#wise midnight sun challenge

[simpuritysims]

Welcome to Crescent Isle, Biyu! Get swimming!

[asstrolo]

How Is Your Future Partner Like (Intuitive Reading)

midnights version!! Because I looooooove bluuuuue. This is an intuitive reading, meaning it's not based on tarot but on my own intuition and channeled messages. If this doesn't resonate with you it's ok, this is just for entertainment purpose.

pick a picture or a number very wisely because duh

pile 1 pile 2

pile 3 pile 4

pile one.

Hello pile one, for you I feel this strong sense of responsibility and duty towards your family or your job or studies and I can see you are a disciplined person or are used to taking care of things on your own. I know this should be about your partner but this is the vibe I'm getting from you right now. A lot of pressure for you for sure and you might be a romantic person that is too busy or too stressed to think of meeting people and stuff, you find social situations a little bit tedious too.

Your future partner might be somebody who is just as disciplined as you but they don't feel the overwhelming weight of disappointing people like you might feel. This is a person who takes care of their mental health as much as possible because they know that they won't be able to do a good job if they are stressed or tired, they are very responsible and might have been raised in a more laid-back household so they can allow themselves rest when is needed, or try to do the best for themselves mentally to be good at anything they have to be good at. Your future partner is someone who's charismatic but solitary, they try to present themselves as well put as they can because they like to show off and to look nice, this is someone who understands that looking good is an advantage. I see they're very ambitious and extremely individualistic, their sense of humor is very bizarre and they might do it on purpose to shock people or see what they'd do, this person is actually quite shy and doesn't like being surrounded with people for too long. When you two meet you'll probably won't like them, or feel a magnetic attraction to them that's almost inexplicable as you might think this person isn't your type, they will be attracted to you the second they see you. You two could be colleagues or friends or know each other but the relationship is never close until one day something just clicks. They will be fascinated by you and look up to you too, like they see a role model and a partner, they will feel very protective of you as well, you will feel very seen and appreciated by this person because they'll wanna listen to you and they rarely want to listen to people talk about themselves.

you or them might have these on their birtchart or synastry: Taurus Sun/Ascendant BIG Taurus energy so might be Taurus Stellium, 6th/7th house Synastry, Cancer Sun/Stellium, Water Moon, 11th house Stellium, Sun in 11th house, Aquarius Ascendant, Saturn-Venus Synastry, Venus in 10th house/11th house, Moon-Moon Synastry,

song:

pile two.

Hello pile two, for you I see you are an adventurous person, kind of always doing something, always thinking about a million things like your mind can't get any rest, you are very creative and love to talk about your creations. I know this should be about your partner but this is the vibe I'm getting from you right now. You really are restless in some way, hard time falling asleep and hard time focusing, if you feel something strongly you must do it, you also have a very good intuition and should work on it a little bit more, I feel like you've predicted things in your life people called you crazy for.

Your future partner is no fool, they're just like you. This is a person who is always plotting something and dealing with something, they're hard to get kind of people, is like they live in their own little world and are always looking for the next mental challenge. They probably were raised in a very controlling household or one that didn't approve of their ideas or condemned their kind of mentality, someone who has a difficult relationship with their family but keeps themselves occupied to not think of the hardships of their childhood, somebody who ran away or left their hometown, this is a person who's always been looking for more than what they've been taught and accepted the next challenge with open arms. This person is unusual in the sense they might like to wear baggy clothes or clothes that don't call much the attention, they don't take care of themselves as much aesthetically as they don't mind how they look to outside viewers but also it might be a statement to say "I don't care. I don't care about anything" when they do, they care about everything all the time and that's their ruin for them. They did NOT wanted a relationship when you two met, and might make you go through hard times or make you wait a lot until they confess their feelings, this person has a really hard time not rationalizing their emotions and you throw them off the edge. You are their soft spot, their weakness and they will find themselves, surprisingly, opening up to you like they never did with anybody, they might be just as intuitive as you and see something in you but it's harder for them to understand, you are a very special person and they see something very special in you.

you or them might have these on their birtchart or synastry: Virgo sun/Ascendant, 9th Stellium, Sagittarius Moon/Venus, Gemini Stellium/Ascendant, Venus-Uranus Synastry, Venus in 9th/3rd, Scorpio Sun/Ascendant, Water Ascendant, 11th Synastry, Big Air Stellium

song:

pile three

Hello pile three, for you I see a very explosive or impulsive personality, somebody who's not bending over anyone and who is very talkative, you have a child's heart and are a delight to be around, very extroverted for sure. I know this should be about your partner but this is the vibe I'm getting from you right now. You are unapologetic and know how to have fun, most of all you are a person that always tries to see the positive side of things and won't let bad things ruin your day or night for anything, is hard for you to fall asleep as is hard to wake up. You are also very loyal and compromise yourself to everything you seem worth of it.

Your future partner is someone more reserved and less impulsive, but that doesn't mean they're boring. This person is extremely attractive (hehe) and has a temper for sure, they are just more secretive about their movements and decide their next steps carefully. This is a person that doesn't take themselves as seriously as people think but likes to put in a show for people and likes to be seen as intimidating, they like being a more private person as they'd probably been raised or grew up in a household where their family was untrustworthy, could never take anything seriously or were very dramatic and self-centered. This person is very self-aware and also authoritative, they probably are the boss on their job or everybody trusts them to do things right. They like to wear winter clothes and dark colors, they give me Levi Ackerman vibes for some reason, somebody really intimidating but deep down doesn't give a damn. When you two meet this person is not immediately attracted to you or aren't even thinking of relationships, it's very probable you meet them when they're going through a breakup or a love disappoinment of some sort that makes them not want to engage with you, but you will like them almost immediately and try to get them no matter what. It'll work! Your perseverance and your obvious sexual attraction will make them fold for you sooner than later. I'm going to be honest, this feels like a friends with benefits kind of situation that progresses into a relationship, they will feel intrigued not for the sexual connection but the way you move and present yourself that makes them want to know you more which is not usual since they don't tend to go out of their way to meet people, they will be very impressed and feel like they never met someone like you and will become obsessed with your natural coolness and even the way you dress makes them like you even more. This person will adore you, they are very intense and can be kind of possessive of you as well, if you're into that kind of stuff.

you or them might have these on their birtchart or synastry: Aries Sun/Venus, Scorpio Venus, 8th Synastry, Leo Stellium, Pluto-Venus Synastry, Capricorn Sun/Ascendant, Sun/Venus in 10th house, Earth Mars, Mars-Venus Synastry, Libra Ascendant, 5th Synastry,

song:

pile four

Hello pile four, for you I see someone who's imagination makes them shy away from the world, a very sensitive and sensorial person and you are almost always sleep deprived for some reason you are definitely a night owl. I know this should be about your partner but this is the vibe I'm getting from you right now. You're a person who is used to bend and to give in, you don't like conflict and hate when people fight, your childhood could've been full of arguments and fights so that's why, now that you're older, you tend to give in even when you don't want to, you try to keep yourself busy to not think of sad things but you might be a pessimist at heart. You can be a person that sees themselves as "broken".

Your future partner is just as imaginative as you, but they express it wholeheartedly, they are free and have an almost childish mind, this person lives their truth every day and they hardly try to hide their personality, they might seem careless and immature but are very contemplative people and search for the answer of things always, they love to know and to read and to listen and to educate themselves. Somebody who likes to do well in everything and tries hard to prove themselves to people, this person might've grown up in a chaotic or closed off household that didn't always value knowledge but who's right and who isn't. They can get repetitive or very passionate about a topic, this person is very eccentric and loves to show off how much shit they know but not because they think they're better than someone but to make conversation and gain more knowledge from other people's perspective, they are pure at heart just like you are and can be dramatic or aloof but never mean and never to you. When you two meet the first one to fall will probably be you as you will love the way their mind works and how passionately they speak of their beliefs, you will feel immediately inspired by them but immediately feel left down, assuming they will never like you back. This person will be very shy in front of you all of a sudden and turn into a mess when you're around because they don't do romantic feelings very well, to be honest, your future partner will also feel like they aren't liked romantically by anyone because people might have told them they're weird or not good enough to be a partner, so they will too shy away. This relationship will not start immediately and might take a long time to develop until the both of you realize the other's feelings, and from then you'll try to go slowly but this relationship will feel so exciting it'd be difficult not to be happy about the future. This person will make your opinions valid and make you feel like you matter to someone unlike previous relationships, it will be a very cute and happy relationship for both of you, they will treat you like the most precious thing they know.

you or them might have these on their birtchart or synastry: Pisces Sun/Venus, Libra Stellium, 2th house Synastry, Aquarius Venus, Virgo Venus/Ascendant, Capricorn Stellium, Jupiter-Venus Synastry, Big Earth energy

song:

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THAT'S ALL HOES! REBLOG!

[fantasyinvader]

@@randomnamelessI'll try to recall what I can.

In Birthright, the Japanese version pushes that whatever happens is the result of your decision rather than blaming Garon. It is a consequence of your choice to join Hoshido. However, it also pretty much says that Nohr and it's people didn't have much of a choice. They go to war out of necessity in order to survive, but on top of that Garon won't hesitate to cut down anyone who dares oppose him. It's this threat that hangs over Xander and why he is so hesitant to challenge his father, whereas the translation made it sound like he does so often. So while you had the option to fight Garon, others are under duress to serve him.

If you look at it gameplay wise, this is how reflected in Conquest you can't grind through auxiliary battles whereas you can as the resource-rich Hoshido. But this goes into another aspect of the contrast, Hoshidian blades know no mercy. For most of the game, battles are to kill every last enemy on the screen including healers who can't fight back. This is by no mistake, as a support native to Birthright reveals that your forces send soldiers out to clean up after every battle, killing any injured soldiers left behind. So while Conquest-Corrin may try to keep casualties to a minimum by fighting non-lethally, Birthright-Corrin has no such hesitation until late in the route when Lilith dies. It's only after that point, alongside Ryoma learning how little resources Nohr has, that Hoshido shows mercy and maps change to taking out the commanders.

To Japanese players, these two factors together make Hoshido look bad. And that's on top of the implications that while your army dived deep into Nohrian territory, they abandoned the Hoshdian troops as the nations defences fell all the way back to the capital. This ties into how Conquest shows us what the player missed in Birthright, such as what happens after you attack Garon at the opera, or depicts Hoshido doing things like invading/moving troops through neutral territory. Birthright showed that Hoshido would try the same trap Zola attempted, whereas the Nohrian crew would reject such measures. Then there's how hostile the Kitsune are to outsiders due to Hoshidan's killing them for their furs, while showing no mercy when the Wolfskin were tricked into attacking them in Birthright.

Honestly, Ryoma comes across more as Boar-Dimitri than anything until his character growth kicks in when he offers mercy.

The thing is, however, you know Corrin's line at the end of Revelations about ending the night? That's a shot at both Conquest, know as Dark Moon Kingdom in Japan, and Birthright, known as Midnight Sun Kingdom. Both are meant to be “night” paths, whereas Revelation is meant to be the daybreak path.

[5sosfanfictioncatalogue]

Fics Based On 5sos Songs Masterlist

Always gonna want you back (ao3) - bewareofcamels calum/ashton G, 4k

Summary: They called it a "mental-health" - break over social media, even though it was more of a "Ashton broke up with Calum and now we kind of have a problem band wise" - break!

caught up in distractions (ao3) - bellawritess luke/calum T, 2k

Summary: “Come on, Calum. Clearly something’s wrong, you’re harassing Matt. Is this about Luke?”

Calum sighs. What a dumb question, he thinks. Everything is about Luke.

“He’s not here,” he says quietly.

emotions under pressure, wish you were here (ao3) - yehwellwhatever michael/luke T, 1k

Summary: Luke only loved Michael after midnight. It was better than nothing. Until it wasn’t.

Ghost of You (ao3) - Schokocookielover michael/luke N/R, 1k

Summary: One second. Every day, when he woke up, the world granted him one second of happiness and peace. Sometimes, the second seemed to pass in half the time, but other times, like today for instance, it seemed to slow down, as if it was slowly waking up itself. Taking its sweet time to move on as slowly as possible.

hang up the telephone (and just be here with me) (ao3) - bellawritess luke/ashton T, 1k

Summary: The rain wakes Ashton at seven in the morning, but the phone buzzing on the bedside table is what rouses Luke.

(He) looks so perfect (ao3) - ravenclaw5sos (orphan_account) michael/luke G, 434

Summary: As Michael pulled back, he smiled softly at Luke. "It's okay. You look cute, you look perfect."

Or, the one where Luke is being very awkward and Michael really really loves him :)

Here in the darkness, back where we started (ao3) - sunsetmagnolia luke/calum T, 4k

Summary: With no one caring who stays or leaves before morning, Calum disappears earlier and earlier from his own parties to steal that time with Luke instead. And Luke is always perfectly willing to be pulled away.

If I Can Dream Long Enough (ao3) - TeamAstrid G, 2k

Summary: Luke leans back, closes his eyes and lets the setting sun wash over his face, lets his fingers find a rhythm of their own. Third fret, fifth string. Tenth fret - his fingers hop up and down the guitar. Seventh fret. Fifth fret - no, keep the riff. He loses himself in it, until the wind and the birds and the distant, roaring cars fall silent in the face of the music he’s making by himself for the first time in eternity.

(An ode to making music in the toughest of times.)

If Walls Could Talk (ao3) - twinkylukey luke/ashton M, 1k

Summary: Just a little one-shot based on If Walls Could Talk by: 5SOS

i'm better than him (just saying) (ao3) - haveufoundwhaturlookingfor michael/luke T, 3k

Summary:: Luke's boyfriend is a total loser, and all of his friends keep telling him. Especially Michael, who's been in love with Luke for as long as he can remember. Michael's always there for Luke whenever his boyfriend treats him like garbage. But after a disastrous date, everything goes downhill, and Luke realizes that maybe Michael has been right this whole time.

i'm caught up in distractions (fatal attractions) (ao3) - mukelftv T, 1k

Summary: a ydgtp fic.

i wanna hold your hand while we’re growing up (ao3) - nothingliketherain (39_killer_queen) michael/calum T, 12k

Summary: 5 times Michael grabbed Calum’s hand over the years + 1 time Calum grabbed Michael’s

Just Saying (ao3) - flowercrownmikey michael/luke, luke/oc G, 3k

Summary: Song Challenge: Just Saying

Luke's boyfriend is an asshole and Michael really fucking hates him.

my feet don't dance (like they did with you) (ao3) - shouldabeenhim calum/ashton N/R, 1k

Summary: “Do you know my first thought when I was dancing with you that time at homecoming?” Ashton’s honey voice broke through Calum’s memories.

“No, what?” They were whispering, although Calum didn’t know exactly why. It was slightly more romantic that way, perhaps.

"I thought, this is the man I’m going to marry. The one I’m dancing with right now." Tears were streaming down Ashton’s face now. He paused to cough -- an awful, dry cough. "I thought you were an amazing dancer. You still are." He smiled a bittersweet smile. "I didn’t fall in love with you just for your dance moves, but I did ask you to dance because of them."

or -

Calum and Ashton's tragic love story

stained hearts (ao3) - galacticsugar luke/calum M, 28k

Summary: “I’m not really looking for a serious relationship right now.”

Okay. That’s okay. Good, even. Get to know each other before they get in too deep.

“But I liked spending time with you and I liked having sex with you and I’d like to do it again.” Luke squeezes Calum’s hand, pulling Calum’s gaze to his face. He’s smiling softly, eyes illuminated by the sun, starbursts in his pupils and shadows of his curls in perfect spirals on his shoulders. “If you want.”

Casual. Sure. Calum can do casual.

“I want.”

still running (back) to you (ao3) - jbhmalum ot4 T, 5k

Summary: “I don’t believe in soulmates,” Ashton says, crushing Luke’s heart until his next words restore it. “I still want to believe you three are mine.”

Mine. Luke mouths the word to himself, feeling a smile rise to his face. Ashton’s soulmates. Ashton’s, plain and simple. Luke wants them to be that.

or

3 times the boys are Luke's muses, and 1 time he tells them

Won't you please stop loving me to death? (Voodoo Doll) (ao3) - ravenclaw5sos (orphan_account) michael/luke T, 2k

Summary: "Oh, and did I say? Yesterday, he actually, like literally, had the nerve to c-"

But what Michael Clifford actually, like literally, had the nerve to do was never found out by Calum, as he had walked into his home and slammed the door behind him after attempting to say goodbye to Luke three times, with no success, due to the fact that the blond wouldn't stop talking about bloody Michael. Luke stared at the shut door for a minute, before sighing. "He actually had the nerve to call me hot! How dare he."

you'd tell me I'd be just fine (I know better now) (ao3) - lifewasradical luke/ashton T, 4k

Summary: “Can you drive?” Luke asks, picking at the skin around his nails absently, eyes still locked on Ashton. He pulls at a piece of skin hard enough that it stings, and even though he doesn’t look down, he knows it’s bleeding. The ache is minimal though, covered by numbness that refuses to let the pain breathe freely.

“Are you okay?” Ashton counters, brows furrowed deeply.

“Can you drive?” Luke says again, turning to look out the windshield, pretending Ashton isn’t there as he finally shifts the car into drive with a sigh.

[prosegalaxy]

"Aetheria's Awakening: The Battle of Light and Darkness"

