#watch me accidentally fall for him in the most cruel twist of fate | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

shittybundaskenyer · 4 years ago

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✹ ▬ 𝐒𝐔𝐍𝐑𝐈𝐒𝐄𝐒 𝐈𝐍 𝐑𝐄𝐃

𝐂𝐇𝐀𝐏𝐓𝐄𝐑 𝐈. — 𝓖𝓻𝓲𝔃𝔃𝓵𝓲𝓮𝓼 𝓔𝓪𝓼𝓽 | 𝐏𝐀𝐑𝐓 𝟏 — The Goddess of War, Morrigan Marlowe I.

pairing: Arthur Morgan x Morrigan Marlowe (OC)

summary: She saved him and with that he saved her in return. It was a strange symbiosis, like wildflowers in a fruitless garden, alluring curious bees. He made her garden bloom. — Arthur Morgan thought he was done with living, but in a gentle golden sunrise, on that cursed mountain, he's rescued by a mysterious woman.

warnings: descriptions of injuries and sickness, blood, Arthur has TB, some self-hatred and unkind thoughts

𝑁𝐸𝑋𝑇 𝐶𝐻𝐴𝑃𝑇𝐸𝑅 | 𝐴𝑅𝐶𝐻𝐼𝑉𝐸 𝑂𝐹 𝑂𝑈𝑅 𝑂𝑊𝑁

There’s a wolf.

Between gently swaying raspberry vines and dried grass its eyes glint. Golden, with a hint of forest green. He can see it clearly, even though his vision is getting cloudy with stinging tears that are forcing their way through until they can escape from the corners of his eyes. He was never a man who cried easily but the happenings of those last few hours are starting to clear in his mind, and loneliness is slowly sinking its sharp claws into his barely beating heart.

The wolf scents the air, maybe it smells his fear now, or the lingering gunsmoke the wind stirs towards its way. Will it rip his throat out? That would be at least quicker than slowly choking on his own blood.

But the wolf doesn’t move like it would attack. It just watches him, cautiously stepping closer until he can feel its fur brushing the torn up knuckles on his right hand. It brushes its muzzle over the ripped fabric of his shirt where a bullet grazed his shoulder and where Micha's punches start to bruise a dark reddish purple.

He feels blood mingling with the tears on his cheeks, a salty copper taste lingering in his mouth as he gasps for air. The wolf snarls, but not threatening, drawing closer to his face.

Their eyes meet and the sun slowly creeps over the horizon, painting the landscape purple and golden in the early morning mist. Arthur's chest hurts, so much that he can barely catch his next breath. The wolf sniffs his face and for a second they inhale the same air. Its ears flatten, golden eyes meeting his.

There's something in its gaze, a warmth almost, like when he would look at sunlight filtering through the canopy of a forest on a hot summer day and let it gently caress his face.

Arthur struggles for another breath, even more desperate now. He starts shaking, wrecked by sobs and pain and the need to fill his lungs with the air that is barely pushing past his throat. The wolf nudges him then, places its head between his collarbone and neck, bares its teeth and he thinks now, it will tore his flesh open.

He tries to reach for the light fur that grows on the wolf's head but he doesn't have that power in him anymore. His hand lies limp over his stomach, absentmindedly pressing down on a wound to slow the bleeding. Not that it would mean too much.

His vision starts to go black around the edges but it's not from the wolf's attack. It just… rests there, like it would listen to his breathing, the slowing beats of his heart, until it rises and stomps its large paw on his chest, flaring up the pain from broken ribs again. He wheezes and the wolf growls, almost annoyed. It circles him and pushes its head under his arm and shoulder and turns him to his side. It's even worse now, the pain and the lack of air, and he moves as the wolf pleases, too weak, so goddamn weak.

The wolf rams its head into his back, making him cough until a thick patch of reddened spit and phlegm leaves his mouth. He can feel blood trickle down from his nose and he retches, helpless, and spits again.

There now, he can gulp down a breath.

It doesn’t let him rest. Hits him with its paw and nose, bares its teeth when their eyes meet after the reddened saliva dribbles down his chin. He’s too tired to do this, too weak to keep on breathing, but the most animalistic instincts of him and the wolf doesn’t allow him his final rest, not yet. So he wheezes and coughs and chokes until he calms down, until the wolf looks at him once more, with the rising sun glinting in its eyes, and rests its head on his aching chest, huffing a warm breath over his jaw.

Sunrise paints the landscape golden and under, the misty forests a warm reddish-purple. The world is quiet, only his tired breaths are mingling with the quietly whistling wind that twists and turns around the Grizzlies and the old, crooked pine trees. A whitetail buck grazes not too far, the sunshine glinting on his antlers. He raises his head and Arthur and the wolf stare back at him until he turns and jumps, disappearing between frost-kissed blackberry bushes.

The wolf and the sun warms him, caressing his face and pained body, gently lulling him until the sky turns into pink, purple, and then a brilliant blue.

He can’t keep his eyes open anymore.

When he wakes the wolf is gone but there's a woman.

He's in a room, laying in a bed that is covered with something soft, maybe a pelt. His senses are still muddled, but they slowly creep back to him. The ache in his body is still present, breathing is still a struggle. The light coming from a hearth and a kerosene lamp is making him blink back tears, but with his hazy vision he notices the woman quietly busying herself with brewing something, and the air is heavy with the sweet smell of burning herbs.

And then he coughs.

The coughing fit wrecks his body, makes him gasp for air between spitting up blood and choking on it. It stains the fur he's laying on, and drips down the corner of his mouth, disappearing in his beard.

The woman drops the kettle she was holding and rushes to him, carefully pulling him by his uninjured arm to lay on his side. He spits again, the blood finally clearing from his mouth while she holds him in place with one hand and hits his back with the other until he coughs up the mucus that's choking him.

Arthur goes limp when it's over, wheezing in painful breaths while she regards his face and the stained pelt under his head. She reaches for his overgrown hair and brushes it out of his face, her gaze meeting his. She has doe eyes that glint golden in the light of the dimmed kerosene lamp placed on his bedside. He doesn't recognize her but somehow he feels he knows her at the same time. Maybe from another life.

"Better now?" she asks quietly while she places his hand on the bed and gently lays him back.

Arthur tries to speak but only a tired groan leaves his lips while a string of bloodstained saliva dribbles down his chin. He tries again.

"Not much," his voice is so quiet that only a whisper of a gentle breeze could blow the words away. But she listens and lays her palm flat on his forehead. His skin is clammy there, probably the result of a fever, and she clicks her tongue disappointedly, confirming his assumption. "If—If I may ask," he rasps out, trying to be polite, even if speaking feels like being stabbed in the throat every second, "where am I, Miss?"

She pulls back her hand and glances towards the window on the far wall for a minute, where blinking stars and an inky black sky is visible through the glass, and then back to his eyes.

"Found ya half-dead while I was huntin'. You're in my home now, up in the Grizzlies."

Arthur just nods and closes his eyes, not having the energy to keep them open anymore. The woman pulls back for a little and when she returns he feels a cool, wet rag on his forehead, and soon after, her hands again, sneaking under his head to keep him upright while a tin cup is lifted to his lips. He forces himself to look up at her when he feels the fresh water hitting his tongue.

She’s a bit surprised when he grabs the cup she’s still holding, his palm wrapping around hers so he can drink all of the water. When he’s done she doesn’t pull away immediately, but regards his face, the scars and blackened bruises still lingering there. The blood on his chin over an old, jagged scar.

“Why did ya bring me here?” he rasps, every word a stinging pain to form. She looks down for a moment, at his bruised hand that carefully releases hers. The tin cup is empty.

“Guess life ain't done with you yet.”

That's all she says and he sighs, regretting it the next moment as his lungs try to expand, so tired, so weak. He stifles another cough into the fur he stained with blood earlier.

“You’re wrong, Miss. I’m as good as dead.”

Her face turns a bit worried, but she tells him she saw him fighting on that mountain. That after all he did she couldn't let him die while those other men in black swarmed the place like rats to search through the dead.

His face falls at that, a frown drawing his brows together while she watches him. He tells her that she got herself into something that could kill her. She answers with a sad, bitter smile and that she knows exactly how cruel men could be. He doesn't ask her how or why, he only nods and turns his head to the side where he can see the stars glinting silently outside the window. He knows women who met cruel fates.

If the Pinkertons didn't find his body, they'd track him down. Milton assured him that he would be hunted to the ends of the earth until the end of time. Agent Milton was dead now, shot down by Abigail when Arthur's strength failed in fighting him off. Still, his voice whispers in his mind regardless.

Arthur is sure that they'll hunt him down and shoot him like a dog, or make it last like they did with Mac Callander. The sick bastards .

And this woman, they will kill her too. There's no mercy after what happened, no offer for amnesty. Just a gun and a finger on the trigger.

"If they turn up… They'll kill us, Miss."

"They can try," is her only answer.

She lifts the rag from his forehead, puts it in a bowl of water he can't see from where he's laying, but he can hear it splashing as she wrings out the cloth. The cool touch of the fabric is back in a few seconds while she rises from the chair next to him and her pinky finger accidentally brushes his scarred knuckles as she lifts up the tin cup from his weak grasp.

Arthur doesn't feel like talking anymore.

