. And then in New Moon she finds out her father had her committed to an asylum and the date on her supposed gravestone matches the date on the admission papers. Also a lot. I guess with this one you can sort of handwave it with "she doesn't remember any of it though so maybe that's why it doesn't affect her much."

Then there's Leah and Seth, who lose their dad, and that's like, hardly a thing other than a) allows for the "funeral" miscommunication and b) makes Sue single so she can take care of Charlie while Bella's off blissfully vampiring. Seth is happy and sunny and sweet pretty much 100% of the time, and Leah's issues are all attributed to the Sam/Emily drama rather than, oh, I don't know, the shock of her phasing into a wolf causing her father's fatal heart attack. The guilt she must feel about that even though it's not at all her fault!

Then there's the Cullens in general dealing with having to hunt down and kill James; having to deal with Edward running away and nearly dying in Volterra; being under the threat of the Volturi because of Edward's misadventure in Italy; having to fight to the death against a bunch of newborns; and facing off against the Volturi. They presumably have been living in peace since whenever it was Maria had shown up in Calgary and then in the space of like a year and a half just complete and utter chaos, and all they can say about it is like, "we're so grateful you saved Edward, Bella!"

Quil, watching all his friends join this mysterious 'cult' and being left out and confiding in Bella about it. Sam dealing with All Of It when he wasn't even supposed to be the Alpha. Embry realizing he's the half-brother of one of these guys and probably searching for that belonging but knowing it could throw the community and families into chaos.

And then there's the pregnancy. Only Rosalie gets to have any feelings about it really and again, it's mostly so she can be Bella's bodyguard and less about Rosalie herself. But Esme has also longed for motherhood and sure she "makes do" with her Cullen kids, but they were all essentially adults when she adopted them. But more importantly she actually HAS been pregnant and HAS had a baby and LOST said baby. She also crushed hard on a vampire when she was a teenager, and now she's watching Bella getting to have a child with the vampire she loves when it's impossible for Esme herself and surely surely surely this would bring up some complicated feelings. But we get nothing. Like, literally nothing from Esme, she might as well not be in the book. She just existed to renovate the cottage.

Then there's Carlisle, whose mother died in childbirth from his normal human birth, watching his new daughter-in-law dying from a pregnancy and listening to his first and most beloved son say how he could never love the creature, his own child, if it kills Bella, and probably looking back on his own fraught relationship with his father and reliving that same resentment from the POV of the 'creature that killed the mother' and again, nothing. Not a factor. No one even mentions it in passing.

And like yes, I know, it's a YA romance, it's Not That Deep, it's about a girl falling in love with a vampire and finding wish fulfillment fantasy in that. I know. Everything else is just set dressing and not given any depth at all because it's not the point. But man, there's SO much there in the little throwaway details and unexplored backstories, and I fully believe that's what is fueling a large part of the fandom to this day.

[underlove-official]

What is UnderLove?

"UnderLove" is an AU created by Radicalrainbow, based on the renowned role-playing game Undertale. In the universe of UnderLove, the struggle between love and hate shapes its story. It introduces a unique twist with love-centric magic and the contrasting power of hate. Characters’ appearances are heart-themed, adorned in shades of pinks, reds, and whites, with frilly trims, fluffy details, and prominent heart motifs embracing a Valentine's/Lovecore theme. Yet, this AU can show more than just one side of the coin.

Underlove's history

History of the Underground: Long ago, humans and monsters lived separately and in disarray upon the surface. Humans were known for their ruthlessness, hostility, and HATE, which led them to push the kind and loving monsters away.

Tragedy struck one night when the king’s life was brutally taken, leading Asgore to ascend to the throne. Blinded by his own growing anger, Asgore sought to avenge his father, and the once kind and loving monsters turned hostile as war was declared against the humans.

The war raged on, with magic clashing and bodies falling. Eventually, humans emerged victorious, and with the help of a powerful mage, they sealed the monsters underground. The Underground was filled with despair and darkness, but the magic of LOVE gradually began to bloom again, restoring harmony among the monsters.

The royal family made certain that their people remained full of LOVE, fearing the resurgence of HATE that had swept the surface. Royal guards were tasked with protecting the Underground by preserving love and happiness, removing those who began to corrupt with hatred, and dealing with any humans who entered their realm.

Chara’s Arrival: After many years after banishment, their peace was interrupted when a human named Chara fell into their midst, seeking refuge from human cruelty. The Dreemurr family adopted Chara despite their initial wariness, it came to be the best decision of their lives as the two kids grew up together.

Tragically, Chara fell terminally ill from consuming red rose seeds, causing them to cough up petals and roses. Before the illness could fully silence them, Chara expressed a dying wish to see the surface sky one last time.

Asriel, their adoptive brother, absorbed Chara's soul and carried them through the barrier that separated their world from the humans. However, upon reaching the surface, they were met with misunderstanding and rage, resulting in the tragic demise of both Asriel and Chara.

The Dreemurr family, torn apart by the loss of their beloved children, decreed that any human who fell into their realm would be imprisoned in the depths of their castle dungeon.

Official Character Illustrations

FAQs [to be updated]

Question 1: What inspired "UnderLove"? Answer 1: [I've always favored the theme of Lovecore and the holiday of Valentine's Day!]

Question 2: How is "UnderLove" different? Answer 2: [UnderLove started off as a simple theme overhaul, with the characters and locations falling into its theme. Yet I wanted it to be unique, so the story follows a different path from Undertale and other AUs]

Question 3: Can I create fanart for "UnderLove"? Answer 3: [Yes! Absolutely! I'd love to see artwork done of these characters! Just make sure to tag me or use the hashtag #UnderLovefanwork so I can see it!]

Question 4: Can I draw my OC depicted in "UnderLove"? Answer 4: [Of course! I'd love to see what their designs turn out to be and how they'd interact with the cast of characters.]

Question 5: Does "UnderLove" have a wiki page? Answer 5: [Yes it does! I created it a while back and I intend to keep it as updated as possible for UnderLove]

Ask Guidelines

Respect: Be kind and respectful in your questions. Any asks that reflect HATE or are disrespectful will be ignored. No NSFW Content: Please refrain from submitting any NSFW content or questions as this blog and AU are intended for all audiences to enjoy.

Topic: Try to keep asks relevant to the blog and UnderLove in general. Any asks that are off-topic may be passed over to my main blog @radicalrainbow

Repetition: Before submitting your ask, check if it has already been answered via the hashtag on the blog #AsksofLove

No Roleplay Asks: While I love the enthusiasm for the characters and its story, this blog is not set up for roleplaying.

Patience: I try to respond to asks as quickly as possible, but response times may vary depending on the volume of questions and the progress of the story. If your ask doesn’t receive an immediate response, please be patient!

UnderLove's story

The official story of "UnderLove" will be told as a written narrative across multiple chapters. Each chapter will feature illustrated titles, and the written story will be accompanied by drawings that bring key scenes to life. These illustrations will help you better visualize the scenes that are being told. Artist Collaboration While I will be the main artist creating these illustrations, I’m excited to announce that other artists can collaborate on this project! If you’re an artist and would like to contribute: Contact Me! Reach out via my Discord handle or send an ask to the blog (please note that anonymous asks won’t be considered). We can discuss how you can get involved and the specific scenes you might illustrate.

All contributing artists will be fully credited, and I’ll link back to your social media profiles so the community can see the amazing work you’ve contributed!

Written Story chapters

Chapter 1: The Journey Begins

Chapter 2:

Chapter 3:

There's alot more to come to Underlove, so stay determined and keep an eye on this blog for the upcoming story, official artwork, fanart, and updates! Your support and love fuels this story's creation!!

In this world it's Love or be Loved!

[gnocchibabie]

Desire and Blood (Chapter 2)

Pairing: Aemond Targaryen x Targaryen/Strong OC (Jaenara Velaryon)

Tags: AU - canon divergence, enemies to lovers, arranged marriage, Targcest (uncle/niece)

Wordcount: 5.2k

Summary:

Against all odds, the love between childhood friends prevails and the Dance of Dragons is avoided.

However, peace comes at a cost. With the unexpected proposal of marriage between Alicent Hightower's son and Rhaenyra Targaryen's only daughter, can love truly blossom between sworn enemies? Or will Jaenara Velaryon be reduced to a mere pawn?

Love may yet arise where enmity once thrived, but Aemond's relentless pursuit of power threatens to shatter everything they hold dear, including each other.

Notes: Part one is linked here!

If you are liking this series, please consider showing some love on my AO3 posting of this fic :) thank you x

The doors to the council room chamber finally shut, leaving only Alicent and her two sons by themselves. A tense air looms overhead, and Aemond Targaryen sits stiff in his chair, considering all that has just happened. 

I am to marry Jaenara Velaryon.

A funny feeling settled at the bottom of Aemond’s heart. Truth be told, marrying his niece was far from the worst possible marriage partner he could imagine. Aemond would never speak it aloud, but he had always found Jaenara strikingly beautiful. While she did not bear the signature Targaryen white hair, she shared their bewitching lavender eyes. Hers had always been an interesting shade, he had thought. And Jaenara had a remarkably Valyrian face. Many people amongst the court — even his mother Alicent — had stated that Jaenara was a spitting image of Rhaenyra in her younger years.

Aemond also admired his niece’s curious personality, which was an understatement. One second, she could be as cold as the winters of the north. A moment later, she would exhibit a kindness and warmth only read about in stories. She was a welcome challenge, Aemond thought. 

Jaenara, he remembered, is also a skilled dragonrider. She had a strong bond with her dragon, and had quickly honed many skills and tactics that many within their family — including her brothers, had struggled with. 

Perhaps there was more to admire about this match than he initially believed. 

Aemond finally raises his gaze to his mother and brother.

“I never thought you’d be one to play matchmaker, mother.” Aemond tells his mother, the slightest hint of amusement in his tone. Amusement to mask his uncertainty. Alicent looks at him incredulously, wondering how her son could joke amidst such circumstances. 

“Oh you didn’t know?” Aegon scoffs, “Mother has already done this before. Can’t you see how happy Helaena and I are together? Surely you and your beloved bastard will also be a sight to behold.” 

Aemond opens his mouth to retort his brother's jabs but his mother beats him to it.

“Enough!” Alicent slams an open palm onto the table. Aegon scoffs once more and rolls his eyes. Their mother’s eyes hold sorrow. Guilt. She has nothing to say in rebuttal. What could be said in face of the cold truth?

Aemond is about to leave when his mother finally speaks: “You will speak to Jaenara with more respect from now on if you are expected to sit at her mother’s council…” she trails off, as if unsure of her own words.

“I seem to remember you spoke of her the same way not too long ago - what was it you called her? Plain-featured?,” Aegon says, “Though your criticism of Rhaenyra and her litter of bastards has lessened over these last few months. Has the Queen snuffed out your senses too?” 

“Aegon,” Alicent’s voice is heavy, “Aemond. Rhaenyra only has everyone’s best interest in mind. She is following her father’s dying wishes - your father’s dying wish. We were both with him in his last moments…” The woman before them clad in green closes her eyes and takes a deep breath. 

“I know what has happened in the past. But this is our opportunity to put it at rest…”

Put it at rest? Aemond feels disgust at his mother’s sympathies. They took my eye. They made my childhood the nightmare it was. They chipped away at me bit by bit.  

“You say this about the same people who robbed me of an eye, mother,” Aemond responds coolly, “The same people who faced no consequences for this. I have seen how this has tormented you, even years later. As you have with me.”

The prince can see the conflict that bubbles below his mother’s surface. Alicent turns to her son and does something unexpected. She takes her hand in his. 

Aemond’s eye softens for the smallest moment.

“My son. There is no mending what has been left in the past. But there is still time to mend the future. I only wish to see you happy.”

He shakes out of his mother’s grasp. “She will do no such thing.”

Aemond stands and makes a brisk exit for the door. Leaving his mother and brother behind, and himself to his thoughts.

Someone will pay the price. And I will make him pay for it in blood.

The prince does not find sleep so easily that night. He challenges himself to imagine the look that would grace his niece’s face when her mother would have to break the news of their arrangement to her. He wondered if her lavender eyes would narrow in disgust, her lip curling in a snarl, anger palpable. Or perhaps she had looked to her mother with quiet surrender, making no reaction and solemnly accepting his hand. He decided she had done the former. Jaenara had always been a rather animated young woman - and that was putting it lightly. Even in their youth she had been this way.

In the quiet of his chambers, Aemond finds his mind enraptured by the princess. 

He is reminded of a time she had scolded him when she was a girl no older than six, and himself only seven, for pushing her twin to the ground and giving him a scraped elbow. The only person who managed to stop her tirade had been Rhaenyra. Aemond recalls the young mother scooping her twins into her arms, one flailing around still shouting at him whilst the other had tears streaming down his face. The prince smiles almost fondly from the memory, surprising himself.

The next memory that came to him happened a few years later. Aemond had more often found himself at the center of ridicule, frequently dealt by Jace and Luke. Oftentimes by Aegon too, though he chose to ignore that detail. The young prince had always felt distant to the rest of his family, as though he were different - lesser than the rest of them. And how could he not, as a dragon-less Targaryen. He was a dragon without wings. And his nephews had made sure he was aware of this. Aemond recalled how his blood boiled at the thought that bastards such as his nephews - such as Jaenara - had dragons. And yet, he did not. Was there something wrong with him? Had there been a reason his egg had not hatched alongside him in his cradle? Was he unworthy?

The taunting had reached a new level when Jaenara’s brothers had gifted Aemond a pig. Something he was much more worthy of rather than a dragon - they had said. He remembers when his nephews had revealed the creature to him in the training yard. Even Aegon laughed at him, so loudly it had caught the attention of Jaenara, who had been on the far end of the square speaking with Helaena. Aemond remembered how her gaze had turned to him - how he waited for her to join in on the teasing and laughing. 

No such thing happened.

Jaenara bounded over to the group of boys, a quiet storm forming behind her lavender eyes. Helaena had opted to hang back from the debacle, watching the impending uproar with rapt attention. 

“Think that’s funny, do you?” Jaenara had asked aloud when she finally reached their group. 

Silence. 