In the mystical land of Aetheria, Elara was a young fairy who lived in a secluded glade. Her days were filled with dancing among the flowers and playing with her fairy friends. Little did she know that she held the key to saving their world from an ancient evil. One fateful day, Elara stumbled upon a hidden chamber, where she found a mysterious crystal. As she touched it, a surge of energy coursed through her veins, awakening a power she had never imagined. This newfound power came with a warning - it was the last hope to defeat the dragons and giants that threatened their realm. Elara's journey began when she met Zalaphar, a wise dragon who knew about the ancient prophecy. Together, they embarked on an adventure to gather allies from all corners of Aetheria. Along the way, Elara learned that sacrifices had to be made for the greater good, and friendships were forged with creatures once thought unimaginable. As the final battle approached, Elara's power grew stronger, enabling her to harness the elemental forces of Aetheria. With her newfound abilities, she challenged the ancient evil and its monstrous minions. The dragons, fairies, and giants fought side by side, transforming a world that had once been divided. In the end, Elara's sacrifice brought about the hopeful conclusion that Aetheria so desperately needed. The elements of the land returned to balance, and peace was restored. Elara's tale became a legend, reminding all of Aetheria that even the smallest beings can make a significant impact in the grand scheme of things. The sun dipped below the horizon, casting a warm orange glow over the land of Aetheria. Elara, a young fairy with vibrant emerald wings, flitted among the trees in the enchanted forest, her heart filled with excitement and anticipation. She had just learned about an ancient prophecy that spoke of a chosen one who would awaken to save Aetheria from dragons and an evil that threatened to consume the world. As Elara ventured deeper into the forest, she stumbled upon Zalaphar, a wise old dragon with scales as dark as midnight. Though they were from different worlds, Zalaphar could see the potential in Elara. He shared the prophecy with her, revealing that Elara was the chosen one destined to unite Aetheria's creatures and defeat the ancient evil. Together, they sought out allies from every corner of Aetheria - from the giants who guarded the sky-high mountains to the nimble foxes who darted through the forests. Each new friend brought hope and strength to their cause. As the group grew, so did Elara's power. In time, they confronted the monstrous minions of the ancient evil, battling fierce dragons and treacherous beasts. Each sacrifice made by Elara and her friends only strengthened their resolve. As they fought together, a bond formed between them - one of courage, friendship, and unwavering determination. In the final confrontation, Elara's newfound power allowed her to challenge the ancient evil itself. With the support of her allies and the wisdom of Zalaphar, she vanquished the darkness and restored peace to Aetheria. And so, a new era dawned in the land of mythical creatures - one filled with hope, unity, and the promise of a brighter future. The sun dipped below the horizon, casting a warm orange glow over the land of Aetheria. Elara, a young fairy with vibrant emerald wings, flitted among the trees in the enchanted forest, her heart filled with excitement and anticipation. She had just learned about an ancient prophecy that spoke of a chosen one who would awaken to save Aetheria from dragons and an evil that threatened to consume the world. As Elara ventured deeper into the forest, she stumbled upon Zalaphar, a wise old dragon with scales as dark as midnight. Though they were from different worlds, Zalaphar could see the potential in Elara. He shared the prophecy with her, revealing that Elara was the chosen one destined to unite Aetheria's creatures and defeat the ancient evil. Together, they sought out allies from every corner of Aetheria - from the giants who guarded the sky-high mountains to the nimble foxes who darted through the forests. Each new friend brought hope and strength to their cause. As the group grew, so did Elara's power. In time, they confronted the monstrous minions of the ancient evil, battling fierce dragons and treacherous beasts. Each sacrifice made by Elara and her friends only strengthened their resolve. As they fought together, a bond formed between them - one of courage, friendship, and unwavering determination. In the final confrontation, Elara's newfound power allowed her to challenge the ancient evil itself. With the support of her allies and the wisdom of Zalaphar, she vanquished the darkness and restored peace to Aetheria. And so, a new era dawned in the land of mythical creatures - one filled with hope, unity, and the promise of a brighter future. As Elara, the young fairy with vibrant wings of sapphire and emerald, flew through the enchanted skies of Aetheria, she couldn't help but marvel at the wondrous world around her. The towering mountains, lush forests, and sparkling rivers were unlike anything she had ever seen. Little did she know that her destiny lay hidden within these very lands. One day, while exploring a hidden grove, Elara stumbled upon a mysterious old tome. Its pages contained ancient prophecies and whispered secrets of the realm's mythical creatures. As she flipped through the pages, she found an eerie drawing of a dragon with a wise expression. Intrigued, she decided to follow the lead and seek out this enigmatic creature. Flying high above the clouds, Elara finally spotted Zalaphar, a magnificent dragon with shimmering scales that seemed to change colors at will. She approached him cautiously and asked about the prophecy. To her surprise, Zalaphar welcomed her with open wings and shared his knowledge. He told her of an ancient evil that threatened to consume Aetheria and its inhabitants, including the dragons themselves. "We must gather allies from every corner of Aetheria," Zalaphar urged. "Only by working together can we restore peace." Elara agreed and set off on a journey that would change her life forever. Along the way, she met creatures both fierce and friendly, forging friendships with giants, nymphs, and even an enigmatic shapeshifter named Rennan. As they journeyed deeper into the heart of Aetheria, Elara discovered her own hidden power: the ability to manipulate magic energy. This newfound strength would be crucial in their fight against the ancient evil. With each battle won and sacrifice made, Elara grew stronger and more determined, knowing that she was destined for greatness. In the end, Elara's growing power and unwavering spirit allowed her to challenge the ancient evil head-on, ultimately vanquishing it and restoring peace to Aetheria. Through teamwork, self-discovery, and sacrifice, Elara had transformed from a naive fairy into a heroine whose name would echo throughout the ages. And so, the Chronicles of Aetheria began with The Awakening, forever etching Elara's tale in the annals of history. In the heart of Aetheria, Elara, a young fairy with vibrant emerald wings, lived in the enchanting Fairy Grove. She spent her days studying ancient tomes and observing the world around her. One day, while exploring the depths of the library, she stumbled upon an old, tattered tome hidden beneath dusty volumes. As she opened it, a mysterious energy surged through her fingers, and she felt a sudden connection with the words on the page. The tome spoke of a prophecy that foretold the awakening of an ancient evil in Aetheria, a time when dragons would once again roam the skies, giants would stir the mountains, and fairies like Elara would face extinction. The only hope for salvation lay in the hands of one with the power to unite the mythical creatures of Aetheria against their common enemy. That very night, Elara was visited by Zalaphar, a wise old dragon who had been watching her from afar. With his scales shimmering like embers and his eyes filled with wisdom, Zalaphar revealed himself to be the keeper of the ancient prophecy. He explained that the time had come for Elara to fulfill her destiny and bring harmony back to Aetheria. Together, Elara and Zalaphar embarked on a perilous journey across Aetheria, seeking allies from every corner of the realm. Along their path, they encountered a noble giant named Thorgar, who pledged his might to their cause; a cunning fox-spirit named Fyra, whose speed and wit would prove invaluable; and an enchanting mermaid named Lira, whose song could soothe even the most ferocious of beasts. As they forged friendships with these mythical creatures, Elara discovered that her connection to the ancient tome had awakened a hidden power within her. With each encounter and challenge, she grew stronger and more confident in her abilities. United against the darkness, they fought relentlessly, their numbers swelling as others joined their cause. Finally, they confronted the ancient evil that threatened Aetheria, its monstrous form a twisted blend of dragons, giants, and other horrors beyond imagining. As Elara channeled her newfound power, she found herself face-to-face with the embodiment of the darkness. With the support of her allies and her heart filled with hope, Elara summoned every ounce of her strength and banished the evil from Aetheria forever. In the aftermath, peace was restored to the realm, and the mythical creatures of Aetheria celebrated their newfound unity. Elara, once a simple fairy with dreams of exploration, had become the heroine who brought harmony back to her world. Her journey of self-discovery and sacrifice had transformed her into a beacon of hope for all of Aetheria. As Elara fluttered through the lush Aetherian forest, she stumbled upon an ancient tome hidden beneath the roots of a massive oak tree. Curiosity piqued, she carefully opened the brittle pages and began reading. The prophecy spoke of a fairy with hidden powers, destined to save Aetheria from the dragons and an ancient evil that threatened to consume the land. Elara's eyes widened as she realized the words were not only a story but a foretelling of her own life. She felt an inexplicable connection to the text, as if it was speaking directly to her heart. That very moment, Zalaphar, a wise old dragon, appeared before her. His eyes sparkled with knowledge and wisdom, and he offered his guidance. "Elara, you must understand that this journey will not be easy," Zalaphar warned. "You will need to forge friendships with creatures both magical and mythical, learn the power of sacrifice, and embrace your destiny." Together, Elara and Zalaphar set out to gather allies from all corners of Aetheria. They encountered a band of brave giants who pledged their strength and loyalty, a flock of sprightly pixies who offered their cunning and agility, and a wise owl whose insight proved invaluable. As the group journeyed together, they formed unbreakable bonds, learning to trust and rely on one another in the face of adversity. Elara's newfound friendships not only strengthened her resolve but also helped her unlock her hidden powers. The more she embraced her destiny, the stronger she became. As the group faced their greatest challenges against the dragons and the ancient evil, it was Elara's unwavering determination and newfound abilities that ultimately led to a hopeful conclusion. Peace was restored in Aetheria, and Elara stood tall as a heroine, forever changed by her journey and the friendships she had forged along the way. In the land of Aetheria, where mythical creatures roamed free, there lived a young fairy named Elara. She was different from her peers, having never discovered her true powers like others of her kind. As she ventured through the enchanted forest one day, she stumbled upon an ancient tome hidden within the roots of a massive tree. The tome revealed a prophecy that spoke of a powerful fairy whose existence would tip the balance between good and evil in Aetheria. Elara's heart raced as she realized she was the fairy mentioned in the prophecy. She knew she had to embrace her destiny and help save Aetheria from the dragons and an ancient evil that threatened its very existence. As she continued her journey, Elara met Zalaphar, a wise dragon who shared his knowledge of the prophecy and offered guidance. Together, they set out on a quest to gather allies from all corners of Aetheria, forging friendships with giants, fairies, and other mythical creatures. As they ventured forth, Elara discovered her growing powers and learned that sacrifices must be made for the greater good. With each passing day, she became more confident in her abilities and embraced her role as a heroine. As the group faced numerous challenges, their bonds grew stronger, and they realized that they were not alone in their fight against the darkness. In the climactic battle against the ancient evil and its monstrous minions, Elara's powers reached their zenith. With the support of her friends and allies, she confronted the enemy and vanquished it, restoring peace to Aetheria. The land celebrated its newfound hope, and Elara stood proud as a beacon of light in the darkest hour. Elara, a young fairy with a thirst for knowledge, stumbled upon an ancient tome hidden deep within the forest of Aetheria. The pages revealed a prophecy that spoke of a chosen one who would awaken and restore peace to their world, plagued by dragons and giants. Excited by this discovery, Elara set out on a quest to uncover her destiny. Her journey led her to the outskirts of the Dragon's Lair, where she met Zalaphar, a wise old dragon with knowledge of the ancient prophecy. Surprisingly, they formed an unlikely alliance, as Zalaphar believed in Elara's potential to become the chosen one. Together, they journeyed across Aetheria, gathering allies from all corners of the land: humans, giants, fairies, and even a few dragons who had turned against their kind. As their fellowship grew stronger, so did Elara's powers. She learned to control her abilities and harness them for good. The group encountered various challenges on their way, making them forge friendships and understand the importance of sacrifice. Finally, they reached the heart of the ancient evil, where a climactic battle ensued. Elara's powers reached their zenith, and with the help of her allies, they defeated the monstrous minions and the ancient evil itself. In that moment, peace was restored to Aetheria, and Elara's journey had come full circle. She had discovered herself as a heroine, and the world she once knew would never be the same again. Elara, a young fairy with a thirst for knowledge, discovered an old tome in the depths of Aetheria's vast library. The ancient text spoke of prophecies and mythical creatures, but it was one particular passage that caught her eye. It told of a powerful fairy, hidden among them, who would awaken with unparalleled strength and lead Aetheria to victory against an ancient evil. Little did Elara know that she was the fairy spoken of in the prophecy. As the days passed, Elara continued her studies, curious about the prophecy's implications. One fateful day, while exploring the library's hidden chambers, she encountered a wise and enigmatic dragon named Zalaphar. Their conversation revealed that Zalaphar was aware of the prophecy as well and sought to fulfill it by uniting Aetheria's divided mythical creatures against their common foe. With newfound determination, Elara and Zalaphar set out to gather allies from across the land, forging friendships with giants, fairies, and dragons alike. Throughout their journey, Elara honed her skills, uncovering hidden powers within herself as her confidence grew. As the diverse group of heroes gathered, they formed a strong bond, learning to trust one another and work together. This unity was essential, for the ancient evil had grown stronger with each passing day, its monstrous minions wreaking havoc throughout Aetheria. Finally, the united forces faced their adversaries in an epic battle that would determine the fate of their world. Amidst the chaos and destruction, Elara's powers reached their zenith, allowing her to unleash a devastating blast of energy upon the ancient evil. The force of her attack shattered its dark magic, banishing the evil forever and restoring peace to Aetheria. In the end, Elara had not only discovered her hidden powers but also learned the importance of unity and sacrifice for the greater good. Her journey had transformed her from an inquisitive fairy into a heroine who would be remembered throughout the ages in the Chronicles of Aetheria. In the heart of Aetheria, where mythical creatures roamed and ancient legends whispered through the ages, Elara, a young fairy, stumbled upon a hidden prophecy. The parchment spoke of a chosen one who would unlock forgotten powers and save their world from an impending doom. As Elara's heart raced with newfound purpose, she set forth on a journey to uncover her true potential and fulfill the destiny laid before her. Upon reaching a desolate valley, Elara encountered Zalaphar, a wise and ancient dragon who had witnessed the rise and fall of many civilizations. Though he appeared weary, his eyes gleamed with hope as he recognized the prophecy in Elara's hands. "You are the chosen one?" he asked, his voice a gentle rumble that echoed through the mountains. "Yes," Elara replied, her voice trembling with anticipation and fear. "I must save Aetheria from the dragons and the ancient evil that threatens us." Zalaphar nodded, understanding the gravity of her words. "To succeed, you will need allies. The creatures of Aetheria have grown weary, but their spirits can still be stirred. We must find them and gather them to our cause." Together, Elara and Zalaphar embarked on a perilous journey, seeking out the scattered remnants of Aetheria's once-great communities. As they gathered allies, an air of unity and hope began to spread throughout the land. The time had come for them to face the dragons and the ancient evil in a climactic battle that would determine the fate of their world. The skies darkened as the armies of darkness approached, but Elara's heart remained steadfast. As the final confrontation began, she felt her hidden powers awakening within her. The air crackled with energy, and she knew it was time. Raising her hands, a brilliant light erupted from her fingertips, casting away the shadows that had plagued Aetheria for far too long. With her newfound power, Elara banished the ancient evil and vanquished the dragons, restoring peace to Aetheria. In the end, it was the power of hope that prevailed, and a new era dawned in the land of mythical creatures. In the enchanting land of Aetheria, where mythical creatures roamed and the air was filled with magic, a prophecy foretold the arrival of a young fairy named Elara. She possessed hidden powers that would one day save her world from an ancient evil and the dragons that served it. As Elara explored the mystical woods, she stumbled upon a wise old dragon named Zalaphar, who had been watching her for quite some time. "Elara," he said with a warm tone, "I have been observing you, and I believe you are the one spoken of in the prophecy." Elara, both fascinated and terrified by the dragon's words, replied, "A prophecy? About me?" Zalaphar nodded solemnly. "You must gather allies from each realm of Aetheria to face the evil that threatens us all. Together, you will unite the creatures of this world and restore peace." With newfound courage, Elara embarked on her quest, meeting creatures both mythical and extraordinary. She formed bonds with a gentle griffin named Gryphon, an elusive shapeshifter called Lumina, and a wise water nymph named Coraline. As they journeyed together, the group grew stronger and more determined to confront the ancient evil that loomed over Aetheria. Finally, they stood before the lair of the evil dragon, ready for the climactic battle that would decide the fate of their world. The dragons unleashed their fury upon them, but Elara's powers began to awaken with a brilliance none had ever seen. As her magical abilities peaked, she transformed into a radiant being of light and hope, casting away the darkness. In that moment, the ancient evil was vanquished, and peace was restored to Aetheria. The mythical creatures celebrated their victory, and Elara, now hailed as a hero, continued her journey with her friends, spreading hope and magic throughout the land. In the mystical land of Aetheria, where mythical creatures roamed freely, there was a prophecy that foretold the arrival of a chosen one who would bring balance and hope. The once peaceful realm had been plagued by dragons and an ancient evil for centuries, causing the inhabitants to lose faith in their own abilities. In this time of darkness, a young fairy named Elara discovered her true powers while seeking a hidden oasis. As she touched the sacred waters, a vision revealed her destiny as the chosen one mentioned in the prophecy. Overwhelmed with fear and determination, Elara embarked on her journey to fulfill her purpose and save Aetheria from impending doom. Elara's first encounter led her to Zalaphar, an ancient and wise dragon who had been watching over the land for centuries. Initially hesitant, Zalaphar agreed to help Elara in her quest after witnessing her unwavering resolve. Together, they gathered a diverse group of allies, including a cunning fox spirit named Lila, a gentle giant named Thulgor, and a fierce warrior named Tylaria. As the united forces of Aetheria approached the lair of the ancient evil, a climactic battle ensued. The power within Elara surged as she faced the dragons and the darkness head-on. With each newfound ability, her allies fought fiercely by her side. In that moment of truth, the strength of their unity and hope for a brighter future culminated in a brilliant display of power, vanquishing the evil and restoring peace to Aetheria once more. In the aftermath, Elara's transformation was complete, and she realized the true extent of her newfound abilities. The people of Aetheria celebrated their victory, for they now knew that with hope and unity, even the darkest times could be overcome. Elara had always been a normal fairy, never quite understanding why she didn't possess the same abilities as her siblings. But one day, while exploring the ancient ruins of Aetheria, she stumbled upon a hidden chamber containing an old prophecy. The prophecy spoke of a young fairy who would awaken her hidden powers to save their world from the impending doom brought on by dragons and an ancient evil. As Elara pondered the prophecy, she heard a gentle voice behind her. "Elara, is it? I am Zalaphar, a wise dragon, and I have been waiting for you." Intrigued, Elara turned to face the creature. "You must gather your allies, forged from every corner of Aetheria, and prepare for the battle against the dark forces that threaten our world." Elara was hesitant but knew she had no choice. With Zalaphar's guidance, they set out to find their allies: a swift fox, a brave knight, a cunning owl, and many others. As they journeyed together, the group grew stronger, bonding over shared stories of sacrifice and hope. Finally, the day of the climactic battle arrived. The skies darkened, and the ancient evil stirred, its malevolent presence looming over Aetheria. Elara's heart raced as she felt her powers awakening within her. She looked to Zalaphar for guidance, and with a nod, they led their allies into the fray. In that moment of desperation, Elara's powers reached their peak, unleashing a brilliant light that shattered the darkness and vanquished the ancient evil. Peace was restored to Aetheria, and the mythical creatures celebrated their newfound unity and hope for the future. Elara had always been an ordinary fairy in the magical land of Aetheria, but everything changed when she stumbled upon an ancient prophecy that revealed her true destiny. The prophecy foretold that a young fairy would awaken powerful abilities and save Aetheria from a terrible dragon invasion led by an ancient evil. As Elara pondered the meaning of the prophecy, she was approached by Zalaphar, a wise old dragon with knowledge beyond his years. "You are the one spoken of in the prophecy, Elara," he said gently. "I can teach you to harness your newfound powers and help you save our world." Elara hesitated but knew she had no choice. "We must gather allies from all corners of Aetheria to stand against the evil dragons," Zalaphar continued. "Together, we will face them in a climactic battle that will determine the fate of our realm." With newfound determination, Elara set out to find her allies. She recruited courageous knights, cunning elves, and even a few daring humans, forming an unstoppable force against the dark forces threatening their world. As they journeyed together, Elara's powers grew stronger, and she learned to control them with grace. Finally, the day of the battle arrived. The combined forces of Aetheria faced the evil dragons and their ancient master in a fierce confrontation. In the heat of the moment, Elara's powers reached their peak, casting away the darkness that had shrouded Aetheria for so long. Peace was restored, and the heroes rejoiced as they had saved their world from the jaws of destruction. In the end, Elara had not only discovered her hidden potential but also forged lifelong bonds with her allies. Together, they protected Aetheria and ensured that hope would always triumph over despair. The sun dipped below the horizon, casting an ethereal glow upon Aetheria's lush landscape. Elara, a young fairy with vibrant emerald wings, gazed at the setting sun, her curiosity piqued by a strange sensation. She had always been fascinated by ancient prophecies, and tonight was no exception. As she flew to the ancient library, her thoughts raced with anticipation. ``` Upon entering the dusty library, Elara searched for the scrolls containing the long-forgotten tales of Aetheria's mythical creatures. She found the tattered parchment and unfurled it, revealing a prophecy that spoke of a fairy with hidden powers destined to save Aetheria from an ancient evil. Elara: "I never believed in prophecies, but this... This could be real." ``` The prophecy consumed her thoughts as she sought the wisdom of Zalaphar, a legendary wise dragon rumored to reside in the heart of the Enchanted Forest. Her journey led her through treacherous terrain and dark forests until she finally found the ancient tree that housed Zalaphar's dwelling. ``` Elara: "Zalaphar, I have come seeking your guidance. The prophecy speaks of me, a fairy with powers beyond my imagination. How can this be true?" Zalaphar: "Prophecies are not always easy to understand, young one. But you must trust in your heart and embrace your destiny. Together, we will assemble an alliance that can defeat the darkness." ``` Gathering allies from all corners of Aetheria, Elara formed a diverse and skilled team determined to face the imminent threat. As they journeyed together, bonds forged through shared adversity, and the power of unity grew stronger. The climactic battle commenced, with dragons soaring through the sky, creatures of all kinds fighting side by side, and Elara's powers reaching their peak. The ancient evil, once thought to be unstoppable, was vanquished as hope shone brightly across Aetheria. ``` Elara: "We did it! Together, we have saved our world from darkness." Zalaphar: "Your courage and belief in the prophecy have changed the course of history. You are a beacon of hope for all of Aetheria." ``` Elara stood in the heart of Aetheria's forest, her delicate wings shimmering in the sunlight. The whispers of ancient myths and legends danced around her, but she had never believed them to be more than stories until now. She felt an inexplicable power stirring within her, a force she could not ignore. As she gazed at the horizon, she noticed a majestic dragon soaring through the sky, its scales shimmering like jewels under the sun's rays. Elara approached the dragon, her heart pounding with anticipation. "Who are you?" she asked cautiously, taking a step closer. The dragon landed gracefully and turned to face her. "I am Zalaphar, the last of the wise dragons," he replied, his voice echoing through the forest. "I have been waiting for you, Elara. You are the one spoken of in the prophecy, destined to save Aetheria from the darkness that threatens to consume it." In that moment, Elara knew Zalaphar spoke the truth. The weight of her newfound purpose pressed heavily upon her, and she realized she was not alone in her fight. She turned to the creatures around her – fairies, elves, and even some animals – who had all gathered to aid her in her quest. "We must gather our forces and stand together against the darkness," Zalaphar declared, his voice resolute. "The time for hope is now!" The allies nodded in agreement, their determination palpable. They embarked on a perilous journey through treacherous lands, overcoming obstacles and confronting foes along the way. Finally, they reached the lair of the ancient evil, its sinister presence casting a shadow over the land. Elara stood at the forefront of the battle, her eyes filled with determination. As the climactic fight ensued, she felt a surge of power course through her veins, her newfound abilities awakening in full force. The energy emanating from her was like nothing Aetheria had ever witnessed before, and it shattered the darkness, restoring peace to the realm. Elara's transformation had been complete, and she knew that the sacrifices of her friends and allies had not been in vain. Together, they had brought hope and triumph back to Aetheria, a testament to the power of unity and the indomitable spirit of those who believed in the impossible. In the enchanting realm of Aetheria, mythical creatures thrived in harmony. Elara, a young fairy, was entrusted with the responsibility of uncovering her hidden powers and saving her world from the imminent threat of dragons and an ancient evil. The whispers of prophecy echoed through the land, foretelling the arrival of a hero who would bring balance to Aetheria once more. One day, while exploring the depths of the mystical forest, Elara stumbled upon a hidden cave. Inside, she discovered a cryptic prophecy etched into the ancient walls: "When darkness threatens to consume the land, a beacon of light shall arise, and through sacrifice and transformation, hope will prevail." As she read the words, a sudden gust of wind blew through the cavern, revealing a glowing orb. It pulsed with energy and seemed to call out to Elara, urging her to take it. Elara carried the mysterious orb back to her fairy village, where she shared her discovery with her fellow fairies. Together, they decided that the only way to uncover the true meaning of the prophecy was to seek guidance from Zalaphar, a wise and ancient dragon, rumored to possess vast knowledge of Aetheria's history. Elara and her friends embarked on a perilous journey to find the legendary Zalaphar, overcoming numerous obstacles along the way. Along their path, they encountered other mythical creatures who joined their cause, forming an unlikely alliance. As word spread of their quest, more creatures flocked to assist them, united by a shared belief in Elara's destiny. Finally, the group reached Zalaphar's lair, where the wise dragon confirmed the prophecy. Elara was indeed the beacon of light, and her powers would be vital in their upcoming battle against the ancient evil. With newfound confidence, she and her allies prepared for the climactic showdown that would determine the fate of Aetheria. In the heat of the battle, Elara's latent powers manifested, growing stronger with each passing moment. As she faced her fears and embraced her destiny, her abilities reached their peak, vanquishing the ancient evil and banishing the dragons from Aetheria forever. The realm was once again filled with hope, and a sense of unity and harmony reigned supreme among its inhabitants. The Chronicles of Aetheria: The Awakening now stood as a testament to the power of sacrifice, transformation, and hope. Elara's journey had come full circle, and her legend would echo through the ages, inspiring generations to come. The sun dipped below the horizon, casting Aetheria in a golden glow. Elara, a young fairy, perched atop a hill, gazed at the setting sun, her eyes reflecting the twilight's beauty. As she gazed into the distance, a sudden gust of wind carried an ancient prophecy to her ears. "When dragons rule the skies and darkness shrouds Aetheria, a fairy shall rise with powers unseen. Guided by a wise dragon and united by allies, they will vanquish the ancient evil that plagues our land." Elara's heart raced as she realized the prophecy spoke of her. With newfound determination, Elara ventured towards the heart of Aetheria, seeking the help of the elusive wise dragon, Zalaphar. Upon finding him, their conversation ensued: Elara: "I am the fairy spoken of in the prophecy. I must gather allies to defeat the evil that threatens our land." Zalaphar: "You are brave to seek this challenge, young one. But know that together we shall face the darkness and restore hope to Aetheria." Together they set forth, rallying allies from every corner of Aetheria. The dragons, once feared adversaries, joined their cause, as did the forest creatures and the sea dwellers. As the day of the final battle approached, Elara's powers began to manifest in full force. In the climactic battle against the ancient evil, Elara's newfound abilities shone brightly. Her powers illuminated the darkness, empowering her allies as they fought together against the dragon legions. As the dust settled, Aetheria stood united and free from the clutches of the ancient evil. Hope had returned to their land, all thanks to Elara's sacrifice, transformation, and unwavering spirit. In the heart of Aetheria, a land of mythical creatures and ancient magic, there existed a prophecy that spoke of a chosen one who would bring balance to the world. This chosen one was said to possess powers beyond comprehension and would emerge from the most unexpected of places. Elara, a young fairy with a heart full of curiosity and a mind filled with dreams, had always been fascinated by the prophecy. She knew deep down that she was destined for greatness, but she could never have imagined just how powerful her abilities truly were. One day, while exploring the depths of the Enchanted Forest, Elara stumbled upon an ancient tome hidden within a secret chamber. As she flipped through the dusty pages, a prophecy unfolded before her eyes: "When the sun sets over Aetheria, and the shadows grow long, the chosen one shall appear. With powers untapped, they will unite the realm's creatures against an ancient evil that seeks to plunge all into darkness." Feeling a mix of fear and determination, Elara set out in search of the wise dragon Zalaphar, who was said to hold the key to unlocking her hidden powers. Upon finding him high atop the Clouded Peaks, Elara pleaded for his guidance: Elara: "Zalaphar, I've discovered the prophecy, and I believe it speaks of me! But how can I be the chosen one? How can I save Aetheria from the darkness?" Zalaphar: "Fear not, young one. You have the strength within you to transform this world. Gather your allies and stand strong against the evil that threatens us all." Together, Elara and Zalaphar gathered a motley crew of dragons, forest creatures, and sea dwellers from every corner of Aetheria. They trained tirelessly, preparing for the final battle that would determine the fate of their realm. As the day of reckoning arrived, the sun set over Aetheria, casting long shadows across the land. The ancient evil emerged from the depths, its dark tendrils reaching out to consume everything in its path. Elara's powers manifested in full force, illuminating the darkness and empowering her allies. In a climactic showdown, Elara harnessed her newfound abilities to vanquish the evil forces that threatened Aetheria. The land was once again bathed in the warm glow of the sun, and hope filled the hearts of all who lived there. The mythical creatures of Aetheria rejoiced, knowing that they had been saved by the very person the prophecy foretold. And so, Elara's legend began, a symbol of sacrifice, transformation, and the unyielding power of hope. As the sun dipped below the horizon, casting a warm glow over Aetheria, Elara stood on the edge of the forest, her heart pounding in anticipation. The ancient prophecy echoed in her mind, urging her to seek help from Zalaphar, the wise dragon. Elara: "Zalaphar, I have discovered my hidden powers. They are the key to saving Aetheria from the dragons and the ancient evil threatening our world." Zalaphar: "Your strength is immense, young one. But we must gather allies from every corner of Aetheria to stand against the darkness. Together, we will restore peace to our land." As they journeyed through the realm, Elara and Zalaphar united dragons, forest creatures, and sea dwellers in their quest. The diverse group forged friendships and bonds that would last a lifetime. Elara: "We are stronger together. Let us stand united against this evil." Together, they confronted the ancient evil in a climactic battle. Elara's powers manifested, illuminating the darkness and empowering her allies. The final blow struck by the combined forces of Aetheria sent the evil fleeing, its power broken. Elara: "Our hope has returned! We have saved our world, but we must continue to protect it." With the sun setting over Aetheria once more, Elara and her allies stood victorious. The prophecy fulfilled, they vowed to guard their realm against any future threats, their hearts filled with hope for a brighter future. Elara gazed at the horizon, her eyes filled with determination. The sun was setting over Aetheria, casting a warm glow on the land. She couldn't shake the feeling that something momentous was about to happen. Her ears perked up as she heard an ancient prophecy echo through the wind, "When darkness descends and hope fades, a young fairy shall arise with powers untold, to restore balance in Aetheria." With newfound courage, Elara sought out Zalaphar, a wise dragon who knew of the prophecy. Together, they set out to gather allies from every corner of Aetheria, including dragons, forest creatures, and sea dwellers. As their group grew, so did the strength of their bond. They knew that they had to stand united against the ancient evil threatening to consume Aetheria. The day of the climactic battle arrived. The sky darkened as the ancient evil prepared for the confrontation. Elara felt a surge of energy within her, and as she closed her eyes, her powers began to manifest. With a brilliant flash of light, her abilities were unveiled: the power to illuminate the darkness, empower her allies, and defeat the evil forces. As she harnessed this newfound strength, the ancient evil's hold on Aetheria began to crumble. With hope restored, the creatures of Aetheria celebrated their victory. Elara had saved her world from the clutches of darkness, proving herself as the hero prophesied. Her journey had only just begun, and she knew that together with Zalaphar and her newfound allies, they would face any challenge that came their way, ensuring peace and hope would always prevail in Aetheria. The sun had barely risen, casting its golden hue over Aetheria's lush landscape when Elara awoke. As she stretched her wings, a faint glow emanated from her fingertips. The young fairy had always been aware of her powers, but they had never shined so brightly before. She decided to venture outside and explore the world beyond her cozy treehouse. "Do you sense it too?" Elara asked Zalaphar, a wise dragon who resided in the neighboring cliffs. The ancient creature nodded, his scales glistening in the morning light. "The awakening of your powers is a sign," he rasped. "Aetheria needs us now more than ever." Elara listened intently as Zalaphar explained the imminent danger. An ancient evil had stirred from its slumber, threatening to engulf Aetheria in darkness. The dragon urged her to seek allies, for together they could stand against the looming threat. Elara's heart raced with determination as she soared towards the horizon, ready to rally her fellow creatures of Aetheria. As they gathered, the allies grew in number and strength. Forest creatures, sea dwellers, and even some dragons joined their ranks. Together, they prepared for a monumental battle against the ancient evil that had cast its sinister shadow over their once-peaceful realm. With Zalaphar's guidance and newfound confidence, Elara's powers flourished. Her glow illuminated the darkest corners of the battlefield, inspiring hope in her fellow fighters. As the enemy closed in, she channeled her strength into a beam of radiant energy, defeating the evil forces and bringing forth a new era of harmony for Aetheria. Elara's eyes widened as she stared at her reflection in the glassy surface of the pond. For years, she had heard whispers of an ancient prophecy, spoken only in hushed tones amongst the fairies of Aetheria. It spoke of a young fairy with hidden powers that would rise to save their world from the dragons and the ancient evil that threatened to consume it. She never believed the stories, for she was just Elara, an ordinary fairy. Yet, as her reflection shimmered with newfound brilliance, she couldn't help but wonder if she was destined for something greater. Zalaphar, a wise old dragon, sensed the change in Aetheria's balance. He had watched from the skies as the once-harmonious world descended into chaos. When he found Elara, her powers still dormant, he knew it was his duty to guide and protect her. "Elara, you must believe in yourself," Zalaphar whispered, his voice echoing through the ancient forest. "The balance of our world depends on it." As the sun set and darkness enveloped Aetheria, Elara's powers finally manifested. The once-timid fairy shone like a beacon in the night, her light illuminating the fear that had gripped their world. With Zalaphar by her side, they gathered allies from every corner of Aetheria: dragons with fiery hearts, forest creatures with ancient wisdom, and sea dwellers who echoed the songs of the ocean depths. Their combined powers formed a beacon of hope, but the ancient evil still loomed in the shadows. In the final battle against the darkness, Elara's light blazed like a supernova, empowering her allies and vanquishing the evil that had plagued their world for centuries. The dawn of a new era had arrived, and with it, the promise of hope and unity that would forever echo through the chronicles of Aetheria. As Elara stood in the heart of Aetheria's forest, she could feel the darkness seeping into the world. She knew that she had to do something to save her home. Just then, Zalaphar, the wise dragon, appeared before her. "I am Zalaphar," he said, his voice echoing through the trees, "and I have been watching you, Elara. You are the one with the hidden powers we've been waiting for." "What do you mean?" Elara asked, her heart pounding. "You must learn to control your newfound abilities," Zalaphar explained, "and gather allies from every corner of Aetheria. Together, we will stand against the ancient evil that threatens to consume our world." Elara hesitated, uncertain if she could truly make a difference. But seeing the determination in Zalaphar's eyes, she knew she had no choice but to try. "Alright," she said firmly, "I will do whatever it takes to save Aetheria." With that, Elara and Zalaphar set out on their quest, seeking help from dragons, forest creatures, and sea dwellers alike. As they journeyed together, the seeds of hope began to grow in the hearts of all who heard their message. United by a common cause, they prepared for the final battle against the ancient evil that threatened to plunge Aetheria into eternal darkness. Elara stood at the heart of Aetheria's ancient forest, her delicate wings shimmering in the fading sunlight. The darkness that had been creeping into her world seemed to grow stronger with each passing day, casting a pall over the once vibrant landscape. As she closed her eyes and listened to the whispers of the wind, a sudden gust carried an ancient prophecy to her ears. "When the fairy's heart is filled with despair, a hero shall rise to lead us back into the light." Opening her eyes, Elara searched the horizon, sensing that the time was near. Her quest for hope led her to the wise and enigmatic dragon, Zalaphar. He revealed that she possessed hidden powers, powers that could save their world from the encroaching darkness and the dragons who had fallen under its control. With newfound determination, Elara vowed to protect Aetheria at all costs. Together, Elara and Zalaphar ventured across the realm, gathering allies from every corner of Aetheria. Forest creatures, sea dwellers, and even some dragons joined their cause, united by the shared belief that hope could still be salvaged. As they traveled, their message spread, igniting sparks of hope in the hearts of those who had lost faith. With each ally that joined them, Elara's resolve grew stronger. She knew that the final battle against the ancient evil would require every ounce of her newfound power. On the eve of the confrontation, Elara stood before her army, her eyes shining with a fire that had once been lost. "We may be small," she said, her voice carrying throughout the gathered forces, "but together, we are mighty. Let us stand as one and bring light back to Aetheria!" As Elara stood in the heart of Aetheria's forest, she could feel the darkness seeping into the world. It was as if her very being was attuned to the balance of good and evil. The air around her grew colder, and a chill ran down her spine. It wasn't long before Zalaphar, the wise dragon, appeared. His scales shimmered in the fading sunlight, and his eyes held a depth of knowledge that was both comforting and unsettling. "Elara," Zalaphar began, his voice echoing through the trees, "I've sensed it too. The darkness is growing stronger, and we must do something about it." Elara looked at him in disbelief. She had always known there were mythical creatures, but she never thought she would play a part in their world. "But how can I help?" she asked, her voice barely audible. "I'm just a fairy." Zalaphar chuckled, his laughter echoing through the forest. "Your powers are hidden, Elara, but they are there. We need you to awaken them and lead us against the ancient evil." Together, they journeyed across Aetheria, gathering allies from every corner of the realm. Dragons with their fiery breaths, forest creatures with their cunning, and sea dwellers with their wisdom joined their cause. The seeds of hope began to grow in the hearts of all who heard their message. As the final battle against the ancient evil drew near, Elara's powers manifested in full force. Her once subtle glow grew into a radiant light that illuminated the darkness, empowering her allies and giving them strength. The climactic battle raged on, with dragons breathing fire and forest creatures wielding their natural magic. But it was Elara's newfound powers that ultimately defeated the dark forces, restoring peace and hope to Aetheria. And so, the Chronicles of Aetheria continued with Elara, Zalaphar, and their allies standing united against any threat that might challenge the balance between good and evil once more. Elara's eyes widened as she stared at the ancient text in front of her. It spoke of a prophecy, a chosen one who would awaken their powers to save Aetheria from the darkness that threatened to consume the world. The words seemed to echo in her mind, and she knew deep within her heart that she was the one spoken of in the prophecy. With determination burning in her eyes, Elara set off on her journey to find Zalaphar, a wise dragon rumored to possess the knowledge needed to unlock her hidden powers. Along the way, she encountered creatures both friend and foe, each teaching her valuable lessons about sacrifice, transformation, and hope. As she continued on her quest, Elara realized that the key to her success lay not just in her newfound abilities, but also in the power of unity and collaboration. One day, while resting near a crystal-clear lake, Elara overheard a conversation between two dragons discussing Zalaphar's whereabouts. Intrigued, she approached them cautiously, only to find herself face-to-face with the very dragon she sought. Zalaphar, sensing her pure heart and determination, agreed to guide Elara in mastering her powers and assembling a team of allies from every corner of Aetheria. As they embarked on their perilous journey together, Elara learned to trust her instincts and rely on the strengths of those around her. Their bonds grew stronger with each challenge they faced, and the hope that once seemed so distant began to shine through the dark clouds that had enshrouded Aetheria. Finally, the day arrived when Elara's powers manifested in full force, illuminating the darkness and empowering her allies as they confronted the ancient evil. With each of them contributing their unique abilities, they fought together against the dark forces, ultimately defeating the evil that had plagued Aetheria for so long. And in that moment, hope was restored, a new era dawned, and the once-divided lands were united under the banner of unity and friendship. In the beginning, there was darkness. An ancient evil had cast its shadow over Aetheria, a land of mythical creatures where peace and harmony once reigned. Elara, a young fairy with radiant wings, yearned for adventure beyond her humble abode in the Whispering Woods. Her curiosity led her to the edge of the forest, where she stumbled upon an old, forgotten cave. Within the cave, she discovered an ancient artifact that held the power to awaken a dormant force within her. As Elara's newfound powers began to manifest, a dragon named Zalaphar appeared before her. Wise and powerful, Zalaphar had been watching over Aetheria for centuries, waiting for the one who would challenge the ancient evil. Together, they formed an alliance and sought allies from every corner of Aetheria, uniting dragons, forest creatures, and sea dwellers in their quest to restore hope to their world. "The time has come, Elara," Zalaphar whispered as they stood before the ancient evil's lair. "You must use your powers to illuminate the darkness and empower our allies." Elara took a deep breath and focused her energy. Her wings shimmered like stars in the night sky, and her voice resonated with a newfound strength. "Let our light guide us through this darkness, and let our unity be our shield!" As Elara's words echoed through the cavern, the creatures of Aetheria felt their spirits lift. They stood together, united in their determination to save their world from the ancient evil. As they advanced toward their enemy, Elara's powers grew stronger, casting away the darkness and empowering her allies with a newfound hope. In the climactic battle that followed, Elara's radiance defeated the dark forces, and peace was restored to Aetheria. The ancient evil was vanquished, and the creatures of Aetheria rejoiced in their newfound freedom. The Chronicles of Aetheria had begun, and with it, a new era of hope and unity for all who dwelled within its borders. The sun had just begun to set, casting a warm golden hue over the enchanting land of Aetheria. Elara, a young fairy with delicate wings and eyes full of wonder, was exploring the forest when she stumbled upon a hidden grove. In that moment, she felt an inexplicable connection to the earth beneath her feet. As she stood there, entranced by the beauty around her, a sudden gust of wind whispered into her ear. "Aetheria is in grave danger," it warned. Startled, Elara looked up to see a majestic dragon soaring above her, his scales shimmering in the fading light. It was Zalaphar, a wise and ancient creature who had been watching over Aetheria for centuries. He had sensed the dark energies awakening and knew that only someone like Elara, with her hidden powers, could save their world from the impending doom. "What must I do?" Elara asked, her voice trembling. Zalaphar's eyes glowed as he replied, "You must gather allies from every corner of Aetheria – dragons, forest creatures, and sea dwellers – and unite them against the ancient evil that threatens our world." Together, Elara and Zalaphar embarked on a perilous journey, seeking out the strongest and bravest beings to join their cause. Along the way, they encountered many challenges, from treacherous mountains to deadly swamps, but with each passing day, their ranks grew stronger. Finally, as the day of the climactic battle approached, Elara stood in the heart of Aetheria, surrounded by her newfound allies. As the ancient evil emerged from the shadows, the air crackled with anticipation and fear. With a deep breath, Elara focused her hidden powers, and in that instant, they manifested in brilliant, radiant energy. The light illuminated the darkness, empowering her allies and casting away the evil's influence. In that moment of hope, Aetheria was saved, and a new age of unity dawned over their once-torn world. Elara had transformed from a simple fairy to a beacon of hope, proving that even the smallest of creatures could change the fate of an entire realm. Elara stared at the glowing mark on her palm, her heart racing with both fear and excitement. She knew this was no ordinary mark, but the manifestation of a hidden power within her. The ancient prophecy spoke of a young fairy who would rise to save Aetheria from the dragons and the ancient evil that threatened to plunge the world into darkness. Elara had always known she was different, but she never imagined she was the one foretold in the prophecy. As she stood in the heart of the forest, a sudden gust of wind whispered through the trees, carrying with it a voice that seemed to come from everywhere and nowhere. "Elara, the time has come. You must embrace your destiny and use your powers for good," the ethereal voice echoed. With newfound resolve, Elara decided to find Zalaphar, the wise dragon who could guide her on her journey. "I must warn you, Elara, the path you choose will be fraught with danger and sacrifice," Zalaphar cautioned as he joined her in the quest. "But together, we can change the fate of Aetheria." With a nod, Elara agreed to face whatever challenges lay ahead. Together, they ventured across the land, gathering allies from every corner of Aetheria – fierce dragons with their breathtaking wing power, forest creatures who could blend into their surroundings like shadows, and sea dwellers who wielded the mighty ocean as their ally. As their ranks grew, so did Elara's powers, illuminating even the darkest corners of her heart and awakening her true potential. With their combined strength, they faced the ancient evil in a climactic battle that shook the foundations of Aetheria. As darkness seemed to consume everything, Elara's powers manifested in full force, banishing the shadows and empowering her allies. The final blow struck with a brilliant flash, defeating the dark forces and restoring hope to the hearts of all who called Aetheria home.

