#would this alternative path in life be enough for her?

[aladio-milhomes]

What if Catherine had left the Park when Partner died, and never had gone to Slough House in the first place?

[liliacamethyst]

Webs of Fate - Miguel O'Hara (Part II)

Sequel to Web of Secrets

Miguel O'Hara x SpiderSun Reader

words: 5.2K

warnings: secret pregnancy trope, swearing, angst, heartbreak, grumpy/sunshine, smut, time jumps, not really comic accurate (canon events), semi public piv, 18+

Part I Part II Part III Part IV

You are all back at the Spider-Verse Headquarters and the atmosphere is tense. Everyone is still high on adrenaline from the mission. You’re nursing a deep gash on your arm but your spirit is far from broken.

Miguel, however, seems to be on the verge of an explosion.

“WHAT THE HELL WAS THAT OUT THERE SPIDER SUN?” he bursts out, his voice echoing through the HQ.

You're taken aback. “What do you mean?”

“That reckless behavior! You could have been killed!” he roars. “Why didn’t you retreat when you were injured?!”

“Because there were lives at stake! I can handle myself, Miguel!” you shout back.

“You think this is a game?! You think being part of this team is just for kicks?” Miguel’s face is red, his voice strained.

“Don’t you dare! Don’t you dare question my dedication!” you yell, your own anger now matching his.

The team is watching, shifting uncomfortably. Gwen looks at Jess, who shakes her head. The room is thick with tension.

Alright, if you are being honest with yourself, your recent actions in the field could definitely be classified as reckless. Perhaps even bordering on idiotic - not that you’d ever confess that in front of Miguel. You didn’t know where your mind went. Wait, no, scratch that. You knew precisely where your thoughts were, every mission since you discovered your pregnancy has been like this; your spider senses dulled, focus scattered to the wind, and reflexes that would’ve made a sloth proud.

And then there was this mission – your first one in quite a while alongside Miguel. He was bound to notice.

So you were fighting an Electro variant from an alternate universe, alongside Jess, Gwen, Ben and Miguel. The electric villain was throwing bolts of energy left and right and everyone was giving their all. You noticed a civilian trapped under some debris. You made a beeline for them, not thinking about anything else.

As you lifted the debris, an energy bolt flew straight for you. Usually, your Spider-Senses would have alerted you but not today. It hit you square in the back and sent you flying.

You hit a wall but ignored the pain as you scrambled back to your feet. A sharp ache spread across your arm but you gritted your teeth and kept fighting.

Miguel yelled, “What the hell are you doing?! Fall back!”

But you didn’t, you kept pushing forward.

He landed next to you, his eyes filled with anger and something else, maybe a hint of worry. He grabbed your waist to pull you back. But as another energy bolt was coming your way, you shoved him out of the path, taking the hit for the second time. So yeah, you could say that this mission wasn't exactly the shining star in your superhero career.

“ESTÚPIDA! So damn stupid. I won’t fucking watch someone throw their life away recklessly!” Miguel was now yelling loudly in oyur face for everyone in the HQ to hear.

“Oh, please. What’s it to you? Since when do you care, Miguel?!” you shout back, finally having enough of his insufferable attitude. “All this time, you’ve treated me like I’m dispensable. Like I don't matter! Well, guess what? I can fight, I can make decisions, and I don’t need you to approve them!”

“Don’t!” Miguel's voice cracks, and for a brief second, there’s a look of hurt on his face that surprises you. But his rage quickly replaces it. “I cannot do this anymore with you, ¿me entiendes?” he yells.

The room falls silent. Everyone’s gazes dart between you and Miguel. You can feel Gwen’s worried eyes on you, and Ben Riley. looks like he wants to intervene, but this moment is too charged.

You take a deep breath, tears welling up. “I can't do this anymore either,” you whisper.

“What?” Miguel's voice is barely audible.

“I can't keep fighting for a team where I’m not respected or trusted. Where you treat me constantly like a liability, like I am worth nothing to you,” you say, your voice steadier now.

“You don’t know what you are saying,” Miguel says, his tone slightly softening.

You turn around, your eyes welling up once again and open a portal to your universe. “I do, I quit” you say, your voice breaking.

You reach into your pocket and pull out your transdimensional gizmo, the small device that every Spider-person uses to travel across the multiverse. It's an intricate piece of technology, a blend of science and magic that fits in the palm of your hand.