He spends a week sweating out his fever. The woman brews him herbal teas that taste awful and knock him out cold within five minutes. She feeds him broth when he's too weak to even lift a spoon and she tends to his wounds and bruises.

Arthur tried to refuse her help, the food she made for him, the care she gave so willingly. He never could defeat that kindness in her, however stubbornly he tried. She just gave and cared and made sure he was living day after day, not letting him succumb into that self-destructing hole he dug for himself. Arthur marveled at how such a pure soul can still exist in such a cruel world. She told him it's easier when she's alone in the mountains, and that people are kinder here than stuck up city folk. That, he agreed on.

And now, after each passing day he feels vulnerable. He never had to rely on someone else when he was wounded or sick—he always managed on his own, even stitched his own wounds sometimes. They always left a jagged, ugly scar, but he never had to bother someone else with them. Now, he's furious. But his anger is directed only at himself, his weakness, his foolish self that got himself sick, that worked himself to the ground, that didn't die on that mountain.

He asks her to stop once, when she's taking out spoonfuls of broth into a bowl. She doesn't understand. Arthur looks at her when she comes closer with the bowl in hand, sitting down next to him on an old wooden chair. He tries to sit up but his broken ribs protest and he sinks back into the bed with an annoyed huff.

"Why're ya still doin' this?" he asks while she lifts the bowl to his lips. He drinks it, his body fighting, not as stubborn as his stupid mind—it fights to live, because it always fought for that.

"'Cause you're not gettin' better."

"You know what I mean."

"We're more similar than ya think. I was in your place once. A stranger helped me, and now look at me. I live. And you'll live too," she manages to be so openly honest with him without revealing any real detail about her past. Arthur's beyond curious, but he just takes the bowl from her now, gulps down a mouthful because he feels, for the first time in a month, truly hungry.

She watches him while he finishes the food, smiles at him when he pulls away the bowl and his upper lip and beard is smeared with the broth. She has a kind smile, a lady's smile that was not born to live in the wilderness like this.

He wipes his mouth with the back of his palm, the ache in his shoulder flaring up like gasoline poured onto embers.

Arthur realized a few days back that she was the only person who lived here. One night, when he couldn't sleep from the nightmares and his aching chest he listened how she walked around the house, checking the doors and lighting the lantern outside, on the front porch.

But no one was coming home in the late hours of the night.

He asks her then, that she lives alone or her family is just away. She looks down, a hint of sadness softening her features before she can hide it behind a fake, barely there smile. They're not coming back.

"I'm sorry."

It's not pity, not when he's lost so much too. It's more like a deep understanding, a knowledge of hidden wounds that never can heal fully. She looks at him again until their eyes meet and he's confronted with an honesty that usually only mirrors can muster.

"It was a long time ago now," she tells him while she takes the bowl into her hands, leans back on the creaking chair. Arthur follows her movements with tired, bloodshot eyes. She looks outside, through the small window where the curtains are only half-open, the early morning sky burning behind them in a deep red and purple.

She rises then, takes the bowl to the washbasin in the other corner of the room. She brews coffee, its familiar scent awakening a comforting warmth in his still aching chest. She offers him a cup, leaves it on his bedside to cool a little while she takes her own and steps out to the front porch, into the sunrise in red.

She asks his name the next week, when he still doesn't start to heal. Arthur answers her with a bitter smile and his name, so strange now on his tongue that still tastes of coppery blood after coughing.

"You wanted something to write on my gravestone, ain't ya?"

"Don't be silly Arthur," she scolds him, walks closer from the stove where she's brewing some new kind of tea. He likes how his name sounds when it rolls down her tongue. It's soft. Strange. After so many other people had said it with hate and anger, it's nice to hear it like he could be a normal person. Not a no-good ugly bastard like him. It's also nice hearing his first name, the one that is stained with a bit less blood than Morgan , the one that shines inky black on every wanted poster from Blackwater to Annesburg.

She sits beside him, on the bed this time, and she checks the cool rag that's draped over his forehead. Her hands smell like various kinds of herbs, of the outside, of the wilderness. Arthur inhales it deeply, fights down a cough while he ignores his aching chest. He misses the outdoors. It's nicer dying in a forest than a bed. It's more fitting for him, too. No outlaw deserves the warmth of a home in his last days.

"It's still burnin'," she sighs and pulls back her hand.

"I'm not gonna get better, Miss." Arthur turns towards the window again, where he can see the pine trees basking in the early afternoon sunlight. Frost glimmered on their branches earlier and painted the cobwebs in the corner of the windowframe a shining silver. "I have consumption."

Admitting it to her feels like a mistake, just like being in her house, eating her food, accepting her care. He doesn't deserve all this, not when he has taken so much from kind people like her before. He tried to do good in the end, he tried , but—

"I know," she nods, a hint of sadness sparkling in her eyes. "My Pa had the same symptoms. He had it as well."

He starts to understand now, the things she said about her family. He wants to ask but he bites into his lip instead and nods. She watches him for a moment, her eyes following the tired lines of his face.

She tells him her name then. Morrigan. Arthur remembers the Irish tales and legends Hosea used to read for him when he was still young and somewhat careless and happy . A Celtic goddess, war and fate and doom and death. How fitting for him. But not for her, not when she's so gentle. She reminds him of Boadicea, another kind soul named after women of war.

"I've seen enough death, Arthur," she whispers and she stands up from the side of his bed, walks towards the whistling kettle on the stove, but she turns back for a second to look into his eyes and say "I don't wanna see yours too."

#rdr2 #red dead redemption 2 #arthur morgan #arthur morgan x oc #rdr2 fanfic #arthur x morrigan #morrigan marlowe #my writing #sunrises in red #im finally done sitting on this chapter #i wrote this like a week ago #so here ya qo i can't look at it longer #also i'm pretty rusty still so i'm sorry if this is shitty #anyways i want arthur to heal #so this will be the center element of this fic #with some love and care sprinkled on it

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justapayneaway · 5 years ago

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It took me a while to compile all these Ziam fics, but here we are with a long list of beautiful stories for everybody that is interested in reading Liam & Zayn fall in love or be in love a lot of times!

A big shout out to every single fic writer out there in the world... You’re amazing and I thank you every single day for the amazing stories y’all write!

Enjoy and have a good read ❤️

0k - 20k

There's so Much that We Need to Share by Lovelyziam (1k) The sight of snow didn’t make the cold worth it to Zayn, no. It was this: Liam’s body snug and soft in front of him, pressed tightly to Zayn’s chest while he sat between Zayn’s thighs. It was his arms wrapped around Liam’s waist and their fingers interwoven beneath their pile of blankets. It was the warmth radiating from Liam’s back and slowly seeping into Zayn, making him sleepy and languid despite the freezing press of Liam’s toes against his own.

Sunshine through my window by sunnysideup (2k) Fic idea about Liam being a happy puppy in the sun and Zayn hears him through his window, sees him for the first time and poof, he's in love.

Drive Safe, I Love You by JoMouse (3k) Liam surprises his son with a day at a Motorcycle Bike Show. While there, he finds out about Mini Moto and meets the man who runs a team.

I Know The Sound Of Your Heart by LibbyWrites (7k) Liam always adored the peace and quiet of his neighborhood. Until a new neighbor shows up and turns his world upside down with much more than just loud music.

Most Poetic Ride or Die Death Wish by LetTheMusicMoveYou (10k) Or the one where Niall convinces Liam to join Tinder and a slight miscommunication might make it the best mistake he's ever made.

Get a little bit nervous by louistomlinsons (14k) Ziam farmer's market au where liam, louis, and niall work at the produce stand, harry and zayn work at the bakery stand, and nobody's straight.

Favourite Entertainer by eternallyunleashed (15k) Zayn is a popular YouTuber well known for uploading song covers and original music on his channel and doing podcasts on murder mysteries. He’s amassed a couple million followers and dedicated fanbase. After endless requests from fans, he introduces them to his boyfriend Liam and does the ‘boyfriend does my makeup challenge.'

Just the two of us and a cute little cup of cyanide by orphan_account (17k) An I-accidentally-married-my-best-mate-in-Vegas fic, where Liam's completely oblivious, Zayn's completely in love, Harry's had enough, Louis plays mediator and Niall just wants his best friends to be with each other.

Only Place I Call Home by scottmcniceass (17k) Liam works at a coffee shop; Zayn is a homeless street performer who plays just outside the shop. Sometimes Liam brings Zayn coffee and donuts and in exchange Zayn sings for him.

20k - 40k

We are the quiet ones by englandziam (22k) University AU where Zayn is an English student and Liam is the football captain.

Until you believe it by lizee (23k) Where Zayn and Liam meet at a sixth form party and Zayn offers to tutor him. He doesn't expect himself to fall in love with the kid while he's at it.

Ridiculous by scottmcniceass (24k) They are every cliched high school story. The jock and the rebel. The popular boy and the outsider. They shouldn't fit, and they definitely shouldn't work, but they sort of do anyways.

Wake up the part of me that has fallen asleep by nooelgallagher & yoursongonmyheart (24k) The one where Liam discloses something incredibly personal about his sex life and Louis hatches a plan to help him - which may or may not include Zayn.

Can I Keep You by scottmcniceass (26k) Liam is always trying to do what's best for himself and his daughter, but raising a kid on his own at twenty-two, on top of juggling school work and a full-time job, isn't easy. Zayn just wants a chance to show Liam that he's not going to walk out on them. And Liam's daughter, Emma? She just wants to keep Zayn.