[griimrose]

pandora: volta, she’s kicking!

volta: oh is she now?

[ojuulius]

Diane and Wolfgang talked about everything in between, from baby names to their favorite memes. The night seemed to pass in a blur, as neither wanted it to end so soon. By the end of the night they had decided on possible baby names, and couldn’t wait for another night like it. 

[xo-cuteplosion-xo]

Midnight ball | Chuuya x reader |

Midnight Ball | Chuuya x reader | (female reader)

I feel like I'm doing Chuuya dirty with this one-

Warnings- references to some NSFW themes, inferred attempted rape, mentions of drug use.

(really hesitant on actually posting this... nothing happens, but I don't wanna make people too uncomfortable)

Undercover missions were normal in the port mafia. Every once in a while they would come up. You went on a lot of these missions. Even the ones you didn’t care for.

The air was brisk, not too cold, but not a comfortable warmth either. It wasn’t every day you were called in on what should have been your day off. The clouds covered the noon sun, keeping its warmth tucked away. It felt as if it may rain. Maybe snow would fall with how cold the air was. The trees were bare of their leaves and the grass slowly warping to brown. The winter flowers, in full bloom. You shivered tugging the scarf closer as you walked towards the black buildings. Stepping inside was bliss, the air warm and welcoming. You walked slowly towards the elevator stepping inside as it carried you to the level Mori’s office was.

Making your way into the office, your eyes landed on the short male you had become close to. Running a hand through your hair you looked to Mori. “Ya know it’s my day off right? This better be important.” you had guts talking to your boss like this. Elise snickered from the corner of the large room, drawing a picture. Most likely something rather disturbing, as she tended to do.

You hadn’t noticed it before, but Chuuya’s face was contorted in both disgust and anger. Whatever this was, gave him quite displeasure. “He’s having us go undercover. Instead of picking another female… he’s making me wear a fucking dress.” his eyes narrowed in Mori's direction.

“Well, you work well with (y/n). I carefully considered members like Kouyou, but none of them matched what I needed for the minor mission." Mori grinned as Chuuya huffed, crossing his arms.

You tried to imagine him in a dress, but the only thing that you could think of was Kouyou, considering they did both have ginger hair. Shrugging you grabbed Chuuya’s hand, tugging him away. You figured he could brief you on the mission later.

~

As the sun fell under the horizon, and the moon took its place in night's embrace, the two of you settled inside the limo. Chuuya’s arms were crossed as he tugged on the dress. His eyes set in heavy glares. His hair happened to be up in a neat bun. It had taken a lot of fighting and shouting that could have deafened somebody. He was even dolled up with light specks of makeup. The red dress suited his form, his height made it ideal for heels. He already had a feminine figure, so there wasn’t much you needed to do to pass him as a female. He kept squirming around glaring at you. “How the fuck do girls wear these dreaded things.” he hissed, referring to the corset hidden beneath the silk he wore.

Snickering you shrugged leaning back. “They say beauty is pain,” you hummed, leaning back in your seat. This wasn’t ideal for you either. You much preferred to be slightly dressed down from this. Looking as fancy as you did now wasn’t modest, and it sure wasn’t something you liked to wear. You were sucking it up so why couldn’t Chuuya? Could he really be all that uncomfortable? “I could loosen it a bit.” you offered, but Chuuya shook his head staring at himself. He had mastered heals within a handful of moments so you weren’t worried about him tripping. The real challenge would be flirting with the target.

This was a two-person job due to the size of the party and the security around the target. One of you would distract the guards while the other smooth-talked their way into a private area with the target. They would either get the extent of the information this person had managed to take early this morning or silence him. You two hadn’t decided who would be doing what. It was more one of those whoever gets there first situations. The car pulled up to the entrance just as your thoughts finished. Stepping onto the ground you waited for Chuuya. The clunk of his heels on the pavement were steady and even. You went to remind him about his expression, but he rolled his eyes. “I know, no scowling, glaring, or yelling.”

You smiled gripping the edge of the dress, pulling it up so you could walk the stairs without tripping on the (f/c) fabric. Your hair was down but pinned in specific places. “Don’t forget, no swearing. We have to act ladylike Chu.” clicking his tongue, he pinched the fabric of his dress and walked up after you. Entering the large mansion you were escorted to the ballroom. Standing at the railing that overlooked the floor you smiled. Never in your life had you been to one of these. You truly wanted to participate at least a little.

Chuuya noticed the excited glimmer of your eyes and grabbed your hand. Tonight, you both were trying to pass as two female teenage siblings whose parents wanted a night alone. Without a boyfriend, the two of you showed up alone. A naive action when it came to noble parties. These were incredible to get into. You had to have power and money somewhere. He pulled you down the stairs, flashing you a small smile. He wouldn’t admit but this wasn’t that bad. He didn’t mind the corset or the way the dress flowed in the wind. He minded the hair since he always wore it in one specific style. He’d done this once before with Dazai but doing this with you was different. Probably because he wasn’t being forced to be the fiance this time. “We might as well try to enjoy ourselves.” he was surprisingly skilled at keeping his voice higher in pitch. There were a few occasional slips, but he sounded somewhat feminine.

Smirking you pulled him to the food table. “I’d say you're actually enjoying yourself Chu.” his eyes narrowed for a second before playfully hitting your shoulder.

“Sure I am.” he huffed looking over the table of snacks. He grabbed one of the tea-sandwiches and took small bites. Despite how he tried to enjoy himself, he was focused on the mission. There was still no sign of the target. Two older-looking gentlemen came up to the pair of you, holding their hands out.

“Would you two care for a dance?” Chuuya’s mouth twitched to snarl, but he quickly put on a smile despite how much he wanted to string profanities. You glanced at him, inhaling softly, you tapped his shoulder as if to reassure him.

“Depends~ how old do you think we are?” you two had decided on your roles already. To spare Chuuya some dignity you would try to be the more seductive while he played the part of the shyer, more innocent twin. Since he was a boy playing a girl, he matched the innocent child-like stereotype well, considering he didn’t have breasts.

One of the men standing in front of you chuckled lightly. “Teens, though it’s not like we're hitting on you. We simply wish to take you for a dance. You appear lonely.” Chuuya was sick to his stomach already. The last time he’d done this he didn’t have to deal with these situations because Dazai had been there. Yet, as he looked to you, he tilted his head. Your hand grabbed the man's as you looked back to Chuuya.

“Trust me, it’ll be fun. There aren't any men our age, so trust me.” the act flew softly off your lips. There was a hidden motion when you flicked your ankle. It would have passed as your feet were slightly sore to anybody else. Chuuya glanced to the railing, spotting the target. He nodded, faking a smile as the two of you entered the dance floor.

With every pulse of the music, you got closer and closer to the edge. Your eyes tracing for the amount of guards. Though based on what you were observing you had both already found them. It was a widely known fact your target had a thing for younger females. Not young like Elise but teenagers who appear frail. You and Chuuya most definitely looked the part tonight. Dipping you back your eyes met Chuuya's, a smirk crossing both of your expressions. When you returned to the normal position you switched partners.

Things started going slightly south from there. While you two had managed to keep your dancing rather close to one another, you were starting to drift apart now. Chuuya moved closer to the stairwell, while you made your way towards the back doors. Despite how you tried to move back towards him, your dance partner kept you moving in that direction. Eventually, you noted what was going on. Occasionally these types of missions had unexpected twists. This was one of those twists. You hadn’t thought to watch for other predators. Trying to rip your hands from his you glared. “I ought to get back to my sister.” you wove innocence into your voice, but he paid no mind as if he had not heard you. As the music ended, the rough grip that had succeeded in pulling the two of you apart let go. A silent satisfactory smirk placed over his lips. Walking from you he headed back to find another dancing partner.

Walking around you began to search for Chuuya among the crowd. Innocently asking couples and other women if they had seen a short, rather young-looking female ginger dressed in red. They had shaken their heads but one couple pointed towards the stairs. You curtsied respectfully, racing to the stairs only to be stopped by the two men you had previously been dancing with. Batting your eyelashes you explained somebody had seen your sister walk up these stairs not too long ago.

You couldn’t help but feel worried despite knowing Chuuya could handle himself with the utmost care. He was strong both physically and ability-wise. You bit the inside of your cheek figuring, they probably weren't idiots. If they had separated the two of you they had to think you already knew something was up. You'd probably made that worse when you tried pulling away in the dance. The high-heels were beginning to get rather annoying. They were difficult to run in, jumping would probably result in a twisted ankle if you don't land perfectly. You made sure to blend away into the crowd. Losing their eyes you slipped through doors until you made it into a hallway. Laying out the map of the building in your head you walked the halls trying to find the staircase leading upstairs. You had to dodge behind corners to avoid security. It took you close to ten minutes to finally reach the stairs. There were so many rooms it would be difficult to find which one to enter. You narrowed it down to two in your head. The others would be a waste of time, the two you had narrowed it to were close to the ballroom, small, and were bar areas. Off-limits to party-goers as well. There would be no interruptions to their perverted actions.