Jaenara continued, “I seem to remember that you yourself Jacaerys - you have made very little progress in even mounting Vermax.” The young boy averted his attention to the ground, suddenly very interested in a mound of dirt near his feet. The reprimanding had not stopped there.

“And you-” She turned to Lucerys, “You on the other hand may be able to mount your dragon, though you find yourself on the ground within seconds.” She looks between her brothers, and then to Aemond. Each holds their gaze with the other for a few moments.

“Neither of you have any room to be acting as though you are real dragon riders yourselves.” She seems to have finished, turning on her heels and running back to Helaena.

“AND TAKE THAT PIG BACK!” She yells over her shoulder. Aemond watched as his sister and niece strode away, arm in arm. He returns his attention to Jace and Luke, whose faces are the same shade as their house colors. Aegon’s laughter fills the yard again.

This incident had shown Aemond a different side of his niece. For an instant, he was filled with an immense regret for all the times he had ever been cold to her. The times he had called her a bastard. The times he had joined in on Aegon’s belittling of her and her family. She had taken all of that - for years on end - and still defended him. He couldn’t really understand why.

He can do little to prevent his least favorite memory from entering his mind. Aemond takes in a breath and closes his eyes. He remembers the night at Driftmark. The night he had claimed Vhagar. The night he lost his eye. 

That time had been different. Jaenara had not been present when the fighting had broken out - not until Rhaena had frantically found her and told her of what was transpiring, unsure of what to do herself. When his niece entered the room, Aemond had been on top of her brother. The sight had sent the young girl into a frenzy and, without fully understanding the context of the situation, she had flung herself onto Aemond and wrenched the boy off of Lucerys. 

“Get off of him!” She had screeched. With her arm wrapped around Aemond’s neck, Jaenara threw herself back and they soon found themselves on the cold floor. “What do you think you-” Her question remained unanswered at this moment - this singular distraction turning Aemond’s attention towards his niece. He remembered the bewildered look on her face, her black hair coming loose from her braid. Her white night dress and the light purple robe that clung to her. A bead of blood on her bottom lip. She had always had a bad habit of biting it, Aemond had noticed. Hard enough to draw blood. The blood began to trickle down her chin.

It was the last thing his good eye had ever seen before Luke split open Aemond’s face, from his cheek to his forehead. His own blood splattered onto Jaenara’s powder white gown, staining the cloth forever.

Darkness. A scream.

Aemond sat up in bed, blinking away the rest of the memory. He opened and closed a fist. Yes, he was sure of her response now. Jaenara was not happy about the prospect of this union, and had surely let her mother - and the entirety of Dragonstone - know this. Where she lacked Velaryon parentage, Jaenara’s Targaryen fierceness made up for this tenfold. 

She will meet her match.

Aemond would swallow his pride - swallow his grudges against his niece, and become her husband. Though, he decided, she should not expect much from him. He held no love in his heart for her. Surely no romantic love. He would use her as he needed, to obtain what he wanted - power. That, and retribution for the slight that his family had suffered in having Rhaenyra as their Queen. Though some of the weaker members of his family would not see it his way.

He circles back to the dark thoughts that had crossed his mind earlier. He would be doing his soon-to-be wife a favor in getting rid of her twin. She would be made heir to the Seven Kingdoms. It was probably the closest act akin to love Aemond would find himself capable of accomplishing during their relationship. And he would help her to rule. He was nothing if not helpful.

He could make it look like an accident. He had previously considered poisoning Jacaerys. Aemond would not act until a comfortable time into his marriage, so as not to raise suspicion. Though he decided, suspicion would be raised regardless if the heir were to suddenly drop dead in the middle of dinner. He hardly thought that hands clenched around the throat, skin purple, and eyes bulging out of his head would seem inconspicuous.

Poison was out of the question.

Aemond Targaryen feels a sudden sense of dread in plotting his own nephew’s demise. The dread only grows when he truly pictures carrying the act out himself. If he were ever to be discovered, The Realm would christen him with the title of Kinslayer. 

To be a Kinslayer is to be despised by The Gods. To be damned to the Seven Hells. 

Aemond is unsure if he harbors enough hatred in him to carry out the act, though he certainly is no stranger to being on the receiving end of such hatred. 

He considers if he possesses enough complacency to suffer the consequences, should they be dealt. He wonders if his heart is as hard as everyone else believes it to be.

And yet…

Unable to find sleep, Aemond climbs out of bed once more. He dresses and finishes the outfit off with his long black cloak, throwing the hood over his head. 

The One Eyed Prince slips out of the Red Keep and ventures into the Streets of Silk, hoping to find some semblance of comfort. 

— — —

Candlelight illuminates the face of the young princess as her eyes scan the pages of a rather large, rather dusty book. In the days before their inevitable departure, Dragonstone had become a whirlwind of busy servants and flustered royals. All of Jaenara’s possessions had been packed away and taken to King’s Landing ahead of time with the family’s servants, save for the text seated in her lap. In such a tumultuous time, the young woman found solace in its pages. 

Jaenara had read the story of Rhaenys Targaryen, one of Aegon the Conqueror's sister-wives, so many times she felt she could recite the text backwards. Visenya had been a sister more remembered and revered by history for her valor and fierceness as a warrior; though Jaenara found herself drawn to the gentler sister. Rhaenys was more of a revered politician than a feared warrior. To Jaenara, she was just as formidable. She wanted to be like the Queen. Loved and feared. 

A knock upon the door turns her attention away from her histories. Jacaerys enters her chambers and lingers at the door for a moment, before resigning himself to sit next to her on the plush bed. 

“Jace,” Jaenara breathes, closing the text. 

Jacaerys looks over the book. 

“Again?” He attempts a small smile. 

Jaenara gets up from her place on the bed to create some distance between her and her brother. She places the book on her writing desk, taking mental note not to leave the book behind when she leaves tomorrow. “I find comfort through her in times such as these.” she responds shortly. 

Jace sighs, “You have been avoiding me.”

“You have made it easy.”

“Nara,” Jacaerys begins to sound annoyed, “You are not the only person who has had to…adapt to this change.”

Jaenara turns swiftly towards her brother, loose raven tresses swaying behind her wildly, “No, but I am the only person amongst us who had had their hand sold to a snake. You cannot understand my grief, Jace! You are betrothed to Baela - sweet Baela. You two actually like each other. But I am condemned to be the conciliatory sacrifice of this family.“

You are being unfair. Jaenara says to herself — she knows it to be true. You are being difficult. But she cannot help it. Her twin was afforded the luxury of being born a man. A man who did not have to face the same realities she currently found herself in.

Jace shifts on her bed, frame creaking under him. He seems to struggle finding his words, “I…you are right Jaenara,” He sighs, “I do not know what it is like. Just as you do not know what it is like to now be heir of the Seven Kingdoms.”

She glances at him and her twin continues.

“We both have the burdens of our parents to bear. We wear crowns too heavy for us.” Jace is solemn.

Jaenara bites her lip hard and lets out a shaky breath. A sickly sheen of guilt settled in her stomach. It was true that she had not considered what the rest of her family had been feeling of late. She seats herself beside Jacaerys and the bed groans under their weight once more. 

“I am sorry Jace.” Is all she can muster up.

Jace places a reassuring hand over her own. “You may yet make some use out of your upcoming marriage.”

Confused, Jaenara looks to her brother.

“Aemond is a fierce fighter. He is well versed in the histories and philosophies. I hear he has become a knowledgeable strategist. He rides the largest and oldest dragon, who is no stranger to battle.” Copper eyes meet lilac eyes. “And with you as his wife, he will be in our pocket.”

“He would be a formidable ally to have. But Aegon holds a seat on mother’s council - not Aemond.” Jaenara asserts.

“I as heir and you as his wife could sway this decision.”

“Mother has not even been crowned and you are already scheming.” Jaenara’s words are not so chiding as they are playful.

“Not scheming. I only hold our best interests in mind.” Jace tells his sister.

She looks him over once more. When had they become so…grown-up?

“You tell me you are fearful of wearing the crown one day…I think you will come to wear it well.” Jaenara softly smiles as Jacaerys scoffs and rises to his feet. 

“Just think it over, Nara,” He turns to the door, “You must rest. We rise early in the morning and depart for King’s Landing.” 

Before he leaves, he throws a glance at his sister over his shoulder. “I won’t let any harm come to you…from him.”

Jaenara does not let on how much the words mean to her. She has always disguised her true feelings under a cover of dripping sarcasm. “You need not worry about me, brother. Perhaps you should protect him from me.”

Jacaerys laughs and leaves again.

As Jaenara climbs into bed, she considers her brother's words.

Where he may prove to fail as a husband, he could make up for as an advisor. A weapon.

The princess blows out the candle and dreams.

In her slumber, Jaenara is face to face with Aemond Targaryen. He stands opposite to her, in front of a throng of people. She looks down and sees herself clad in an ornate dress of scarlet, white, and gold. Her black hair is pinned up in several twisting braids. The One Eyed Prince looks to his beautiful bride, eye full of admiration. For a moment, she thinks he might love her.

She thinks she may like that.

Suddenly, gasps are heard around the crowd. The gasps morph into shouts, scattered all over the Great Hall. A sharp pain. Jaenara feels a sticky warmth envelop her cheek, and feels something dribble onto her wedding gown. She reaches a trembling hand up to her face, pulls it back, and watches blood soak her palm, dripping below her wrist and all the way down the length of her arm. The wails echoing throughout the hall only grow around her. It is maddening. A sickening pop makes her blood run cold and she watches as one of her eyes rolls onto the floor below. 

Her husband’s mouth moves yet his voice comes out delayed, a haunting chorus.

An eye for an eye.

Jaenara wakes to another knock at her door. 

“My lady, may I help you dress?”

The princess wills her breath steady and wipes the sweat from her brow.

“Come…come in!” She calls out to her handmaiden. 

There was no time to dwell on the meaning of dreams.

— — — 

Prince Aemond sits across from Helaena as her children busy themselves with their toys. A handmaiden hands Jahaerys a toy dragon, which the boy launches at his brother. 

“I think I will be glad to see them today,” Helaena says suddenly, looking up from her embroidery, “In truth, I have missed Jaenara.”

Aemond continues to watch his niece and nephews play as he answers his sister, “You may be the only one amongst us who feels that way,” He mutters, “Though I do remember how close you and Jaenara were as children.”

Helaena had been an even lonelier child than she was now, as a lonely young woman. Always murmuring words that his family could not understand, and did little in trying to understand. Aemond had always felt sorry for her. But Jaenara did not seem to mind her aunt’s off putting nature. He recalls them as young girls, running throughout the castle gardens together, trying to catch butterflies. He remembers as they grew older, a few young ladies in court had taken to calling his sister, Helaena The Hysterical.

Before Aemond could put an end to the name calling, Jaenara had done it herself. The girls in court would not so much as look at either of them wrong.

And most of all, Jaenara listened to Helaena. Something nobody in his family seemed to do. Not even him, in truth. 

“I would hope you two can become close as well,” She gives her brother a wistful look, “You are to be married.”

“I think us siblings are doomed to hold strained relationships - at best - with their marriage partners.” Aemond replies. 

Helaena looks down at her sewing. Maelor and Jaehaerys fight over a wooden horse. Aemond’s sister remains in front of him, though she looks as though she is worlds away.

“Those child led astray finds solace in the embrace of the sea.” she whispers.

Aemond’s attention is redirected from children to mother. A silence passes over him and his sister’s handmaids.

More innocuous ramblings, he thinks.

A servant enters the door to inform the sibling’s of The-Queen-To-Be’s arrival.

“Come, sister,” Aemond begins, “Alicent will be waiting for us. She wishes to receive our family in the Great Hall.”

Helaena sets down her embroidery and looks up at her brother, “A dragon’s ambition foretells his own undoing.” 

Aemond chooses not to hear her words.

— — —

Jaenara and her family’s reception in the Great Hall could not have felt more strained. Guarded expressions and tight lipped smiles adorned Alicent and her children - though Aemond and Aegon had not smiled at all. Helaena seemed blissfully unaware of the anxious energy surrounding her. Jaenara had sent a secret smile her way - a genuine one. And though she felt her uncle’s eyes boring into her, she refused to meet his gaze. 

Rhaenyra had been displeased by the whole ordeal, hoping to ease tensions at dinner. Jaenara found herself remembering the last dinner she had shared with her entire family and thought it to be an impossible task.

Jaenara had spent the time before dinner settling into her new chambers, though all her belongings had already been settled into place before her arrival. The room felt more inviting than her chamber’s in Dragonstone, which were drab and dreary. Though, this was the only silver lining she could find about her circumstances thus far.

When the time had come to prepare for the evening, the princess disrobed from her riding leathers, the smell of dragon peeling off along with them. Her handmaidens help her to dress in a gown that Rhaenyra had picked out for her.

I do not even have the agency to dress myself now?

Jaenara stepped into a dress of crushed velvet, a dark teal in color. The neckline was embroidered with pearls, illuminating her collarbones. The sleeves of the gown hang loosely and open at her wrists, revealing a pale cream color which lines the teal. A belt of silver bangles mixed with pearls hangs around her waist, crested above the teal, cream, and aquamarine shades of fabric that pool to the floor. The attire bore the unmistakable air of Velaryon fashion. The wearer, not so much.

Portions of Jaenara’s dark silky hair were re-braided into a ring, as if it were a crown sitting atop her head, while the rest of her hair remained loose. Black waves ran down her back like a waterfall. 

Her ladies had been told to do this, to help her into a fine gown. To adorn her ears and wrists with bangles. To fix her hair in a way that flattered her face.

To impress him.

She almost laughs out loud at the thought. Jaenara figured that Aemond would find her as charming as he had found that pig he’d been gifted all those years ago.

She decides to regard him similarly, despite her thoughts drifting to long platinum hair that she envied so much. 

Her maids had finally finished with their work. 

Jaenara is sitting around a great wooden table in the dining hall, with the entirety of her family. Servants have begun to deposit plates filled with meats and vegetables and pies and cakes all around. The clanking of plates and silverware fills an otherwise quiet room. Jaenara is begrudgingly sitting next to her uncle, and Jace and Luke shoot her looks of pity from across the table. She picks up her glass and takes a swig.

Suddenly, Rhaenyra Targaryen speaks, “I wish to clear the air,” She begins and everyone looks up from their plates. Alicent Hightower seems especially stiff. 