I just can't keep you too far from my thoughts by halleluzayn (28k) The YouTuber AU fic where Zayn is not a beauty vlogger, Liam types like an over excited teenage girl, Louis is a Harry Styles fanboy, Harry is basically Ed Sheeran, and Niall is Liam's video editor that really needs to get laid already.

Down the vista of years by ohthathurt (cloisterrific_221B) (30k) Zayn whispered, “So where do we go from here?”Liam shrugged, seemingly lost in thought. Then he smiled down at his boyfriend, “Forward?”Zayn smiled serenely, eyes twinkling like gold in the sun seeping through the open windows. He nodded, “Forward.”

I'll Be Strong For You by scottmcniceass (30k) When Zayn breaks his leg attempting to skateboard over Harry's car, he ends up stuck in the hospital for two weeks. The only thing he doesn't hate about the hospital is the gorgeous volunteer, Liam, who is almost annoyingly sunny and happy. But Liam's got a secret a secret hidden behind his impossibly bright smile.

It's Always Darkest Before The Dawn by historyziam (30k) At a time in his life when Zayn thinks he has forgotten what genuine happiness feels like, Liam comes into the picture and changes everything.

Somehow I Still Carry On, Burdened By Fears by slashter (31k) Liam's been kidnapped but doesn't remember Zayn and Zayn struggles with loss and love and heartbreak all over again.

You Never Give Up On Me by sunshinexbomb (31k) In which Zayn is an English teacher tempted to write awful poetry about the warm coffee color of Liam's eyes, Liam is a primary ed teacher and single parent who thinks he's too busy to be in a relationship, Niall and Harry are the sickeningly cute newlywed teachers in the school, and Louis is a drama teacher who is not-so-patiently waiting for the day of his own wedding.

The Truth Will Set You Free by loveandbeloved (34k) Zayn wakes up the next day to the news that Liam has taken on the case of the kid, to oppose Zayn and prove that he isn’t a killer.To say he’s pissed beyond belief goes without saying, but somehow he thinks that he should’ve seen this coming.

So let's say, I'll come another day by sophieisgod (36k) Zayn meets Liam in 1999, swinging on the gate in his back yard. Liam meets Zayn in 2010, killing time in McDonald’s on the most important day of his life. They have adventures, conquer the world, and fall in love. A story about fate, timing, free will, wonky genetics, parallel universes, significant tattoos, emotional haircuts, sudden nudity, sex crying, and a Batman t-shirt from HMV.

Be cruel to me ('cause I'm a fool for you) by frenchkiss (37k) The one where Zayn is a stressed out single dad, Liam might just be what he needs, Louis and Niall are always happy to babysit and Harry's a loud snorer.

I’ll never stop choosing you babe, i’ll never get used to you by redsweater (37k) Zayn and Liam are happily married until they're not.

Twisting to the sun and the moon by orphan_account (37k) (2nd part is also amazing!) Liam has three simple, non-negotiable rules when it comes to one-offs. And he doesn't ever fall for someone he associates with hotel sheets and lust. But this kid, Zayn, twists things inside of him he's not expecting. Suddenly, the rules don't make any sense at all.

My Reflection; All I See Is You by taecheeks (38k) (There is a 2nd part too!) This life, it's forever. That's what being immortal means, but Zayn didn't realize it would take him this long to realize it. What good is forever if nothing else is?

40k - 60k

Every Step by taecheeks (40k) Every step Liam takes, it's for her, Lily. And every path he's journeyed has somehow led him to Zayn.

Here I Stand by StormDancer (40k) Zayn lifts his chin, turns so that he’s facing Harry. He doesn’t look at Liam, because he can’t bear to look, and because he’s really not trying to be mean or pointed. Liam can do what he wants. But Zayn drew a line in the sand a long time ago, and it matters. “I’m not hiding, Haz. This is who I am. They can deal with it.”

You're The Shining Distraction That Makes Me Fly by Romancemesomeziam (40k) Zayn is a recently new single father, falling into his role without ease until Liam, his son's first grade teacher, helps him a little to adapt to the new lifestyle.

Lover Dearest by scottmcniceass (43k) "First rule, babe," Zayn says, leaning down. His lips slide over Liam's jaw, barely there, just a soft pressure, fleeting and gone as soon as it came. "Never trust a vampire."He's grinning as he climbs off Liam, heading for the door. Liam watches him go, thinking that he's wrong. The first rule should be to not fall in love with one.

Some moments are rare by orphan_account (46k) Zayn is spending a summer studying aboard; thirty days across Europe, with his best mate by his side. It's always been like this ― Zayn and Liam. And he's always been a bit daft about love, or the fact that Liam's always been in love with him. It's all a bit of a mess, actually.

Until two and two is three by orphan_account (47k) They're perfect for her, Lily, even if she's their best mates' daughter -- except they hate each other. But life plays out a little comically and a lot tragically sometimes. And Liam will never get over how much he loves Lily or how much he hates Zayn, but they're all she has left now.

Like Peter Pan (Or Superman) by orphan_account (48k) Zayn has spent most of his life up until now in a cloud of smoke, hiding from his past, being different. When a firefighter named Liam rescues him from a fire, Zayn starts to realize maybe Liam's saved his life in another way... and he's not quite sure he's ready to be that guy he should've been all along. But maybe, just for Liam, he can?

Good Thing At a Bad Time by scottmcniceass (49k) Zayn prefers to be on his own. It's easier to survive when you don't have to worry about anyone else. Liam leads a large group of people that have taken residence in an abandoned prison. When Zayn wakes up in a prison cell, all he can think about is finding a way out. Liam makes him want to stay.

It keeps my veins hot (the fire's found a home in me) by loveontherocks (51k) The one where zayn survives a fire and falls in love with the firefighter that saved him.

Not Happening by scottmcniceass (53k) Zayn and Liam are roommates. They hate each other. (Most of the time.)

And you take me the way I am by orphan_account (54k) Liam needs a date to a wedding. His family loves to match him up with blind dates. He doesn't want that. He needs a date... and, well, why not Zayn. Pretending to be boyfriends for a weekend isn't the worst idea he supposes. Liam is horribly wrong.

It's You by happily_missy (56k) Liam is a PA for a famous fashion designer and Zayn is their gorgeous new model. Or the one where Liam is in control of everything except for the fact that he keeps getting hard around Zayn and Zayn refuses to admit that Liam might be everything he's been looking for all along.

Your Lips On Mine by zipplekink (56k) The one where Zayn is a camboy, who likes to think about the fit mechanic with a liking for leather jackets and scruffy beards from uni during his shows. And Liam, the mechanic, who realizes his new roommate is Bradford, the man with the smooth skin covered in tattoos that Liam watches late at night with a hand wrapped around himself.

Face to Face by JoMouse (57k) Liam's fiance lost her ring. Zayn found it in his girlfriend's rucksack. What happens when the ring brings them face to face?

Floating On The Water by scottmcniceass (58k) Liam just wants to get through his last summer working at Malik Resort before University without incident. Of course, life is never that easy, and he ends up getting roped into giving the bosses son, Zayn, swimming lessons. That wouldn't be so bad, if Zayn didn't happen to hate him so much.

Hold on When You Get Love (and Let Go When You Give It) by orphan_account (59k) Where Zayn's studying Lit at Uni and Liam is a construction worker who catches Zayn's eye every day he passes by.

Let Me Drown Slowly by fruityoatey_bahhh (59k) The one where Liam's a prostitute, and Zayn just wants to be kept warm at night.

60k - 80k

These Faded Stars Along Our Horizons by ch3stpaynes (60k) Zayn isn't used to this; the buzzing feeling that comes along with pinched grins, cherry red lips and eyes like Sunday morning coffee. He's used to smogged out cities, not enough oxygen between each breath and perhaps a few spliffs with the boys when the weather isn't absolutely dreadful. And Liam Payne may just flip all of his priorities upside down.

Habits Of The Heart by taecheeks (61k) “I’ll be really good to you,” Liam whispers, sliding an arm under Zayn’s shoulder like he is a pillow. Zayn closes his eyes, remembering when Liam had said those same words to him while laying on his chest before they started dating. The same feeling rattles in his chest, the same uncertainty, the same need for his words to remain true.“I know,” Zayn whispers, massaging his fingers through Liam’s hair. “You always have.”Liam pushes up, brows furrowing together as he stares down at him, the humor in his face turning far more serious. “And I always will, Zayn.”

I See You Babe, But We Are Both Blind by SoftlyandSwiftly (61k) One Direction returns to London for a break from their Take Me Home Tour in August 2013, and after an unfortunate run-in at a coffee shop, Liam and Zayn find themselves in a fake relationship. Except, it ends up not feeling fake at all.

Run For the Woods Now by jmcats (62k) (there are other 3 parts to this one so read them all because they are amazing!) Zayn knows some of the best and worst moments start with one of Louis' ideas. Still, it's almost as if everyone knew where this, his life, was going when Harry and Liam moved into Wagner’s old flat, with that stupid plant sitting in the doorway, and too many cigarettes and Justin Timberlake for any of this to have been one of those classically clichéd love stories.And Zayn doesn't do clichés. Not until Liam, that is.