You looked around, spotting a guard, you gripped the edge of your glove with your teeth. Walking up as if you were scared you began to stumble purposely over words. “I-i think I’m lost. I needed the ladies room and I couldn't find my sis or the ballroom.” faking tears as you got closer, the security officer's eyes softened as you approached. Taking you as a younger female instead of an adult, he offered out his hand. You gripped it before smirking as your ability activated. Moving your hand away, you tilted your head. “Sleep,” you commanded them. They fell to the floor with a thud. Grabbing the gun from their belt you checked that the safety was on. Assured it was you stashed it in your dress. Walking to the first room you burst inside finding no sign anybody had been there, you closed the door.

Making your way to the next option you pressed an ear to the door. Whispers and the sound of metal sent you to a light panic. Glaring at the door you pulled the gun out and switched the safety off. Entering the room you pointed the gun only to hear clicks follow. Your eyes darted to the sound. “So there were four.” snarling you entered and shut the door with your heel. Your mind began thinking of every way to get away from this situation. You lowered your gun with a defeated sigh. Letting it drop to the floor, one of the guns pressed to your head. Their hand grabbed your wrist as you looked to the mop of passed-out ginger.

“Damn idiot,” you hissed knowing this was probably the result of drugging. There was no way in hell he’d be beaten by mere ability-less scum. Shoved to the floor you glared. Your hands were pulled above you. Looking to the side you snickered at the poor idiot who touched your skin. “Kill your boss,” you commanded and their body dropped you and turned to the person whose hands were on your love interest. When the next guy pointed the gun at you, you swept them off their feet, whistled, and pointed. “Shoot them.” with another fire, two of three were dead. “Now shoot yourself.” and so they ended up three of three. Tossing off the heels you made your way over to Chuuya. Checking his pulse you rolled your eyes.

You lifted him in your arms before leaving the bloody scene. Your dress was now stained with splatters of crimson. Jumping from the window, then to a tree, and down, you placed Chuuya in the limo. Grabbing a bottle of water you opened his mouth and poured it down his throat. He stirred a bit, his head falling on your shoulder. Blushing lightly you found the back of his dress was open and the corset already loosened. “Got there just in time.” you sighed as the limo pulled to your small apartment. Lifting him you carried him inside. Dropping him to the bed you sat on the opposite side of the bed.

It took three hours before his eyes fluttered open. Holding his head, he glanced at you. “Why the fuck are you here?” of course his first words would be aggressive. He could hide it all he wanted by the shiver of his body and the way his hands moved to his back made it clear. Finding the strings and ribbon undone as well as torn his eyes widened for a fraction.

“Sorry, I wasn’t expecting to be separated like that.” you played around with your gloves looking back at him you pulled a thing of makeup wipes from the side table. Tossing it to him, you sighed. “I hope you don’t mind, I had Dazai lock pick your door and get you your usual clothes.” he couldn’t even be mad at you for letting that bastard into his house. His mind was still focused on recollecting what had happened. He was beyond humiliated. He should have seen it coming. “I should have gotten there faster. They shouldn’t have been able to even get that close. I’m so sorry Chuuya! I’ll talk to Mori about not putting you on these types of missions. I know you're mad but please… say something.” you twirled a strand of your hair on your finger.

“I should have been prepared.” he looked away from you before feeling your arms around his body. Your head laid in the crook of his neck as you shook your head violently. He felt something wet soil, the shoulder of his dress. Turning so he could pick your head up, he blinked, startled to see the water dripping from your eyes. “You’re crying?” he sounded baffled, confused even.

“I should have let you be yourself! If I hadn’t pushed you to act like an innocent defenseless child, that situation would have been different.'' Chuuya gripped your shoulders laughing lightly as he shook his head. “You didn’t even have a good time! You hated being there.”

“No, no, (y/n)... I... Fuck!” he was bad at words, so as he tried forming the correct words he kept shaking his head. “I enjoyed spending time with you! I’d prefer to accompany you as a man next time. Neither of us are at fault. Missions go south. Nobody got hurt, sure I feel like an idiot, I’m utterly humiliated that I let my guard down and got drugged up, but nothing happened.” he pressed his forehead against yours, his thumb wiping away the tears on your cheeks.

This was out of character for him, but it was a side only you gotta see. He hated seeing you break down or get upset over things you had no control over. His hands wrapped around your ungloved ones. Your skin touches him with a small shyness. “Can I?” he asked watching you nod as his lips passed over yours.

“We both deserve a break from work. How about we tell Mori we are taking two days off?” you hummed looking into his eyes. He smirked and nodded. His lips pressing back to yours in a heated kiss. You pressed him underneath you with a smirk. His face went red as he glared.

“You’re a fucking pervert.” he hissed watching you snicker.

“Wow Chu, I'm so offended.” you leaned back into a kiss as his cheeks turned a brighter shade of red. “Think this makes us a real couple.” he rolled his eyes as you rolled to lay next to him.

“Yeah, I guess.”

[simpuritysims]

We still have one full day left in Shang Simla before going back to the island, which in practice means we couldn't do much but there were some little things.

[gentlemancrow]

Written in the Stars Will Have to Do

OK so I saw @hey-there-hunter ‘s JMart Wedding Challenge and I pretty much fan ficced immediately??  Like it was an instantaneous plot bunny that stabbed me in the brain and would not let me free until I made it exist.  SO HERE YOU GO!  Read it here or head on over to AO3 below!  And enjoy some unapologetically aggressive fluff with weddings!  Also subtitled someday Crow will stop abusing excessive astral imagery and symbolism for extended metaphors, but today is not that day.

Read on AO3 instead!

Written in the Stars Will Have to Do

Jonathan Sims always thought of himself as a man with a deep appreciation for the great literature of the world.  A passionate turn of phrase, crystalline motes of clear imagery like snowflakes reflecting light in his mental scape, a devastating contemplation on the nature of good and evil in the hearts of all mankind, everything that could express the beauty and tragedy of the world in ways he never could.  Prose was a bright paintbrush on a ragged canvas of the universe he had known from an early age was swathed in shadow and pain and evil, and those words on those pages, for at least a moment, were another world he could hold in his hands, could cradle and protect, could mourn.  He liked the power of them as well, of the tinkling brightness of alliteration, the oaky sophistication of a well-aged metaphor, the evocativeness of the idiosyncrasy in a simple simile, laying bare truths in ways he never could have articulated for himself.

There was one thing he could not abide by in language, however, one cardinal sin liable to besmirch any piece of lush and sparkling verse or prose and taint it forever.  And that was idioms.

Jon loathed idioms and their dismally quirky cliches dressed in familiarity’s tacky clothing almost as much as he hated spiders.  Perhaps it was something about their reliance on common knowledge and repetition.  He couldn’t bear reading the same book twice, or even a book that felt too familiar, it only made sense that hearing a hackneyed phrase repeated in that awful singsong sardonic tone of someone who knows full well they’re saying something asinine that has been repeated ad nauseum for millennia would scrape at the back of his skull and down his spine.  They were too whimsical and blasé, crutch words for when one’s limited lexicon came up empty, or worse, for ill comedic effect.  They reinforced that staunchly English notion of skirting about the true depth and breadth of emotion for clipped niceties and unfeeling banalities.  Idioms to him were mere verbal window boxes, colorful and meaningless, dressings for untold disasters behind the shining windows they peacocked before.  

He hated them all with vaguely equal rancor, but there was one he could definitely single out as the one he hated the most, and that was the one about hanging the moon.  Such and such thinks you hung the moon, to me you hung the moon, and so on.  This particular rhetorical felony attracted his wrath only marginally because any moon symbolism never failed to feel outlandish and infantile, a mawkish image of love and care rampant in nursery rhymes and cheap commercialized slogans for t-shirts and wall art.  That was the least of it.  He hated the idea of hanging the moon mostly because once, another lifetime ago now it seemed, Tim Stoker had lobbed it in his face in a fit of smoldering rage and he had been completely, complacently, ignorant of its magnitude.  

Funny thing was, he couldn’t even remember what the actual fight had been about any longer.  Though he could remember exactly where he was standing, cornered next to the file cabinet for the year 1985, January through February, and the label had been peeling up on the upper left-hand corner.  He remembered he’d discovered a hole in the elbow of his jumper that morning and he had been obsessing over it all day, fussing with the dangling green thread and tugging at the knit as if it might magically close the wound.  He’d put his finger clean through it with his arms crossed haughtily over his chest without even realizing he’d been fiddling with it when something flippant about Martin came out of his mouth.  It hadn’t even been cruel, he couldn’t even remember how Martin had come up in the argument in the first place, he could only remember Tim’s mouth moving like he wanted to say something else, then him forcibly stopping himself before he snarled.

“Yeah well, god knows why, but he thinks you hung the moon, so you might try treating him at the very least like a human being once in a while.”

It was such a small thing.  Small words for a small feeling cloaked in a chintzy veneer of idiomatic dismissal.  A trembling little bird cupped in his scarred and battered hands and smothered.  Or so he thought.  Sometimes trembling little birds turn out to be phoenixes, and those who looked to someone else to hang the comfort of a wise, silvery moon in the sky already have the hammer and the picture wire at the ready.

As far as Jon was concerned, the moon only rose on their Somewhere Else because Martin deigned to pull the strings every night, not him.

It was Martin who brought him tea every morning, set it down on the breakfast table with that little flip of the tag and the deft, one-fingered turn of the handle toward him.  It was Martin who scolded him because whites are a separate load, Jon, were you raised in a barn?  Martin who talked him through every episode of the Doctor Who reruns that were the only thing their ancient aerial could pick up.  Martin who planted flowers in the garden and brought muffins from the sweet old lady at the grocers because they traded baking recipes.  Martin who still looked at him with diaphanous pools of ethereal moonlight in his eyes and his smile like he alone hung it in the sky over his head to wash him in its radiance.

Even after everything.

Even after it had been Martin who had to hold the knife buried in his chest as he lay gasping wetly for breath in an alleyway in Another Chelsea to keep the hemorrhaging at bay.  Martin who had cupped his face in his bloody hands with tears streaming down his and forced him to focus, furious love blazing in his sea mist eyes as they locked with his, screaming at him and him only, heedless of anything else.

“Look at me.  LOOK at me, Jon!  Stay with me!  Stay with me, DAMN YOU!”

Stay with me had not been a plea, it had been a command.  He had never once said please because it was never an option.  Shivering, breathing blood through his teeth, the streetlights a fading, star studded halo in Martin’s strawberry blond curls be damned, he was right.  Against every tangled thread of fate twisted deep into his flesh, or perhaps because they had been the only thing that held his torn innards together, he made it to the part where he awoke a few fractured times to nothingness, and then to fingers he knew every inch of inextricably bound up in his and a fierce whisper in his ear.

“I’m here, Jon.  I’m still here.  I’ve got you.  I’m going to fix this.  I’m going to get us out of here.  We’re going to be okay.”

It had been Martin who orchestrated their clandestine escape from the hospital the moment they both agreed he was well enough to survive under his rudimentary medical care and before the authorities got too invested in an urban ghost story of two men who didn’t exist.  Not to mention one of which should, by all medical and logical law, be dead.  It had been Martin who had stolen the necessary antibiotics, drugs, and wound care supplies, Martin who had picked enough pockets to buy passage on a midnight train to the only place they could think to go, and expressly told Jon not to ask where he learned how, even though he knew full well he would later.  Martin who had fought for everything and kept him hidden and safe while he lay in a dingy hotel room somewhere in Scotland, drifting in and out of consciousness between kisses, cold compresses, spoonfuls of whatever he could get him to swallow and keep down, and desperate ‘I love you’s.

Martin had been the one who hung the moon even on the nights Jon couldn’t see it, just so he knew it was there, that the light might finally guide him home.  Not him.  He could have never done something so selfless and simple and beautiful.  No not him.  Not The Archivist.  How could he have ever known that?  Stupid, myopic, pedantic, all-seeing and blind.  A blustering, sanctimonious Tiresias in a sweater vest and half-moon glasses.  And how important was the moon, anyway that he was expected to hang it too?  Would not night still come and the stars still shine?  The stupid, vapid saying should have been about the sun anyway.  Something that nourished and guided and warmed.  Not the moon.  Not the thing of night and hungry wolves and quiet loneliness.  Not a thing of the darkness they fought and still not won, not exactly, not in a way that mattered.  How could he have known the weight of such a thoughtless, frivolous, meaningless phrase and how far and how long Martin had borne it for him to protect he who hung his moon?  

He could see the weight of it so clearly now.  He could see it especially on the darkest days, which came, in grotesque mockery, the moment they found something like their safehouse and rest at last.  Jon had conned his way into a job at the village library with an ancient head librarian who didn’t care much for too many questions, or background or credit checks, and was more than happy to pay in cash.  With Martin’s help of course.  Martin himself had taken up stocking at the village grocers, and their life had teetered onto something so close to quaint and normal it suddenly laid bare the gravity of the depths of darkness they had escaped.

No longer did they have to run, no longer did they have to fight, they could finally lay down the chase and curl in upon each other to lick their wounds in quiet.  But without the driving, primal instinct to live, to survive, that ushered in the days where all the hurt came back to roost and brood and fester.  The days where he couldn’t bring himself to get out of bed, or the days Martin couldn’t bear the sound of his voice, or the days they shouted themselves hoarse, stormed apart for hours then came back, silent and broken, red-eyed and exhausted to hold each other and weep into the spaces between neck and shoulder where it still smelled like love and home.

He could see so painfully clearly the toll following him to the ends of the cosmos and back had etched its marks into his goodness, his body and soul, see how often he would walk down the road from their cabin, just a little ways, to stand on the heather spotted hills and gaze out into the frigid infinity of the gray sea.  Cold terror would grip him then, incite a desperate want to run after him, to throw his arms around him and bring him home, but also the fear it would only be to have him turn to mist and slip through his fingers forever.  He always had a cup of steaming tea waiting for him when he came back, just in case.

But again, and always.  It was Martin who would pick up Jon’s hands, kiss every slender, scarred finger through his tears and be the first one to utter ‘I’m sorry.’  Martin who told him with just a single scathing flash of stern blue eyes and not a single word uttered that he was certainly coming to bed and not banishing himself to the couch like an idiot.  Martin who wrapped him in his arms and warmth and boundless love and reminded him, “One way or another.  Together.  That was the deal, right?  You don’t get to back out now.  No returns, refunds, or exchanges, I’m afraid.”

And even through the deepest sobs he would find the laugh Jon didn��t think was in him.  Martin sifted through the mire and the muck and held fast to the tiny, shining things so easy to lose in the darkness.  Things Jon was certain were lost forever, only to be reignited and hung in the brightening sky of their story.  Even if they weren’t quite the moon yet.

It had also been Martin who, on a perfectly ordinary day, on a simple walk through the local farmers market, stopped to peruse one of the usual unremarkable stalls filled with crystals and oils and trinkets.  Jon had wandered off to procure the parsnips and the strawberries, unrelated recipes Martin swore, he had been tasked with finding.  When he returned he found him, a radiant monument tall among the faceless locals, rusty curls caressing his face in the salty breeze, carved of marble and rose quartz and gazing down at a pair of hematite rings on a velvet display box.  His eyes were distant, but not in the enthralled, disembodied way they were when he looked at the sea, or the broken way when they weren’t speaking, but in the contemplative, regarding of puzzle pieces way when he would look into the fire during their talks and turn his words in his mind over and over again like a rock tumbler until they were polished just right.

“Getting into crystals now, are we?” Jon had joked, “Surely I’m not so dull to be around that that’s becoming an attractive hobby.”

Martin snorted and shook his head.

“Supposed to mean healing, or grounding, or something.  Aligning your meridians, I think the lady said?  Whatever that means,” he elaborated, reaching out to touch.

They clinked weightily together, thick and glossy and the dark astral gray of a moonless night.  Martin turned over the card that went with them and read.

“’A grounding stone that belongs to the planet Mars.  It strengthens our connections to the earth and aids the warrior on their journey.  It is a stone of invincibility, but also fragility.  It balances yin and yang energies with its magnetic properties for the perfect reflection upon one’s own soul, astral, physical, and spiritual.’”

“Hematite, is it?” Jon asked, “Also more commonly called bloodstone.  You know if you scratch it, it leaves a red mark.  Like it’s bleeding.  Watch.”

He picked up one of the rings and firmly ran it down the corner of the card Martin had been reading from.  Sure enough, the black stone had left a faint, but starkly crimson mark on the yellowed paper.

“It BLEEDS?” Martin exclaimed in horror.

“It’s just a kind of iron oxide, so, rust, basically,” Jon explained with a chuckle, “Kind of weirdly romantic if you think about it?  This intimidating shiny black stone like armor, made of iron to boot, but with a bleeding heart at its core.”

“I just thought it was pretty, I didn’t know it bleeds,” Martin had laughed in that incredulous way he always did when Jon was telling him something he didn’t actually want to know, but appreciated anyway.

“I find that the strongest, prettiest things often do,” Jon had said in reply.  He remembered saying that particularly clearly, waxing poetic, feeling a swell of affection for the hugely beautiful man he leaned against and was adorably aghast at bleeding rocks.

“Yeah, I reckon they do,” Martin murmured back.

And then his cheeks had flushed bright red under his freckles and the stone steps of his shoulders crumbled a bit under the crushing ancientness and vastness of what he had originally been pondering.

“So, I mean, before you spoiled it with the blood thing.  I was thinking… Well, I was just having a browse and I saw these and I thought they were quite fetching, and then the lady told me they meant grounding and healing and a journey, like on the card.  A-And there were two of them, all by themselves, and everything else was so colorful and flashy these were just so… Um.  Maybe the blood and rusty iron thing makes it more poetic now, actually?  I don’t know.  Sorry I-  This sounded so much better in my head.”

It wasn’t his fault, Jon remembered thinking.  Martin couldn’t find the words because there weren’t any.  Not in this universe or any other.  Not for what they’d gone through, and especially not for what they meant to each other.

“I guess I was just thinking.  If… I bought one.  And wore it.  Sort of like.  Um.  You know.  Would… Would you-?” he had asked, his voice trembling.

Jon had never said yes, yes of course he would, faster or with more conviction in his life.  And there was that look again, rising from the ashes, that flooding of golden, unbound love and light, of eyes turned sky blue, of looking at the man who hung his moon in the sky come back to him.  He could still hang Martin’s moon all over again after so many nights of black clouds and darkness, even if it was only paper.  They’d paid for the rings in rumpled bills, exchanged them right then and there, and kissed each other as the crowd of oblivious people in a world they did not belong in flowed like a river around them.  Jon forgot the bag with the parsnips and strawberries.

But it didn’t matter.  It didn’t even matter that Martin’s fit nicely on his ring finger, but Jon had to wear his on his thumb, and even then sometimes on a chain around his neck for fear of losing it.  It didn’t matter that it was the closest thing they were ever going to get to a proposal and a wedding, consigned now forever to the shadows in a borrowed reality with only each other.  Because it was theirs, and they could begin to figure out how their broken pieces fit back together again.

But like most things that don’t matter, it didn’t until it did.

It began as simple things.  Seeing a wedding on some program they weren’t actually paying much attention to and Martin making a flippant, innocuous comment as he combed his fingers lovingly through Jon’s long and silvered chestnut hair in his lap about how he would have loved to have a cake that had a different flavor on every tier at their wedding.  Just so everyone could have something they liked.  And Jon woke up from his half catlike stupor and looked up at him with such aching regret as those words settled into the pit of his heart alongside ‘he thinks you hung the moon.’  

And soon they began to gather a collection of completely innocent remarks that ran the gamut from ‘would they have worn black or white?  Or one of each?  I don’t know… does it really matter?  And were these engagement rings or wedding rings?  I don’t know.  Neither?  both?  And do we say husband instead of boyfriend now?  Fiancé?  Whatever you want, Martin…’ To the heavier, cancerous weights that sank to the bottom of his gut, even below hanging the moon, like ‘I know Tim would have thrown the most amazing bachelor party for both of us, and his mum had always talked about him getting married someday like it was a farfetched pipe dream, but she would be happy for them, he thinks.’

He could never answer those questions.  There was too much at stake, too much finality and familiarity in them, a strange weightlessness in a world that weighed far too much.  The sun and moon continued their eternal dance of time, ignorant, unbothered, but Jon kept collecting those silent debts of normal life, secreting them away in a hidden singularity in his heart that only grew heavier and metastasized farther the more times Martin walked out at night, not him, beaming starlight from his eyes and his fingertips, to hang the moon again.  So soft, so full of wooly cows and pink heather and the smell of tea and sea salt and Martin’s shampoo on the pillow next to him did it become, that it was almost inevitable that one morning Jon awoke absolutely convinced none of it could be real.  

The moment he decided that, everything made so much more sense.  He could breathe again.  There was a reason he could never sit still, never just feel at ease or talk about the future like it was a real thing that could still happen.  He knew why the silence made his brain itch and why he still glanced around corners and glowered at anyone who dared let their gaze linger on his Martin too long.  Why Martin’s ring fit and his didn’t.  There was too much debt to the universe to be paid, too many broken promises, too many corpses in his wake, he had done nothing to deserve this idyllic life of love and peace and smallness and Martin.  It had to be Her doing, It’s doing, some carefully woven torture chamber that would lure them to the apex of their joy, the center of the web, where they would just be devoured over and over to empty husks and set up like chess pieces to fill with love and light just to knock down again.  He wasn’t free after all.

Jon had been halfway into his coat and halfway out the door to do, he didn’t know, something, anything, to go to the library to use their computer and research something he didn’t know he was looking for when Martin had seized his hand and whirled him around.

“Jon.  STOP.  It’s over.”

And he’d stopped.  He’d looked into those baleful blue eyes, fallen into their depths, landed on the precipice of madness, and broken.  It wasn’t over.  Not for him.  He finally understood.  It was still there.  The Eye.  It always had been.  Though not really, he understood slowly as he wept on his knees in their doorway into Martin’s chest, it had indeed closed forever on him, but it lingered as distant static, like a phantom limb, a metaphysical itch that could never be scratched.  Martin had cradled him close and listened, listened so patiently as he ripped the jagged black fear from the deepest, ugliest part of his heart, hauled it up bloody and messy from his throat and finally laid it bare for both of them to see.  And when it was done and he couldn’t cry anymore Martin had locked eyes with him in a way that made him forget any others could have ever existed outside of crystalline blue and filled with moonlight.

“Listen to me.  I know you think you have some cosmic burden to bear.  That you’re still wearing some… some fucked up crown and sitting on a throne of skulls and death and eyeballs or whatever image you want to put there, and that you have to sit and hurt and watch over everything so it doesn’t happen again, but...  Sorry, Jon, but that’s bullshit.  It’s just a scar now.  That’s all.  Just like the rest of them.  Ugly and beautiful and proof that you —Jonathan Sims— are still alive.  And you are not The Archivist anymore.  You’re just mine.  My Jon.”

He’d held his Jon’s stunned face in his hands and peppered kisses over the pock marks in his skin, over the slash on his throat, the burnt fingers that still couldn’t bend quite right, even the one on his chest, the one almost always hidden by fabric but the one he didn’t need to see to find.  His heart and fingers would always remember exactly where it was.  And he’d kept his lips there a moment, then turned his ear to his chest and wrapped his arms around his waist to listen to his heartbeat like a trembling little bird.

“If I can hear it and feel it.  So can you,” he whispered.

Unsteady fingers curled desperately into Martin’s silky locks, hematite loop cool against his scalp, “Thank you…”

Martin stayed for the kiss on top of his head he knew was coming and smiled.

“Okay, so it’s simple to fix if you think about it,” he murmured into Jon’s chest, “We just need that thing, you know?  The thing that makes you feel like you’re still doing the thing, but you’re not.  What was the word for it again?  A placeholder?  Like when you quit smoking and you hold a pencil or a straw or something that’s not actually a cigarette so you can wean yourself off the ritual?”