“I do not wish for this to be a time of tension and formalities - though I do thank you,” She looks at Alicent directly, “for your welcoming reception earlier today. I want us to speak freely amongst each other. I want only what our father, Viserys, wanted.” She makes a gesture towards her siblings at the end of her sentence. Aegon clears his throat.

“There is much to discuss in the coming days, but I want this to be a night of camaraderie and celebration.” Her mother stands, drink in hand, “Let us raise our glasses-”

Jaenara feels herself melting into her chair.

“-To the union between my cherished daughter, Jaenara Velaryon, and the prince Aemond Targaryen. May their union bring strength and prosperity to our noble houses, and may it be blessed by the gods." Her voice held a hint of cautious optimism, echoing the hopes and dreams of a realm poised on the brink of new alliances.

Jaenara lifts her glass, as well as her attention to the man next to her. Aemond is already looking at his niece, a smirk on his face. 

To everyone’s surprise, Alicent Hightower rises from her seat. She looks less burdened from the words of Rhaenyra.

“Thank you, Your Grace…for your unflinching understanding.” The two women share a look, “And to Jaenara and Aemond. A lovely match indeed.”

Helaena begins to clap, though no one else around the table shares her sentiments.

Aegon lets out an audible laugh at the toastings, “Apologies,” he adds quickly, “I am just so - overjoyed by this…marriage.” His voice drips with sarcasm. 

Jaenara forces a smile, though her eyes shine with a different expression, “I am happy this match pleases you, uncle.” 

However, Aemond does not let the jab pass unanswered. "I hope your joy does not swell too greatly, brother," he retorts, "for dragons have been known to breathe fire when overshadowed." 

Jaenara sits up straighter when she sees Aegon roll his eyes and throw back his cup. She regards Aemond with a quizzical gaze. The princess regarded Aemond’s retort as nothing more than a brotherly spat. Before any more slights can be passed around, the servants finish bringing out the rest of the food. The family begins their dinner and small conversations break out amongst those resigned to sit next to each other.

The princess watches her brothers laugh with Baela and Rhaena. Sees her mother and step-father speak with one another. She pushes her food around her plate.

The sudden sound of Aemond’s voice makes her jump, “The cooking of the castle staff does not please you?” he asks, amused.

Jaenara stops playing with her food and her eyes cut away to her uncle.

“The first conversation you wish to have with me - in years - is whether or not I like our meal?” her voice drips with condescending skepticism, “As if the fate of the realm hinges on my opinion of pigeon pie?”

He tsks at her, “Always so difficult niece. I am only attempting to make conversation. An endeavor that seems beneath you - a pursuit you avoid at all costs if it is with me.”

“You are just…quite bad at it.” Jaenara remarks.

It is Aemond’s turn to take a sip of his drink to hide his annoyance.

“I do enjoy that…costume you’re wearing. But you are more a Targaryen than a Velaryon - don’t you agree?” Aemond says lowly.

Jaenara knows his remarks are meant to be demeaning, though she tries to take it in stride. She was a Targaryen after all. And she was pleased that she acted so much like one that people took notice, even if it was Aemond. But an insult was an insult all the same. 

Exasperated, Jaenara turns to the prince fully, “Is this what I can expect when married to you? Insults thrown at me for all my days to come? You should know I can deal them out as well, twice as hard.”

Aemond chuckles, “You are too easy and quick to provoke, Jaenara. You are too tense.” She sees something flicker beneath his eye.

Aemond took pleasure in goading his niece, reveling in the predictability of her fiery responses. More silence passes between them. The prince watches Jaenara force a few bites of food into her mouth and continues to eavesdrop on conversations around her. Daemon whispers something to Rhaenyra, and her mother takes a glance at her daughter and half-brother. Jaenara winces. 

“You asked what you can expect being my…wife,” Aemond’s surprisingly soft gaze is already fixed upon her, “You can expect a union that does not harbor any illusions of love. But one founded on mutual…respect. Understanding. We shall navigate this pact with the grace and duty befitting of our situation if you would only allow it.” His words somehow put her at ease.

Jaenara is perplexed. Maybe her mother had been right in saying that Aemond had changed. Though she was skeptical of his remarks. It was yet uncertain whether they could truly let go of all that had transpired in the past. 

Although, the princess felt ever the faintest tinge of disappointment at his words.

“Well…” She begins, though her words do not come out as strong as she would like them to under her uncle’s intense stare, “I am…pleased to hear that. We do not have to feign ignorance then. I expected nothing more from us.”

To Jaenara’s dismay, Aemond seems amused. It is not so often she stumbles over her words. His gaze lingers over her. He takes notice of the pearl that sits prettily below her collarbones. He watches her eyes fall to her hands, which she wrings in her lap. Jaenara finds that she does not like how being at a loss for words makes her feel, and decides to throw back her drink, trying to find comfort in the bottom of the chalice.

[tonixe]

—santa baby

A/N: Another Coriolanus Fic, I know, im obsessed. But I'm still in love with him. Christmas special, and the votes were counted, and the winning side was smut, not surprised though. I wanted smut too!

WARNING: fingering, creampies, virginity loss, p in v, teasing, groping, breeding kink, oral sex (male receiving), cum eating.

PAIRING: Young! Coriolanus x virgin!reader

WORD COUNTER: 2.1k

You enjoyed the holidays, the festive decorations, and the lovely atmosphere of the holiday, it filled you with much peace and joy throughout the month. But this month was your favorite, Christmas is a day that you get to gift people, and though people coup up in the Capitol, you were spoiled with many gifts from your parents and others, but you especially liked to gift people with your own expensive, spoiling others made you feel happy, enthralled even. Surprising from someone of your caliber to say.

You especially liked to gift your loved ones, your mother, father, siblings, and especially your beloved, Coriolanus Snow. You were in distress about what to gift him for this especially holiday, though you knew he always got something to satisfy your craving for luxury. You didn't know at all, even trying to talk to Tigris about what Coriolanus always wanted, she, herself didn't have an answer for this difficult question. A thought bloomed in your mind, though of the four years of marriage you shared with Coriolanus, you never ever had a sexual encounter with him. Was gifting him your virginity too scandalous, but you didn't know anything else that would do it for him, he did have everything a man wished for,

What would a president of Panem want for Christmas, you sat down and read through catalogs and catalogs of magazines to get you an idea of what to do. You knew Coriolanus adored having you wearing lingerie, especially the lacy ones that showed skin, you felt queasy at the idea, your cheek getting hotter by the second, pursing your lips together, but there wasn't any other way...right?

Your idea was to make a special set of lingerie for you to wear for Coriolanus, you wanted something that would match his signature red suit. Something lacy, with ribbons and cute little bows. You manage to get a tailor that would set up the special lingerie collection. Attending the fitting was hard, especially with Coriolanus wanting to know where you are every second, can't have Panem's prized jewel going missing?

You had a bunch of peacekeepers guarding your every move, walking into the tailor shop and out, even going inside. It was hard to keep this secret hidden from Coriolanus, especially with the loyal guards who reported your every move. But you manage to keep the secret, even making the tailor meet you in a secluded area of the shop to get the measurements.

But in the end, it was able to be complete, the dainty luxurious fabric into a piece of lingerie fitted for your delicate curves, it was a babydoll delicate, with stockings with matching bows on the top of the seams. It was perfect, you hoped that would enjoy that gift, but some part of you doubted. Days after days passed, and it was the prized day, the day you were ready for.

You snuck out of your shared chambers, your plan was to surprise him, writing down a little note and leaving it by his side. Taking out the box with the special garments inside the parcel, sliding on the red delicate lingerie, and mesh tights. Wrapping yourself with a red ribbon, tying your hands together, tightening it with your teeth. Carefully getting into the medium-sized box, you were almost done until you heard footsteps through the hallways, and quickly put the box top on. Your heart rate increases, and you feel your palm getting sweaty...

Hearing Coriolanus's voices through the box, closing your mouth shut. You didn't want to spoil his precious gift, hoping he would at least be satisfied with the surprising gift, crossing your fingers in hope.

Coriolanus called out for you, realizing that you were beside him when he woke up. He knew you enjoy the holidays and this one in general, as he stepped out into the living, there was already a gift he planned to present to you, but looking at the strange box, it was red with a silver ribbon, and was slightly moving. He cocked his eyebrows at the scene, cautiously walking towards the present.

His hands reach for the box and open it, your frame being revealed to him, your eyes making contact with his. "So, this is where you were, my dove," He said, chuckling at your struggling form, "Merry Christmas, Corio" You gave him a shy smile, but you should have seen how you looked in Coriolanus' perspective, the red ribbon wrapping around your body, and near your chest area squeezing against your breast, awaiting to spill out of their confinements. Flickering your eyes away from him, feeling Coriolanus grabbing you out the box shocking you. The red ribbons still confine to your body, as he bridal carried you, "So, this why you were so distinct from me, trying to make this little gift" he smirked, your eyes hestitiately looking away from his bright blue eyes.

His footsteps carry you to your shared chambers, your heart beating in your chest. As he delicately put you on the edge of the bed, your body still confined with the ribbon, he took out some embroidery scissors, slowly cutting through the ribbon except the ones on your hand, as he placed it down on the delicate wooden desk.

His eyes wandered on your half-naked body. Your body looked smooth, doll-like. Your perky chest with hard peaks, his hands touching your confined ones, and he put them over your head. "You did so good for me, dove" he whispered, his fingers touching you, tracing the line of your stomach to your collarbone making you shiver. He outlined your stomach down to your pelvis, gradually dragging off the lacy red panties, making you anxious as your eyes followed his fingers dragging off the delicate panties. Extending your legs, looking at the panties fully being extracted, and throwing them to the other side of the bedroom. The cold air ghosted against your cunt, as your legs trembled.

"Corio.." You whined, you were embarrassed, the feeling of butterflies fluttering around your stomach, "I'm just enjoying my Christmas present, darling" He inched his face, whispering to your ear, as his fingers danced to your delicate petals inching to the bud. His fingers gradually inserted his digits into you, a strife of moans coming out of your lips, as you curved your back up in pleasure. His fingers pulling out of you unbearably slow and plunging back in making you tense up. The brutal pace made you break, your chest heaving as you tensed up at his fingers before his fingers picked up in pace, and it turned into a reckless frenzy. His fingers fucking you harshly, flickering your pearl.

A wanton of moans ripping out of your throat, your eyes rolling back in pleasure, his lips connecting to yours, his tongue exploring your cavern, leaning into the intense kiss. His fingers are still at work, fucking you harsily. You lifted your hips up for him to thrusting deeper into your pussy, withdrawing from the kiss, as you stared at Coriolanus with droopy eyes, your lips parting apart.

Turning your head away from him in embarrassment, "Don't look away from me, dove" He gently turns your head to him, pushing a strand of hair away from your face. Your body felt hot, sweat dripping off of your body. His fingers drove into your cunt, the sloshing sound of your slick, your body getting hotter. Feeling a hot wave of pleasure crashing onto you, curving your back up as your juices mixed with your slick, tensing up your hands against the sheets. Feeling his fingers leaving your cunt, covered in clear fluids. Your cheeks reddened in embarrassment, "You made a mess" Coriolanus said, flickering your eyes at his frame, your hands taking his arm, surprising him. Placing his cum-coated fingers in your mouth, your tongue swirling against his fingertips, staring at him with doe eyes.

His eyes lit up with amusement, as you cleaned his fingers, pulling out his hands from your mouth, saliva coating his fingers. "Are you sure this is your first time, dove" He whispers with delight, you nod, "I want..to satisfy you, Corio" you mumble from your lips, "You are" he cups your cheek, "No..I want to pleasure you, please" your doe eyes looking at his cold eyes. His lips parted at your innocent appearance. Before you sat up, leading him down onto the large bed, your knee digging into the sheet as you pulled off his pants along with his boxers.

Feeling yourself swallowing at the size of his cock, as it strung up. The tip with an angry tip and is covered in colored veins.

Your hand slowly strokes it, your ears hearing groans slipping out of his mouth. Your fingers rub the tip. "Fuck, Y/N" he groans, "Is everything okay?" you questioned, feeling anxious that you're hurting him, "Yes, fuck" he muttered before you took his cock whole into your mouth, your tongue swirling the tip, hearing moans. Your head bobbing up and down his shaft, his moans getting louder, feeling his hands tangled in your hair, as you looked up at his trembling form.

His hand forced you down, making you gag. Tears pricking up on your waterline, forcing yourself to breathe through your nose. As he face fucked you, salvia drooling down your chin, moaning against his touch. Feeling yourself getting wetter, your doe eyes look up.

His hands never leaving your hair as he forced you down before he released his load down your throat, the bitter-salty taste hitting your tongue. Feeling his cock soften in your mouth, withdrawing from him. "Did I do good" you cocked your head to the side, as he examined at you, making note of your half-naked form. His hands making contact with your cheek, as he caressed gently.

He just nodded as you looked at his member harden, as you crawled on top of his body. His hand makes its way on the top of your lingerie, taking it off, and discarding it. Placing your hands on his shoulder, feel his hand on your waist, as you lowered yourself down on his cock. Feeling searing pain in your lower abdomen, stifling a groan from your lips. You felt his hands on your hips dragging you down, bottoming himself, "it's too big... corio" you quivered, "Your doing so well, dove" he gently lift your chin up slightly, as you stared at him.

His hips gently thrust up into your cunt, making you shiver in delight, biting your lip down. Your nails dig deeper into his shoulder making him groan, resting your head on his shoulder, adjusting to the pain. "I'm going to move, okay... Dove" he whispered, you nodded your head at the statement, before feeling his hands on the plush of your bottom, the slow-motion as he gripped your hips feeling his cock leaving you and his then lowering your hips down.

Tears prick on your waterline, biting your lips at the discomfort, his hands rubbing your waist. His hands picking up speed, picking and dropping you down on his cock, the gradually simmering moment of pain, turning into pleasure in your core, moans coming from your lips, throwing your head back in thrill. "Corio" you whined, his pelvis thrusting up. His cock rubbing at your cervix. Your body riding him, feeling addicted to his touch. "Corio–corio" your mouth chanting his name like a prayer, "I'm close..please" You were breathless, his cock slipping out of you and in. Feeling a wave of satisfaction crashing down on you, moans ripping out of you. The lewd sounds of your body mixing with his, your high-pitched moans ripping out your throat.