Some Love Wait Till Its Time by wasp (63k) University!AU where heart-in-the-right place but always-trying-to-save-people Liam Payne meets slightly pretentious hipster Zayn and tries to mend his broken heart.

Keep this love (in a photograph) by carissima (64k) The one where Liam's a fireman, Zayn's a photographer and yeah, there's a calendar shoot or two involved.

The bittersweet between my teeth by gaysubtexts (64k) Liam and Zayn grow up together, louis, niall, and harry tagging along later on.

According to your heart (my place is not deliberate) by orphan_account (65k) A university-volleyball au in which Zayn hates the game but he does it for a scholarship. And for Louis. And possibly for the new freshman setter who keeps teaching Zayn new things.

The beauty of this mess by orphan_account (67k) Zayn loves this city, loves his boys, loves the salty taste of the surf on his tongue even though he hates the ocean... but he's not expecting to fall in love with Liam and all of his little secrets, too. Not enough to stick around in this sandy city of teenage dreams.

Let's pretend it's love by wafflehood (68k) Pretend!boyfriends fic in which Liam and Zayn get papped while hamming it up for Louis and Eleanor, and management decides the easiest way to deal with the resulting hysteria is to let it run its course.

Simple truths of belonging by soofyahn (68k) Liam spends ten years building the career for himself that he’s always wanted, and spends the same span of time falling out of communication with the one person he can’t reason why he misses. They find each other, again, stumbling around each other for a moment until they fall together in new, unpredictable ways.

Until the End of Time by theyinlove (68k) Zayn Malik lives a pretty decent life. He’s got an incredible family, a nice little place for him and his three sweethearted dogs, an amazing group of friends, and a good, stable job. Aside from the bouts of depression he may occasionally fall into and the intense anxiety he battles, he feels good about where he is in his life. But what do you get when a hunky fireman, who also happens to be a piece of sunshine on earth, walks into a bar? You get a cautious of love man realizing that, shit, maybe some people might be worth the risk of heart break.

The Prince King by ziamhaze (69k) At twenty, Zayn finds himself a widower and single father of one. It takes everything in his power to raise the three month old alone while also keeping up with his budding career as an artist. Five years later and Zayn’s more dedicated than ever to do whatever it takes for the little boy to have a better life than the one he had at his age. When that includes hiring a professional carpenter to build him a treehouse, Zayn finds himself having to figure out how to win the man’s game of cat and mouse before the structure’s complete, or risk missing out on someone who makes him want to spend the rest of his life mixing oil paints together in order to find the exact shade of warmth that the contractor exudes.

These amber words on our fingertips by orphan_account (69k) Zayn's life in London is about one thing — making life perfect for his son. He's still finding himself in this city, with all of the noise and left behind dreams. He needs to focus and Liam is, well, distracting. He's different. Zayn's always liked that word.

These fading scars by lovely_ziam (69k) Vampire!AU in which Liam falls in love with a human.

But the sun comes up instead by blackwayfarers (71k) Zayn Malik, charming and confident fraternity vice-president, meets shy but achingly endearing high schooler Liam Payne at a kegger and everything just goes straight to hell.

The Only One Who Takes You Home by loveandbeloved (71k) The fluffiest stripper AU in which businessman!Zayn and stripper!Liam have a lot of feelings and they both get more than they expected.

Just let me know by SoftlyandSwiftly (72k - this one has two more parts so read them all!) Zayn wakes up in a hospital, eyes blurry and head pounding, only for a doctor to tell him he's lost two years of his life. And if that's not awful enough, something's different with Liam, off like something has changed, and Zayn doesn't understand. Until he does. And then it's somehow worse.

Money Moves by mmaree (74k) A Fake Engagement AU with Boss!Liam and Secretary!Zayn.

Give love a try, one more time by iwasnthere (75k) Zayn groans, "Liam, do you ever get tired of annoying me?""Nope" Liam replies, popping a chip into his mouth. "Because it's cute watching you lie to yourself""Excuse me?" Zayn looks at Liam bemusedly."You're lying to yourself when you say that ‘I annoy you’.” Liam does the quote unquote thing with his fingers, smiling. “Admit it, you like me.""You've been asking me out for the past year and a half,” Zayn states, “the answer you always get is no, and I'm pretending?" he asks incredulously."Yep." Liam grins, "I'll get that yes one day, Zayn." “Keep trying.” Zayn gets out, trying for snappy but it ends up sounding amused. Damn it.

Through the summertime, winter, spring, and fall by taecheeks (77k) They change with the seasons, burning bright during the summer and biting cold during the winter, but that feeling of being in love Zayn found in the summer clings to him through it all.

What We Become by scottmcniceass (78k) “Nervous?”“No.”“It’s okay if you are,” Harry says seriously. “I mean, I know I would be. Like, if there was ever a date that was destined to go bad, it’s probably this one. Werewolf goes on date with the son of a werewolf hunter, who’s also training to be a werewolf hunter when he’s older, while another pack of werewolves are practically massacring the town, and no one has no idea how to stop them. It's not a question of what could go wrong. It's a question of what could possibly go right, and I'm willing to bet the answer to that is nothing."

80k - 100k

Kick, Push by ziamhaze (85k) World champion street skateboarder Zayn Malik has been on top of the sport’s rankings since he turned pro at 15. So when the Olympic Committee announces that skateboarding will be included for the first time at the 2020 Games, he’s thrilled to take on the challenge while representing Great Britain. There’s just one thing standing in between him and adding another title to the record books: his crippling performance anxiety. But when Team GB Skateboarding’s awarded a physiotherapist with an affinity for experimental therapy methods and a crinkly eyed smile, Zayn thinks he might just have found his ticket to bringing home gold.

Pride by iwanttowriteyouafic (86k) The one where Zayn and Liam strike a deal to help each other through their dirtiest nights, but Zayn's perception of alphas may be preventing him from something purer.

Compartment 451 by ziamhaze (88k) Zayn’s a muggleborn wizard whose parents leave him to fend for himself once he’s made aware of his magical abilities. The Payne’s are an open minded wizarding family, who take him in and provide the boy with a loving home before he and their overly excited son Liam, go off to Hogwarts for the first time.

Tunnel Vision by scottmcniceass (90k) In which Zayn is an award-winning popstar with a knack for getting himself in trouble, and Liam is the bodyguard he didn’t want to hire who has a few problems with staying professional.

Z.A.Y.N. by ziamhaze (92k) For six years, international R&B star Liam Payne has topped the charts with his unique, upbeat songs. Even though he’s proud of where he’s gotten himself, he knows he can’t take all the credit; there’s one particular songwriter that goes by the name ‘Icarus Kalim’ that’s played a huge part in his success. Because of the writer’s ability to craft thought provoking tracks that touch Liam in a way he didn’t even know was possible from afar, the celebrity makes a musical exception for ‘Icarus’, buying the man’s songs for himself, even though he swore he would never put his name on something he had no help in creating. But what happens when Liam finally tricks the soulful poet into meeting him after years of not even knowing what the man looks like? Is ‘Icarus’ really all Liam’s made him out to be in his head or will he be unlike anything the singer could’ve ever dreamt up...

Colour my senses cherry red by thilia (96k) Zayn Malik, closeted gay pornstar.

+ 100k

Lost for Words by AGreatPerhaps12 (102k) The one where Liam has a stutter and zero self confidence, and Zayn has a carefully controlled temper (also starring Louis and Harry as that disgustingly-in-love couple and Niall as the only straight guy around, apparently).

Slow and High Tempo by taecheeks (103k) "I just want you, Liam," Zayn whispers, skating his lips across his. "Can I?"Liam's lips part more as Zayn's do, exhaling slightly as Zayn's words sink in. He doesn't understand what they mean, but he knows he meant it when he said Zayn could have anything he wants. His eyes flicker open to stare up at Zayn's dark ones, filled with a warmth that seems to consume Liam as he waits for him to respond. "Yeah, babe."

Deadpool by rorz94 (111k) Zayn Malik, a multi-millionaire good doer/artist, is targeted by a lunatic serial killer for no reason. Enter hot charismatic detective Liam Payne in the investigation of his case. Payne is assigned to protect Mr.Malik as a punishment from his supervisor but Liam does not think it's such a bad punishment to stay close to the attractive young man.

Permanent by scottmcniceass (114k) At twenty-six, Liam has made a name for himself as one of the best football players of his generation. He's in the prime of his game when a car accident threatens to end his career permanently. Depressed and hating the world, Liam heads back to his home town to take some time off and find himself again. He doesn't expect to find life pretty much the way he'd left it eight years ago, and he definitely doesn't expect to find something that might make him want to stay permanently, but that's what he gets.

Hello kisses sweet as wine by xxcaribbean (123k) Zayn doesn’t expect mr. payne to have all the answers, and he certainly hadn’t meant to leave an impression. So, this isn’t really a love story. Well, it shouldn’t be.

Intoxicate Me, Mesmerize Me, Obliterate Me by eternallyunleashed (280k) There was a certain heat obtained from rebellion that even the actual throes of heat never sparked. Keeping up an image of perfection; being the good kid, the perfect son to the Mayor and Chief of Police, the city of Lincoln’s sweetheart omega, it was all taxing to Zayn. Walking the thin line of danger was exhilarating. Was it coincidental that this danger happened to be an attraction to a certain alpha who was none other than the leader of the South Side Vipers gang, who seemed to despise him and the part of town he came from? Probably not. But when had anything ever stopped Zayn?