Jon blinked owlishly down at him as he dried his eyes.

“A… placebo?  Are you talking about a placebo?”

“Yeah!  That’s it!  We just need to find you a placebo for Knowing things!  That’s all.  Like… reality shows, or-or zoo cams or something!  We’ll figure it out together.  Alright, love?  I promise you.  It’ll be okay.”

Jon was skeptical, so very skeptical, but if Martin was determined to find a balm to soothe his jagged, ontological scars he would happily play the part of lab rat for him.  They’d tried a myriad things to replicate the feeling of Knowing and looking something deep within him still craved.  The zoo and animal livestreams were a bust, cute and entertaining as they were, but animals weren’t ever the purview of The Eye and the camera itself was barely a scrap.  Reality shows came closer, the more salacious the better, but even that temporary fix wore off when Jon’s disgust with the overall content and participants outweighed any benefit.  Martin was just happy to have finally converted him to Bake Off, at least.  They tried people watching in the square in the village, but it made Jon far too self-conscious and guilty.  He used the binoculars exactly once, and that was to look at the cows in the fields, and the choose-your-own-adventure books Martin had been certain would strike a sagacious chord wound up in the donation bin at the library.  But that was when he was struck with a bolt of genius.

Unbeknownst to Jon, which brought him no small measure of glee, Martin ordered, received, and then set up with a literal bow in their back garden the finest telescope he could afford on his meager savings.  He’d researched for days, asked on every amateur astronomer forum he could find, and had it delivered to the grocers so he could make it a proper surprise.  He’d even gone so far as to attack and blindfold a hapless Jon the moment he made it home from work on the day it was ready, and stood behind him giddily bouncing as he tore the tea towel away from his eyes.

“A… Telescope?” he’d blurted dumbly.

“Yes!  It’s perfect, right?  I asked around to find the one that had all the best features, and this one has the best overall magnification and the most lenses, but it doesn’t have the little satellite positioning thing?  I figured you wouldn’t want that anyway, you always like figuring things out and finding things on your own better.”

Martin had been positively radiant.  Jon had just stared at the gawping black tube and chewed the inside of his cheek as he processed what to say.

“I mean… thank you, Martin, really.  It was a sweet thought, but if the binoculars didn’t-“

“Screw the binoculars!  This is different!” Martin happily insisted, “You can look at so much more!  Stars and planets and galaxies and what have you, and it can maybe be sort of like you’re looking for other worlds?  Wormholes or whatever?  Or signs of The Fears and where they’ve gone?  Or even if the stars are the same here as they were back before?  Space literally has so many things to LOOK at we can’t even count them!  This has got to be it!”

Jon tried to smile and laugh and agree to try it out, at the very least, if only because Martin was beaming so sweetly with pride and hope.  Though that first night he didn’t, ushering them back in with promises of tomorrow, Martin, I promise tomorrow. ��Tomorrow had been a lie.  As had been the next night.  In fact, it took Jon a full week to even remember they even had a telescope, and that was only after getting the smuggest, Cheshire grin out of Martin after casually mentioning there would be a visible, if partial, lunar eclipse that night.  He’d relented, only because he’d entrapped himself, and they’d both bundled up, looked in the manual for the best size lens to view the moon with, poured a few glasses of wine, and turned their eyes to the stars.

Martin had gone first, gripping the eyepiece and adjusting the focus all the while gasping in awe.  It was so beautiful he’d burst into poetry with a crooked grin.

“Art thou pale for weariness?  Of climbing heaven and gazing on the earth, wandering companionless among the stars that have a different birth, and ever changing, like a joyless eye that finds no object worth its constancy?  Sounds a little familiar, eh?” he joked, casting a wry look over his shoulder.

Jon rolled his eyes fondly.

“Gross.  Keats again?”

“Nope, Shelley this time, and even he thinks you ought to have a look at the moon.  I think you’ll find you have a lot in common.”

Jon had sighed obligingly and shuffled to the telescope, fully expecting to look at something bright and round with a bit of a shadow on it that was distinctly unremarkable, have another glass of wine, and then go back inside to snuggle by the fire.  What he saw in that tiny pinhole of light pierced straight through the hazel brown of his eye and plunged him into another world entirely.

The sands of the moon glowed the purest white in the refracted light of the distant sun with which it waltzed.  He could see in crisp, shadowy relief the innumerable scars she bore, the depth and breadth of Ptolemaeus, the boundless lonely flatness of the maria, named for the oceans they were once thought to be, an insult to the rock plains forged a millennia ago in birth by cataclysmic fire.  Every crater remained wrought in perfect, frozen detail with no erosion or foliage to slowly heal them over, and she beamed them proudly, ostentatiously in her heavenly light.  A hulking, ancient protectorate, hung by the hands of creation at the dawn of time for a fledgling planet, hundreds of thousands of miles away, and yet so crystal clear and unafraid as he perused her millions of years of cosmic sentinel through a lens.  It was dwarfing, humbling, viscerally awe inspiring in a way he dared not voice for fear of snuffing out the fragile glow of wonder and excitement welling in his chest he had been so certain was gone forever.

Astronomy had never been something that had particularly interested Jon, back when his entire reality from the moment his childish hands had touched a single book was spent peering into shadows and watching his own back.  There was no point in wondering what lay among the stars when danger and death lurked so close behind with slavering jaws ever poised at his throat on terra firma, but now.  Now, he had been living in an alternate world, dimension, reality, somewhere, he couldn’t even say for sure.  He’d been hurled potentially through the very stars that twinkled coquettishly above, flashed through their nebulous veils and curtains under their indifferent gaseous gazes, but seen nothing.  Here was a vast expanse of complete chaotic indefiniteness inviting him in to see what few had ever seen, to guess and hypothesize and gesture wildly at secrets only the stars could keep.  To Know.

Jon had jerked back so suddenly from the telescope to survey the entirety of the astral dome above them that Martin had choked on his wine.

“Jon?  Are you quite alright?”

“Yes, I…” he’d murmured, only even half hearing that Martin had said anything at all, stars reflected in his wondering dark eyes, “I’m fine, I just… How… How much more can this see?  How deep does it go?”

Jon hadn’t seen the victorious smirk on Martin’s face as he set down his wine glass and picked up the instruction manual and lens guide.  They’d watched the rest of the eclipse, of course, marveling through the lens at the inky trickle of shadow over craggy white, but then they’d changed the lens to the strongest one, according to the guide, and spent the rest of the evening triangulating their position beneath their slice of the universe and plotting out the various stars, planets, and constellations above.  Jon had even dashed inside to grab a mostly blank notebook and had filled several pages with notes and observations and things to research later, all while Martin held back tears watching him come so alive over a project he didn’t even know he needed.  Eventually though, sleepiness and cold claimed him, and he kissed his beloved goodnight and left him, more than gladly, to ride out the intellectual flare up until it burnt both him and itself out.  

Martin had no clue what time it was when he finally returned, and it didn’t even matter.  All that mattered was at some point, a practically frozen Jon had climbed into bed, snuggled up close behind and wrapped his arms around him to kiss the back of his neck so softly like the wings of a butterfly and whisper.

“Thank you.”

Another victorious smirk and a loving murmur.

“Told you so.”

Where there had been nothing but an Eye shaped hole in him, scarred around the edges and aching in its vacuum, Jon had filled it with the names of nebulas and quasars, of the myth of Andromeda, and Orion, and Castor and Pollux, or Hercules, and why they had all been hung in the stars for eternity.  The stories were much the same as he remembered, but he’d found slight eccentricities, tiny irregularities in the sky which fascinated him even more so.  Night after night he would look at a different astral body, chart it down in his notebook, then come bounding in with starlight beaming from his eyes and his fingertips with some cry of eureka.

“Martin!  Did you know here Polaris is in the south and Sirius is in the north?”

“Martin!  Did you know the Andromeda Galaxy is actually a little closer to the Milky Way here?”

“Martin, you have to come see this!  Oh, no it’s not weird this time, it’s just I finally got Saturn in the telescope and you can actually see the rings!”

His nightly herald would always be different, but Martin would always rise from the comfort of the couch, put his slippers on, and let Jon talk as long as he needed to about his latest discovery, watching him smile again while he, too, watched the matching smile it never failed to ignite illuminate Martin’s face and they lit each other up in the fused brilliance of a binary star.

Martin no longer hung the moon for Jon, he’d finally just up and quite literally given it to him, and there was no mortal way to repay him for that.  Or so he’d thought.  It came to him, as most flashes of brilliance do, on a night he hadn’t even been thinking about it at all.  All he had been doing was sitting in a lawn chair with his telescope long after Martin had gone to bed, chewing his pencil idly, vaguely missing a cigarette and pondering notes on Vega and Lyra between watching it through his lens.  He’d been stuck for days on Vega and its potentiality for another solar system and what that could imply for their new Earth and their new sun, as well as Lyra and the tragic tale of Orpheus and his doomed love.  Even in their new reality he still turned back at the end of the story, still could not contain the roiling, effusive adoration to his own downfall.

Bitterness had risen like bile in the back of Jon’s throat as he replayed the myth again in his head, unsure why it was vexing him and rewinding in his brain so torturously.  “Stupid, stupid man, if he’d only just…” he’d thought again and again, each time giving the star-crossed musician a different decision, a different choice, urging him down another path somewhere, anywhere along his journey, but in the end, he’d always looped back around to the original.  It was the point of the story, after all.  Not so much the love itself or even the loss of it, but the power of it over one man and the creation born from his mourning and eventual destruction.  Patently Greek.  But the chorus would always begin again in Jon’s head.  If he’d kept his Eurydice, if his songs had been happy, if he hadn’t spent the rest of his life mourning so intensely he was eventually destroyed for it, would he have become the paragon of healing he was, the oracle, the lynchpin of the fate of the world he had eventually become?  Which of them was the stupider man?

Jon was only mortal now, he was no longer all-seeing oracle and dark savior, he had no authority to say, but it was a trifle easier to ponder the hubris of Orpheus instead of his own.  He couldn’t help but think, achingly, sometimes the heroes just deserved to pull their beloved from the pit of Tartarus, promise to love them for eternity, and then simply get married, ride off into the sunset, and live happily ever after.  A story wasn’t a story if it didn’t write itself upon the very bones and sinews of its heroes, that was the law of the universe, but when the story was done and the cracks and fissures in their tissues had faded to myth and legend, what became of the heroes who did not die a tragic or heroic death and were not hung in the stars?  What happened to heroes left behind?  Twisting his bloodstone ring on his thumb idly as it caught the shivering fire of those stars in its dark mirrored surface, the musical arrow of the muses pierced his heart, wide-eyed in wonder.  He’d asked the universe, but he already knew the answer.  He’d always known.  He knew, and he knew it with such clarion joy as he had never known anything before.

He could no longer be the man who hung Martin’s moon, he hadn’t been for a long time.  That much was clear to him, but he could certainly do something else.  Perhaps they had grown past the need for moon hangings in the first place.  He knew how their story ended.

It took months of saving, secreting, preparation, and then finally just simply waiting for the perfect, clear night.  The moment it came, the moment he knew it was the night, Jon struck without hesitation.  Poor Martin wanted nothing more than to collapse onto the couch, into Jon, when he returned from a late shift at the grocers, but found himself instead stuffed right back into his coat with a picnic basket in hand and hauled out into the frigid night in a flurry of Jon with little time to protest.  He bounded up the hill behind their little cottage beneath a perfect blanket of stars flaming coldly overhead, trailing Martin’s hand in his behind with his breath coming in silvery puffs of clouds, and paying no heed to the whining.

“Jon, whatever it is, does it have to be NOW?” Martin panted, “I am absolutely knackered and it’s beyond freezing and wouldn’t it be nicer just to curl up with a cuppa and fall asleep in front of Star Wars or something?  Doesn’t that have enough stars and space in it?”

Dauntless, Jon only tugged harder.

“There’s tea in the basket, and I’ve seen Star Wars.  And yes, it has to be tonight, it’s really important, I promise.”

“Look.  I love you.  So much.  You know this, and please know it is with the utmost love and deepest affection in my heart that I point out that you say that every time, and you’ve still shown me Pluto like, a hundred separate times.  While I quite like it, and I still feel sorry for it being bumped out of the solar system and all, it’s just a dot?  How many times can you look at a dot?” Martin sighed.

His words finally threw a caltrop into Jon’s warpath, and he paused, turning over his shoulder woundedly.

“What?  No, it’s not Pluto, I swear just- Please, Martin?  I’ll never ask again if you don’t want to, but just for tonight, please?” he pleaded.

Martin winced, and immediately folded under the onslaught of doleful honeyed brown eyes under a nimbus of stars.

“Oh, lord there you go with the puppy dog eyes.  Okay, okay fine, but there better be a nip of whiskey in this,” he chided lovingly with a gesture at the thermos in the basket.

The smile flared back to life brightly on Jon’s face as he turned back up the craggy little footpath to the top of the hill.

“Of course, hot toddy with tea.”

“Ooh, lovely, you do know me.”

The rest of the way was trivially short to the small, flat hilltop surrounded by heather where Jon had already set up a blanket and the telescope over a pristine vista of the dark line where the stars sank into the sea.  He ushered Martin to sit down first, then perched on his hip beside him and poured him a generous helping of tea and whiskey from the thermos before pouring his own.

“Thanks, much.  Right then, what exactly are we up here to look at that we couldn’t see from our garden?” Martin asked, accepting his cup of potent hot toddy and sipping it gratefully around the lemony steam that billowed up.

Taken aback by the sudden logic lobbed into the center of his romantic posturing, Jon looked momentarily stunned, as if someone had slapped him upside the head.

“Oh!  Oh, um, well-!  Ahah, that is to say- Uh.  There is a reason for all this.  It’s not that we couldn’t see it from our garden, we very much could have.  B-But it’s so beautiful up here, and you can kind of hear the sea?  And it’s nice and peaceful, and the heather is still blooming a bit and um…” he trailed off, cheeks burning.

“Okay…?” Martin probed, frowning a little.

“Er, actually...  It’s less about the stars than it is- W-Well it is about the stars.  Let’s get that clear.  But to be completely honest I mostly just… I-I well.  There’s something I need to tell you?”

Jon was ill-prepared for the look of abject horror on Martin’s face as he went paler than the moon overhead.

“Shit, what is it?  Did you find something?  You saw something?  There’s been a sign of The Fears?  Oh god it’s not HER is it?” he asked frantically, nearly slopping hot toddy all over his lap.

“What?  No!  No, none of that!” Jon spluttered, aghast.

Martin regained a modicum of color in his face and breathed in measuredly.

“Okay, so then what is it?  Oh god, you’re not… Jon you’re not ill, or something, are you?  Please, you can just tell me if-“

“No, I am not ill either, damn it, Martin!  If you would just listen to me!  I-!” Jon moaned exasperatedly, “I just wanted to do something… nice.  Something nice for you.  And nicer than I normally would because I am apparently much worse at crafting romantic moments than I thought and-“

“Wait…” Martin cut in, eyes gleaming with realization, “Jonathan Sims… Are you grand gesturing?”

“Well I am certainly trying but you are making it exceedingly difficult!” he retorted, red in the face and breathless.

“Oh my god, you are!  I’m so sorry!” Martin laughed brightly, “Oh god Jon you poor thing I’m so sorry, I’m awful, I’m the absolute worst!  No please!  Don’t let me spoil it.  Please go on.”

Grinding the heel of his palm into his forehead, Jon tried to summon the words again, only for Martin’s strong, warm hands to take it from him and tip his chin up to gaze into his eyes.

“Hey.  Hey, Jon.  Look at me,” he breathed, looking into his eyes idolatrously, “I’m sorry.  I love you.  You can tell me.”

Taking the steadiness from those clear blue depths he needed, Jon focused on them, on the strawberry blond curls tossing in the icy breeze, of the kiss of chilled pink under his freckles, and that eternal, sunshine smile.

“Okay,” he finally answered, smiling softly.

With a deep, shuddering breath, and a long swig of whiskey laced tea for good measure, Jon drew himself up and fished deep in his soul for the words he had waited a millennium to say.

“Okay… So here it is.  Um… I’ve um, I’ve had a lot of time alone lately with my new hobby, as it were.  So, I’ve been doing a lot of thinking.  A lot of it is overly complicated and ridiculous and doesn’t deserve to live outside of my head but… a lot of it has been about you, about us.  And I know we don’t need to-to put a label on us or put us into a… a box or anything like that.  But every time I look at this ring on my finger, I can’t help but remember we never actually talked about what they meant,” he began, holding out his left hand and fidgeting with the loose band around his thumb.

“Oh Jon, don’t worry about that.  It was just me being a big sappy, sentimental dork.  And if I recall correctly, we’d had a pretty awful row a night or two before, and I just wanted to feel close to you again, I guess?  We both know what they mean to us.  It doesn’t matter,” Martin assured him sweetly.

“Except that it does!” Jon insisted passionately, “That’s the point!  You are a big sappy, sentimental dork, Martin.  I bet you were the kid that had a dream wedding all planned in a notebook with pictures cut out of magazines and everything.  I adore that about you, but big sappy sentimental dorks should have big sappy, sentimental moments like huge, expensive seaside weddings with three-flavor cakes and all your friends and family and rose petals and dove releases and whatever else your heart could dream up.”

Martin snickered and shook his head, charmed at least by the mental image of kissing Jon on a seaside cliff at sunset while doves flew in glorious formation around them and everyone they had ever known and loved cheered.

“Pfft, I don’t need a grand wedding and all that, I just need-”

“Me.  I know,” Jon finished for him with a smirk, “I knew you’d say that.  Maybe not.  But you deserve one.  And I know I don’t use that word lightly, but it’s necessary in this case.  You deserve it.  All of it.  Me on one knee with a ring in a box, you deserve us picking out flowers and tuxedos and arguing over the font on the invitations.  You deserve Tim’s awful bachelor party and laughing at me at the altar because I had to read my vows off a card and they’re still so stiff and awkward and they pale in comparison to the beautiful poem you wrote about me.  You deserve smiling so hard your cheeks hurt and crying as we exchange rings.  All of it.”

Martin weighed his words carefully on his tongue with a sip of his boozy tea to chase away ghosts of things that never even were.

“I mean, sure, not going to say I never wanted that.  And I did have that stupid wedding notebook, by the way.  But all that became a pipe dream the minute we wound up here, right?  No use being upset about something that can never be.”

“That may be so, but the crux of it is… you also contented yourself with the idea of it never coming true not because we’re here, but because you didn’t think I wanted it,” Jon answered, his unspoken truth hanging heavy in the chill night air between them, “Every time you tried to tell me you wanted to be with me forever, I brushed it off and painted it gray and tucked it away and carried on the way we always were like nothing happened and it didn’t matter.  Because it was alright, really, you were just so happy to have what we have, that I didn’t die in your arms that night, that we were still together after everything.  That I at least kept that promise after I’d broken so many.  You were so grateful just for what you were gifted after we thought we would end with nothing you didn’t dare think to ask the universe for more and I am so, so sorry it took me so long to see that, Martin.  I’m so sorry.”

His voice broke.  The breath caught in Martin’s chest as he reached out to touch his wrist comfortingly.

“Jon, I-“

“No, please.  Please let me finish I… I can’t give you any of those things.  I can’t give you our friends back, I can’t give you cake and doves and the sunset and crying through vows in front of the vicar.  I can’t even give you an elopement at the register office because we still don’t legally exist.  And I guess for a long time I resented myself for that.  For all of it.  For stealing that from you, for dragging you through literal hell only to give you a shadow of a life stuck here with me because I betrayed you.  But- no stop, don’t say anything yet I’m not done.  B-But now I finally realize.  You’re right, Martin.  You were always right.  It doesn’t matter.  Those things are all just… things.  I said to you once, a long time ago, and I’m still not even sure if you really heard me, that I didn’t want to just survive.  It was true then, and maybe it wasn’t true for a while, but it’s certainly true again.  We did not fight tooth and nail to just survive.  We fought to live, and live together.  So what I’m saying is… I know now I don’t have to give you tuxedos and white roses as long as I give you something… Something to prove to you that you are my everything, my entire world, something to show you that I love you more than I have loved anything in my entire life.  That I want forever with you.  S-So I…” he trailed off, sucking in his breath to give his gesture of undying love the ardor and grandeur it deserved, “I bought us a star.”

The proclamation rang out like the toll of a bell, its gravity sonorous and quaking.  Martin blinked.

“You… I’m sorry?” he squeaked.

Jon set his empty thermos cup aside, flailed his hands in the air and shook his head frantically

“I-I know, I know it sounds mental just hear me out!” he protested, “Technically I didn’t buy the star, if we want to get picky about it.  I mean obviously no one can own a star.  Just the rights to name it?  It’s a thing you can do online.  I was a bit gobsmacked it was real to be honest.  I just had this silly idea when I was out looking at the stars.  I was looking at Lyra and thinking about you and Orpheus, and I… W-Well I just typed it in, ‘can you name a star?’ and it came right up.  Right then and there.  It um… comes with… hold on.”

Remembrance placed a gentle bookmark down on Jon’s fluttering thoughts, and he rummaged in the picnic basket for a moment before pulling out a navy-blue manila folder covered in stars and full of the paperwork and certificates that had come with registering theirs.  He handed it to Martin, who took it in place of his own empty cup, numb, muscles quivering under his jaw, and opened it to the glittering gold typeface that proclaimed ‘Congratulations!’.

“It comes with paperwork, too!  See?  So, it’s official, at least?  The Jon-Martin star.  Not a marriage license I know, but at least our names are together on something legal?  Our real names?  I figured even if we manage the fake identity thing we’d have to get married as not us.  Not really.  So…  I-It could be like our marriage certificate?” Jon explained, chewing his lower lip.

Martin said nothing as his hand turned the pages of the documentation, his eyes distant in a way Jon had never seen before.  Not disembodied and enthralled, not broken, not even regarding puzzle pieces.

“Oh!  Um, also I-I got us a binary star.  I forgot to mention that bit,” he went on, filling the sudden void, “It’s, ah- What a binary star is- It’s technically two?  But they’re caught up in each other’s gravity and they orbit each other so tightly they look like one star together, one that just shines a little brighter.  They’re bound together forever by the most powerful cosmic force in the universe.  Just like us.”

Only silence answered, punctuated by one last crisp whisper of paper, and then the folder closing with Martin’s spread fingers atop it, bloodstone gleaming in the vivid pale light of the night.  Jon’s heart pitched frantically in his chest, and desperate, stranded tears pricked at his eyes.

“I uh… I would have rather gotten us a whole constellation.  Heh, you know?  But they don’t do that, obviously,” he tried softly, his fingers barely brushing Martin’s knuckles, “They record heroes in constellations, after all.  Great deeds, doomed romances, lovers who can be together no other way… That would have been a better way to honor us, I think.  Our story.  A-And who knows?  Maybe back on our world there are a few new stars to remember what we did, to mark the place we left it, so that everyone we left behind can look up and remember us.  They don’t know how the story really ended, and they probably never will, but we do.  We do, and I want to end it right here, right now.  With our star shining above us ‘and they lived happily ever after.’”

Martin still said nothing, but his head bowed, casting a slice of shadow over his eyes, and his shoulders quivered as a thin, bright line of wet silver trickled down his cheek.  Jon felt the very sky shatter above and begin to crumble around him.