You toss the device on the table in front of Miguel. It skids across the surface before coming to a stop right in front of him. He looks from the gizmo to you, his expression unreadable.

"Take it. We don’t need it anymore." You say defiantly, meeting his gaze.

Everyone knows the implication of you returning the gizmo. Without it, you're effectively stranded in your universe, unable to return to the society. This isn't a decision made lightly, it's a point of no return.

As you step through the portal, you glance back one last time. You see Miguel’s face, contorted in pain, but he doesn’t move, he doesn’t speak and he doesn't stop you.

Your heart is breaking, but you can’t stay here. Not when it’s this painful.

You turn away and head toward the portal room, with one hand lightly grazing your tummy. Gwen calls your name, but you don’t stop.

In the dim light of the room, the world seems to fade away as you lie there with Miguel on top of you. You are under him, breathless, your fingers running through his hair. His body pins you down in a tender, electrifying way, and you can feel the rhythm of his heart beating against yours.

His fangs graze the curve of your neck lightly, eliciting a shiver that runs through you. In response, he nuzzles into you, his breath warm against your skin.

"Ever think about what we're doing?" he asks in a whisper that vibrates against your neck.

"Constantly," you respond, your fingers tracing the curve of his broad shoulders, "but I don’t regret it, not a moment.”

He lifts his head, his red orbs searching yours. “Neither do I,” he says, his voice barely more than a whisper. His hand reaches up to trace the contour of your face.

"You know," you whisper, your hands continuing caressing his back, "I always wondered what it was like in your universe, in your time."

He shifts a little, propping himself up on one elbow as he looks down at you. His eyes, usually as unreadable, now seem to crack open; emotions swirl within them like stars.

"It was great, you know," his voice is gentle, each word enveloping you. "No, more than that – it was perfect," he corrects himself. His eyes never leave yours as he continues, "I had my Gabriella. Ah, you would have adored her." His voice softens to a mere whisper as if speaking her name too loudly might shatter the memory. "She was this incredible burst of life just like you. My own little sunshine. I didn’t know my heart could hold so much until she came into my life."

"The way she would throw her head back and laugh, it was like music. Her tiny hands – so soft and gentle. I remember how one of them always found mine, and the world felt... right." He continued, "I was never alone, never empty." He swallows hard, as if trying to keep the flood of emotions from washing over him.

You cup his cheek gently, smiling up at him. "You don't have to be alone, you know?"

He lets out a dry chuckle. “Sometimes it feels like there's no other option. It’s my fate."

“What scares you the most, Miguel?” you suddenly ask, your voice barely above a whisper.

He hesitates. “To lose myself… to forget what it means to care for someone,” he finally confesses.

“You won’t,” you assure him, your thumb stroking his cheek. “Not if you don’t let yourself.”

“¿y tú?” His voice is husky. “What’s your biggest fear?”

“To be forgotten,” you whisper.

He lowers himself and presses his forehead against yours. “Imposible,” he breathes. “You’re the sun. No one forgets the sun.”  He pulls you closer, pressing a soft kiss to your lips, his arms tighten around you, pulling you closer until the world outside disappears.

Suddenly, his wrist console beeps, yanking him back to the present. "O’Hara, are you okay?" Lyla's voice echoes in the room, breaking the silence. He blinks, his gaze focusing on the holographic screen displaying the mission details in front of him. "Yeah, Lyla," he responds, his voice a bit hoarse. "Just remembered something," he murmurs, and refocuses on the screen before him.

Amidst the sea of codes and numbers, Miguel finds himself struggling to focus. His thoughts still are consumed by you, and a heavy realization crashes down upon him like a tidal wave - he’s lost you forever.

He always knew that this was how it was meant to be. This was the only logical conclusion, the inevitable outcome that he had tried so hard to deny. He was aware of the potential repercussions, the cosmic imbalance that could be brought about by your intertwining fates. 

Lyla had warned him multiple times, cautioned him against letting you close. But how could he have possibly resisted you? You, who shone brighter than the sun, who captured the hearts of everyone around with your aura and your kind soul. Your beauty was unparalleled, and your laughter had the power to fill a room, casting away shadows. He was a moth drawn to your flame, hopelessly captivated from the very first day he met you.

 But you were never meant to be his story, not the path his life was meant to tread. You belonged to another world, another universe.

"You're thinking about her, aren't you?" Lyla breaks the silence with her smooth, computerized voice. “No,” he interrupts her sharply, his voice a little too forceful.