Can't Help Falling in Love with You by eternallyunleashed (518k) Zayn is an 18 year old just out of high school who is going to start pre-med in NYU in September. Liam is a 26 year old CEO of a major company and also an ex-football player. Their paths cross when Zayn lands an internship at Liam's company thanks to Harry and their lives are completely thrown off balance.

#ziam #fic rec #liam payne #zayn malik #I really hope you enjoy this #it took me a whole afternoon to do this #help lmao

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bytheangell · 5 years ago

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Where the Wild Things Make Sense

(Read on AO3) Square Filled: Ritual for @shadowhunterbingo Pairing: Malec (Magnus Bane/Alec Lightwood) Rating: Teen and Up – Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Tags: curses, curse breaking, fairy tale elements Summary: When Magnus finds a wooden figure in the woods with familiar magic, he finds himself unexpectedly entangled in the life of a mortal he never even met before. ------------- Magnus is only meant to be passing through this part of his journey back to his father’s realm. His magic is running low so he’s conserving it for now, deciding to walk rather than portal which is the only reason he sees the figure in the woods. It looks like it’s made of twigs and branches, the form of an archer with a bow raised and arrow drawn. It looks as if it grew out of the very ground beneath it. A guardian spirit of the woods, perhaps? A shrine of sorts?

It pulls to Magnus, drawing him near, and he can feel something familiar about it. He can sense magic, though it’s heavily veiled, just the slightest hint of it calling out to him.

“Who are you?” he asks, circling the figure.

He doesn’t get a response, but he does hear the sounds of a town nearby and wonders if the people there will have an answer instead. He’s only meant to be passing through… but a quick stop won’t do any harm, right?

---

Magnus finds the local bard more than willing to tell him all about Alexander Lightwood, the brother of the town’s weapons smith, who was cursed and turned into the figure Magnus came across in the woods.

“The man who did it said that it was to keep something from happening in his future… that it was foretold Alec’s very existence would turn his son against him and bring about the warlock’s downfall. So he put a curse on him to remain in that form.”

A curse of that nature… it’s powerful. Magnus knows because it’s something he’s capable of himself. Someone else hears Simon talking and comes over with a story of how this Alexander put himself in front of a wild wolf to protect a child who wandered too far from town on her own, and another chimes in with a recollection of a time Alec stayed up for days on end when illness hit the village to make sure no family was without food or medicine.

It seems like the loss of this one man hit the village hard. “How long ago did it happen?”

“Eleven months, 2 weeks, and 4 days ago.”

The answer is immediate, coming from a blonde man in the corner who remained silent until now. A strange hush falls over the crowd that, up until that point, had been so caught up in their memories they didn’t seem to notice him arrive.

The small crowd disperses quickly as the blonde comes over to them.

“You know,” he says. “Alec would hate people talking about him like this.”

“Sorry,” Magnus says.

“He never wanted attention. He did what was right, and that’s it. He never asked for thanks. He wasn’t a hero. He was just… Alec.”

The blonde leaves and Simon lets out a long sigh next to Magnus. “That’s Jace, Alec’s brother. He was out with him the day it happened. Always blamed himself for not being able to save him.”

Magnus hums to himself, finishing his drink and tossing a coin onto the table as he gets up to leave. Perhaps that’s enough prying for one night.

---

He’s only halfway to the inn when a form steps out in front of him, blocking his path. It doesn’t take him long to recognize it as Jace.

“What are you doing here?” Jace asks.

“Just passing through,” Magnus says.

“Are you a warlock?” Jace demands.

Magnus considers lying. Warlocks are clearly not Jace’s favorite for obvious reasons, but Magnus gets the feeling that if he’s caught in that lie it’d be worse than telling the truth outright.

“Yes,” he admits slowly. “I am.”

“You look an awful lot like the one who cursed my brother.” It’s as much an observation as it is an accusation.

“You think if I cursed your brother I’d show back up to ask questions about him?” Magnus isn’t sure what Jace is aiming at here.

“No. I just… if you know who it was. If you’re protecting them…”

“I don’t,” Magnus says, but even as the words leave his mouth he realizes that isn’t entirely true. He doesn’t know, not for certain, but if it was a warlock who looked like Magnus, cursing someone to protect his own legacy… he might have an idea, but he isn’t about to say it out loud. Not until he’s certain.

“I promise I don’t mean you or your town any harm,” Magnus swears. “But if you want me to leave, I will.”

Jace looks him up and down. “You can leave in the morning.” It isn’t a suggestion.

Magnus nods. “Thank you. And for what it’s worth, I truly am sorry about your brother.”

“Me too,” Jace says before leaving back towards the tavern, leaving Magnus with a lot to consider during what ends up being a restless night.

---

Magnus wakes up in the morning with every intention of leaving. He doesn’t know these people. He doesn’t owe them anything. He has an entire Kingdom waiting for him, a life of power and wealth when he returns to his father’s realm from his time studying abroad. He knows that his father is ruthless in battle and that he can be cruel... but surely he isn’t cruel enough to take the life of an innocent over some nonsense prophecy?

He takes his bag and walks back out of town the same way he came… past the figure he now knows to be Alexander Lightwood in the woods. He should continue to walk past it. He should leave it behind and not look back.

But he can’t.

Magnus turns towards the twisting wood, running his fingers gently over the curves that make up the shoulder, the ones that twist their way down his back. “It wasn’t you that felt familiar,” Magnus mutters to no one in particular. “It was the magic that made you this way.” Now that he knows what he’s looking for Magnus senses it almost immediately. The sort of magic that could bind someone permanently like this… it wasn’t just everyday magic. This took years of practice. This was dark magic, the very kind he’d sworn off during his time away from home with the realization that there were other options.

“I believe you were told to leave, Warlock.”

The words come from a female with black hair and fierce eyes which narrow at him as her hands go to rest on the hilt of a blade at her hip.

“That won’t be necessary,” Magnus says, eyeing the weapon. “Isabelle, I’m guessing?”

“Please,” she says. “Spare us any more pain and just go.”

“What if,” Magnus starts slowly. “What if I can help him?”

“The warlock told Jace the spell was bound by blood,” Isabelle says, shaking her head.

“Yes,” Magnus agrees. “And if my suspicion is correct, then my blood should work just as well as my father’s to counter the curse.”

A look of realization dawns on Isabelle at that, and the weapon is drawn now, raised at him though she makes no move forward.

“I told you that won’t be necessary,” Magnus repeats. “If my father is the warlock behind this, I can find a way to undo it. If you’ll let me, I’d like to stay and try.”

“As if I’d let you leave now,” Isabelle huffs. “Let’s go.”

---

Magnus knows the other implications of the warlock behind Alexander’s curse being his father - that means that, somehow, Asmodus had it in his head that Alec would corrupt Magnus leading to Asmodeus’ downfall. That his own fate is so closely intertwined with that of a mortal he’s never met before… It’s a lot, even for Magnus, but if this is even indirectly his fault then he owes it to the people here to try and help.

Under very close watch, most often by Jace or Isabelle, Magnus is allowed to brew small batches of potions to try on Alexander’s form and to try and pull energy from him to better pinpoint exactly what was done to leave him like that. Magnus questions Jace as much as Jace questions him, trying to get any detail from the day this happened that might help him narrow down the wide variety of magic that might’ve been used.

The longer he remains in the town the closer he grows to not only Jace and Isabelle but so many others. Simon, Clary and her mother Jocelyn, Alexander’s mother Maryse and youngest sibling Max.

It’s entirely accidental when Magnus gets the breakthrough he needs - cutting his finger on a weathered section of wood, a drop of his blood falls onto some of the wood at the base of Alexander’s figure. Magnus watches as the wood reacts to it, opening themselves where it touched, moving out towards the blood, before closing again around it.

Of course. Magnus lets out a sharp, derisive laugh.

“What’s so funny?” Jace asks with narrowed eyes.

“It’s a self-fulfilling prophecy. If my father never did this… I would’ve passed by this place without a second thought. I never would’ve stopped. I never would’ve asked questions. I never would’ve gotten invested in the lives of people I have no business caring about.”

“What are you talking about?” Jace asks.

“What causes my father’s ruin is going to be the very act he performed to prevent it. I think I know how to free your brother. But I need to prepare something first.”

---

Magnus holds a jar of blood and a handwritten letter, one in each hand, as he stands before Jace and Isabelle.

“I know a ritual that I believe will bring Alexander back,” Magnus begins. “But it’s a ritual of transference.”

“What does that mean?” Isabelle asks.

“It means it doesn’t break the curse, it only transfers it to someone else,” Magnus admits. He watches the uneasy look that the two siblings share over the idea that Alexander can be freed but at the cost of someone else’s entrapment.

“I’ll-” Jace immediately begins to volunteer, but Magnus holds a hand up to stop him.

“I’m going to do it,” Magnus says the words to the surprise of everyone, even a little bit himself because up until that moment he hadn’t been sure he wouldn’t take the inevitable offer from Jace or Isabelle he correctly anticipated. “Under one condition.”

He doesn’t fault them for the skeptical looks he receives. “What?”