“Please… M-Make no mistake, Martin.  P-Perhaps the gesture is silly and meaningless, but it was all I could think to do to go with everything I’ve said tonight.  Martin… Martin, don’t you see?  These are my wedding vows to you.  This is me saying ‘I do’ and also ‘Martin K. Blackwood would you do me the honor of making me the happiest man in the universe?’  All at once.  This is me saying I swear to you I will be yours, through everything, until the end of time.  M-Maybe I wasn’t before.  Maybe I was still punishing myself, but I’m telling you, I’m ready now to have my happily ever after.  With you, Martin.  If you’ll have me.  If I haven’t-“

He would never finish.  In a dizzying blur of blue folder, flashing hematite, and a wreath of golden curls, Martin kissed the words off his lips.  He kissed him so hard and so fierce, through wracking sobs with his hands woven so raptly into his long, wavy locks he thought his lips would bruise and his fragile soul would finally shatter to pieces in Martin’s arms.  Undone, all Jon could do was surrender and kiss him back with equal passion, thumbing away the hot tears as they spilled freely down his cheeks and anointed them both with their cleansing, hoary heat.  Their lips parted and they panted softly against each other in the space between, each afraid to break the sacred, pulsing silence.

“You’re crying,” Jon whispered at length, “I’ve said something wrong. Martin, darling I’m so sorry.  I never meant to-”

Martin laughed, raspy with tears, but ethereal, sparkling, like stardust floating on the breeze.

“People are allowed to cry when they’re happy you stupid, silly man,” he murmured in between kissing him again, and again.

“Oh.  Oh.”

He kissed him one last time, that idiot man who always burnt the toast and always knew the facts but never knew what to say, who finally figured it out and bought him a star, and threw his arms around him, enveloping his slight, fragile form protectively in his embrace.

“I love you.  I love you so much.”

Jon sank into that warm, familiar comfort and buried his face in his shoulder.

“I love you, too, Martin.  I want to be yours for the rest of my life.  I want to be me, I want to be us.”

“I know.  I’ve always known.  Oh god, you do know that right?  I know that you love me, it’s written in everything you do and say.  I have never, ever once doubted you love me with everything you are.  Even in the moments I was afraid that… that maybe we just weren’t meant to be together, I still knew it wouldn’t be because you didn’t love me.  Never because you didn’t love me.  Just maybe that we didn’t fit together anymore,” Martin replied in a small voice through his tears as they spilled down his cheeks.

As much as he wanted to vehemently deny there was ever a chance they might have not fit back together again after they had both been so shattered, to kiss him and tell him not in a million years would there ever have been a future where they weren’t Jon and Martin against the world, Jon knew it to be inescapably true.

“I’m so sorry you ever had to be afraid of that,” he swore, digging his fingers into Martin’s back pointedly, “After everything.  After we fought so hard to escape fear itself.  That I almost let it truly win in the end.  That I couldn’t just let go… Because… Because this was never about The Eye, was it?”

A heave of breath and its shuddering exhale shook Martin’s body free of lifetimes of grief, and fear, of ugliness carried far beyond the borders of their souls.  His fingers curled tighter in unspoken reply.

“No Jon, no it wasn’t, but I’m so very glad you finally figured that out.”

“Me, too…” he whispered.

They held each other in the quiet wake of being a moment and let the astral plane wheel calmly overhead.  An impatient star twinkled.

“Wait… you never answered me,” Jon finally said as he pulled back, sliding his elegant fingers down Martin’s strong arms.

“Huh?” Martin blurted, scrubbing under his eyes with the sleeve of his coat.

“About marrying me tonight.  You never actually said yes, so…”

A twinkle in his eye and a slight mischief to his grin, Jon dove back into the picnic basket and emerged with a velvet ring box.  Martin’s hands flew to his mouth.

“You didn’t.”

“Of course I did!  Nothing fancy, but I thought it was high time to retire the blood rings,” he explained rising from his former perch on his hip to kneel properly.

The box cracked neatly open, and inside lay a simple, white gold band with a tiny circle of milky moonstone embedded in it on a midnight-blue satin cushion, blindingly bright against the dark.  Martin sobbed joyfully all over again.

“So, uh… I suppose if it had just been us, if we’d just been together, without everything, and we’d arrived at this moment.  I would have done much the same.  I would have brought you somewhere beautiful, somewhere I could teach you some inane fact you didn’t actually care about, but liked because it came from me.  Emulsifiers in ice cream and rum raisin…” they both snickered, “And I would have tried my best to make it into some sort of romantic metaphor but completely bunged it up and you would be laughing as I got down on one knee, just like this.  And it would have just been simple.  To the point.  Just… Will you marry me?  So…”

Jon assumed the traditional position, on one knee, arms outstretched, his every slender point a star in a perfect constellation of love.

“Will you marry me?”

Their eyes met, across a thousand different realities, across a thousand different worlds, carried on celestial winds to fall hopelessly, inexorably, into each other’s orbit.

“Yes, yes I do believe I will.”

With one last farewell kiss upon it for what it had meant for them both, Jon slipped the bloodstone ring from Martin’s finger and replaced it with the delicate band made of starlight.  It took its place radiantly, and shone as Martin drew his hand back to admire it with an equally radiant grin before it dimmed with concern.

“But what about you?” he asked worriedly as he watched the old ring entombed lovingly in the box.

Jon only smirked and produced a second box from the basket, which he offered on his open palm out to Martin.

“Naturally, I got one for myself.  Couldn’t pass up a chance to get a wedding ring that actually fits, could I?  It’s just… Don’t you think you deserve to give it to me the way you would want?” he urged.

Martin took the box eagerly, biting his lower lip in thought.

“Not sure you want to give me that freedom.  I had about five different ways of asking you in my head and all of them you would have hated so, so much.  But I’d be lying if I said that wasn’t kind of the point,” he answered wryly.

Jon chortled.

“Sorry I, the unromantic one, sprung this on you, the romantic one.  But I did want to surprise you.  I-I mean you can still write me a vows poem later?  If you want to, of course.  I’d love to have it, even if I don’t actually get to hear it at our wedding.”

Martin’s face flushed immediate crimson and his eyes darted coyly away as he toyed with the wedding band box in his lap.

“Oh that?  A-Actually I… I have it memorized, i-if you really wanted to hear it.”

“You- WHAT?” gasped Jon, his cheeks flushing in tandem.

“Oh yeah, I wrote my vows poem for you ages ago and I’ve gone over it so many times I know it by heart.  It was comforting, okay?  I-I’d read it again when times were good and I thought maybe you’d actually- um… a-and when times were not so good, when you were gone, in your own head, when I was afraid we were broken for good, whenever I needed it.  I’ve read it over a thousand times and never changed a thing from the first time I penned it.  Never needed to.  I’m surprised I haven’t recited it in my sleep at this point,” Martin admitted sheepishly.

Jon’s entire body flushed with a solar heat that melted his joints and his heart into a swirling flare of adulation.

“I can think of no better way, then, to receive my ring,” he breathed, reaching out to cup Martin’s cheek in his hand, “I’ve had my turn, now it’s yours.”

In mirror ballets of love exchanges, Martin cradled Jon’s hand against his cheek as he spoke the first lines of the vows etched ever on his being softly into his palm.

“Let he who, shadow dwelling, must In paper, pen, and book be bound Shake off the chains of dark and rust And chart his own bright fate unfound.

Let he with lifelong burdens borne Cut paper wings with thread of gold And hand in hand, the sky forsworn Flit clouds and sun in laughter bold.

Let he whose blood and soldier’s ken The world did shield from dark and fear Heal fast those wounds, be whole again And sleep at last, held close and dear.

Bring him to me with spirit free With stars in eyes and music sung From lips a joyful promise be One soul conjoined, one fate’s thread strung.

Two hearts rejoice in love renowned. We lift our heads, alive, uncrowned.”

He waited until the last couplet to pull the ring from the box and slide it onto Jon’s finger where it too, fit perfectly, like it had always been there, and shone defiantly bright in the moonlight.  Jon wept.  He had been weeping since the first words of verse left his beloved’s lips, but seeing that ring like a piece of his missing soul returned to him undammed the tears effusively.

“God that was… Martin, I don’t have words.  I-It was… so beautiful.  You’re so beautiful.  Thank you,” he cried fervently, “I wish I could tell you properly how much that meant, but I just-“

“Hey… That’s alright.  I’m the words guy.  You’re the emulsifiers guy.  Making you cry is all I need to see to know how you feel,” Martin assured him warmly, reaching out to brush his tears away as he chuckled.

“Yeah… add this one to the running tally.”

“Oh, I have,” Martin snickered, “Speaking of!  Now we’ve done the crying through vows bit.  Shouldn’t we say the ‘I do’ bit, as well?”

Jon pursed his lips with a shrug as he reached out with his left hand to take Martin’s left as well, twining their fingers together

“Yes, I suppose we should.  I don’t see why not.  Well then, Martin, do you?”

“I do.  And Jon, do you?”

“I do.”

“You may now soundly snog the groom.”

“Martin…”

The emphatic drawl of his name the way Jon only called it when he was frustratingly enamored of him perished gently against Martin’s velvet lips as they caressed his.  They kissed slowly and reverently, sealing a pact ordained by the heavens long before either of them had seen the stars in the other’s eyes, lighting with white flame the torch to guide them for the first time, forward.  They broke it only to punctuate it with two more featherlight kisses and a breathless laugh, bowing their foreheads together in deference to the forces of fate and the universe.

“I know this isn’t the wedding either of us ever dreamed of, but as far as I’m concerned, it was perfect,” Jon murmured, nuzzling closer into his husband, swaddling the new, fledgling and beautiful word in his heart.

“Well, hey, what is a wedding really other than just a formal declaration that this is it?  This is us, we’re forever, no matter what.  We did it.  And you did it for me, in the STARS, Jon… Can we just remember that again?  You put us in the actual stars.  I am so writing a ballad for our constellation later, you do know this.”

“Oh lord.  Of course you are.  But really, it was the least I could do, after you’ve done so much for me, sacrificed everything for me.  Waited for me for so long.”

“And you came back to me,” Martin reminded him passionately, “And I don’t just mean back to life, here, in this world.  I mean you came back, Jon, MY Jon, the Jon I was in love with the moment I laid eyes on him.  The fidgety and obstinate Jon who can’t make a decent cup of tea to save his life, who puts on two different socks in the morning because his nose is already in the paper or a book, who teaches me about bleeding rocks and binary stars and still reacts to the simplest acts of kindness like a warm cranberry orange scone without asking for one like they’re divine miracles he is undeserving of, who looks at me like I hung the moon or something every time.  Even when I thought I was a complete and total waste of a human being, you, Jonathan Sims, the most beautiful, amazing, brilliant man to ever walk the Earth, looked at me like I hung the moon.  And that was… Still is… everything to me.”

The heavens shifted, the stars wheeled, the last piece clicked smartly, smugly into place.

“W-What did you say…?” Jon asked with such urgency, grabbing his hands so fiercely, Martin startled.

“Wh-I-I don’t-?  Which part?  The moon hanging part?” he stuttered, rolling his eyes fondly as he realized mid-sentence, “Oh, right.  Ugh, Jon are you seriously going to get after me about your weird vendetta against idioms at our wedding?  Because if you are that would be annoyingly adorable and so intensely you and kind of perfect, but also can you not on THIS particular occasion?”

The laugh that tore from Jon’s throat was half mad, half euphoric as the weight of the moon lifted from his shoulders and became naught but an indifferent sentinel disc in the sky once more.

“No no no, it’s just… It’s funny, I had more than a few things very, very wrong for a very, very long time.  That’s all.  Don’t worry about it,” he explained, leaning in and pressing a delicate kiss to Martin’s forehead, “If you’re the one who hung the moon after all, then I suppose ‘written in the stars’ will have to do for me.”

Martin lit up with literary glee.

“Oh ho!  Two space related idioms in one go?  What a rare treat!  Maybe this is your gateway drug into puns…” he teased impishly.

“Absolutely no chance in hell.”

They both laughed, laughed with the billowing icy breath that reached with victorious fingers up to the heavens.  They laughed, messily sniffing back the pesky drip of tears and cold.  They laughed with lightness of the encumbrance of hematite armor shed, its bloody protections no longer needed to cage wounded hearts and keep them safe and close.  They laughed in breath and also in the dancing points of light in their eyes as they fell into one another free from gravity.

“So uh… Do I get to see my star tonight, or don’t I?” Martin finally remembered, relishing the utterly horrified yelp from Jon.

“Oh god I completely-!  Y-Yes!  Yes of course, it’s already set up at the proper coordinates!” he had already sprung to his feet, “Oh, though, hang on, it took longer to get to the star viewing part than I anticipated, so I might need to adjust it a bit.  Oh!  And I have a little strawberries and champagne, if you like?”

“I do like, please and thank you!”

Jon set to readjusting the telescope to the proper ascension and declination while Martin poured them two glasses of crisply bubbling champagne.  They twined their arms to drink a toast from each other’s glass, ‘to us’ or ‘to happily ever afters’, or to several other messily rambled toast worthy sentiments.  They couldn’t decide and toasted to all of it.  They ate plump red strawberries and licked the juice from each other’s fingers as they looked at their star, which was, after everything, just a dot, just like Pluto, but Martin had to admit that he rather liked looking at dots after all.  And that one was their dot.  The warm intoxication of love and champagne begged for music, and someone fumbled in the cold for a wedding playlist on some app, somewhere, it didn’t matter, just as long as they could join hands, gaze into each other’s eyes and dance inelegantly, stepping on each other’s toes, under the umbrella of stars in a gentle rain of moonlight.

“I don’t see your problem with cliches, idioms and all that, really…” Martin mused at length, laying his head on Jon’s shoulder as they slowly spun to the rhythm of a longing ballad and the song of the sea, “Like this stupid, great song.  They’re familiar and cozy and everyone knows them.  They’re like… like old friends.  Always there to rely on when we can’t come up with the words ourselves, because sometimes we can’t.  And if something trite and silly sums up the way you feel, why not just let it be?  Sometimes things are said over and over again because some truths are universal, you know?  They’re just… human.”

Jon pressed a kiss into the mop of curls that tickled his nose and smelled faintly of toasted sugar and lavender and mused on all of the romantic cliches that had just passed through his mind unbidden.  Who was he to deny he was but one star in the sky, a single gear in the grand mortal mechanism of the universe.  If he had handed himself over to the humanity of it all instead of rusting, stopping, looking outside where there was never anything to see, perhaps he could have had this dance much sooner.  It didn’t matter though, until it did, because that night Martin took his breath away, made his world go round, he was head over heels for his match made in heaven, and better than heaven, they were written in the stars.

“You know what, Martin?” Jon laughed in reply, “Tonight, being what it is, I am willing to concede.  You are absolutely right.”

“I’m glad…” came the tender acceptance, followed by a distinctly puckish beat of silence, “Then does this mean I can I start saying love you to the moon and back?”

“Don’t push your luck...”

[hayleyb100]

Light My Way, Part 8

Part 1 - Part 2 - Part 3 - Part 4 - Part 5 - Part 6 - Part 7 - Part 8 - Part 9 - Part 10 - Part 11 the end

⚠️ WARNING! ⚠️   -It is a twisted story of Pokemon Sun and Moon, and a crossover of Pokemon SM and SWSH. -It features Hau and Kabu as the main characters. -Extremely angsty. -Everything is headcanon. -It isn’t spoiler-free.

"There. I'm glad I was able to help while researching out in the Wild Area."

Hop smiled at Hau after bandaging him, but he still looked nervous.

"You should be more careful with the pokemons of the Wild Area. Your Appletun and Alcremie sure seem tough, but some of the wild pokemons are quite fierce."

"......."

Hop was curious about why the boy was so nervous. But he knew it would make it worse if he asks bluntly, so he decided to unravel bit by bit.

"Hey, umm, I didn't catch your name..."

"It's Hau..."

"Cute name!" Hop smiled.

"Umm, so what are you training for? Are you going to take on the Gym Challenge in a few years?"

"........" Hau shook his head.

"But you seem very burdened with stacking the power... Do you have some pressure in your mind?"

"........" Hau looked at Hop and frowned a little, as Hop seemed like perceiving him. But at the same time, he needed someone to open up his pain since he cannot rely on Kabu anymore. Plus, Hop's gentle smile gave him the extra relief and courage to speak.

"I need to be strong..." Hau whimpered.

"So that I am cut to become the next Gym Leader... I'm sorry I lied earlier, but you're right. Mr. Kabu is fostering me... And everyone says I should be his successor. It sure pressures me, but... I, I don't want to part away from him. He was so nice to me... I... I tried to go against fate and it destroyed my family. So I won't let it happen this time..."

Hop felt as if his heart was smacked down with a sledgehammer because it rang a bell of his torturous past. Hop, too, didn't know what he wanted with his life too. He vaguely pursued Lee's steps to become Champion because everyone along with his family praised his brother, never knowing whether if it is a dream that suits him or not. It was difficult for Hop to dream of something else when everyone ever talked about at home is Leon. 

And when that dim light was blown out with Bede's harsh remarks and Leon's stepping down from Champion, Hop felt as if he is lost in a desert without water. Only after going through the adventures and saving the legendary hero, Hop realized what he truly wanted in his life, and it is okay to walk a different path from Leon. And only then Hop was able to truly take Leon as a 'brother', not 'an idol'. What pained Hop more is that Hau is much younger than him and is NOT supposed to worry about such a thing. He should be out in the garden playing with his pokemons without a worry in the world, instead of agonizing over his future.

Hop inhaled and processed his thoughts.

"Hau, I know I am not in the position to say such a thing, but..."

Hop cleared his throat, as he is about to convey something heavy.

"Hau, look up to the sky!"

Hau followed his instruction, wondering what is he trying to say.

"See the stars? They may look the same here, but they say every single one of them is different."

Hop grinned at Hau again.

"What about pokemons? Have you ever seen pokemons that are EXACTLY the same? I mean, they might look the same in appearance, but even the pokemons of the same species are different. My Dubwool here can't be a carbon-copy to that Dubwool out in the Wild Area."

Hau stared at Hop asking what his point is.

"Oh, umm, so the point is, it goes the same with people! Just like you and I are different, you can't be the same with Mr. Kabu, right? And... It is okay to be different! See? Stars are all different, but they are dazzling and beautiful in their own way!"

Hop inhaled again before continuing.

"...You see, my brother was a Champion of the region, and I thought it was obvious for me to follow his path. But after a long journey, I realized it isn't. Everyone is different and can have various dreams in life. And that's okay! So just because Mr. Kabu is a Gym Leader, it doesn't mean you must be the one as well! Doesn't matter what others say, you are Hau. You can look for the path YOU want to follow. No one can change it and don't let them change it. Everyone goes through a distinctive experience that makes who they are. There's nothing wrong with it."

Hau looked at Hop with round eyes. No one ever spoke to Hau that way. No one ever said it is okay to have a dream of his own. It was mind-blowing to the point it didn't feel real. Finally, someone accepted the fact that Hau is an 'individual'.

"Considering Mr. Kabu, I'm sure he doesn't want you to be pressured either, Hau. He is a wise person who cares for others well. I'm sure he would be heartbroken to see you pushing him away like this... You see, I always thought I would not be able to talk to my brother as a family unless I step up the game, but it wasn't the case at all. When I honestly asked him if he would hate me, he denied it and said it's okay to follow the alternative future from him. Only after we dropped the titles and what other people think of us, we were back to being brothers again."

Hau's eyes instantly became dewy. Every word from Hop relieved him so much that he felt safe. It was great to have someone reassure Hau that he doesn't have to mimic someone's life and love Mr. Kabu even if he isn't a Gym Leader.

"Sorry for all the babble though! I... went through something similar, so I didn't want you to go through the same."

"No, thank you so much. I appreciate it..." Hau smiled at Hop, and Hop smiled back too.

"Shall we go back home now? Mr. Kabu would be worried sick."

"Hau!!" Kabu instantly ran to the little boy and cuddled him close. His face was red and his eyes were puffy from crying too much. That was enough sign for Hau to see how much Kabu cares for him. Hau nuzzled back to Kabu with teary eyes. The Fire Gym Leader felt as if his heart is torn apart when he saw bandages on Hau.

"He'll be alright. All of it seems like flesh wounds, so it would heal after a while. I am glad I was able to help." Hop calmed Kabu down, but it wasn't enough for him.

Hop explained what was going through Hau's mind on his permission, and it weighed heavily on Kabu. He didn't know that a simple sentence from someone could trigger the trauma of his boy so easily. It warned the foster parent to look into his child better.

"I cannot appreciate enough, Hop."

Kabu thanked yet again.

"Oh, no! Please, it was nothing, really. I was glad that I helped!" Hop beamed from ear to ear. Hop chose the dream of becoming a Professor to help others, and it felt awesome to already be of help.

"Now, Hau. Shall we say thank you to Hop? He was a hero of the day." Kabu asked, and Hau nodded. He went to Hop, hugged him, and appreciated with a bright face.

"Thank you for saving me, Big Brother Hop!"

"A... Aw, shucks! No problem at all, Hau." Hop blushed in all shade of red. As the youngest of the family, he never was addressed as a big bro, and now he was. It made Hop feel like a proud young man.

______________________________________

As Kabu and Hau headed back home after promising Hop, Milo, and Nessa to see them again, it was close to midnight. Kabu got himself together and prepared Hau for bed. Before they fell asleep, Kabu gave another big hug to Hau and spoke in a subdued voice.

"Hau. I don't need you to be anyone for me. I just want you to BE with me. Do you understand? So from now on, please don't push yourself. Tell me anything in your mind."

Hau's heart warmed up like never before. Not even his blood-related family gave such relief in his life before. He nuzzled into Kabu. The child and his caretaker fell asleep almost simultaneously, as it was a long day for both.

[chaoticowlpost]

When The Sun Goes Down

The sunset was beautiful, and Harry wanted to savor every detail of the moment.

He wanted to remember clearly the way Draco laughed, shoving him lightly towards the waves before running away, the way he glowed under the light of the setting sun, and how, in this moment, it felt as if there was no problem in the world that could get to them.

“What are you thinking of?” Draco asked him, slowing down so he could walk alongside Harry. He was still smiling, albeit not as wide as he was before. Either way, there was still genuine happiness on his face.

“Nothing,” Harry answered, not wanting to ruin the moment. “This is just nice.”

“It is,” Draco nodded before looking straight ahead. “We should do this more.”

Something inside Harry clenched. He smiled almost painfully.

“We should,” Harry agreed. “Such a shame that the rest couldn’t join us.”

“Oh please,” Draco snorted. “You know they stayed back on purpose. Probably off on their own, shagging since we’re not there anymore.”

Harry laughed before rolling his eyes. “I’d rather not think about Ron and Hermione shagging, thanks.”

“Gross,” Draco muttered under his breath, shuddering dramatically. “All those freckles.”

He felt that maybe he should defend his best mate but frankly, he agreed. It was not a sight he wanted to bear witness to, no matter how much he was into blokes and arses.

They both decided that they’ve had enough of walking and sat down right where the shoreline ended, dropping their shoes beside them. Harry dug his feet into the sand, enjoying the feel of small grains slipping through his toes. 

“If you could do anything right now, what would it be?” Harry asked the man beside him.

“That was awfully random,” Draco commented before furrowing his eyebrows thoughtfully. “Right now, within reality?”

“Just anything,” Harry prompted.

“I’d probably travel far around the world,” Draco answered, eyes trained on the sunset. “Might be nice. A little freeing, I’ve heard.”

Harry agreed with the sentiment. “I think travelling would be fun,” he said. “Being a stranger for once in a different place with no expectations.”

“Maybe we should run away,” Draco said, and Harry was unsure as to whether or not he was being serious, but he smiled. It sounded like a brilliant idea.

“We still have to get on that train tomorrow,” Harry reminded him, an eyebrow raised.

“Don’t remind me,” Draco groaned, throwing his head back. Harry felt his throat dry at the exposure of his bare, pale neck and forced himself to look away. “I think I’ve forgotten how to write already.”