But Lyla isn't easily deterred. "You know it was dangerous from the beginning, Miguel," Lyla continues. "Engaging with her like that...it could have caused irreparable damage to the multiverse."

"I know," he replies curtly.

Unyielding, Lyla continues, "This was never supposed to be a canon event. Her universe is not meant to mix with yours. It's fortunate that she left when she did. The damage could've been—"

“I KNOW!” Miguel suddenly erupts, his voice thundering through the room. He screams, his frustration boiling over, "¡Ya lo sé, Lyla! ¡Basta ya!" ("I already know, Lyla! Enough already!") With a loud grunt, he sweeps his arm across his desk, sending his keyboard, mug, and various other items crashing to the ground.

There is a deafening silence as Miguel breathes heavily, his chest heaving. His eyes are wide, his face is flushed and his fangs are bared. He never loses control, not like this.

Lyla, for once, remains silent.

3 months later…

Back in Nea Yorkey, Earth 586 , you are perched on the rooftop, absentmindedly rubbing your stomach. Time has passed since you left Nueva York and Miguel, but your feelings for him are still a tangled mess. Damn these pesky pregnancy hormones.

 For once, it’s pretty calm out there. No honking horns in traffic jams or the usual buzz of people everywhere. It’s like the city hit the pause button and honestly, it’s kind of nice. The streetlights are like tiny fairy lights all over, and the tall buildings around you feel like they’re keeping you company.

The cool breeze brushes against your face, and you can't help but be lost in your thoughts. Thoughts of him. The relentless flood of emotions is almost too much to handle.

The flashback hits you hard, placing you right back in Miguel's office late one evening. Your legs were wrapped around his waist, your backside planted firmly on his desk amidst strewn cables and metallic pieces and half-empty coffee mugs.

"Miguel, someone will catch us," you had warned, your breath hitching as he nipped at your skin, his hands deftly moving to undo your skintight suit. His hair was a little longer then, the ends tickling your forehead as he kissed you.

He had just chuckled, the sound deep and throaty, making your heart flutter. "They know better than to disturb me," he'd responded confidently, his lips trailing fiery kisses along your jawline.

Usually, Miguel was cautious about showing any sign of affection when others might be around, even if 'around' meant anywhere in the sprawling headquarters of the Spider Society. Yet, that night, he seemed to throw caution to the wind.

In his enclosed office, late into the evening, he let his guard down - a rarity. His lips were insistent against your skin, his touch setting you alight. You remember how the soft glow of the desk lamp had caught in his eyes, making them appear even more mesmerizing.

As he was holding your ass up steady and pounding into you, in a pace and fervor you never experienced before, you hear his communicator ring vibrating. You instinctively attempt to pull away, assuming he would answer the call, but he holds you tighter, his lips never leaving your skin.

His free hand pulls up a holographic screen,which flickered to life above the desk, revealing a slightly pixelated image of Jess. You panic for a moment, worried that she might see you in this intimate moment with Miguel, but he just shook his head slightly, reassuring you that she can't. He must have filtered the video feed on his end.

“Yes, Jess?” Miguel’s voice was steady, but his breath ghosted your neck in short spurts. He continued with his action, his thrusts a little slower but deep, nevertheless. You clamp your teeth down onto Miguel's shoulder in a desperate attempt to stifle the moans escaping your throat, your senses overwhelmed by the intensity of the moment. You can barely contain yourself. Miguel's soft, amused chuckle vibrate through you as he wraps his arms around you protectively. Asshole.

“We’ve got an anomaly on Earth-4067, seems like a temporal rift,” Jess's voice came through the hologram.

“Have you tried the Q-particle stabilizer?” Miguel asks, his voice so casual it's almost disarming. His eyes meet yours, a playful glint in them.

“Yeah, but it didn’t work. The rift is actually growing,” Jess responds, the worry in her voice increasing. “What do you think we should do?”

“Alright, I want you to reconfigure the dimensional frequency to match the rift. Then patch the satellite feed through the Alchemax algorithm, reverse the temporal frequency by 4.7 hertz and use the resonance pulse to stabilize the rift,” Miguel articulates with authority as he continues to pick up his pace. You’re close to the edge, with the euphoria threatening to make you cry out. The sheer pleasure is now tinged with a faint edge of pain, and a wave of panic crashes over you. The thought of Jess possibly hearing you is nerve-wracking, and you’re now fighting to suppress your screams.