Feeling his cock leaving you, making you whine, "Lay down" he whispered, pecking your lips as you obey, laying down as he line up with you, pushing his cock into you, thrusting in and out of you, your this bouncing on impact, his hands pressing your legs down on your chest. "Fuck" he groans, his hands pressing your legs closer to you, into a missionary position. Feeling him deep inside you, "Corio–I'm close" you cried out, adjusting your arms around his neck.

His mouth connects to your neck, sucking the vulnerable flesh, you whined out on impact. "I'm close too" he grunted, his pace getting faster, the melody of slapping skin echoing through the room. "Inside please" you whispered, pulling Coriolanus closer to you, feeling your orgasm crashing down on you, moaning out.

Feeling his hot load filling you, his mouth crashing into you, moaning against him. The sensation of his cock dragging out of you, makes you whine. Sweat covers your body, cringing at the feeling of his cum dripping out of you. Your eyes hesitantly looking down, staring at the mess between your legs, light pink liquid dripping out of you.

"Merry Christmas, Corio" you exclaimed, your tired form not letting you stand up, discomfort ringing through your body. Your eyes flicker at the colored stained window, snow falling decorating the scene. Feeling the bed bending at his weight and leaning onto you, leaving a kiss on your lips, "Merry Christmas, my love"

[orshii]

Destiny Awaits

☀︎ Pairing: Jeong Yunho x female reader ☀︎ Word count: 5,5 k ☀︎ Warnings - mentions of death, mentions of child abuse, necromancy

☀︎ Summary: The Sunrise Kingdom plunged into deep sorrow with the death of the King’s daughter. Desperate to bring her back, Yunho was determined to find a way, just like her father, the king. Will they succeed in restoring her to life, or will they ultimately have to let her go for good?

☀︎ A/N: Heyy, I'm back omg. I haven't posted in like two months, a lot happened in my life, but finally, I settled a bit down and I can get back to writing, which I really did miss because it was always like therapy for me. So about this story...One part of the story was already written years ago, it was inspired by Orianna's story (if you play LoL you will understand lmao) the other side was in a process months ago, so I finally put it together when this happened. I hope the POV's are understandable, let me know if it's not. The whole thing is not a big deal, it's just a beautiful story that means a lot to me. That is all, I guess, enjoy and I hope I can come back to writing more. Byee! xoxo orshii (divider)

Once upon a time, there was the Sunrise Kingdom, where only peace existed. The folks always respected their beloved king, who made everyone feel at home and fulfilled every wish they whispered into the sunrise.

The king had a sweet little daughter, Y/N, who loved to dance. Her heart was full of passion, and her soul danced to the sounds of the world. Her father loved her with every inch of his heart because he had no one left in this Kingdom besides his people.

Y/N's mother tragically died when she was born, as their souls switched places and her mother lived in her daughter's heart from then on. 

The king's daughter grew up in the blink of an eye, and she lived her best life. Her days were spent dancing around the castle full of sunshine and meeting with her best friend Yunho, who was the second most important person in the world. He was a boy who she met in the crowded streets when she was visiting their people with her father.

Yunho was a tall boy even though they were quite little when they met. His sincere smile which beamed only happiness, immediately made the little girl's heart warm up. He always wore clothes made out of cheap material, it was ripped here and there because they were overused, and his white shirt with some strings on its neck was always dirtied with soot and soil just like his face.

When she saw him for the first time, the boy was playing on his violin for the people passing by him enjoying the sound the instrument made, brightening their day up. A little black hat was on the floor as it waited for some pennies from the people who passed by. And when she heard the sweet voice of the violin, she immediately wanted to find the source of the sound. As soon as she saw him, the girl felt like she had become a new person that did not exist until that moment.

The boy played the violin with so much passion on his face she couldn't get her eyes off him. The boy's features were soft and he seemed in the girl's eyes, he was a person who would give you the world. She immediately started to connect with the boy with an invisible line that connected them like it was destiny.

 And the music he was playing...it was like he was playing with the strings of her heart. It was speaking to her soul and the sweet sounds of the violin full of sunshine and passion, made her little feet immediately dance.

She couldn't resist. The boy was playing the violin with closed eyes so he could convey the feelings that he felt about his life. The girl started to dance in front of him, spinning around with graceful moves with closed eyes, so she could convey her soul to the music.

It was like everything went black around them and the boy was standing there now with wide-open eyes as he watched the girl dance to his music with burning passion. He was in awe as he had never seen someone this passionate about something. It made him play with the desire to get to know this girl who danced full of life in her heart. As the boy watched the girl dance to his music, he imagined the violin's notes escaping from his instrument and the girl dancing on them, hopping from one to one like a ballerina, jumping in the air to catch the sweet notes of the violin, chasing them so it can light up her soul.

From that day, they became inseparable. They were glued to each other as they met every day. Sometimes it was the place was the poor and warm home of Yunho's and sometimes it was the rich surroundings of Y/N's castle. They grew up together into beautiful humans, no one could compete with their unique beauty.

Not until the world suddenly went quiet.

It was a dark and tragic day, even though the sun was shining with its full power. But when the king's daughter suddenly collapsed on the floor when she was dancing, the world became voiceless. It was deaf silent. The beaming sun hid behind the dark clouds and it never came back just like the girl's soul. As abruptly as it happened, just as abruptly did she leave this life.

The Kingdom of Sunrise became the Kingdom of Grief.

The king almost died of the loss of his daughter. The Kingdom was in mourning for years. While the people slowly got over the death of their beloved princess, the king was unable to. But something kept him going, perhaps the memory of his little daughter and the dear wife he loved so much. They lived in his heart for eternity.

Something felt strange—I was back in the throne room where I spent so much time as a child, sitting on the floor asking the maids to play with me, because I had no one else to play with. Only my father who was by my side every time his time let him. He was the king of Sunrise Kingdom; he was busy with the duties and responsibilities a king needed to keep.

The throne room looked the same, the main colors were light beige as the pillars held the ceiling that reached the sky, it looked like it had no end, and the beautiful landscape of the Sunrise Kingdom was painted on the walls by famous painters all around the world. There was one painting behind the throne, that was made out of glass.

This painting illustrated the most anticipated phenomenon in this Kingdom and it got its name because of it; the sunrise. This sunrise was beyond the imagination. When the sun decides to wake up early in the morning, it starts as usual; the sun rises, creating a breathtaking landscape, where it ascends from behind the big mountains, painting the land in yellow and orange colors. The mountains that are all around the Kingdom, embrace it, creating a protecting wall. But that is not all, as the sun slowly rises, suddenly it disappears and darkness swallows the Kingdom for a few minutes. This happens because the mountains are so huge that they block the rising sun, but as it climbs higher, the sun gradually reappears, making it look like the sun is rising two times in the Kingdom, painting the sky with light colors, awaking the folks to start their day as the natural miracle guides the way through the day.

This is the reason the Kingdom got its name, because miracles happen here and the people who live here believe in miracles.

And as I looked around the throne room, it felt like it wasn't real. As if I was in a dream, where I had no physical body. Then I spotted my father, sitting on the throne made out of glass, as his eyes were staring at the floor. His gaze was now dark and hopeless, that once was full of light and kindness. He was leaning to the side of the throne made out of glass, his head supported by his elbow. He looked like he wasn't in this world like he was lost in between the realms that were full of demons.

'Oh, my sweet, caring father, who was by my side since I was little, he protected me from the nightmares that hunted me in my sleep, from the people who tried to disown me from this world. He protected me from the world not letting the bad take over him. He was still a caring and lovable father, and seeing him like this made my heart break. I have never seen him in a melancholy, that made him forget where he was.

"My dear, father why are you so sorrowed?" I spoke with a soft voice, reaching my hand towards his face, where a single teardrop escaped his eyes. I reached my hands but as my fingertips were close to his face, it just melted into his wrinkled face.

"Oh, my precious little daughter…" My father sobbed into his hands; my heart shattered into pieces seeing him like this.

"I'm here, father, look at me." I wanted to lift his head to look at me, but my hands had no grip, it went through my father's face like it wasn't even there.

I was frozen in place, time stopped ticking, and my finger froze to his face where the teardrop fell over it like it wasn't even there. I looked down at my body, it was still me…but— something was wrong. My hands traveled to my chest, waiting for the familiar pumping of my chest—it did not come. Then I glanced at the throne where I could see my reflection and I saw myself but I was as white as a swan, my skin looking pale as I touched my cheek, the once pink lips were gone, almost looking white with a hint of light blue, my cheeks that were always blushing of how warm I felt, now gone. I was wearing a white dress that almost melted into my skin. The warmth of my body that the sun always filled up, now felt like the cold winter that always hunted the Kingdom with its icy weather and dark sky.

Once I was the embodiment of summer, now I looked like the cruel winter. It made me realize—I was not alive.

The king just couldn't get over his sweet little daughter's passing. It was torturing in a way that made him feel like it was not worth living anymore. He remained alone in the world he created alongside his daughter. They created this Kingdom together...and now the light of the Kingdom was not living with them anymore. The sun did rise two times in the morning, but its light faded away the longer the king's daughter passed away. The Kingdom went into deep grief, the once happy folks that went around the streets singing joyfully, now passed by each other not even looking at each other.

The king stood on the balcony of his massive castle, towering over the landscape like a shadow. Yet, it offered the people a safe haven, a place they could always run to whenever they felt unsafe. And that was the purpose of the king, so his people would gladly run to him every time they needed help because he wanted to help.

But looking down at his people, walking on the streets without joy, the sun not shining as bright as it used to be. It was like the weather was cooperating with people's emotions—who became slowly emotionless, which led the Kingdom to let the darkness embrace it through the dark clouds that never appeared there before.

The King had reached his limit—he would not abandon his people, nor allow his beloved daughter to die. He knew he had to ask for a favor. 

And that favor led the King to ride beyond his Kingdom to a wicked witch, who hid in the depths of the Sea of Tears. The Sea of Tears were piled up by the tears of people who only cried because of joy, they could make a wish if they cried, but only if it was because they were happy. The ones who were heartbroken, and mournful, had no chance in there, they needed to seek happiness just to wish for their deepest desires.

 The King and the witch encountered once, when the moon broke into two and when the stars poured like rain from the bright sky. The King saved the witch from a monster that wanted to suck the life out of her.

So, the witch owned him one. And the king went to ask for that favor. It almost took one year to find the witch and to make a deal with her.

Months later the king announced to his people a miracle that no one believed was possible.

My dearest people, He shouted as he was standing on the balcony of his castle full of grief.

Our Kingdom lost something so precious that is impossible to replace; our princess who is solely going to live in our hearts forever.

That is what I assumed, could make me live more than one day; but it was not enough for my breaking heart, I couldn't stand the pain anymore.

I struck a deal with someone so I could see my sweet daughter once more, perhaps even have her by our sides forever.

However, I need your dearest support in that; the witch of the Sea of Tears created a doll for me that looks exactly like my daughter. She helped me create my daughter, but there is a predicament.

My daughter's soul can find a home in the doll's plush heart, but it will only awaken if it hears pure music played on an instrument that once resonated with a passion beyond this world. 

This is the only way we could bring back our princess. I count on every one of you.

Let us bring her home, together!

Yunho’s pov

It was almost half a decade ago, that she died. The world has not been the same since. It went dark, happiness just stopped existing. Especially for me. She was the light in my miserable days, she was the person who melted my cold heart whenever she danced to the sounds coming from my violin. It made both of us burn with passion for music.

But she was gone, and it felt like the music died with her too.

I haven't been playing since that day. I just couldn't get myself to play on my violin, because it reminds me of her and my heart aches physically if I think about her. Because even though I played the violin, she made the music coming from it, live. It was magical when she danced. I always imagined her, with colours sparkling around her, as she spun around to the sound of my violin. As her big, blue eyes closed to feel the music, as her rosy lips curved up, as she always beamed happiness, the pink ballet shoes on his feet, that were worn out from the constant dancing, but she loved it so much, she would've never changed it to a new one.

I played on the violin since I could walk, I loved it because it made me disconnect from the world. I needed that, my father was beating me almost every evening, as he always came home drunk as a skunk, I didn't do anything but he just hit me and shouted into my face that the reason why our mother left us was me.

The reason is still a mystery why my mother left us, and I think I will never find it out. I needed to take care of my little brother and save him from our father, who slowly killed the humanity inside of him, from the wound our mother left behind.

So, I started to play the violin on the streets, hoping I could make a living from it. At first, people just stared at me. What did a little boy like me do on the streets with an old violin?

But as I started to play, they snapped their heads toward me, surprised at how good I was. People enjoyed my music and I enjoyed the attention and money I got.

And then one day a little girl came. When I saw her while I was playing, I couldn't breathe. She looked mesmerizing and when she started dancing, I felt like my heart was going to explode. We became friends from that day, as music connected our souls. We were inseparable, we learned a lot of things from each other, we played around a lot, we fought, then laughed. She was the sun in my dark world, even though we were living in Sunrise Kingdom, even though we saw the sun rise two times a day, she was my sunrise. And as she died, there was no sun for me anymore to rise.

It was almost three years ago, since the King announced the miracle, that the doll comes to life if you play an instrument with passion. When I heard it, I finally felt a little hope crawl through my soul. What is it, if not destiny, when music was the thing that connected us? I was so happy I could bring her back; I was sure if I played for this doll on my violin, she was going to come back to me. I didn't even think about the fact it might not happen, because it seemed so obvious, that I was the one who needed to get her back.

But she did not come back, she didn't even move a little. I was so desperate to bring her back, but when she didn't move, I just got so disappointed, in myself, in music, and in the King for giving us hope. I felt so angry I just couldn't control my feelings and I broke my violin into pieces along with my heart. Music was the only thing that connected us, but she was not here and I just couldn't play anymore, so I just left the pieces of my violin in the old room where the doll's blue eyes just stared at me unmoving, and I left not even looking back.

It was the fifth anniversary of her death; I was heading to the Lake of Freedom. It was our place with Y/N. We always played, danced, and argued here, it was special to both of our hearts and we knew we would find the other here if it was needed. This was the reason I came here every year on the day she died. It felt like she was there with me like a piece of her stayed in this place not being able to move on.