“The school year won’t be that bad,” Harry grinned, nudging the blond lightly. “You have me and the others, after all.”

“Oh, dear Merlin, save us all,” Draco muttered sarcastically, earning a light thwack on the shoulder from Harry. “I’m kidding! You’re right, I guess.”

“Of course I am,” Harry gloated, this time earning himself a light punch. “But hey, when we graduate, why don’t we travel the world, yeah?”

“Is that a promise?” Draco asked, his eyebrow rising up is forehead. Perhaps it wasn’t wise to make promises he wasn’t completely sure of but in that moment, it felt like the right thing to do.

“Of course,” Harry smirked lazily. “Anywhere you want to go.” Draco gave him a noncommittal hum before playing with the sand between his fingers, shifting the particles that Harry’s own hand rested on. 

“So,” Draco said after a few seconds of silence, both of them just enjoying the other’s presence. “What would you do”?

“What?” Harry asked distractedly.

“Answer your own question,” Draco said with a small huff.

“Oh,” Harry said, multiple scenarios running through his head. There were many things he wanted to do, and one of them included kissing Draco in that very moment. 

It was the only thing he could think of that would make the moment perfect.

“I don’t know,”‘ Harry lied with a shrug. “Quidditch?”

“Seriously?” Draco laughed. “You’re on your house’s team.”

“Dunno,” Harry shrugged again, this time trying to think of a better answer. “Wipe my traumatic date with Cho from my memories? Learn a new language? Why don’t you give me something to do?”

“That’s not how this works,” Draco rolled his eyes, another grin slowly sliding onto his face. “And learn a language? You should have just asked. I could teach you one day.”

One day.

His own promise.

“I’ll hold you to that,” Harry said with his own answering smile. They looked back towards the sky and watched as the last of the sunlight faded into dull colors, reminiscing their moments from the past year together.

The way Draco and Hermione poured over books together and teamed up to help Harry and Ron keep up with their academics. Draco and Ron’s battle of wits in both chess and childish comebacks. His and Harry’s scheming to get around the castle without the teachers knowing.

It was just a shame that it won’t be happening again - not this year.

“The light is gone,” Draco murmured, and Harry’s heart fell. They both knew what that meant.

“You were right,” Harry said, suddenly straightening himself where he sat. “We should run away.” He purposely left out the words together, not wanting to give himself any illusion of the two of them.

“You know we can’t, Harry,” Draco smiled at him sadly. “They’re expecting me to be there by dark. He doesn’t like to wait, despite the fact that it’s all still happening at midnight.”

“I know,” Harry sighed, already hating the plan. Somewhere deep inside, he regretted befriending Draco Malfoy. It meant that becoming a part of their plan and, as he continued to do so, Harry got more attached.

And now that it was time for him to go, it hurt.

“Then don’t get the mark,” Harry suggested. “It’s a horrible idea anyway. Surely they could find another solution.”

“I made a promise, Harry,” Draco said, his eyes now focused on the sand beneath them. “I want to help you.”

Help you.

He didn’t say the Order, not the Wizarding community of the UK.

You.

“Draco,” Harry breathed. He knew that there was nothing he could do to change his mind; they argued about it before. “Be safe, alright?”

“You too,” Draco smiled, just slightly more happy than before. “Remember your promise.”

Harry’s chest hurt; he felt like he was suffocating.

“Sure, but only if you remember yours,” Harry retorted, earning a feeble chuckle from his friend.

“I will,” Draco promised.

Harry clung onto the idea that they would both make it out alive, because they had promises to keep, and he would push himself until the war was done and do everything in his power to keep it.

“See you on the other side of the war,” Draco said, pulling himself up. He extended an arm towards Harry to help him stand. Harry accepted it gratefully and stood, just inches away from the man he’d fallen for. “Don’t be a stranger.”

Harry let out a noise between a strangled laugh and a choked sob. They both knew that they’d have to limit their interactions once classes started because he had a cover to keep.

“Draco...” 

Can I kiss you?

The words refused to come out of his mouth.

The blond didn’t completely interpret what he meant, but he leaned closer, only to wrap his arms around Harry who practically had to force himself to return the hug, wrapping his arms around his waist.

Once he took hold of the boy in his arms, he held on tighter, unwilling to let go.

“Take care, yeah?” Draco murmured into his ear, his chin resting on Harry’s shoulder.

“Watch over yourself,” Harry said after responding with his own nod. He felt Draco incline his head briefly in agreement. They stayed like that for a few more seconds, both refusing to step away first.

“Harry,” Draco whispered, sounding crestfallen. “I have to go. The light is gone.”

True to his words, the moon already beginning to appear in the sky despite what little remained of the sun’s light. Taking a deep breath, Harry stepped pulled, seeing that Draco wouldn’t be the one to take the first step.

“Goodbye, Harry,” Draco smiled sadly. “I’ll see you soon.”

Harry nodded mutely, not sure if he could speak without his voice trembling. He watched the other boy bring out his portkey, disappearing from the place he stood.

“I love you, Draco,” Harry whispered, his words getting carried away by the wind. He could only hope that those words would eventually arrive to Draco’s ears, although it was unlikely.

Forcing himself to straighten up, he steeled his mind towards defeating Voldemort and what challenges lie ahead in the following school year.

He had a promise to keep.

-————————————————-

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[blackjewles]

Love and midnight walks

Just a drabble of the thoughts of Kaminari ans Shinsou while they share a special moment.

Cw: no warnings apply

summary: Shinsou and Kaminari meet up late at night by chance, during a wordless walk they both consistently think about how much they like eachother. Kaminari wants to confess but can’t bring himself too, but, he confessed that he cares about him. And somehow, Shinsou too confesses that he cares. And for now, that’s better than anything they’ve ever experienced with eachother before .

—-

7:21, about an hour after the sun retired is position for the night, instead, being replaced with the moon. It was a clear night, the starry light lit up the paths just enough for any night wanders who dare leave their dorm for fresh air. The risk of being caught sneaking out at UA was expediential. Nobody dared challenged the rules, not even Katsuki Bakugou, who to some was known for living at his own pace.

However, two opposite boys found the night comforting, and dared challenge the ruthless punishments that would await them if caught.

Those two boys where Shinsou Hitoshi and Denki Kaminari. They where total opposites, mot only in aesthetics departments, but personality wise too.

However, as the age old saying goes, opposites attract.

After relentless determination from Kaminari, he managed to break down the purple headed boys wall of intorvertness and wedge himself into Shinsou’s life. Admittedly, Shinsou was scared at first, his whole life people had never liked him. Sure, he’d had his fair share of “friends” but most of those where just classmates who didn’t hate him for his quirk. But for the first time in his life, Shinsou had a real friend. And to his demise, he’d discovered that his feelings extended a lot more than just friendly ones. Which was the most terrifying but wonderful experience in the world. Being a stoic being with all these sudden nervous feelings was overwhelming, but in a way, exciting.

Kaminari had many friends, he was an outgoing and friendly guy. Everyone found company in his jokes. Each day he walked in and brightened the classroom with his laughs and smiles. Though Kaminari was nice to almost everyone, he found special interest in Shinsou. He’d stare for just a little bit longer, he’d think about his small and deep giggles late at night, and he’d imagine what it be like to date him. Kaminari knew what was happening to him, he knew quite well. He’d had many crushes before, and he knew now that he had fallen into a hole of uncontrollable emotions that yearned for the lilac headed boy. He was screwed, but he let it happen, deep down he believed each crush he had was fate. Weather it turned into somthing or not, he let these teenage feelings happen.

And so, two similarities they shared. They where both screwed, and in love.

But they shared another similarity: Insomnia.

Kaminari is quite literally a ball of energy, and with so much electricity building up inside him all the time, a full nights sleep was a rare thing.

Shinsou on the other hand had insomnia since he was in middle school, and so, a full nights sleep was also rare.

So what happenes when you combine two insomniac boys in love?

Way. Too. Many. Feelings.

—-

Rhythmic tapping of their own footsteps was all that was heard from both boys point of views. Neither bothered with music, the sounds of the night was comforting to both of them. Plus, if you’re not aware of your surroundings while on a late night walk, you can get in big trouble. Not only with teachers, but with villans too.

Shinsou liked to stare at his feet, while Kaminari stared into the sky. But they both kept listening to every sound around them. The owls, the wind, and most importantly, anyone else’s footsteps. So when Shinsou picked up on footsteps that wernt his own, he stopped directly in his tracks and immediately looked up.

Adrenaline pumped through his veins, getting caught outside at night is a death wish. But luckily, the figure that emerged form the darkness was not a teacher, but rather a boy. One that Shinsou thought about way too much.

“Shinsou?” The blond said gently. Shinsou had heard Kaminari call his name many times before, but this was different. He was calm, almost like the blurriness of a dream was coating his voice.

“Kaminari?” Shinsou called back. Kaminari took in a very slow breath, slowly tapping out of a meditative state he had been in. The nights always dark, but the moon lit up Shinsous face just enough to show his bewildered expression that was somehow, extremely beautiful. The blond made sure to ingrave this image of Shinsou in the moonlight into his mind. He didn’t wanna ever let it go.

“What are you doing out here?” Shinsou then asked, approaching Kaminari.

“I could ask you the same” Kaminari replied with a grin. Both boys let out small laughs.

Shinsou pondered his next move carefully, walking with someone could get him caught easier, but, it could also provide more protection. And, admittedly, he wanted to be with Kaminari.

“Do you... wanna walk with me?” Shinsou then asked Kaminari. Kaminari looked up, and smiled softly.

“Yeah, I would.” He replied. Kaminari then turned around and signaled Shinsou to follow.

Both boys where nervous, and for reasons beyond their adolescent understanding. But they both knew that being alone with eachother made them exponentially nervous.

Walking down the path little words where exchanged, their breathing and footsteps where the only sounds heard. Shinsou had never seen this side of Kaminari before, he was calm and a different type of beautiful.

Kaminari was only barley visible through Shinsous perifrial, but because his hair being up so high, looking over at him periodically wasn’t all that hard.

He studied every feature of the blond hard. Taking notes of every single detail. The way his cheekbones where illuminated by the dim light, his yellow eyes watching the sky with such concentration, the way his lips where placed on his face with such godly persision. Shinsou wanted to look at him forever, his heart thumped consideredly harder while being alone with him. The feeling was almost like the electricity the boy beside him held was flowing through him even though they weren’t touching. He was utterly entranced, experiencing a kind of romantic admiration that provided no real thoughts. No words came to mind, it was a hazey fog of whispers that yearned for the boy beside him. Shinsou did know one thing though, in that moment, he wanted nothing more than to kiss the boy beside him.

Kaminari, on the other hand, was trying extremely hard NOT to stare. His mind raced with thoughts he couldn’t control, so he focused on the stars that dotted the sky instead. But alas, the thoughts wouldn’t stop. It was a battle with his mind to not think about how much he’d like to take Shinsous hand and confess right there right now. But not making expressions mirroring his thoughts was even harder. There was a tornado of anxiety flowing through him, swiviling inside his chest. He took a deep breath, and looked to his left. Then, he locked eyes with Shinsou.

Shinsou looked away quickly, desperately fighting off any flustered expression that was clawing at his nerves and trying to show itself.

Kaminari on the other hand was hit with a rather sudden thought.

He was looking at me

Kaminari just about ran off then and there. Being alone with Shinsou and suddenly locking eyes like that was, well, very exciting. So exciting he could run laps. Kaminari knew he was overthinking things, but he let himself feel foolish for a while. He locked eyes with the stars again and mentally told them how he felt, and how he needed guidance for what to do in this precarious situation. He had to do something, say something. He begged the sky to tell him.

“Confess” He thought. He’d been thinking that way to much tonight. But He couldn’t, he’d ruin everything he’d built up with Shinsou, telling him he was in love with him would surely scare him away! But he wanted to tell him. So bad. He wanted to finally tell him how he felt and stop this crush. He thought of his feelings like a flame with opposite mechanics. Usually, when you put a flame under pressure it’ll go out. But with love, when you put the flame under pressure (aka bottle it up) it only wants to escape more. Right now, that flame of Kaminaris was enlarging, and dangerously close to escaping.

Shinsou on the other hand was drowning in a goey pit of embarrassment. Overthinking every moment with Kaminari was a habit at his, and he *knew* that this would come back and haunt him late at night. He felt foolish to have let Kaminari catch him staring, he was making it obvious wasn’t he? Shinsou wanted to run away from this entire situation. If it was up to him, he would’ve ran off the minute he saw anyone late at night. But of course, Shinsou just had to ask Kaminari to walk with him. He was starting to regret this decision.

“Hey Shinsou...” Kaminari suddenly said. Shinsou looked back up at him, mentally preparing for Kaminari to call him out for staring.

However, what followed was much more unexpected.

“Do you... Like anyone? Like have a crush on them?” Kaminari asked. Shinsou inhaled quickly, and looked away. Shit, what was he supposed to say?

Kaminaris heart raced way to fast. Part of him wanted Shinsou to say “nobody” or name sombody, that way he wouldn’t have to worry anymore. Sure, it would hurt, but this pining was beginning to get to much. Sure, hed be estatic if Shinsou said his name, or said he liked him, but he knew it wouldn’t happen. Shinsou was out of his league, it was impossible for him to like him back. Right?

“I... I dont know.” Shinsou replied. Stupid, you can do better than that! Shinsou thought.

Kaminari simply said “Oh.” and looked back forward. It wasn’t any of the answers he wanted, this way he couldn’t decifer if Shinsou liked anyone.

They kept walking silently, feeling the burden of their words weighing on their shoulders. Burdens they self created.

After torturous minutes of silence, the 1-A dorm finally came into view.

“I should probably go to bed now... huh...” Kaminari said, but he knew somthing was bothering him. He didn’t want to leave, not yet, he need something more.

“Goodnight.” Shinsou said solemnly, looking down at his shoes. Their walk had ended, and frankly, Shinsou didn’t think there was anything else to say. They’d see eachother tommorow and Kaminari would be back to his happy go lucky self and they wouldn’t have to be alone anymore.

Kaminari on the other hand, wasn’t done yet. He didn’t want to confess, not yet, but he could say somthing.

“Shinsou.”

Shinsou looked up and Kaminari smiled brightly at him.

“I want you to know that I...” Kaminari took ina. deep breath. “I care about you, so take care of yourself alright? You get some sleep too, you always look better when you show your body some love.”

“Insomnia doesn’t exactly let me do that, you know.” Shinsou replied. It was miraculous that he could even speak in that moment, Kaminari had just admitted to caring about him. Of all people, Denki Kaminari cared about him.

“I know, but try for me, okay?” Kaminari said softly, his smile falling into one much softer and his eyes sparkling with admiration and compassion.

Shinsou just about melted right then and there. Somehow though, he smiled back.

“I care about you too, Kaminari”

And with that, both boys said goodnight and went back to their dorms. Shinsou had to walk back to the class 1-C dorm, but they shared one thing for the rest of the night. They thought about what had just been said with stupid grins and rosey cheeks for as long as they could.

Caring isn’t the same as love or like, they both knew that, but neither could help but freak out and replay it over and over.

They where just two idiot insomniacs in love, and no matter how terrifying the feelings where, it was the most rewarding thing to finally hear the other say that they cared.

—- end

(YAY!! This took like a week because of procrastination,,, and i used a lot of conjunctions to start sentences... If that bothers you, i am sorry. but ANYWAYS, i REALLY hope you enjoyed reading this as much as i loved writing it. THANK YOU FOR READING!!)

[marydublinauthor]

Merry Christmas and happy Holidays from my co-author @smol-smoggie and I! Here’s a festive except from our revision of “Valour and Blood”, soon to be dubbed just “Valour” :)

(Warning for ideologically senstive material, human enslavement, human incapcitation)

———————

Every year in the first week of autumn, anyone living in Kier could see the sprawling Aarlith territory turn ablaze with pinpricks of light. Every massive window was aglow with firelight until dawn. No place shone brighter than Phillip's stone fortress, with its dozens of colored glass windows sparkling like jewels. She would sit on the roof with Roman with a bottle of ale to watch the distant spectacle of the Aarlith palace-- one of the few times she had admired the giant kingdom. It was a harmless celebration, apart from the few drunk Juren that would wander too close to the border and frighten the grazing cattle.

Now, living among them, the celebration was so much more dazzling.

Evander explained in the approaching days that the Midnight Jubilee was a celebration of the moon's gift of light in the darkness. To ease the moon goddess' nightly burden, they filled darkness with light, turning the evening bright as day for a few glorious hours. It was so much more than she'd expected-- the care that everyone seemed to place on this day.

From early hours in the morning, Grey watched the excitement in the castle bloom. Even the most surly of castle staff seemed to walk light as air, their beautiful faces filled with light. Servants toiled cheerily to hang candles from the ceiling, each in a small glass jar of a different color. Lanterns were strung from every tree surrounding the courtyard, casting warmth on the foliage as the sun sank lower and lower. Grey's mouth watered at the tantalizing smells that slowly but surely filled every room in the castle.

Paramount of all the celebrations to be observed this day was the feast at nightfall. Having been fasting and making preparations all day, the Jürens’ anticipation was entirely palpable. There was no grander, larger, finer feast than this in the whole calendar -- even Phillip’s coronation ball paled in comparison, he had freely admitted to her. Grey, too, could not help but look forward to the evening ahead; though not without a good deal of trepidation.

She watched from the window as the fledgling dragons soared and gambolled in the air, silhouetted against the dusky sky. From their necks glimmered chains of precious stones. Their flames, like the candles, were to feature in the grand display, refracted dozens of times by the jewels.

The Jüren, to a man, had dressed each in their finest. Servants swept through the halls in silken gowns with silver threads, beaded circlets cresting their heads. Grey, too, had been given her lot. It was a velvet dress dripping with infinitesimal stars, cinched at the waist with a fine belt, upon which hung -- to her initial enthusiasm -- a ceremonial sword. Closer inspection, however, showed her it was made not of steel and iron, but of blown glass.

The insults never ceased. In such a ridiculous costume, she was little more than a polished toy.

Still, she found herself unwittingly grateful as she was herded together with the other five humans kept captive. The two other women-- sisters-- were clothed in shimmering fabric so sheer, nothing was left to the imagination. They had scarcely said a word in all her weeks in the palace, and Grey found herself wondering what crime they could have possibly committed to warrant this cruel fate, as well.

The man who had been brought in for thieving, along with the other who had been here long before any of them, were fitted in armor tonight. They each eyed up the other uncomfortably as they stood there, waiting. Hoping the obvious would be proven wrong.

It was almost a relief when their anxious waiting in the dim hallway was cut short. A servant came in and announced that guests were arriving and the lot of humans were swept up by two pairs of hands. The grand hall was breaktaking tonight, transformed into a paradise of color and warm light. Wine and fruits of every color were laid upon polished silver platters. Grey felt her heart begin to hammer however, when she saw how many giants were milling in. Her eyes skated the crowd as she was carried towards the center of the grand centerpiece. Where was Evander?

Guests entered first, accompanied by well-dressed servants who guided them to their seats around the vast table. Conversations overheard told Grey that they were visitors from a region somewhere to the North of the Snowcaps. Their garb differed slightly from that of the local Juren, favouring shades of maroon and copper along with thick trims of sable -- yet neither the clothing nor the giants themselves were any less beautiful. They chattered excitedly amongst themselves, many not even noticing the living adornments being carefully displayed on the table before them.

The centerpiece was a great, tiered creation of gold. The servant placed them at varying levels, frowning with the concentration of somebody arranging a vase of flowers. Grey found herself jostling for room at the top with the two men in armor, until said servant jabbed her with a finger and administered a warning glare.

“Good goddess,” boomed one of the guests as he lowered himself into his chair. “What are these?”

Turning, Grey found herself the object of his gaze.

“What are what?” Another Juren across the table was peering over, eyes wide, and, before long, the others were noticing too.

At that moment, the rest of the festival-goers entered; musicians, servants bearing platters and jugs, members of the king’s guard in their finery, and finally, the monarchs themselves. Grey could feel the rumbling disturbance of their many strides all the way from the flagstones to her perch.

The chatter died down as the king and queen took their seats at the head of the table, but resumed at a single smile and nod from Queen Fira, looking more elegant than ever in an amber dress that had whispered across the stones when she walked.

“I say, Phillip,” the guest who had spoken before piped up. He sat two seats down from the king himself. If their society operated in any way like Grey’s own in Kier, this meant he must have been of some status. “You have some very strange vermin scurrying around among the strawberries.”

Grey snapped her cold gaze onto the man, drinking him in fully. It was no surprise he was handsome, but there was something genuine in those features that made her falter. His crooked smile was unassuming, not mocking. She decided whatever place he came from was warmer than Aarlith. She could practically see the balmy weather and lush grounds reflected in his mossy green eyes. A paradise that humans could only dream of.

He caught her staring. Leaning forward, he lowered his voice. “Do you have a name?”

Grey scowled. “Of course I have a… It’s Grey, sir.”

“Brandt,” the giant replied with a little bow of his head. “That’s a very pretty name. It suits you.”

The expression of dumb intrigue on his face irritated Grey for some reason. She considered giving him a piece of her mind, but one glance at King Phillip told her this would not be wise. Instead, she stared back at Brandt, unwavering.

This seemed to have the very same effect as hurling curses his way. Clearly, he was not used to seeing humans at all, let alone having one confront his wandering stare. He almost looked embarrassed as he swiveled his gaze to and from her flightily, pink collecting in his cheeks. Bewildered at this reaction though she was, it didn't trump her irritation.

“Relax,” Grey called to him, shifting her place atop the metal tier. “Ogle if you must. One might think you'd never seen a human before.”

He cleared his throat softly, exchanging a self-conscious glance with the Juren beside him. "I haven't. Not this close."

Grey cocked her head at him. “Surely you’re not so displaced from Kier, sir? It’s only a few days' ride by horse, even from here.”

“I’m afraid so. My estate is several days north of the Snowcaps. The only humans I’ve seen are in books and letters.”

Not warm then, Grey remarked to herself. “So, how does the real thing compare?” She lifted her brows and motioned one hand at herself, a silent challenge.

“I’m not sure it’s proper to say so,” Brandt said, stealing a look towards his host, “but you’re quite amazing to look at really. All of you.”

She opened and closed her mouth, defensive retorts dying on her tongue. There was no doubting his sincerity. “T-thank you. I think.”

Brandt grinned boyishly. “It is meant to be a compliment, Miss Grey.”

Much of the table was quiet, enjoying the curious exchange. Phillip’s expression was unreadable. There seemed to be a general amusement, and Grey fancied she could read their thoughts; their confusion at a human being addressed almost as an equal.

“Where did you procure such treasures, your Majesty?” Brandt asked, not taking his eyes off her.

“Here and there,” he answered, motioning for a servant to fill his and his wife’s goblets. “Many are convicted criminals, caught trespassing in our land and making mischief.”

“Not this little one, surely?” Brandt reached out a hand to Grey.

Phillip smirked, appearing now to relish the opportunity to show off. “She’s the wickedest one, my friend. What you have before you is a known Jüren-slayer. The stuff of fairy-tales, yet there she stands.”

The quiet was run through with gasps of horror, disbelief, intrigue. The hairs rose on the back of Grey’s neck. Her face was hot.

Mercifully, at that moment, a deep chime rang out, turning heads towards the vast doors to the south of the hall. Iron carts were being wheeled in, all towering with platters of food. "Main course will be served!" the head servant proclaimed. A small army of others began to transport dishes along the table, mingling meat and bread and vegetables with the already-present fruit.

Once they were done, the king waved the servants to their own seats at one end of the table, where they had access to the same luxuries as the rest. “Please don't wait!” he bade them. “Help yourselves and tuck in.” He lifted his brimming goblet towards them all. “To our Amma above, may she light our path and bless our bounty, always.”