Your breathing becomes erratic as you whisper in a hoarse, needy voice, “Miguel, ‘m close."

"I know, mami. Come for me," he whispers back, his voice filled with a playful mischief that seems to defy the gravity of the situation. His hot breath against your ear sends shivers down your spine and the wave of pleasure crushes down on you.

“Miguel, are you sure about this? I mean, if something goes wrong…” Jess hesitates.

“I’m sure, Jess.” Thrust. “Do.” Another hard thrust. “it.” Miguel’s voice turns forceful.

“Okay, I trust you. But... are you alright? You sound kinda breathless,” Jess's suspicion returns.

“Oh, just...uh...running some diagnostics. It’s a bit stuffy in here,” Miguel replies with a smirk on his face, his fingers now gently brushing against your bare heated skin.

The rooftop is silent again, and you're still rubbing your belly, where the life you and Miguel created is growing. A bittersweet tear rolls down your cheek as you wish, not for the first time, that things could have been different.

You don’t know how long you are sitting there, taking in the city scene. But it was getting dark, when a familiar figure swings onto the rooftop. It's Gwen, carrying a small package in her hand. “Gwen? What brings you to Nea Yorkey?”

She walks up to you with a soft smile, "Do I need a reason to visit my favourite Spider-Ma? I've got something for you."

You raise an eyebrow as she hands you the package. As you unwrap it, you find a tiny Spider-Man hat, similar to the one Mayday usually wears. And to your surprise, there’s a tiny anarchy pin, attached to it.

"From the group," she says softly. She adds, pointing at the pin, "This bit here, that’s from Hobie." Of course it is.

You’re moved to tears as you hug the hat close. It's a simple gift, yet it means so much. You feel a lump in your throat, and Gwen steps forward, wrapping you in a warm, comforting hug.

"I...I miss all of you so much," you manage to whisper, your voice choked with emotion.

"We miss you too," Gwen replies, her voice equally soft.

You pull back, wiping your eyes. Gwen tries to lighten the mood, "So, any guesses on the gender? I bet it’s a boy."

You shrug, a small smile tugging at your lips, "I don't care what it's going to be. I just want them to be healthy."

Gwen grins, "Just remember, if it is a boy and he turns out to be a handful, you owe me a soda."

You both sit on the edge of the rooftop in a comfortable silence, legs swinging over the city, the conversation turns more serious.

"So," you venture, "how are things back at the Spider Society?"

Gwen’s expression turns contemplative. "It's been... strange since you left," she admits.

"Strange how?" you prod.

"Well, you know how Miguel was always a little on the, uh, grumpy side?" she says, making a grimace.

"You mean being a brooding fortress of doom and gloom?" you quip, and Gwen chuckles.

"Yeah, that. Well, he's gotten worse since you left. Like, way worse," Gwen's face turns somber as she continues. "He’s even more closed off than before. His temper’s shorter, he barely communicates, and he's been pushing everyone away. Miguel’s basically got everyone on lockdown. No unauthorized visits between universes. There’s this... I don’t know... this cloud hanging over him, you know?”

Your heart tightens as you take in her words. You had no idea that your departure had such an impact on him, or anyone for that matter.

“He doesn’t talk about it, but I think he misses you,” Gwen adds, looking directly into your eyes.

You are torn. Part of you wants to be angry at Miguel for how things went down, but another part aches for him.

Gwen nudges you. "Maybe he needs his sunshine back," she says with a gentle smile.

You sit in silence for a moment, the weight of Gwen’s words sinking in. “Don’t be silly. I was never his sunshine.”

4 months later…

Beneath the pale glow of hospital lights, pain and joy mingle in the delivery room. The grip you have on the sheets gets tighter as you push to usher your baby into the world. Your hair is sticking to your forehead, your breath comes in heaving gasps, exhaustion painting dark circles under your eyes.

Meanwhile, unbeknownst to you, a portal flickers to life outside your window, and Gwen, Peter B., and Hobie emerge.

“Make way! The party has arrived!” Peter B. exclaims loudly.

“I don’t believe in parties.” Hobie says as he struts in, clad in his Spider suit with a leather jacket over it, pins and patches proudly displayed.

Gwen knocks at your door. The midwife, busy with you in the labor, answers.

“Uh, who are you?” the midwife asks, slightly agitated.

“We’re friends of hers,” Peter gestures towards you, “is it a good time?”

You hear their voices, but you cant muster up a response all you can do is scream and push.