“Give this to Alexander when he’s back.” Magnus holds out the jar and parchment. “It’s everything he’ll need to break the curse completely and release me.”

Jace steps forward to take both objects from Magnus, immediately opening the parchment to skim its contents.

“Why not do it yourself?” He asks, holding up the instructions.

“Because once someone is under this curse for more than a full year the petrification is permanent, and they’re trapped in this form for eternity. And by your recollection, if it is accurate, that only leaves us-”

“Until tomorrow,” Jace breaths out, eyes wide with horror at how close they came to nearly losing Alexander forever.

Magnus nods. “So once the ritual is complete I have a year for Alexander to break the curse.”

“And what if he doesn’t? What if you free him and we leave you out here to petrify?” Isabelle questions.

“That is a very real possibility,” Magnus agrees. “But if your Alexander is half the person this town has built him up to be, he’ll do it. I only ask you give him that and allow him the option to decide.”

Magnus knows the risks involved - it’s part of the reason he won’t allow anyone else to take Alexander’s place but himself. Should he fail to do what needs to be done and return within the year he would never be able to forgive himself for simply trading Alexander’s life for Jace’s, even if Jace would agree. This is, after all, partially because of him. If anyone should be made to suffer for his father’s sins it should be him, it feels only right.

Magnus begins to draw the sigils he needs on the ground, waiting until the moon begins to rise and hangs at just the right angle in the sky before he calls upon the power needed for the transference ritual. He takes out a small blade to cut a deep line into his palm, wincing as he drips the blood first over the sigils then onto the wood encasing Alexander.

As the branches begin to retreat into the ground to reveal Alexander Lightwood’s human form again they rise up again where Magnus stands. Magnus takes very deliberate final breaths of fresh air before the stasis hits.

He hopes he isn’t making a horrible mistake with his last conscious thought before the darkness consumes him, and everything goes black.

----

The first thing Magnus registers as he comes to is the very attractive pair of hazel eyes staring back at him.

“What a gorgeous vision to behold,” Magnus says. “Are you here to rescue me, or are you an angel and I’ve died and gone to heaven?”

The hazel eyes roll, and Magnus misses them for the moment they retreat back behind thickly lashed eyelids.

“Perhaps I should’ve listened to Jace and let you remain cursed,” the man says.

Magnus gasps. “And I thought we were friends,” he accuses, eyes turning to Jace. The dramatics are entirely forced, meant to cover the terrifying sense of relief he feels at the knowledge that his trust in a man he’s never met before wasn’t misplaced.

“I didn’t say he should let you die,” Jace defends. “I simply stated it was too dangerous and that I wouldn’t go through with it if I were him.”

“That’s the same thing as letting him die, Jace,” Isabelle points out with an elbow to his ribs. Seeing the three of them together like this feels… complete, somehow, in a way they hadn’t before. Jace and Isabelle’s smiles are easier than when he saw them last.

“You must be Alexander,” Magnus observes. He looks down to see the last of the branches retreating back into the ground below, as well as the markings on the ground in deep crimson. “Nice to properly meet you. I must say, the stories hardly did you justice.”

“Please tell me I didn’t go through all the trouble of saving your life just so you could flirt, Magnus,” a voice chimes in from behind him and Magnus spins with a grin to see Ragnor Fell standing there, his arms crossed and his head shaking disapprovingly.

“You’d be bored if I petrified into a tree and you know it,” Magnus huffs. “I knew you’d help him.”

“Of course I did. But your father’s blood? Honestly, Magnus, is nothing ever easy with you?”

Magnus hums as he considers his answer. “Not usually, no.”

He turns back to Alexander. “Did you… is he…” the spell to break the curse required the blood of his father mixed with his own. It didn’t necessarily call for the person’s death, but Magnus wouldn’t be surprised if that’d been the only way. He certainly wouldn’t blame them.

“He’s alive,” Alexander says, not looking particularly pleased about it. “But he bled enough as he fled that I could collect it for the spell.”

“Right.” Magnus nods, not sure if he’s disappointed or relieved at the news. He certainly can’t go back now, not knowing what he does about the sort of person his father truly is. “Well then, I suppose we should get to work.”

“What do you mean?” Alexander asks.

“You heard the prophecy - you’re to turn me against my father and bring about his downfall. So, Alexander? What do you say?” There’s a hint of a challenge to Magnus’ tone, but it’s a friendly one, a smile playing at the corners of his lips.

Should Alec say no and send him away, well, at least things turned out alright in the end. He’s alive, after all, and with quite the story to tell from it. But if Alec agrees…

“How about you stay for dinner, and we can discuss the potential downfalls of kings over drinks afterward?” Alexander offers instead.

“Drinks sound good,” Magnus agrees easily. “Breakfast sounds even better,” he adds with a suggestive wink that has Alexander flushing crimson.

“I can turn him back into a tree-” Ragnor offers helpfully, but Alec recovers quickly and shakes his head.

“No need,” Alec says. “I believe I can handle him from here.” Alec is already casually turning to walk back to the village as he adds over his shoulder, “I think he’ll find the breakfast at the inn he’ll be sleeping at just fine.”

Ragnor snorts at Alec’s response, and Magnus, caught off guard, watches as Alec, Jace, and Isabelle start off ahead, laughing.

“I like that one,” Ragnor admits.

“Yeah,” Magnus agrees, taking off after them. “Me too.”

#malec #magnus bane #alec lightwood #shadowhunters #ShadowhunterBingo #jace herondale #isabelle lightwood #simon lewis #ragnor fell #this one was fun! and an idea i've had for a little while to play with #long post #elle writes a few deadbeat lines

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ask-elementalhermitcraft · 6 years ago

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O V E R C L O C K

Hello! Mod Seagrass here, posting another story for your viewing pleasure. Hope you enjoy! OVERCLOCK ( 2.9k ; hurt/comfort) In the former fic, I explored the details of the interaction between redstone and electricity/lightning. In Overclock, that power is taken to an extreme--with devastating consequences. TW: injury, electrocution, rather graphic description of pain

They’re all fighting their best. It’s just a skirmish battle, nothing special, but who would they be if they didn’t put 100% into each and every fight? Habituality is the enemy of creativity, Joe’s said, and they’re inclined to stick by what he says even if they are on different sides. He’s always been a smart man.

Speaking of Joe, the other’s hunched over someone’s body trying to heal the nasty after effects of electrocution. He’s sorry, he thinks. But in the words of Joe himself, All’s fair in love and war.

—

Doc had called Mumbo over, with a glint in his eyes, and for a second he panics: had he been found out? Had he been discovered, as the mole he was? It’s an entirely logical path to take, he thinks. After all, Doc’s a pretty scary guy when he’s mad; wouldn’t want to be on the wrong side of that.

He can’t hurt Mumbo directly with his element, seeing as how Mumbo would just get powered up by the charge, but he’s got plenty of other teammates that could do whatever damage they wanted without repercussions—and considering the loyalty that they’ve got to their leader (not you not you not you), it wouldn’t be a fun time.

There’s a gentle shk-shk sound, and Mumbo picks his way over to see a stack of papers spread out on the table and a small stack of fireworks. “So, what’s all this for?” He’s relieved out of his mind that those are not his personal papers that somehow Doc had discovered.

“We’ve received intel that they’re going to hit on our southern border at around 20 ticks this night. Not too bad, from what I’ve heard, but still—a loss of a pet bird stings the same as the loss of a loved one.”

Mumbo had known that already, had been warned to stay out of this fight if he could. They didn’t want him getting accidentally hurt in a struggle, and risk outing himself. He’d been very, very careful to avoid taking pain medicine in any way when around team STAR, for fear of his mouth blabbering something the rest of him resolutely did not want to say, but accidents did happen—better to stay on the safe side.

“And we’re going to…?”

“We’re going to fight back, of course. Don’t want to get into another fight, but that’s how it is,” he says with a shrug. “Ready?”

Ah. Damn. “Where’s the others?”

“Don’t need ‘em, I think. I wouldn’t want to bother them, it’s better for them to get their sleep. And just between you and me, we both know you weren’t sleeping tonight anyways.”

His blood runs ice-cold. He couldn’t have, he was so careful—

“Lighten up, man. Meant nothing by it, just wanted to say that I’ve noticed you’re a light sleeper. Now, are we ready or not?”

He nods. Better get this over with. “Yeah, let me just grab my gear. I’ll be ready in a few.”

Tucking a notebook into his suit, Mumbo rushes to grab whatever he can. Emergency supplies, healing items, the like. Hopefully they wouldn’t hit as hard, since they knew him…

—

The moon’s rising high over the swamp, and all that she hears is the sound of crackling thunder striking down again and again. It’s just him and Doc, and he’s fallen easily into his role: provide defense to match Doc’s offense.

He knows that G-Team would have most likely more members than they did, but he couldn’t quite manage to see them, is all. Joe’s here, he knows; wouldn’t want to leave their main healer behind. Iskall’s here, obviously—of course they’d bring him to a damned swamp biome. He suspects Stress is here, he can hear a quiet shattering sound echoing every now and then. And Grian’s here too, giving him a panicked glance before taking off again to try to channel some power towards Mumbo to knock him off his feet.

A powerful group, to be sure. He was almost hoping that he and Doc would be beat quickly and they could go back to the base. Luck, it seemed, had other plans.