The entire chamber roared in agreement, lifting their glasses in return.

And then it was beautiful chaos: conversation of dozens of giants at once, laughter and a massive crowd eating and ladling food onto their plates. Grey had long since become accustomed to the amplified noise of the titanic race, but so many at once made her ears ring slightly.

As she looked about, she finally caught sight of Evander. Her stomach twisted pleasantly as she took him in; he looked absolutely radiant in his fine clothes— though she made a mental note to tease him about the number of flowers stitched onto his sleeves for warriors of his rank.

She got to her feet at once, not caring what anyone watching thought as she waved to him until his head turned, and he spotted her, too. He was seated much further along the banquet table than she would have liked. There were at least five giants sat between them— he would never be able to hear her from this distance. To her elation, however, he kept his gaze on her and lifted his glass towards her, a silent toast of his own making. Grey couldn’t help the grin that spread over her face, and without thinking lifting her empty hand in a pantomime of the same motion.

Happy Midnight Jubilee to you, too.

They drank together and shared a laugh from across the table. She was sorely tempted to climb down from her assigned perch and make her way to him.

Slight commotion stirred in the corner of her eye before she could devise a proper plan, pulling her gaze from Evander’s mirthful expression. From the walkway along the veranda, a latecomer came striding in. His asymmetrical cape billowed out behind him as he moved, shimmering like the night sky under the light of the hundreds of candles

“By all means, don’t stop on my account.”

Grey’s breath caught as a solid lump in her throat as Alasdair took the empty seat in front of her. The sight of him took her breath away, and she wondered if he had been delayed merely to perfect his appearance. His hair was combed and he had shaved recently— she could smell it. Every Juren was handsome; it was simply in their nature. But tonight… there was no question in her mind that Alasdair was the most beautiful man she had ever seen. With his fair skin and dark clothes, he looked like he could be a god of midnight himself.

And of all people, this deity was ogling her, too.

“My, my, Grey… Whoever dressed you tonight deserves a treasure,” Alasdair greeted her with a purr. “You look good enough to eat in that gown.”

Eat. Grey’s gaze turned steely and flitted to his lips. He was a monster, not a god.

Alasdair cocked his head slightly. Waiting for a reaction. His grin widened into something familiar and wicked. “What’s the matter? Speechless?”

“I haven’t seen you around the palace these past few days,” Grey remarked coolly. “Has Phillip grown sick of you?”

Alasdair helped himself to a seeded roll and buttered it. “I was sent out to investigate a series of supposed attacks in a neighboring village. Miss me?” His sky blue eyes seemed to pierce right through the velvet covering her.

Grey glared right back, ignoring the empty flirtation. “Human attacks?”

“Naturally.”

“Did you capture the intruders? Or did you simply devour them on the spot?”

She felt the humans to either side of her stiffen in their seats. Alasdair, too, looked ruffled for an instant. He placed the bread bun delicately on his plate and offered a smile that did not reach his eyes.

“Now, where did you hear such a nasty rumor?”

Grey crossed her arms. “Your mighty sovereign has a penchant for gossip.”

Alasdair glanced across the table at Phillip, who was laughing loudly at something his wife had said.

“It hardly comes as a surprise,” Grey went on wryly. “I can’t count how many stories I’ve heard about your kind’s… appetite for justice. Little did I know they were all about you.”

His smile never faltered. He resumed loading up his plate. “I guarantee many of my brothers around this very table have done the same.”

Grey refused herself the uneasy look round she instinctively wished to take. She could only hope none had honed in on their conversation amidst the frightful din. “Evander is no man-eater.”

Alasdair’s hand paused halfway through shaving a slice of meat from a bird-shaped thing a little ways along the table. His knuckles were white on the knife. “My. You’ve taken quite the shine to him, haven’t you?”

She refused to be baited. “He’s good to me. Unlike so many others.”

“Good to you?” he snorted.

“He protected me from you, for a start.”

His eyes glittered with cruel laughter. “It was he who delivered you to this castle in the first place. He doomed you to a lifetime of slavery.”

“Oh, thank you, I had quite forgotten,” Grey retorted tersely, ignoring the hammering of her heart. “He was only doing his duty.”

“As am I.” He propped his head in his hand as he ate, eyeing her closely. “You just don’t like the way I do it.”

“Of course not. You’re disgusting.”

He appeared not to have even heard, busy sucking his fingers clean. “You know, you really do look ravishing in that dress,” he said after a moment. “It makes a man imagine things.”

She clutched it to her as though he could rip the garment off with his eyes alone. “I know exactly what you’re imagining,” she snarled.

“I sincerely doubt it.”

“Then you’d better keep your thoughts to yourself.”

“Or what? Will your lover boy descend upon us to defend your honor?”

“He’s not my…” Her cheeks were fire. “Y-you are deluded.”

“Is that so?”

“Mm. Or, perhaps, jealous?” She dared to lean forward. “I know your game now. Your tricks no longer work on me.”

Something cold and dangerous flickered across his face. “Is that a challenge?” he said, in a voice like silk.

[wongiemei]

3. Social Darwinism

A rash has slightly developed on your neck where the sun hit it just right without the defense of your coat. It was very uncomfortable but you didn’t let it bother you, instead focusing ahead outside the window. After your shopping trip with Jaehyun, you felt like it was time to go home even though you wanted to stay longer and didn’t want to be trapped in that house.

It’s been weeks since the wedding but you felt like it was longer.

The car stopped, the driver stepping out and walking over to your side before opening your door so that you can get off.

“Your highness,” he greeted before bowing and extending his hand out for you to take.

You gratefully nodded and grasped his gloved hand to step out of the vehicle, adjusting the sunglasses that has fallen to the bridge of your nose. The chauffeur went to the trunk to retrieve your shopping bags and luggage from your trip to France. 

The smell of the daisies and the roses from the garden out back was so strong that you were sure anyone, even without super senses, could smell it.

You loved the smell of roses.

Heels clacking against the marble floor of the entrance hallway, the maids stopped in their tracks and hastily bowed 90 degrees upon the sight of you. As you raised your hand to take of your sunglasses, some of them visibly flinched and it unconsciously placed a smirk on your face.

You’re worked so hard to be feared and you have lost so much to be at the status you are now and you weren’t going to let that go to waste because of a stupid little boy.

The butler, whom you now know as Jun, led a few footmen who were carrying your luggage and stopped a few feet behind you. With a flick of his gloved hand, the maids were dismissed and they scurried away from the sight of you.

“Take these to the Head Maid and she will take them to Her Highness’ room.” The footmen nodded and wandered off to the old woman waiting by the staircase. Jun stepped in front of you and smiled kindly before raising an arm. “If you could follow me, your Highness. The Prince has requested your attendance to the drawing room.”

Upon walking down the hallway with gold-painted walls, you could feel the eyes of the portraits that hung up high. Although they weren’t even supposed to be real, the judgeful eyes of the past ancestors of the Orenda kingdom seemed to follow you and you could even hear their hateful whispers and hisses.

‘Kalon blood, on our territory?’

‘Perish and repay the lives lost of our House for yours!’

‘Dirty blood mixed with ours will taint the House line for eternity!’

The whispers weren’t even there but the creation of your imagination as you could feel yourself slowly slipping away to insanity with this forceful arrangement that altered your life forever. With the gender you were born with and the belief that no woman could rule a kingdom, the only way you could have what you wanted was to ally yourself with your rival House. 

But the only way you’ll keep your sanity is to play wisely and not hesitate to let him burn for the benefit of you.

Pushing open the tall oak wood doors, you were a little startled at the amount of faces when you only expected one, your husband’s. Even without getting to formally know them, it was still your duty as a royal to be familiar with all of them as they were all princes from various kingdoms of your world. From the honey-haired boy to the ridiculously bright orange-haired prince, the only thing that they all had in common was the bright red eyes. 

The stark difference between the twin princes of the Cerilian House was enough to show the diversity of the line of their ancestors. Situated in the Indian Ocean, their kingdom could easily prey on poor fishermen filled with luscious human blood.

Born with platinum hair, Lee Jeno always stood out from the rest of the 4 Lee princes and combined with his defined facial structure, he became feared and his ruthlessness was enough to make him Jaemin’s right man. He was the one Jaemin called first regarding the ambush attack on his family from House Pezzerio and together, they became the most feared duo in the Underworld. Even though he rarely spoke during council meetings, Jeno’s eyes always held whatever he wanted to be expressed and he was known to always keep an eye out for his brothers and the crown prince, Taeyong. Rumor has it that Jeno’s eyes and ears are so sharp, he could easily detect a traitor from across the room. There is no definite answer as to if this was true but who do you think was supplying his brother, Donghyuck, his toys?

Meanwhile, Lee Donghyuck stayed in the shadows. Known as the playboy prince, he often stayed away from his kingdom, preferring to spend his time in Tuscany with human girls to feast on. The melanin, honey haired boy wouldn’t even be thought of as a vampire, much less a vampire prince, due to his soft features. However, out of the 4 princes, he was the most cruel. He saw the world and its people, human or Underworlders, as toys and nothing but his source of enjoyment in this dark world he lived in. Like his brother Jeno, their smile could be saying one thing but their eyes were always very honest, especially if it didn’t reach their eyes. With a dangerously playful nature, Donghyuck participated in the torture of war criminals and traitors of House Cerilian and had a thirst for the look of intense pain from the enemy as he used his lighter to tease the fragile vampire skin.

House Dormir was placed on the East China Sea, extending to the North Pacific Ocean and ending near Hawaii. With the vast territory, their kingdom usually split up in 2 different sections with 2 princes who co-ruled the kingdom. With the Orendian and Kalonian kingdom being smaller even when combined, House Dormir was known to sometimes challenge the authority of the Capital just because of the size of their territory.

Being a direct ancestor of the original line of Dormir kings, Zhong Chenle became powerful even before he turned 12. The death of his King father and older brother urged his mother to make him mature quicker with plans of ascending the throne by his 18th birthday but he wasn’t prepared. Rebelling against his mother and doing anything he can to piss her off, he teamed up with Jisung and constantly did childish things to make their immaturity known. Showing up with orange hair definitely caught the attention of the council and they knew this little boy was going to bring Dormir’s downfall. In came the 3 older princes: Jaemin, Donghyuck, and Jeno. At first, he was being used as a pawn for the Orendian Kingdom and the Cerilian Kingdom wanted to take over his large territory and split it for themselves. But Chenle was smarter than that and he threatened the 3 enough that they stopped the expansion, instead becoming close to the boy after seeing themselves in him.

However, this couldn’t be done without the help of Chenle’s cousin and the future ruler of the other half of Dormir, Renjun. With his quick wit and intelligent way of thinking, Renjun helped Chenle play many wars to get what he wanted. Not knowing if he was going to be trusted, Chenle was suspicious but Renjun has made it clear with his clear intentions as he only wants to rule alongside Chenle. After all, with Chenle by his side, everyone was forced to submit to him due to the power his family has. Known as the Night Raven, after his famous midnight colored hair, Renjun called the shots whether captured criminals got to live another day or not. He knew exactly where someone’s weakness was and would mercilessly torture them with it, all with a smile on his face. Let’s just say, him and Donghyuck get along very well.

Last but not least, the little pink haired boy. Known as the last surviving son of House Vermille, Park Jisung built a strong connection to Zhong Chenle and by association, became connected to the rest. You knew him ever since you were little and saw him as a little boy in the parties you were forced to attend and his mousy features that have defined itself due to his growth. You always remembered him as the boy with the sharpest teeth as whenever he smiled, he would accidentally cut his bottom lip and him sheepishly smiling afterwards. His innocent and adolescent nature made you feel nostalgic because you wanted to take him under your wing since he was so young. With just turning 140 a few months ago, Jisung was by far the youngest crown prince and the least capable. You vaguely remembered when he turned 115, he reached the age of intense hunger and he wiped out an entire French village thus almost causing a war with Metanoia. But, your family stopped the war because House Kalon, too, had territory in France and they didn’t want to jeopardize the alliance they’ve made to the kingdom in the Atlantic Ocean near Languo.

Of course, you knew them.

The perfect plan to obtain Underworld domination was to start a fire in this room as it contained the most powerful people in the Underworld.

All of the boys studied you and you cracked a smirk, crossing your arms across your chest. “Well, hello boys,” you greeted with a sultry tone.

Closing the door behind you, you stopped short by the end of the oval wood table that seated your husband at the head. Making eye contact with him, Jaemin smiled before he stood up and walked over to you, arms wrapping around your middle and pressing a slow kiss to your temple.

“Hello, darling. How was your trip?” Jaemin asked with a sickeningly sweet tone that made you wretch inside.

Placing a gentle hand on his strong bicep, you peered up at him through your lashes. “Enjoyable, but not pleasing enough.” You answered with a smile but grit your teeth and squeezed his arm the hardest you could and his smile fell, replaced with a hardened expression.

Oh, he is going to destroy you later.

“You could’ve told me your little friends were coming. I could’ve came back earlier and arranged for scones,” you gazed at the others who wore faint amused smirks at the interaction in front of them.

Jaemin’s gaze remained on your face and you felt it piercing through your cheeks, “There was a human boy found wandering the woods. He will serve as our refreshment.”

Nodding silently, you took a seat beside Jisung and laced your fingers together. “So what has brought you all to this side of town?”

“Malor just lost an entire noble family in England a few days ago from vampire hunting. They planned to stay in Yorkshire for a few months for vacation but word got around of their true identity and burned their vacation home. The Council wants to know our opinion about it and the family wants us to deal with it. Something about this being a trial run for the future.” Jeno explained as he visibly tried to get comfortable while crossing his legs.

Jaemin nods and he returns to his seat and leans back, brushing his long fingers through his hair. You unknowingly licked your lips at the action and only noticed your behavior as he caught your eye and looked at you teasingly. You coughed and held your right hand out to examine your nail.

“Well, Malor is quite known for their, should I say -idiotic- elites. Vacationing in a country that has vampire stories riding the winds and not expecting to be hunted with no hesitation? Consider me improper but they deserved their demise.”

Donghyuck let out a dry chuckle and rested his elbows on the table, resting his chin on his right hand. “I must say, princess. I never considered you as the deserving justice type.”

You returned his cheeky smile with a wink, “If I were to rule the Underworld, I would make sure the weak and stupid ones were gone first, right? It would be better if it wasn’t done by my hand.”

“Applying Social Darwinism to your court? A bold yet risky move,” Renjun commented, eyeing you curiously.

It must be odd seeing a woman speak so rashly and freely about topics like these, much less a royal woman.

“Our world can only survive if we get rid of weaklings. Sorry, but I don’t make the rules.”

Chuckles surrounded the table and even Jeno had to suppress the smile that threatened to come out. Jaemin looked at you once more and he started to think differently of what he originally thought was a privileged, spoiled brat who only wanted the crown of jewels on her head, not the responsibility.

It was the good kind of different.

“Well, because of that rash attitude, the union of your houses has caused quite an uproar with an underground resistance that is forming in the Capital as we speak. The war from years ago is still fresh in the minds of many and are outraged at the outcome of the 2 kingdoms. Word has it that they are planning an attack and it is even sponsored by other kingdoms as well. My men have no guaranteed answers and no direct evidence for the suspected Houses or whether the attack is directed to you or to us by association.” You eyed Jeno curiously and noticed the strong aura he radiated. It felt familiar but strangely ominous and made you nervous.

“Well, why don’t we catch them now? We know there’s a rebellion happening and we know that they’re planning something. Are we just going to stand and wait for it to happen?” Jisung argued and Chenle nodded in agreement, looking at the faces of the elders.

You turned to him and placed a manicured hand on Jisung’s shoulder. “Don’t worry, little mouse. A lesson about war, it is in your best interest for the enemy to come to you. Thinking on your feet is the best way to win and as a bonus, requires less thinking which should be beneficial for you.”

“So, what you’re saying is, they should come to us rather than us going to them?” Chenle asked curiously, confused by this battle tactic.

You nodded, “Precisely.”

“If they are planning something, it’s only natural for you two to be the target since you’re the future king and queen. Someone might be taken as an exchange for you but it’s suspected and there might be a way to escape that,” Renjun commented.

You frowned, slightly confused and even a little shocked at what they were saying. “Don’t focus on only the two of us. All of you are princes as well and it’s only wrong for you to be thinking about our safety. Regard your titles as you are also a royal member of your respective kingdoms. Any action placed upon you can cause a war and a rebellion amongst the people and give them more power. The last thing we need is an internal conflict that could possibly weaken us.”

But Jaemin grinned cynically, razor sharp teeth on display. “Oh, darling, you don’t have to think about that. If something were to happen to my boys, with the combination of our armies, we could crush anything. I could feel a revolution running through my veins and with the help of them, we could destroy those other treacherous kingdoms.”

“So what do you have in mind, Jaems? What could bring them to us?” Donghyuck asked, lazily playing with a stain on the wood.

Both you and Jaemin looked at each other and you scoffed as you seem to be thinking what he was thinking. 

“An auction. Human auction.” He answered and Donghyuck smiled happily, eager to find more beings to play with.

“There is no certainty that we will find a King that is sponsoring this rebellion but it could give us a good idea that could help narrow it down. We must not be rash about this situation but we must be on high-alert as well.” Nods were sent to you and Jaemin sent you an approving nod.

“Well there we have it! We got a plan, we execute the said plan, and we live happily ever after! Huzzah!” Donghyuck exclaimed, rising out of his seat. 

But Jeno tugged down his shirt and made him fall back on his seat again. “Not so fast, Dongie. We still have to talk about your magical adventure in Milan that caused a few dozens of missing girls’ cases to appear.”

You stood up, brushing invisible dust off of your skirt. “As much as I would love to ask about your insane thirst for young, virgin maidens, Donghyuck, I do have a party to plan.”

“But it’s not a party,” Jaemin remarked. You scoffed and sent him a manic smile.

“With wine, cocaine, and blood? Oh, yes, my love. It is a party.”

The bed creaked as a series of powerful thrusts of his hips snapped towards you, making you whine and gasping for air. Your arms were starting to give out, letting Jaemin hold you up by your waist and continue slamming himself into you. Sweat gathered on his forehead and left his luscious blonde locks to plaster themselves against his porcelain skin.

“I” thrust

“Am” thrust

“Your” thrust

“King” thrust

“Understand?” thrust

A high-pitched whine left your lips as he sunk deeper into you, relishing the satisfaction of him touching you places you couldn’t even fathom was possible. 

Not hearing your response, Jaemin let one of his hands go and swiftly twisted your hair into a make-shift ponytail and tugged you close, lifting you so you were against his chest and on his lap. The sudden action made you scream since he sank even deeper.

“I said, understand?” He hissed and you couldn’t even control yourself, whining and moaning at the sharp thrusts.

“Yes, my king.”

“Good.”

a/n: not gonna lie, this was kinda weird to write and severely overdue. THANK YOU to you guys who stuck by me even though i haven’t updated in a while and never stopped supporting me!! i love you guys!!

Taglist:

@d0dges​ @bobohu-s-ane-yeobo​ @heyyyun​ @thwia 

[cto10121]

well i’m bored so might as well review the new twilight book, midnight sun. yeah

you know, if someone had come up to me circa ~2000s and told me “yo cto10121, i have a novel in mind, it’s kind of a beauty and the beast/romeo and juliet high school fantasy au, think it’ll work/make a ridiculous amount of money???” i probably would have said no, but cool fanfic, yo, you do you. but as stephenie meyer came up with twilight and literally spawned ya books as a marketable genre...it goes to show that it really isn’t the idea that matters, but the execution of it. too bad she got the most ridiculous amount of slack and bad faith criticism for it though - people really do not know their vampire fiction from their gothic romances

enter midnight sun in edward’s point of view, and now we’re in full-on b&b/hades and persephone territory (literally, the myth is alluded to so many times it’s ridiculous. on the other hand, meyer’s self-awareness is just so. refreshing. for a moment there all the ya romances shamelessly stealing based on r&j always had to mention something about how awful r&j was. my palms continually itched to strangle some fools from 2008 onwards. dark days, my friends, dark days). so let’s see how it goes

it starts off good: edward is appropriately haughty, arrogant on the side of an actual god complex, intelligent but also very quick to judge, and angsty about his bloodlust-y state. bonus points: he doesn’t think bella is all that at first and dismisses her from the word-go. so appropriately...beastly. i also like how in this version bella’s willingness to challenge edward on his bullshit, and the cycle of  edward assuming something about bella and then his assumptions turn out wrong, is much more evident here. of course, this is edward’s journey from beast to prince, so he gets to realize some truths about himself: he can’t control everything, he really is not a good judge of character, much less human character, and just...let nature take its course sometimes ffs

but alas, since pacing is everything in a romance, i felt edward’s realization that he is in love with bella came a little too fast - pretty much by alice’s vision of bella as a vampire it was confirmed and he was like wup guess i love this sweet-smelling now. i would have liked some more denial and resistance on edward’s part, probably moved alice’s vision way later, since that would have been in line with his all-knowing character and then show that he cares through the narrative. bella’s fascination with edward is woven through her POV so it did not have to be outright stated until very late in the game (the french title actually would have been more apropos - fascination. pretty much says it all). twilight actually has the structure of a mystery, so it’s sad that that aspect so quickly discarded

also - and this was a weakness of twilight too - the vampires are way too overpowered, to the point where immortality is much more of a sweet deal than ancient curse, and so edward’s beast-like angst over it a little less understandable. i know this is the fantasy equivalent/allegory of rich douchebags with obscene wealth, but still. some limits would have been very nice. how far can these vampires move? the super strength is particularly too much. on the other hand, there was more a fleshing out of the eras the vampires lived in and their backstories are still top-notched - you did believe the cullens came from another time entirely, especially edward.

but by far the greatest weakness is that there was too much detail - meyer no doubt found it difficult to stick to the original plotline so there was much less room to maneuver. this led to too many details, particularly unnecessary ones, and not the stuff you actually want to know re:character and lore (for my part, as an example: edward’s bloodlust situation was not at all unique, so why don’t the vampires have a name for it already? the volturi called the human a cantante - why is there no english equivalent, even if it’s just a transliteration? edward literally had to explain it fully to carlisle. but ignore me i’m just a language nerd). it served to dilute the romance, not enhance it. there should have been a lot more introspection, i feel

so that’s midnight sun for you. as for more structural criticism...well, the reason why i would not (normally) think b&b/r&j would make a good mashup is because of the two different character dynamics involved. b&b is essentially a may-december romance, with an older more experienced (and rich, the guy is always rich in these things) man with a tragic past/dark secret and a young, beautiful ingenue. r&j is an immediate mutual attraction, usually a coup de foudre whirlwind passion between two people of similar ages but who cannot be together because of an obstacle. there is obviously plenty of overlap, but the resolutions are different: b&b requires that the beast change his ways into a prince with the help of beauty and r&j is essentially tragic - when the obstacles are too high to be overcome and when the love is too strong to give up, lovers die and (sometimes) the obstacles too. twilight slides between the two poles fairly well, but ultimately goes on way too long. usually romances are one, two books at the most. either bella and/or edward should have died mutually, or bella should have turned into a vampire by the end of book two. the series never resolved the two fundamental diametric poles, only adding the feuding-houses aspect (vampires vs. werewolves) and the rival love interest. i will give midnight sun this, though: like disney’s b&b, it benefits from shifting the development on edward’s part, not bella’s. 

in sum: started out strong, but then lost the plot somewhere around the middle. the meadow scene still slaps, though. not one kiss and yet it’s hotter than the sahara at noon. i’ve forgotten how much the movies sucked, adaptation-wise; the series is pure gothic romance and they turned into an indie high school flick and then a fantasy coming-of-age flick.