The lake was especially beautiful today. It was surrounded by colourful trees, as autumn was near the corner. It was a mixture of red, orange, and brown colours, and the leaves fell right into the lake, like feathers, as life slowly died out of it. The dead leaf falls upon the Lake of Freedom, finding its way out from the prison that is hanging on a tree for an eternity flowing away just to drown in the dark depths of the lake.

This was how I exactly felt since she died, I just couldn't find happiness anymore in my life. What could I do when the light that kept me going was now gone? How is it possible to move on? When the darkness that calls me is more comforting than trying to find the light, it's easier to just be and drown the emptiness of my chest.

"Excuse me, boy, for interrupting your train of thought…" I heard a voice coming from behind as I was sitting on the rock that we called 'The Theater' with Y/N, which is the theater of our imaginations.

I turned towards the source of the voice and I spotted an old man, standing with a white sack hanging from his right shoulder, his face was wrinkled from the ages, his back humped from, I assumed, the constant carrying things, he seemed he was a wanderer, who had his whole life packed into a rusty and big sack.

"Yes? How can I help you, sir?" I answered kindly, showing him respect.

"Can I ask you a favor, boy?" He coughed while approaching me slowly.

"Of course!"

"You seem like someone who can play on a violin." He eyed me up and down, as I was wearing my worn-out white shirt, with some laces on it, paired with black pants and my worn-out shoes.

"I haven't been playing in years, and I do not plan to," I stated. There was just no point in it anymore.

"Can you make one last exception for me and my wife?" He asked, deep emotions like grief and resignation playing on his wrinkled face. He saw my confused look so he continued, "This is the place where my wife died." He stated as his eyes wandered away to the dark lake. "We were in our late twenties when we were here with my wife. We played around, chasing the other, laughing around. We felt free, just as the lake's name says. But soon it became the Lake of Suffering because suddenly all I saw was my wife running away from me as I was chasing her, she got so excited she didn't see where she was stepping, she fell, and instantly hit the back of her head…" The old man's eyes welled up with tears, "She fell into the lake and it was too late for me to save her, I was too far away."

My breath was stuck in my throat as I imagined the traumatic story the old man told me. It's interesting how a place where you feel free and yourself, becomes a torture, like a prison with no windows to the world, just the dark.

"My condolences, sir." I tilted my head down a little as a sign of my sympathy. We both lost someone special in our hearts.

"She loved to play the violin, she always looked so beautiful doing it. And her music…it was nothing compared to this world." The old man stared into the lake as he said, a little life burning in him as he remembered his wife playing the instrument.

"I would be glad to play for her." I couldn’t believe what I said, but for once it wasn't for me, or Y/N. It was for a man who lost his lover—well I wasn't far away from that as well.

The old man's eyes sparkled as I walked next to him, seeing the end of the violin peaking from his sack. He nodded as I reached my hands towards it at that, and took it into my hands. It felt nice holding a violin after years, it felt like a piece of life got back into me. And the violin looked so beautiful. The touch of it felt like it was made out of rosewood, painted with the color of gold. It had sharp features with the right gracefulness. I have never seen a violin this mesmerizing.

When I lifted it under my chin and started to play on the string of the violin with the bow, I instantly closed my eyes and with that, I closed the world out as well. I played the melody that I played on the day I met Y/N. And it felt like I jumped back in time to that day and lived it again like a miracle. I saw her face clearly as the melody flew out of my violin on the street. The way her eyes sparkled because of the joy she felt. It took me back to that time and my heart started to beat as fast as that day. I watched her dance gracefully, but as my music got wilder and louder, she danced towards me and suddenly she disappeared in the black fog.

I immediately opened my eyes and the black fog wasn't in the vision I saw, it was all around us, the lake completely invisible, and the old man was standing next to me staring into the darkness like something bewitched him. I wanted to stop playing, but he pointed toward the dark fog and said, 'Look, don't you dare stop!' without even glancing at me. I averted my gaze from the old man to the fog as I was still playing, the melody got a little deeper, and sadder when I saw something sparkle between the dark mist. It seemed like a butterfly but bigger and it was illuminated with something that did not belong to this realm. Then it started to dance towards me, fighting through the darkness as some hands tried to grab it, but they remained empty-handed as they fought through the demons and got closer to me. I just couldn't breathe when that thing was fully visible.

It was her.

The girl I was craving for, the girl I lost and never got back. The girl who visited me in my nightmares just to turn them into sweet dreams. There she was, the girl I loved with my whole heart.

But something was wrong. It wasn't her entirely. She was pale, her used-to-be red cheeks were now as white as a wall, her rosy lips were now blue like the sky, and her eyes did not spark with life. It was her soul, that was slowly drying out.

"Y/N!" I whispered through my lips as I was frozen in place, but my unconscious still kept playing on the violin, because I knew if I stopped, she was going to disappear for good.

"Oh, Yunho, dear, I knew you could save me from this torture…" I heard her weak voice as she flew closer to me, she looked exactly like a ghost as she reached her hands towards my warm cheeks. I didn't feel her touch and as I looked into her eyes, it was full of tears that flew down her pale cheeks and it never landed on the ground.

I was breathing quickly, my heart pounded in my chest, the blood in my veins racing through my body, catching on fire as so many emotions got back into me that I did not feel since she died.

"Listen old man! You have to hurry up to the castle and call the King! Tell him to bring the doll he made for his daughter to the lake! Tell him Yunho might know how to bring his daughter back…" I told the old man who was standing next to me in awe.

"Hurry up, we don't have time!" I yelled at the man, as I started to get impatient, I didn't know how much she could keep up, I didn't want to lose her again.

I was still playing, I didn't even notice what I was playing, my hands were hurting but I did not care because all I could focus on was the beautiful face in front of me.

"I am glad you finally found me, Yunho." She smiled at me but it wasn't real, it felt like she just wanted to make me believe everything was okay.

"I am sorry it took me so long, Y/N…" One teardrop escaped my eye as she immediately wanted to wipe it off, but still nothing.

"No, Yunho, I'm okay, everything will be okay…" She whispered as tears fell on her cheeks like a waterfall.

I just couldn't watch her struggle anymore I knew she was fighting between the real and the dead world, she just needed a hand to pull her back to our life.

So, I just dropped the violin as sudden silence fell on us all I was hearing was her screaming, "No! Yunho don't st—," She couldn’t finish the sentence because she disappeared.

My heart was in my ears I didn't hear anything as I looked down at my hands. I was grabbing onto something. "Come back to me…please," I whispered into the dark fog, that slowly started to disappear. I felt something hold onto my hands, and as I looked down a hand was interlaced with mine and slowly a body started to appear in front of me, that looked human-like, that belonged to this world.

It was her again. But her hands now felt warm, her big, blue eyes were sparkling with life, her cheeks were red and his lips were back to their natural rosy color. She came back to me and I couldn't believe my eyes, she was so mesmerizingly beautiful like she did not belong to this world. But I knew she did belong to this world, beside me.

When I saw him, it felt like it was just the usual nightmares that I had dreamt through the years. My nightmares were always about him playing peacefully, then dark hands grabbing him, just to drown him in the dark mist. But the hands never came, he was still there playing with his eyes closed and it felt like we jumped back in time when we first met at the street. The sweet scenario played in front of me when the real nightmare started.

The black hands appeared, but they wanted me, not Yunho. I would gladly sacrifice myself for him if it came to him living peacefully. The hands grabbed me, I got used to it, I didn't know how long I had been in between the worlds but it felt like an eternity, it felt like I was never going to escape from here, I couldn't even die, let alone live. It was torture being there, and seeing my loved ones feel sad because of me, seeing them give up on life just because I died. It was not fair, because I screamed for them to let me go and live instead of me. But they just never listened and they slowly gave in to the darkness. My father followed the same path as Yunho.

And it hurt, it felt like I didn't matter because I did not want this. I wanted them to move on, but they just couldn't and then I decided, no matter what, I was going to come back to the real world, even if I had to fight against my demons. It was a long way and I knew I could trust Yunho; he was my only hope in the dark world I existed in.

And when he looked at me with those big doe eyes. I knew it was worth all the struggle I went through, it was worth fighting with the dark hands that got me in a chokehold, they chained me to this world between the living and the dead, they were feeding from my memories, from my screams, from me. But now, I only needed my last power to leave the demons behind. They were clinging to my back when Yunho saw me, they were trying to pull me back to the dark, whispering that I could never go back, that I was a fool, but I fought against them and didn't let them bring me back.

 The melodies escaping from his violin started to feed me with power as I reached my hands towards his face that I starved to touch, but never got to touch. He looked at me like I was his whole world, his face looked tired but full of care like the little Yunho I got to know.

Then he suddenly disappeared and a black hand on my mouth pulled me back to the dark fog, and I got lost in it again, drowning in the feeling of void, the feeling of nothing. I wanted to scream but the hand did not pull away as it pulled me deeper and deeper into the dark sea, where more demons awaited.

But something anchored me to the real world because they were struggling to pull me deeper, a bunch of black hands were pulling me by my right hand, but something so strong was holding my left hand, that it almost broke me in half. The anchor that pulled my left hand was so much stronger as I felt more distance between the black hands and me, they tried to reach me, but it was too late because sudden light hit my eyes that blinded me and I felt something hit my chest with a power that was the last blow I needed to get back into the real world. 

Then I fell into two welcoming warm hands and I felt like after an eternity of struggling I was finally at home again, in between the hands of the boy I fell in love with the moment I saw him play the instrument with a passion that immediately fired my little heart, and that fire never seemed to burn out, even when I wasn't alive, the burning of my chest made me keep going, made me feel even though it was impossible in between the two worlds. I did feel, that something invisible connected me to the real world, which led me to Yunho's warm heart, where the same flame was burning in his chest.

"You finally came back to me." I heard his sweet voice, and as my heart started to beat impossibly fast, I felt like I might die again.

"I came back to you." Then I kissed him on his sweet lips because that was the last thing, I needed to feel alive after being in nothing but cold without any feelings.  I finally woke up from a never-ending dream just so I could keep dancing to his melodies. I needed him to feel alive because he brought me back to life, that was impossible in this world.

But as you can see nothing is impossible in the Sunrise Kingdom, miracles do exist—because the sun rises two times as well; just as I did.

-Ateez masterlist-

[angstflayer-council]

July Drabble #6- Dear Eddie

The ground is cold where Eddie kneels, but he barely registers the feeling as he stares at the grave in front of him.

Robin had handed him an envelope. He didn’t want to open it. In his gut, he knew what it was.

He only opens it when he needs to distract himself from the sound of Dustin weeping.

A single piece of paper emerges with Steve’s sloppy, rushed handwriting.

Dear Eddie,

I’m writing this before we face this Vecna creep again, and I have a feeling things aren’t going to work out for me this time.

So if you’re reading this, I’m dead. Please thank Robin for giving you this and tell her I love her.

I have to rush this because you keep nudging me, asking what I’m writing. Which is annoying by the way.

Yes, I’m going to say that beyond the grave.

But the real reason I’m writing this is to confess that I love you.

Yeah. I was shocked too. But being close to death makes you realize things.

I probably didn’t tell you because I’m fucking terrified so let me fantasize.

I picture us running away together. Taking the government’s shut the fuck up money and starting over somewhere only the kids and Robin know about.

We’d adopt six little nuggets. You have a crazy amount of energy so you’d tire them out while I watch until you drag me into the mess. (I’d act all pissed but everyone would know I love it.)

And I’d romance you so hard. I’d take my time to memorize every tattoo until I could trace each detail with my eyes closed. I’d love you through thick and thin. I’d always buy you flowers beer? after a fight. I’d love the hell out of you.

And I’d die for you.

I’m sorry if I didn’t tell you this when I was alive. You can hit my grave and call me a coward.

Just know I love you. And I wish that we could’ve had a future together.

And please stop nudging people so much.

I still love you though.

Take care of Dustin and Robin for me.

Yours always,

Steve Harrington

[]Eddie lets the tears flow freely, knowing there’s nothing he can do.

He reaches up a wrinkled hand to trace over the engraving.

“Our Hero” Steve Harrington April 24, 1967 November 6, 2049 Beloved husband, father, grandfather, friend, and babysitter. You will be missed.

Steve hadn’t died during their final battle. And Eddie spent sixty-three happy years with him living out the life Steve had written after he confessed his love midst the battle.

And after everything, the universe finally made its peace with Steve and allowed him to peacefully pass in his sleep.

Although he doesn’t know it, the universe will soon pay Eddie the same respect.

As for Dustin and Robin, they take care of each other and are glad that the two people they love the most are finally at rest together.

[sapphicseasapphire]

Ravio my beloved!! I have some lore to share! I’m sorry if I’m repeating myself but I want to make sure I have everything together! I’m very heavily considering throwing Ravio in with the rest of the Cryptid Chain since 1) he’s my little guy and 2) he’s a Link, right??? Technically?? Let me know if you’d be interested in seeing him included in the adventure!

Anyway, yeah. Lore under the cut! (This one gets rough so be warned. Blood and gore and violence against children)

Ravio was born to a small pod of Mer that lived in Lorule’s sea. He was always such a happy child, excitedly babbling about everything he could see, playing with his friends, swimming freely under the watchful eyes of his family.

(Pods of Mer are very close. While they are not all blood related, they’re very close! It’s pretty communal: for example, Ravio had parents but was raised by every adult in the pod. While he didn’t have any siblings, the other children were all basically his brothers and sisters. In such a tight knit community, trust is very important. It’s one of the things that makes the Mer so strong).

Since Mer are 100% aquatic and never leave the ocean, they were oblivious to the horrors that had taken place in the land of Lorule. Years ago, their Triforce had been destroyed, which corrupted everything that resided there. Aquili, being amphibious, were affected by this. While most of them were in the ocean at the moment of the Triforce’s destruction, those that were on land were overcome by evil, transforming into horrible monsters that would come to be known as Ku. These Ku were ruthless, attacking everything in sight, both on land and in the sea.