—

The tide of battle changes rapidly when Doc realizes the swamp water conducts electricity. So far he’s been directing it at various hermits, most often Grian (he whispers in an aside to Mumbo, take out the leader and you take the whole team out) but it’s been doing minimal damage and Doc’s not willing to use their trump card quite yet.

It’s understandable, then, how his eyes light up upon the crackle that rises from the earth when he slams his trident down in frustration. Eyes darting to the side, he asks a silent question: Do you see? Can you see the potential? Mumbo nods, torn. His team or victory.

Doc’s either too absorbed to notice the conflict, or just doesn’t care. He yells silent victory to the moon, and buries the trident into the earth with a shout: “Have fun!”

It takes a while for it to sink in, but Doc is steadfast. He’s clutching the trident between his hands so tight his knuckles are whitening, supercharging it up with thousands of volts at once and dear lord it’s terrifying to watch. It’s quickly becoming a beacon in the middle of the swamp, and G-Team draws out of the shadows, attracted by the light as moths to a flame.

He almost cries out a warning then, cries out that this will hurt bad. It’s fine for him, he thinks. It’s fine for him to get thousands of volts running through his body—it just recharges him, tips him over his natural limit and grants him a rush of almost unlimited power. For his team? It’ll be bad. Doc won’t hurt them seriously enough to be out of commission forever (for all his power, he’s not a harsh or cruel man), and he sees Joe as a silent sparrow perched in a birch tree, but the experience is still quite harrowing—and he’d prefer to spare his team that pain.

He pushes it down. Pushes down the cry on his lips, and taps Doc on the shoulder—should he take to the trees? Doc responds with a nod. Hit Grian while he’s down, he says in his eyes. Remember. It’s like a house of cards—one falls and they all fall with it. He doesn’t want to, but. They should understand.

He flees.

—

He’s sitting next to Joe, who’s checking him for any injuries and quietly tsk’ing over scratches from months ago. He misses him, he thinks. They’ll be “enemies” again in a second, but it’s nice to snatch moments like this where he can.

Mumbo knows what moment he’s waiting for. Could see it in Doc’s eyes as clear as anything. He’s waiting for Grian to land, to come face Doc in the swamp. Grian’s flight is limited, free as though he might seem, and it must run out eventually.

When Grian lands, knees bent, a picture of perfect poise, several things happen in rapid succession.

Joe tenses up next to him.

The rest of G-Team floods out of the relative safety of the boggy swampland, joining Grian in the water.

A ripple runs along the riverbank, heading for Doc. (Iskall’s a smart one, he thinks. Good man.)

Doc notices the ripple, bares his teeth in some semblance of a grin, and twists the trident.

And then.

And then, electricity lights up the night sky brighter than day.

It arcs and sweeps across the water, jumping and twisting and weaving around like it was almost eager to free itself.

It runs through the water, through the millions of particles of water, and strikes G-Team like star come down from the heavens.

It hits Iskall first. It hits him as he’s attempting to manipulate this biome further into their favor, it hits him underwater and hits him hard. When he comes back up (after a long time, too long, he thinks) he’s gasping and his body is sparking all over like he’s about to explode. The pain’s clear in his eyes, and he flees from the water, dragging himself out with a pained grimace and clenched teeth. One down.

The electricity snakes towards Stress next. She’s got a little more warning, not quite the brutal direct hit Iskall took, but she’s equally ineffective in the face of the combination of devastating power and the perfect medium to deliver it. Ice forms under her feet as she tries to freeze the water fast enough to stop the electricity and fast enough for her to get away, but the speed at which the electricity arrives—it shatters under her like glass. It frames her face in a strange halo for half a second before slamming her to the ground under its force, and she manages to gather her wits enough to stumble off the swamp, thin snow-melt ice under her; hands trembling and voice shaking as she calls a warning to Stay out of the water, for the love of god, (watch yourself watch yourself and maybe you won’t get hurt the way we did).

Joe’s watching, horrified, for half a second before he snaps out of his trance and sprints to them to do what he can. They’re healing up, slowly, and would probably try to get back into battle later—but that doesn’t matter now. What matters is Grian, and Doc standing across from him with the same grin carved into his face.

He’s in shock, Mumbo thinks. At how fast his team was taken out, at how they knew of the attack. It’s the split second of hesitation before he unfurls his wings to try to take off again that seals his fate.

Grian crouches down, ready to leap up, and a single tip of his wings skim the water. Doc twists the trident again, forcefully, and then. Blue lightning leaps up, eagerly waiting to consume and twist and burn whatever it can find. And it happens to find Grian’s wings dipped ever-so-slightly into the water.

There’s a charred scent in the air, and Grian’s eyes are blown wide open. He can see the moon. There’s a little sound, and then. He tips over, falling into the water. Doc hurriedly shuts off the power (that much all over his body would hurt him more than was necessary or recoverable, he thinks) and gestures, searching the trees with his eyes.

Joe’s got his hands tied with the other two, and Grian’s just lying there. Not able to get up, not able to take off, essentially dead in the water, he thinks in some sort of morbid humor. He doesn’t want to hurt Grian. Neither does Doc, he knows, but Mumbo’s got the barrier of his mole status to fight through every single time he looks to injure with intent. He takes a deep breath (sorry sorry sorry) and steps out behind Grian, about to thrust his hand forward and bring him down even further, when.

Stress shouts, “Go! Get up!” and sends a wave of ice through her scream to lift Grian in the air. It boosts him up, launches him into the air, and Grian shakes out his waterlogged, heavily injured wings in the brief time Stress bought him enough to gain a few feet into the air.

No! If he fights, they all fight, and I can’t have the battle continuing. I can’t risk it. (They can’t get hurt further by me and Doc.)

He justifies it that way in his head, justifies leaping up behind his figure silhouetted in the moonlight to deliver a blow with redstone he has ready to Grian’s head—hopefully enough to knock him out.

It’s at that moment Doc lets out a cry of anger, and sends a bolt streaking through the air above Grian’s head to force him to flinch out of the air. It’s at that moment he slams his trident in frustration into the water again. And it’s at that moment that Mumbo accidentally takes the strike meant for Grian, and slams into the water. The still charged water. The water which is currently overflowing with raw elemental power, and looking for an outlet.

He thinks he’s fine for the brief half second he sinks into the water, thinks he’ll be able to stand it as he’s done before and maybe even receive some sort of boost. Those thoughts are dispelled in the next instant.

—

Energy’s flowing through his body and out, circling and cycling through with no regard for the mortal vessel it’s being held in, and he thinks he understands what death is.

he feels the moon

the stars

the water, the sky, the universe, he thinks he tastes blood on his lips.

he can’t taste much of anything now, he thinks. he’s raw power, unfiltered, screaming to be let free to be let out to be uncaged

He thinks he forgot his name. Did he have one?

He’s the universe. He’s the starry night blinking out a message. He’s a signal, a beacon, every single message sent out in the universe, desperately seeking a response, it hurtsithurtsithurts

He’s just a mass of carbon of raw spacedust crumbling as the sky turns and the earth turns or maybe they’re one and the same and he’s just a dot in the universe

He’s falling apart the longer it goes on, he thinks. Or maybe he doesn’t. He can’t tell anymore, the difference between him and the ground and the water he can’t remember what he was doing

He thinks he hears screaming, from far beyond. From the edge of the world, maybe.

There’s too much power arcing through him, too much for him to handle, there’s no way to direct it because how can you direct the ocean? Without direction it’s unhinged, just passing through, using him as a train station, leaving pain and pain and pain in its wake.

Hey, something shouts. Hey, no, wake up, you’re not dying on my watch, d’you hear me? Wake up! Wake up! You have to wake up!

He wants to. Maybe. It’d hurt more if he opened his eyes, right? It’d be a lot easier to just give himself over to the raw power clearly looking to burn and consume anything in its wake. He can’t tell what he wants anymore.

I don’t care if it hurts! Wake UP! Joe, work faster, please, I swear I’m not trying to rush you but do you hear it? The stuff he’s saying?

He doesn’t know what’s happening. Should he be awake? He tries to pry his eyes (eyes?) open, and is immediately greeted with overwhelming pain. Everything is too much, too bright too dark too cold too hot and he can’t stand it, he thinks that the overload that had been streaming through his body would almost be preferable. “Oh, thank God, you’re finally awake.” Who…?

Joe looks up from his work to glare at Mumbo. He gives a small, tight-lipped shake of the head, speaking a thousand words in a gesture. Had G-Team lost then?

“Hey. Hey. Look at me. How many fingers am I holding up.” He’s starting to recognize faces and shapes again, which means he unfortunately has the displeasure of seeing Doc’s face looming over him. “I won’t hesitate to slap you awake again.”

He opens his mouth, hoping he hasn’t forgotten how to talk, and croaks out, “Four.”

“Good. You’re awake and coherent, that’s gotta count for something—right?” Doc’s voice lilts up in worry on the last phrase, and Mumbo wonders: what exactly…happened? “You don’t know?” Oh. He’d said it aloud.

Doc’s face tightens. “To put it in short terms, you took the bolt I aimed above Grian. I was supercharged, already had been from the power I took earlier, and when that combined with you, that hit hard. Hard enough to knock you out of the air. Normally, it would’ve been fine, I like to think.” Oh. Then what— “When you fell down into the water, you took the full force of the power I’d discharged into it. Remember, I slammed my trident into the water earlier? That had kept the water sparking, electricity looking for an outlet. And, well. You happened to be there when you did.”

“Why aren’t I dead, Doc?” He thought he had been, maybe. He didn’t know.

“I think you responded that way to my powers because of the unique way our elements interact. I don’t know. Don’t care, really,” he said. His voice was tight with some emotion—anger? It seemed they’d either lost or reached some sort of draw, seeing as how Joe was currently over at his side.

“Listen, I’m really very sorry for what happened, it was a simple mistake. I’ll work in the future to avoid clashing like that, sorry—” Mumbo gets cut off by Joe standing up.

“You should be stable. Take care of yourself, Mumbo,” he says, giving him another look. “No deaths on my watch.” Joe walks over to G-Team, where Stress and Iskall are supporting a limping Grian, and starts to take the trek back to their base.

Mumbo looks to break the awkward silence settling between them. “Anyways, yeah, like I said, sorry about all that—”

Doc leans over and grabs him in an even more awkward hug, then lets go in an instant.

“I, uh, —”

“Listen. I wasn't mad because we didn’t win the battle or whatever. I was worried, understand?”

Mumbo sits in silence.

“A good leader looks out for their team. Remember that. And, for what it’s worth? I’m glad you’re okay.”

“Thanks, Doc.”

“Let’s go back to base. Recuperate before the next battle.”

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hyungbean · 7 years ago

Text

My Heart Beats For You | Sehun Soulmate!AU

Prompt: “When you look at me heart starts to race. GOD, even when you walk by me my heart starts running!”

Prologue - Part 1 - Part 2

Genre: Fluff, Angst, Attempted Humor?

“I just.. don’t understand.”

“Byun Baekhyun. I swear if you don’t leave me alone I will shove you to Greenland. I’m trying to study, just like everyone else in this damned library.”.

Baekhyun looked at me with a raised eyebrow and smirk causing me to pick up one of my textbooks and crane my hand back, in feign threat.

“Yah! Yah! Alright, Alright. Don’t damage the money maker you bean.” He said before resting his face on his hands, giving me the most innocent smile he could pull.

Rolling my eyes, I picked up my pen and started jotting some notes down on what seemed like the hundredth paper I’ve used today.

While that was happening, Baekhyun was somewhat deep in thought, a blank expression washing over his once playful one.

“What was I saying…? Oh! But whyyy, I mean how can you be friends with all of us but Sehun! You are nothing like the girls I’ve seen here, they practically jump onto Sehun. It just doesn’t make any sens—“

Before he could continue is blubbering, my pen was suddenly hovering above my paper… and then being hurled at his face.

The pen merely tapped his forehead before descending onto the table with a rather loud tap.

The weak action caused him to wear a blank and confused facial expression leading to me rolling my eyes.

“Hyun. Look. I’m not like the rest of the female body here at this school. Besides, remember when you and Chan set me up with him? He was two hours late, not to mention he spilled lasagna on me! The lasagna. Don’t even get me started on the fact that he has probably slept with all the girls around here AND their mothers!”.

At my mini rant, Baekhyun proceeded to give me the puppy eyes and practically jump onto the table, the only thing stopping him was the overwhelming amount of paper scattered on the dark wooden table.

“Look just don’t judge him too quickly, and he has definitely not slept with every girl here, you included. Besides be grateful, Chan and I did you a favor. We won you your very first date with someone who is actually remotely attractive. You could say we’re your fairy godmothers.”.

With that he picked up his bag and walked off, most likely going to find Chanyeol or Jongdae so that they could go gossip or weird out a bunch of girls in Sehun’s fan club.

f a n c l u b.

“What a dork. Fairy Godmothers. Tsk.” I whispered and rolled my eyes and checking the time in excitement, looking forward to when I could bippity-boppity-boo myself the hell out of this school.

“Jisoo! I’m home!” I quickly kicked the wooden door with my heel, resulting in the door swinging shut with a loud thud. The sudden bang from the strong force, causing me to flinch and take on an expression of grimace.

Before I could think too much more about the abrupt slamming of the apartment door, Jisoo quickly appeared from the little kitchen doorway.

“hey Y/N, mom and dad called. They asked about how you were and if you had any luck with finding your soulmate-” she shrugged and looked at you with a grin before continuing.”- I obviously said that you’re still lonely as ever because come on-”

Before she could continue I cut in with fake offense, “Obviously what?”

“Well I mean.. it’s just, we were referring to the person who refuses to date because of the lasagna disaster and decides to mope around eating ramen and watching Spongebob.”.

I shrugged in response, “You’re right. But I don’t know if I should just refer to them as aunt and uncle.. I mean technically they aren’t my parents.”

Jisoo quickly shook her head, walking over and smacking the back of my head as if I had accidentally bought the wrong kind of pads and she would now resort to bleeding out on the carpet.

“Don’t be stupid. Mom and dad love you very much and besides where is this all coming from? You’ve been calling them your parents for the past 10 years, besides its not like you can even remember your parents Y/N. Anddd even though you’re my cousin, you’re like a sister to me so if you don’t stop with the nonsense, I’ll hit you with a spatula.”.

My mouth twitched up as she hurriedly walked back to the kitchen, most likely to attempt at baking again, which would just end up in an apartment of grey smoke and burnt cookies that could pass for decorative stones.

Sometimes I wish that I could remember who they were, what they did for a living.. what cheesy music they liked.. what type of parents they had been.. if only someone remembered.

“mummy? where’s dad? why are you crying?”

“Y/N. Dad’s alright he’s just.. busy. You have to get to school sweetheart, can’t be late for the last day of second grade! You have to go celebrate!” the woman responded with a fake cheerful tone, quickly wiping the salty drops from her red cheeks.

“Yeh! But can we get some lasagna on the way back?” young Y/N responded, oblivious to the fact that everything wasn’t okay.

“Sure, whatever you want.”

The mind of a 7 year old toddler who thought that the world was all sunshine and giggles, couldn’t detect that there was something wrong. Although, even if she could’ve sensed the eerie difference in her mother’s mood and the heavy atmosphere, fate was already sealed like ink on paper.

The world was really twisted but just how twisted?

That day, Y/N sat at her regular bench waiting for mother to come and pick her up, seconds became minutes, minutes became hours, and without realizing it, it was already three hours after school ended.

The scratching of dead leaves, the ones that descended from the tall oak trees, on the grey pavement and the gusts of cool wind, like a supernatural howl, were all that kept Y/N company.

Although it didn’t seem like it, the world seemed to gift Y/N a present after taking away something that a person should never have to lose at such an age, her parents.

And so the silence was broken, replaced with heavy footsteps and a shocked voice. Replaced with someone that Y/N would grow up with, her oldest friend.

“Y/N? It’s nearly half passed five, why are you still here?”

Jisoo.

“I haven’t been picked up yet. Why are you still here Jisoo?”

“After school club, besides my mom is going to take me out to eat to celebrate my promotion. I’m going to middle school next year chump.”

Young Jisoo proceeded to ruffle the youngling’s hair

“My mom was supposed to take me to go eat today too.”

“oh, well you can come with us instead if your mom is busy.”

Jisoo sat herself next to Y/N on the bench, talking about nonsense until they could be picked up, neither of them knowing that the day would take a horrid turn and change Y/N’s life forever.

“What? What about Y/N? What about the family?”

Jisoo and I stopped laughing and turning to look at the woman with a quizzical expression.

She quickly walked to the kitchen, leaning against the marble counter, back facing the confused children.

Not understanding the seriousness of the situation, they decided to become spies and eavesdrop on the phone call.

They quickly ran to doorway of the kitchen, leaning on the wall and bringing their index finger up to their lips.

Peeking their head from behind the wall, they listened intently trying to make mean of the random words being spewed out frantically.

“Jiwoo? … didn’t my sister operate on him though?… didn’t make it? when?.. what about my sister?.. dead?.. Suicide?”.

Jisoo quickly realizing what was happening, pulled Y/N back to the living room and decided to try and crack some jokes, giving the child temporary happiness that would just fall flat the next morning.

Parents dead and nothing to go back to.

There was little to almost no time to mourn over a deceased friend or family member, when they would soon be wiped away, like they never existed.

And that’s what happened, Kim Jiwoo and Kim Minseo seemed as though they had never existed just a mere week later.

The world was cruel, the deceased didn’t have a face in the world, after someone dies their loved ones and friends and anyone they’ve ever met or interacted with seem to forget that they were ever in their lives.

One day they would wake up and all recollection of the person would be as good as nothing.

Photos and videos, all gone like magic.

In a universe like Y/N’s the world was a peculiar place, from soulmates to reincarnation.

Getting a chance to live twice with the same identity and soulmate although with a different life and no memories of ever being alive previously. It all seemed too good to be true, the thought of being able to just die and restart over and over again. But.. luck runs dry, after the second time around they would be forced to move on to an afterlife, one where you would have to be separated from your soulmate. An afterlife where nothing happened, wandering in endless fields of tall grass or rice plants, where every minute that passes could be years on Earth.

Life is just a long road trip with many bumps, where the destination is unknown and undesired.

Life is life. What can we do?

Nothing.

End : Part 1

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