As the years passed, their numbers grew, along with the surge of other monsters that plagued the land. Lorule fell to ruin, but the ocean remained lively. Of course, it became dangerous with even more monsters. In this world, instead of turning against each other, the Mer and the remaining Aquili issued a truce, agreeing to work together to fend off their common enemy.

Ravio’s pod was part of the alliance, but he was too young to remember it. Back then, all that mattered to him was his parents, his friends, and collecting little trinkets to play with. Children were sheltered from such issues, and while Ravio grew up in the throws of war, he never looked the enemy in the eye. Aquili didn’t often visit his pod- if they did, they met with the adults. Ravio never met any. Even with his life upturned by the Ku and other monsters, he never knew bloodshed or violence.

He was only five years old when that changed.

It was a quiet night, peaceful, no different from any other. He slept soundly in his father’s arms, a soft kelp doll snug in his hands. He was sleeping so deeply that he didn’t wake when the screaming started. He didn’t wake when his father’s arms tightened around him. He didn’t even wake when the scent of bloody water met his little nose.

No, what woke him was when he was suddenly thrown into open water. In an instant, the arms that held him were gone. His little pocket of warmth and comfort, gone. His father had thrown him. The force of it ripped his doll out of his tiny hands and his eyes snapped open instinctively.

At the time, he didn’t comprehend what he was seeing. But when he’d remember that night years later, he’d wish he’d kept his eyes closed.

The water was cloudy and red, and smelled like iron and sick. Screams rung out from all sides, horrible and aching. And in front of him was his father… and a Ku biting into his shoulder. Ravio’s father flailed in the open water, and the plumes of red coming from where the monster’s mouth had closed around his flesh only got darker and darker.

The beast did not let go.

He met his father’s eyes. Eyes that were pleading, begging, screaming for him to get out of here.

Red.

Red.

Red.

Ravio was frozen.

And he watched as more Ku swam to the scene, all of them bloodied. Their eyes were crazed, their minds warped by a corruption that Ravio was too young to understand. They swarmed the area, and two more grabbed his father. The child, frozen as he was by fear, could only watch as they tore him to shreds.

He watched his father die at the hands of the Ku, and then he watched as those crazed eyes fell upon him.

They stalked closer, slowly, as if they knew they could take their time. Ravio choked on the bloody water, his eyes burning with tears as he watched their approach. They were going to kill him. He was going to die, just like his father, just like the rest of his pod, and there was nothing he could do about it.

A clawed hand grabbed him by his tail and he screamed.

Red.

He was pulled forward, claws tearing his flesh, and the five year old was helpless to stop it.

Red.

A monstrous face loomed above him, the clouded water doing little to hide the jagged teeth and crazed eyes of his attacker. Ravio cried out and squeezed his eyes shut tight, squirming in its grasp-

Red. Red, red, red-

Before he could feel the bite of those awful teeth, the Ku above him let out an awful scream and released him. Ravio screamed again as the claws were torn from his tail, but he opened his eyes just in time to see the beast under attack. By now, the Ku was far enough away from him that the murkiness of the water blurred any details, but he’d recognize that silhouette anywhere: it was his mother. His mother, tearing at the Ku with nothing but her fists. His mother, bathed in bloody water. His mother, injured and exhausted and winning.

The Ku went down after one hell of a fight, and when it was over, Ravio’s mother was looking worse for wear. But she weakly made her way over to him, urgency in her eyes. Ravio cried as she pressed a kiss to his little forehead. He clung to her- and she held him. But only for a moment.

She looked between his injured tail and his pale, terrified face. And then she brushed his hair out of his eyes and leaned in close.

“It’s going to be okay, Ravio,” she had said, and even though her voice trembled, he believed her. “You’re going to be okay.”

Ravio could say nothing in response, choking back sobs as she held him.

“I’m so sorry,” she whispered against the top of his head. “I’m so sorry, baby. I need you to listen. Can you do that for me? Are you listening?”

Ravio nodded against her chest, still unable to speak.

“I love you, Ravio. I love you so much.” She squeezed him closer. “And when I tell you to, I need you to swim away as fast as you can. Do you hear me? As fast as you can. Don’t stop for anything.”

And that’s when she let go of him.

“Mama,” he sobbed, and she hesitated before she turned to face the remaining Ku. There were tears in her eyes as she swam upward, her shadow falling protectively over her son.

“I love you,” she said one more time, “Now go. Go, Ravio. Now!”

And then the Ku were upon her.

Red.

Red.

Red.

Little Ravio turned and fled the scene, swimming as fast as his injured tail could take him. He swam through little tunnels in the rock and coral, ensuring that the bulky Ku would not be able to follow him. He swam until the water was clear of blood, until he could see the rippled patterns in the sand at the bottom of the seafloor, until the sun’s light filtered in through the waves above.

He was in shallower water than he’d ever been in before.

His tail had stopped bleeding at some point in the night, but it was painful. He could not keep going forever. And where… where was he supposed to go? Back to his pod?

Ravio did not stop swimming. He was tired. He was hurt. And he was confused. Later, he’d admit that he didn’t comprehend what he had seen. He fully expected his parents to appear out of clear water and take him home. He didn’t understand that they were gone… he’d never known death before that point.

Well. His parents did not appear. Neither did anyone else from his pod.

His mother had told him to keep going. To not stop for anything. And so, he continued. His heart racing in his chest, he swam on. He didn’t know how long he was swimming for. The water got shallower and shallower until he blinked and suddenly he could touch the bottom of the sea floor with his little hands.

Ravio’s wide eyes scanned the Surface. There were no monsters with jagged teeth and sharp claws and bulky bodies. No clouds of red. No screaming. The small child lifted his head above the water, holding his breath, and was greeted with the soothing sounds of waves crashing against the shoreline.

The ocean wasn’t safe. Not anymore.

And so, with trembling arms, Ravio pulled himself onto the beach. The sunlight directly on his skin was uncomfortable, and the sand was rough against his scales. He coughed water from his gills and wheezed as burning air entered his lungs. For several minutes, Ravio’s entire body was seething in pain. He desperately gasped for air that hurt to breathe, and his skin burned as it dried.

But once the initial discomfort passed, he felt… numb. Screaming echoed in his ears. The scent of blood lingered in his nose. When he closed his eyes, he saw his father’s desperation. His mother’s sacrifice. He saw them die, over and over again.

Red.

That’s when the tears started anew. And goddesses, when they started, they didn’t stop. His body heaved with sobs, his throat aching and his face slick with tears. He sat and cried for what felt like hours, but even looking back on it, he has no idea how long it truly was. Only that at some point, a curious sound caught his attention.

It was like the click of two rocks coming together underwater, but higher pitched. Melodic. It reminded him of his pod’s songs. And as he looked down to find the source of such a sound, ge was surprised to see a small Surface creature.

Ravio, being a small child, had never seen Shrface creatures before, so he had no way of knowing that what sat beside him was a “bird.” Only that it was tinier than he was and looked just as lost as he did.

He named the bird Sheerow, and he would become Ravio’s closest friend. A companion, a guide, a light in the dark. An anchor to cling to as his world crumbled around him.

They would be inseparable from that point onward.

. . .

Ravio would go on to become quite the figure in Lorule! He was discovered living in the woods by a local blacksmith, who brought him to the castle. (A strange child in the forest? Forests that are overtaken by monsters? Suspicious).

But the king determined that he was no monster, and sent him to live with the blacksmith and his wife. He never ventured back into the ocean- he never had the luxury of soaking in salt water. No, he stayed firmly on the ground where it was safe, even if the blacksmith and his wife could never be his family. He barely ever left their house until he was eleven, and even then he’d only go to the castle and back.

For years, he and Sheerow would frequent the castle, having deemed it one of the few safe places they knew of. They’d make deliveries for the smith, then stay a little longer just to talk to the princess. Hilda would be queen one day, and Ravio knew that she’d do anything to aid her suffering kingdom.

Anything.

Ravio never quite trusted her.

Her eyes were Red.

He was seventeen years old when his distrust for Her Highness was validated. After her father’s death, she rose to the throne and her desperation to help her people became palpable. She’d made a mistake in trusting a vile man named Yuga, and sought to steal another world’s Triforce in order to bring peace back to their own. Ravio, knowing the damage that this would cause to that other world, was against this idea wholeheartedly. And when Princess Hilda decided to go through with her plan, Ravio knew he couldn’t stick around.

He couldn’t stand idly by and witness another massacre.

But he couldn’t fight. No matter how hard he tried, he could not raise a sword against his princess. He couldn’t stomach the sight of an arrow or the sound of a bomb’s fuse. The thought if such violence brought him right back to the ocean, bloody water, screaming from every direction.

In the end, Ravio was too much of a coward to fight on his own. And so, he set out to find someone that could help him. He took all of his supplies and stole a relic from the castle, a bracelet that allowed him to slip into the second dimension and crawl through the cracks between worlds.

He found himself in a land called Hyrule, having emerged from the walls of a sanctuary. And that’s where he found a boy his age garbed in green and unconscious on the ground. Ravio rushed over, and upon determining that he was alive and well, he took him to his own house.

Well… what would have been his house if he had been in Lorule. He’s not in Lorule anymore.

He’s…. A long way from home.

. . .

Some notes!

• Okay I know that my description of that massacre was really bad but Ravio’s memories of that night are EXTREMELY hazy. He was literally five years old. Details are lost, but he remembers that feeling. He still has nightmares about it.

• Whenever Ravio feels unsafe or uncomfortable in any way for any reason, he says “Red.” A topic of conversation that makes him uncomfortable? Red. Just saw something that kind of messed him up (monsters, aggression, etc)? Red. Woke up from a nightmare? Red. This usually lets people that he needs some space/needs comfort. He’s VERY vocal about when he needs a break. We’re proud of him.

• My guy’s so against violence of any kind. He’s NOT a fighter. He’s clever enough that if he finds himself in a dangerous situation, he’s usually able to talk his way out of it. If he’s not able to talk his way out? He has a boyfriend that’s more than happy to do violence.

• Going off of that last point, Ravio goes to Legend for everything. I know I said he’s against violence, but if it’s an actually dangerous situation, Ravio gets Legend immediately. He’s more than happy to provide Legend with the weapons and tools he’d need to win- he’s not about to watch Legend get hurt on his behalf. But Legend’s not about to let anyone mess with Ravio for any reason

• Unless Ravio scammed them

• But he won’t let Ravio get hurt

• Legend’s so gay for him but it’s a big secret shhhhh don’t tell anybody (everybody knows).

• Also Legend’s very protective over him. Ledge has a pretty icy demeanor but the moment Ravio says “Red,” all bets are off. Hugs. Cuddles. No one is allowed to judge him for how soft he gets around Ravio. Also if anyone ever tries to harm him, they will meet the business end of his sword.

• For as protective as Legnd is of Ravio, Ravio is JUST as protective over Legend. Legend is not nearly as… eh, we’ll say emotionally aware as Ravio is. If something upsets him, he doesn’t simply take a step back and say a safe word. Legend is a fighter, and that often means bottling things up until they explode. While Ravio is against fighting, he’s not against confrontation. Even if Legend is too worried about being perceived as weak for telling someone he’s upset, Ravio just seems to… know. And he’s not afraid to tell whoever upset him to back off. Or if he upset him, he’s not afraid to apologize and give him space. If no one in particular has upset Legend (just… hero stuff. Missing Marin. The pressure of saving the world over and over again. Those kinds of things have a way of getting to people), then Ravio is the first to take Legend into his arms and just hold him.

• Ravio is the only person that Legend will let hold him without any complaint. Not even a half hearted attempt to argue. Ravio opens his arms and Legend just falls in and curls up.

• This is sweet and all but they definitely still banter and argue and stuff (mostly lightheartedly). What I said before in this post about Legend calling Ravio his roommate and “little rat” is still true. He likes Ravio but you’re not supposed to just KNOW THAT. He’s! Big scary Hero of Legend!! Untouchable!!! Strong!!! This rat man cannot crack his tough exterior!!! (Ravio calls him Mr. Hero and gives him a cool bracelet one (1) time and he’s head over heels)

• For more information about that war, I made this post a while back!

• I’ll talk about this more in Legend’s origin, but it is FUNDAMENTALLY WRONG for Mer to have to live on land. Like it’s killing them slowly. Especially Ravio, who doesn’t have the opportunity to soak as often as he should and hasn’t been in the ocean since he was five years old. Ravio’s first time back in the ocean happens much later, with Legend. And he’s terrified. He has some… not so great memories, and Legend understands that. Ravio and Legend are both fearful of Aquili and even other Mer soldiers. But honestly? The biggest thing he’s afraid of about going back into the ocean? Is that Sheerow can’t follow him.

• Emotional support bird. More effective than you’d think. Rav and Sheerow are absolutely inseparable.

This is…. Incredibly long. Let me know if you have any questions! I’m happy to talk about my little guys. (Seriously, I think Ravio is my second favorite after Sky).

[ficsinhistory]

I think the problem with S3 of The Bear was that ok the mess, the coldness and the distancing and the plots in general...if it seemed like it was intentional. If they had a long term plan and this was a bait to change course later like good stories do. But it wasn't, it was just poorly written (and a bit racist).

For example, we could see Sydcarmy being separated because of Carm's worsening mental health and him wanting to convince himself that Claire is better because he doesn't want to make mistakes with the kitchen family and Syd anymore, more as a legitimate plot point and less as Storer wanting to sink Sydcarmy at any cost (which was a stupid idea and I don't even need to say why) if it didn't completely sideline Syd and obliterate her and Carmy's character in the process. Because that man may be chaotic and stupid as he may be, but Carm always cared about Syd's well-being at the end of the day.

Even after doing something stupid, Carmy always had this worry about asking how she felt about it. And that's what made their relationship different and the heart of the show. He can be distant and cold, but ignoring Syd's wishes? Doesn't give her credit when he was the one who asked her to be her partner in the first place??? The same person who recognized in 3x01 that the credit for them getting through the family and friends' night was solely hers, because he knew he had screwed up everything and didn't deserve to be part of it? Not only that, him being an idiot to Natalie, yelling about money when she was pregnant? Even though she was his only living sister? And that he started going to therapy at her request even though he didn't want to after realizing that yes, she was right? And not going to see his niece because he was more worried about Claire?? The woman who, let's be honest, he didn't like. I mean, he a panic attack thinking on HER!!! And now she is his peace??? Using suspiciously the term that the Sydcarmy fandom baptized Syd, almost as an affront. (And let's remeber Claire was pretty happy talking how she almost kill a teenage. I was bawling my eyes if was me. Weirdo (derogatory))

And speaking of her, Sydney Adamu, my beloved and favorite character, what did they do to you? She was thrown into the corner so much that I couldn't believe it. She is a protagonist and ok, she and Carmy are on tense terms, but why not take advantage of the fact that they are more apart to delve deeper into her and her relationships, find out more about her. Her relationship with her mother and father? Any flashbacks, since there were so many, about Sheridan and how this still affects her? She and the rest of the members of The Bear, Nat, Richie. She should exist outside of Carmy in her own right, but they just threw her in there and gave screen time to Claire and the Faks and that sucks. Which leads to another point, why don't you talk more about the og members of The Bear. Okay, we had Napkins for Tina, fair enough. But what about Gary, Ebra, Many? Marcus, whose mother died barely had any weight? It left a bitter taste in the mouth. If they want to fix this, they're going to have a lot of work to do, because history has taken everything to an almost unsustainable level. It's okay to be a tragedy, but give us the rays of sunshine, so we can believe in the best. And we didn't have that. It was just going in circles and that could cost the entire story.

[colourstreakgryffin]

I saw that requests were open again, so I was wondering if I could request some hc's for a father Yoriichi and child reader

As you wish! This is insanely cute and I love iiittt~! Yoriichi is best papa and you can’t convince me otherwise

Father! Tsugikuni Yoriichi

Yoriichi was so unbelievably relieved that you survived the demon attack. You were a tiny helpless newborn, but your mother saved your life by hiding you away. Yoriichi managed to dispose of the demon and thought he lost you too but he heard your crying

Yoriichi’s heart exploded as he embraced your little body and cried his heart out. His child is alive, he still has somebody he loves dearly, though, he lost his wife to have his child

Yoriichi is very protective over you, no matter your age. He lost his wife to a demon attack and you barely survived that same attack so he must use all his strength to keep you safe

Yoriichi isn’t use to be affectionate, but for you, he’ll give you kisses, hugs and so much more. He especially likes cuddling you as he cooks dinner. He could never feel more at peace then having his young child sleeping in his lap

Yoriichi doesn’t like talking to you about his job. He’d much prefer for you to think that he is in a safer environment then he actually is. As to not worry or scare you, he lies

Yoriichi enjoys going out to the fleet markets with you at times. He may be a silent and private man but seeing the way you awe at every sight and point out people’s kimonos, he just feels alive

Yoriichi feels bad about leaving you every single day to complete his samurai duties. He would prefer to bring you with him but with all the demons prowling, he’d be putting you in danger

Yoriichi’s love is completely endless, he can’t bring himself to merely imagine a world without you, his beloved baby. He has lost a lot in his life so he’ll make sure to keep you

Yoriichi is the type of father to study all your friends and proclaim ‘you can’t date anybody until you’re 50’. He isn’t being totally serious but he hates when any girl/boy try hit on you. You’re too young!

Yoriichi has become quite organised and hygienic since he had you. He takes care of all your belongings and cleans the house regularly so you can’t lose anything or get hurt. It’s another form of his protectiveness

Yoriichi is definitely a playful parent. He can play imagine quite well, and he likes going out to explore with you in the nearby woods

Yoriichi remembers everything you like all the time and he’ll always cook your favourite dinners as to make each day special for his precious child. He doesn’t need a reason, he just does it

Yoriichi has specific times for you that he never fails to stick to. Times to eat, times to play, times to go to bed and days to go shopping. This way, you’re very healthy and have good habits

Yoriichi is a good father, who is devoted to his child. He won’t let them go, he won’t let them get hurt and he’ll be with them until the very end. He needs his child to keep feeling such peace, happiness and love

“You’re my baby and you’ll always have my heart, darling. My purpose is to keep you safe and happy now, you see? I’m glad you understand, love. Do you wanna go home now? I’ll make your favourite”

[honey-minded-hivemind]

hear me out hear me out! Green au reader who is beloved by the primordial gods! Like Nyx-night, Erebus-Darkness, Thanatos-Death and Hypnos-Sleep!

Ohoho!!! I like it! And let's not forget Chaos!

Nyx is keeping them safe at night, showing them stars when they look out the windows or gaze at the stars... she's a calm, steady, constant force, who could crush the scientists amd guards like bugs if she could...

Erebus sends shadows to watch them, to paint stories on the walls for them in puppet shows and mock fights, and hiding them from danger if a scientist hears them sneaking around. He'd rip the shadows from those guards and puppeteer them to release those poor kids if he could...

Thanatos is careful, keeping special care of the dead children when they come to him, but letting them visit Reader to let them know they are okay, that they're amongst the fields of asphodel or elysium. Thanatos does speed up the death of the older or sick scientists, taking great pleasure to hurt them for all the experiments and samples they've procured from Reader and their friends...

Hypnos brings peace to Reader and the others when they sleep. Only peaceful dreams, filled with feasts and friends and They Of The Stars, all of them happy and having fun... One day it won't be a dream, Hypnos promises... one day they'll all be free, and their dreams will become reality... they just need more time...

Chaos, Mother/Father of All Great Ones, wishes to cradle Reader close, to comfort them, to comfort all their dear children and grandchildren and great-grands, to crush the puny mortals who make them beg for death, for relief, for help, for mercy... one day they and theirs will break free... and when they do... it will be the end of mankind, and a new age of the Gods...

(May I call you Ancient Anon? After thr Ancient Greek Gods!!!)

(I imagine Nyx is the night sky and galaxies in a humanoid shape, with black holes or novas for eyes...)

(Erebus changes shapes, having wings one minute, horns the next, a tail, or even great talons... any shadow that is, they can look like... even all of them at once, if he wishes...)

(Thantos is probably wrapped in tattered, ghostly black robes, with his face hidden... his hands are black, skeletal, and very long, tipped with sharp claws... six feathered wings can burst from his back, dark as night and as cold as death...)

(Hypnos is made of mists and clouds, always fuzzy at the edges, with hard to remember features, save for a soothing voice and soft robes...)

(Chaos is the void, the vastness of space, the emptiness of all beyond and beyond... they are vest seen as a larger than life shadowy figure, with the sun and moon as its eyes... its hair is the Milky Way... its jewelry the planets... its tears the stars...)

Wait... is Eros considered an ancient too? (Sometines he is, sometimes he isn't)

[kamisatomay018]

We are bound together, forever..

Kamisato Ayato x Female Reader

As promised, a fanfic on the legend of the red string of fate! The winner of the poll was Ayato! This will be very fluff and pretty lengthy since it is a one shot. I hope you enjoy!

The waves crashed against the shore, birds flew together in harmony and trees swayed to the rhythm of the wind. The sun shone brightly, the fresh scent of flowers was spread all across the atmosphere. People were out and about, cherishing the beautiful day. Couples walked hand in hand, a man plucked a sweet flower and handed it to his beloved, smiling as her cheeks blushed. Married couples took their small children to the beaches, collecting seashells together, standing hand in hand watching their kids build sandcastles. In the Grand Narukami Shrine, newlyweds sought the blessings of the Sacred Sakura tree and prayed to the Almighty Shogun, asking for her blessings so that their love would be eternal.

Ayato stood on a hill near his home, alone and still. He watched people in love, young and old, their faces shining in happiness. Everyone else moved forward with their beloved, yet there he stood, alone with only half a heart, and half a soul. To the people of Inazuma, the Yashiro Commissioner was a powerful man, kind yet stern, and the most eligible and wanted man in the eyes of every woman. He took his duties so seriously, he was a loyal servant to the Shogun, and his hard work had been recognised by her and by all the citizens of Inazuma. He had a beautiful home, his sweetest sister, money, power, respect and authority. Surely he didn’t need anything else?

But what no one else understood was that behind the mask that the Yashiro Commissioner wore, existed a young and lonely man called Ayato. For years he had stood alone and strong for his sister, fighting countless battles ever since his parents passed away unexpectedly, leaving the Kamisato clan and the Yashiro Commission in his hands. Only Ayato knew the sacrifices, insults and threats he had faced when the reputation of his clan was in danger. Only he knew how he found the courage to face it all, being so young and alone. He did it for his sister, for his parents whose dying wish was for him to protect his sister. He had fulfilled his promise, his sister had grown up to be the kindest and prettiest young woman, delicate yet so strong, the Shirasagi Himegimi of the Yashiro Commission. His clan was now the most powerful and most trusted by the Almighty Shogun.

But what about him? What about his happiness? Ayato had never let anyone see how lonely he was, how tired he felt. He needed a companion, someone to love, someone to call his better half who would stand by his side, take care of him and allow him to just be himself. In the land of eternity, love was found by a beautiful legend of the Red String Of Fate. It was said that the electro Archon had blessed her people with a partner who was bound to them by destiny. A partner who would love them endlessly, whose love would be eternal and unchanging forever. After every person turned 18, they would be able to find their soulmate. Ayato had heard all sorts of stories of people finding their soulmates for the first time. His mother had once told him that the first time she saw his father, time stood still, their hearts beat in sync and a delicate red string appeared, tied to her little finger and to his father’s thumb. His mother said that this string can stretch endlessly, it can get twisted and turned, but never can it snap. She had told him that the day he would lock eyes with his soulmate, he would feel euphoria, a feeling of peace and fulfilment like any other.

Ayato had a gentle heart, and after hearing the story of his parents’ love, both him and Ayaka had been so excited to find their soulmates. Alas, soon after Ayato turned 18, his parents passed away and he left every desire of his, solely focusing on his clan and the safety of his sister. But now he was almost 26, inazuma was at peace and the feeling of loneliness had begun to eat away on his soul. He had travelled all over inazuma, but never found his soulmate. His duties kept him tied to his homeland, and he knew he couldn’t travel all over teyvat to find his other half. He also wanted to know how it felt to fall in love. He was so torn by watching everyone around him fall in love. Even his sister had found her soulmate, who to Ayato’s delight was their most trusted friend Thoma. Ayato had watched as the delicate string had magically appeared around his sister and Thoma’s fingers, and his heart was filled with joy. It had been a long time since then, and Ayaka and Thoma’s love had only grown.

His friend Chisato had found her soulmate to be Kujou Kamaji, and their love had withstood every difficult that presented itself to them. Ayato felt his heart filled with an overwhelming amount of sadness as he stood there on that hill, watching people in love. Perhaps this was his doomed fate, to live alone forever. He had the option of marrying someone else, but he wouldn’t. If his destiny was tied to someone, then how could he possibly betray such a magical bond? Perhaps his soulmate was far away in another nation, and they would never have the chance to meet. Or perhaps she was already in love with someone else. Ayato had slowly started giving up, accepting that perhaps not everyone is so lucky to find their soulmate. He took a deep breath, and turned his head around to see his sister approaching him, giving her a soft smile in order to mask the sadness filled in his Lavender eyes.

“Brother…please talk to me, what’s wrong? You’ve been looking so forlorn lately, it hurts me to see you like this. Don’t hide your pain from me at least, please?” Ayato chuckled softly. Nothing could escape from his sister’s watchful eyes. He stared at the ocean, responding to her request. “Everybody’s falling in love, and I’m falling behind.” Ayaka could feel the sadness in her brother’s usually cheerful voice, the impact of his words hitting her hard. She embraced him gently. “I have faith that you will find your soulmate very soon brother. Im sure about it..” Ayato caressed her hair gently, just like their mother would to comfort them when they were young. He could not find any words to say to that. Would he really find his other half in this lifetime? He had waited 8 years already. How much longer would he have to wait? Suddenly, a small gasp escaped Ayaka’s lips. What if, just what if, she knew who was destined for her brother?

“Brother, will you come with me to Ritou today?” He looked at his sister, smiling and nodded. He did not have any work today, and a walk with his sister would surely cheer him up. “Of course, that sounds lovely.” Ayaka became even more happy, a sudden hope blooming inside her heart. Today, after 10 years her only childhood friend was returning to Inazuma after completing her studies in Sumeru upon her parents’ wishes. Ayaka had received her letter a few days ago, informing her about her return back home to Inazuma.

The crux docked at the port of Ritou, and you stepped down with the help of your dear friend Kazuha. Finally, after a decade you were back home. You had missed inazuma terribly, and now seeing the Sakura trees in full bloom gave you a strong feeling of nostalgia. Over the years you had grown up to be a beautiful young woman, 24 years old. You had excelled in your studies at the Academia, and were blessed with a dendro vision. You were a skilled student, strategist and researcher. Not to mention your excellent fighting skills using a polearm. You smiled brightly, finally back home. “Your happiness is refreshing to see Y/N” spoke Kazuha’s gentle voice, making you chuckle. “Being back home is all I could’ve asked for, especially after everything that happened! You’re a hero here Kazuha!” He laughed softly, shaking his head as he led you inside the island of Ritou. “You flatter me, but we both know it was the traveler who really saved Inazuma. And it is our fortune that the Shogun also changed her mind and listened to our pleas.”

You both talked as Kazuha told you all about Ritou island. Everything had changed so much and you were in complete awe. “Well we are here. I’ll leave you here to meet up with Lady Ayaka. We shall meet tomorrow Y/N.” you smiled brightly, nodding at his words. “Alright, thank you Kazuha, I’ll see you tomorrow!” As you he left, you waited for Ayaka, while looking around. The season of spring was always your favourite, seeing the flowers in full bloom made you so happy. This was also when you could see so many people together in love, walking hand in hand. It made you crave for love too. You never had the time to even think of falling in love in Sumeru, your studies had kept you occupied. Moreover, being born in the land of eternity, you wanted to find your soulmate, you wanted the eternal bond your archon had blessed you with. Now that you were back home, you wanted to find your soulmate too. As you were looking around, you saw a lone flower amongst the freshly bloomed ones, withered and uncared for. You went towards it, summoning your dendro powers to make it bloom. You smiled seeing your powers work, and as you stood back up, you heard Ayaka’s voice call you.

“Y/N? Is that you??” You turned around, smiling happily as you walked towards her, embracing her. “Ayaka!! Oh how I’ve missed you, you’ve become so beautiful!” You heard her laugh softly, both of you paying no heed to the people around who marvelled at the sight of the Shirasagi Himegimi out and about, that too with a friend. “I could say the same about you, you look so radiant and beautiful!” You giggled softly at the praise, pulling apart to look at her. “Well I haven’t come alone, I also brought brother along with me! Come on, you have to meet him!” “Oh my, Ayaka you didn’t have to bother the Commissioner like this!” Ayaka simply laughed, shaking her head dismissively. “Oh don’t be so formal, he doesn’t even know why I’ve come here, he would’ve agreed regardless! Come on, let’s go!”

You laughed softly as Ayaka held your hand, leading you towards a tree in a little secluded area where you saw a tall man with pale blue hair standing with his back turned towards you both. My goodness, how were you going to greet the Yashiro Commissioner? “Brother!” You heard Ayaka say, and in the next moment, your life completely changed.

You saw him turn around, and the moment your eyes locked, time stood still. He was the most ethereal man you had ever seen. His every feature seemed as if it was sculpted by the gods themselves. If the word perfection was a human, it would be him. Your heartbeat accelerated, and you gasped softly feeling something around your little finger. There it was, The Red String of Fate.

Ayato was stunned. He was frozen in place, lavender eyes wide and lips slightly parted. He saw how the delicate Red String connected you both together, finally revealing itself. He had found his soulmate, and oh my, she was the most enchanting woman he had ever seen. Her beauty was unlike any other, the wind gently blowing her long silky hair as her bluish green eyes met his. Her dendro vision glowed, and in response he could feel his own hydro vision glowing. Their heartbeats synced, their souls celebrated in joy. Finally he was complete, he was no longer alone. His feet led him closer to her, his eyes so soft and so full of love for her already. This was the woman who was going to love him eternally, and he had already fallen in love with her. She was everything he could’ve ever asked for.

He walked towards you, and he could sense the big and expectant smile on his sister’s face. Ah, so it was her plan all along. He’d make sure to thank her plenty later on. He gently held his left hand out to you, a smile growing on his face as you placed your hand in his almost immediately. Both of you gasped softly, the touch sending butterflies and shivers to your bodies. “I’ve finally found you..” you heard his deep voice speak. He was so handsome up close, you felt like losing yourself in the warmth of his eyes. “Commissioner…I-“ “Ayato…please, call me by my name..” you blushed, the tenderness in his voice making your heart flutter. “What’s your name, my better half?” My god, this man was going to drive you mad by his sweet words. “I’m Y/N, Ayaka’s childhood friend..”

“Your name is as beautiful as you are. I know we have only just met, but I have been waiting for you all my life…you have no idea how happy I am Y/N..” to your utter shock, you saw tears in his eyes, and you immediately reached out to wipe them, your heart and soul instinctively wanting to love and protect him forever. So this is how powerful the bond was, it instantly made the soulmates feel each other’s pain. “Please don’t cry…forgive me, I was in Sumeru, I just came back today. I promise you I will never leave again.” Ayato smiled, leaning into your gentle touch. He was finally so happy, now his life was perfect and complete. He was no longer going to suffer alone, he was no longer going to stand on the hill, watching everyone run ahead of him. Now, he was no longer falling behind.

He gently hugged you, and you both felt your hearts beat against one another in sync. The bond felt so magical, your love for each other was already blossoming. Somehow you could feel how lonely he was, how much pain he held in his heart. He didn’t seem like a stranger at all, rather it felt as if you had known each other for ages. You gently caressed his hair, basking in his warmth. His embrace felt so loving, you felt safe and cared for, as if no harm could ever come to you here. Now, you were finally home. As ayato held you close in his arms, he looked at his dear sister with tears of happiness in his eyes. She was also crying, finally seeing her brother truly smile and be happy. Ayato mouthed a thank you to her, and she knew he was always going to thank her for bringing his soulmate into his life when he needed her the most.

The red string of fate connects not just two people, but two hearts, two souls and two lives. It is a bond that can never break, a love that can never fade away and a promise that lasts forever.

[marymary-diva17]

A perfect life by the sea

This is alternate reality of " Farewell ma yan.... farewell" with some fluff and angst as well.

Life has always been very good and hard for a young girl, on the a planet of pandora. Even due it was very beautiful and wonderful, there were also dangerous around. These dangerous could be well know by many but also hidden away as well. The peace and harmony that had been made, to make this life so perfect can be destroyed by these evil forces and life could change for everyone involved. Not all faith shall be lost in this battle.

Angi “ …….” Angi was at the home she share with her mate neteyam, as she was watching over their kids. Babies who had been born a couple moons ago, but are beloved by their parents and their whole family as well. When this time of her life had become very perfect and happy, there was something that came to make it difficult and dangerous as well.

Angi “ ……..” today had been a very long day for angi, even she she was still getting use to mother hood and raising four babies. That was not the event that made her day stressful today, as she did have the support of her mate and their families. There was something else bother her and that was gossip and glares she had given. A couple days ago she had started hearing people wonder, if her kids are actually neteyam kids and if you were not playing dirty trick on neteyan and his family. That when angi found out not many people were, happy about her union with neteyam mostly those people were form his clan that disapproved of the Union and the children born from the union as well.

Earlier that day

Navi women “ I’m telling you those children from her are not neteyam children”

Navi man “ I have to agree somewhere the boys have our clan dna in them, but the girl lacks any of our clan dna in her”

Navi women 2 “ we have to be honest none of us wish and supported this Union, we came here seeking refuge we didn’t wish for any Unions”

Navi women 3 “ no we didn’t wish for any unions for eldest son of toruk makto and neytiri with a girl like her”

Navi man 2 “ we have daughters in the clan that will be a better choice of mate then her, but neteyam had chosen here at the end of day”

Navi man 3 “ don’t you all worry that tonowair and ronal will hear you speak ill of their daughter”

Navi women “ there are others in the clan that think the same as well, and there nothing to worry about as long non tell them straight away”

Navi women 2 “ if neteyam choice a women outside of the clan, he shouldn’t of picked someone better then her”

Navi women 3 “ she will not be a good tshaik or leader among her own people and now ours, it makes me sick to see that happen”

Navi man 2 “ her sister would of been a better choice or any other reef girl we seen here, as we all can see they have brought pride and respect to their families back her”

Navi women 4 “ I think some voices are being a bit harsh on angi”

Navi women “ I don’t care she had ruined many future plans and wishes for many, who wanted to have settled lives but not that all gone down the drain”

Navi man “ the girl brings shame to her own family and now toruk makto family, along with both of the clans with her shameless actions”

Navi women 2 “ well it look like loak and spider have someone to join them, in bring shame to everyone lives as none of boys have lived up to anything but wormed their ways in high respect families”

Navi women 3 “ we are lucky Tsireya and loak haven't had children yet as we will have more demon blood, along with spider trying to be with Kiri and Rotox … we already have enough bond blood here we don’t need more”

Navi man “ the only good thing that has come out of Union are the sons as they, will bring honor and respect to their families like their father”

Navi women 4 “ what about the daughter”

Navi women “ she is like her mother that all I can say”

Navi women 4 “ I don’t think I think this is safe, what shall we do when neteyam find out what the clan has been saying”

Navi man 3 “ don’t forget Jake and neytiri then there tonowair and ronal, they won’t like it as well no matter what anyone says”

Navi women “ what makes you think neteyam doesn’t regret picking her as mate, along with their parents regret for along this union to happen and others as well … they might be happy if breaks”

Navi man “ we are not the only ones who think that her clan as well, along with many other as well … remember the olo’eythans have to do what best for the clans” the groups had said nothing else as they soon left, not knowing angi had heard all their words. Now it had become clear to her for what has happens been, going on for a long time.

Present time

Angi “ …….” Angi had wiped away tears away from her face, as she soon looked at her kids and smiled brightly. They are her happiest and will always be her happiness, they had made her life here very perfect.

angi “ nayrre nukew aypix awia” the four babies are laying on a mat , when they soon look at their mom very happy.

???? “ hello” angi soon looked back to see her mother and neytiri by the home entrance. She soon got up and walked toward them.

y/n “ mother neytiri”

ronal “ we came by with some gifts for the family and home”

neytiri “ yes we have been working on some of these gifts, and thought now will be a great opportunity to share them with our grandchildren” both women were carry blankets and smiled towards angi.

Angi “ oh thank you” both older women soon walked into the home and place the gifts down.

ronal “ my daughter is everything okay you sound very worrisome”

Angi “ no mother everything is just fine it been a very busy day with the kids”

neytiri “ well you know you have us here angi, you are part of our family and clan”

ronal “ yes my daughter as a young mother and new at it, we shall be here to help you”

angi “ thank you” the three women had soon had their attention taken away, when they heard some laughter.

neytiri “ hello little ones we have come to see you”

Ronal “ such handsome little boys and beautiful girl as well” nayrre had clawed his way towards neytiri, as the women soon picked him up and held him.

neytiri “ little nayrre I have a feeling you will be a great warrior like your father”

ronal “ the children have been blessed very well by their parents and the great mother” aypix went toward ronal as the women soon picked him up as well.

ronal “ he will be a great warrior as well along with nukew as well, they seem to have their father spirits”

angi “ yes they are very much like their father that makes me happy”

Ronal “ awia will be like you my daughter and every other women in her family”

????? “ hey angi we came by to see you and the babies … oh hey mom” tsireya has came into the home soon followed by kiri and Tuk.

neytiri “ hello girls”

Kiri “ mom ronal we didn’t know you two will be here, we came to see angi and the little ones”

angi “ well you are all welcome here”

Tuk “ is dad still out on portal with tonowari and the guys”

neytiri “ yes they are checking on some sights of RDA activity”

tsireya “ they all left this morning but didn’t tell us when they will return”

Ronal “ well your father and Jake didn’t tell us either, so we have to wait for their return or call from them”

Tuk “ the little ones are getting bigger each passing day”

angi “ yes they are”

Kiri “ wait isn’t that a wooden makto toy”

Angi “ yes neteyam has made that for the kids, and they have fallen in love with it”

Kiri “ I remember when I and loak got in fights over the toy”

angi “ oh yes neteyam had told me stories about it”

Kiri “ so you and neteyam planning any date nights because, if you do I’m okay with baby sitting”

Tuk “ hey no fair”

Neytiri “ girls no fighting please”

Kiri and Tuk “ yes mom”

Tsireya “ how have the kids taken to their swimming sister”

Angi “ they are doing well sister”

Tsireya “ that so wonderful” angi had let out a laugh as she looked at her kids, as they played with their toys.

half a hour later

???? “ well we came across nothing today”

???? “ yes sir but we still need to keep alert, for the safety of many”

???? “ yes my son”

???? “ well even due we didn’t come across anything we did get a good caught, as well”

???? “ there is bright side of being out here all day, and we did come across some good locations as well”

???? “ we will have to share the data we collect as well”

???? “ this data can be useful in the future in case anything happens”

????? “ made it home as the sun is setting as well” soon neteyam had entered the home followed by everyone else.

Neteyam " hello everyone I didn't know you all will be her today"

neytiri " hello my son I and ronal had made some gifts for the kids, and brought them by and also came to see if we can help as well"

Jake " it good to see you all together a family"

kiri " well yes day we have four new members in our family"

neteyam " well I have come home with some food to share with m y family and see my children and mate ... how was your day today ma angi" neteyam had soon kissed angi forehead making her smile a bit and look at him.

angi " all has been good my husband it was a long day, but the kids have been good"

neteyam " That good to hear" neteyam had felt someone tap his leg as he looked down to see awia, he soon smile and pick up his daughter.

neteyam " it good to be home after being out all day"

tuk " so no trouble for the rda today"

Jake " no my daughter but we have to still be careful"

tonowari " Jake sully is right the sky people come back here and there, and we need to make sure we are ready for them"

tsu'tey " due to all the work and planning from neteyam we are good on some parts"

neteyam " I will do anything to protect my family and people"

lo'ak " it seems like fatherhood had changed you brother" nukew had started hanging near his uncles and aunts.

spider " yeah dude your whole personality has changed"

rotxo " balancing being a warrior and father seems to be something you can do"

neteyam " dad has said fatherhood will change me and so did tonowari, along with uncle norm and uncle tsu'tey"

norm " you have done a good job"

Jake " yes you have son a beautiful family"

angi " thank you Jake"

neytiri " why don't we have dinner as a family it will be fun"

neteyam " that will be nice right angi"

angi " yes it will be good" the family had dinner together as everyone started talking, once the dinner has been made and soon served to the family as well. Everything was going good there had been some times, when neteyam would kissed angi and smiled towards her. As she will return a smile back to him being very nice, and not wish to cause any trouble for him and everyone else. During the dinner angi had looked at lo'ak and spider, they to seem to be in deep thought as everyone spoke about the days to comes and future plans as well.

later on

neteyam " well the children are fast asleep"

angi " good you didn't have to do it on your own neteyam ...."

neteyam " I wanted to as you have been with them all day, and we agreed to be in our kids lives together"

angi " ........"

neteyam " have I told you how beautiful you are my love"

angi " thank you"

neteyam " your welcome but I mean it you are so beautiful and will always be beautiful"

angi " thank you" neteyam soon down on the couples bed next to his wife and kissed her right cheek.

angi " ......"

neteyam " my love is everything okay"

angi " I'm just tried that all motherhood and become a tshaik, has become very daring but every rewarding as well"

neteyam " well you know I'm here tp help as well so anytime. you need a break I will take over and keep our little ones busy and loved"

Angi "Thank you"neteyam soon brought Angi close to him and kissed her once again.

neteyam " I never thought I would be so lucky to have a life, with the one who gained my love and attention and soon a family as well"

Angi "Yes, we have such a beautiful life here, my husband." Angi gave neteyam a comforting smile as she wished not to worry about him anymore for that night. The words and looks she had received today still played in her head.

neteyam "Hey why don't we retire to bed if the kids wake up, I will take care of them and allow you to rest."

angi "That is very thoughtful of you, ma teyam"

neteyam "Anything for you, ma angi" the couple soon laid down in bed, but Angi could not sleep immediately. As she was not able to find peace during the night, as her mind was still on what happend today. She loves the perfect life she had made here with neteyam, and those she holds so close but it seems like this perfect life was falling apart.