“Blimey, I didn’t think it’d be like somethin’ outta Alien! You alright there, love?” Hobie’s eyes go wide, as he enters the room.

You can't help but laugh through the pain, "Oh, just peachy, thanks for asking."

Gwen steps forward, immediately grabbing your hand, her voice soothing, “Hey, you’re doing great. Is there anything we can do?”

“You could get Hobie out of here,” you jest, rolling your eyes, but your smile betrays your appreciation. Another loud scream follows.

“You got this, luv!” Hobie shouts. “Just imagine the bloody contractions as guitar riffs! You’re about to release the raddest album in history!”

Finally, after what feels like an eternity, you hear the cries of your newborn baby.

“Congratulations, it's a boy!” the nurse announces, handing the baby to to you.

You can’t help but laugh. Gwen steps closer to the bed and takes a peek at the baby. Her eyes light up. “Told you, it’s a boy. He’s absolutely beautiful,” she whispers.

Hobie chimes in. “Alright, let’s get a proper look at the little bloke!” He leans in, and his face softens. "Oh, look at 'im!" Hobie exclaims in his thick British accent, peering at him. "Little blighter's a spitting image of 'is mum, ain't he?” No. You see it then, the dark eyes with a hint of red glow echo the intensity of his father's gaze, the dark chocolate hair and the sun kissed complexion. He looked undeniably just like Miguel. You cant help yourself but fall immediately in love with your and Miguel’s little boy.

As they prepare to leave, Gwen, Peter B., and Hobie each take turns holding Gabriel and whispering well-wishes to him. 

“I can’t thank you guys enough for being here,” you say, wiping away a tear.

Peter’s mask is off and he’s beaming. "We couldn't miss this for the multiverse!"

Gwen follows suit, "Yeah! Plus, Hobie wouldn't let us hear the end of it if we didn’t."

“We’re family,” Peter says firmly. “Across universes and timelines. We’re always here for each other.”

With that, the trio put on their masks and with another whoosh, they're gone.

1 year later...

One year has passed like a whirlwind. You've established a balance in your life. By day, you are a doting mother, and your world revolves around a little ball of energy named Gabriel. His laugh is the music that fuels your day, and his tiny hands holding yours make everything seem alright.

At night, though, you become someone else. Clad in a white suit adorned with golden sun patterns, you swing through the skyscrapers of Nea Yorkey as the Sun Spider. Your heart swells with pride, knowing that you’re keeping the streets and your little boy safe.

Your neighbor, Melissa, sometimes babysits Gabriel. She is a cheerful, quirky 19-year-old neighbor who dreams of becoming an Instagram influencer. You trust her (her career choice not so much) and, most importantly, Gabriel adores her.

Up until today, you believed that he hadn't inherited any powers. However, today was the first time he climbed up a wall and spun a web, without the aid of a web-slinger. It was the first time you witnessed him display such powers, and naturally, you were impressed. However, you also realized that being a mom would now involve dealing with a whole new set of challenges and responsibilities, making everyday life more exhausting than before. But you are up for the challenge;

Meanwhile, in the Spider Society’s HQ in Nueva York, Lyla’s holographic screen blinks red as she detects an anomaly in Earth 586 - your universe. She reports it to Miguel, who is still his grumpy self, seemingly even more irritable with each day passing.

“There’s a presence in Earth 586 that does not belong,” Lyla reports in her emotionless tone.

Miguel, sitting at his desk, sighs deeply. “Assemble the team. Pavitr, Lego Spider-Man, and... let’s bring in the newbie, Miles.”

Minutes later, the trio is briefed about the anomaly – a two-year-old child. They are to extract the child and bring it back.

Back in your universe, you're facing off against a notorious villain – The Shocker, who is on a rampage downtown. His high-frequency shock waves shake the very foundations of the buildings around you.

“Not tonight, Shocker,” you quip as you dodge a blast. “I’ve got a bedtime story to read!”

You're agile and sharp, but you can’t wait to get back home to Gabriel.

In your apartment, Melissa is on the couch, engrossed in her phone. She doesn't notice Pavitr slyly slipping into Gabriel's room. He can’t help but feel conflicted, seeing the innocent child asleep.

“This is the target?” Pavitr speaks in a hushed tone into his communicator. His voice is laced with doubt.

“Yes, proceed,” responds Miguel firmly.

Pavitr gently picks up Gabriel, cradling him in his arms. “Sorry, little guy,” he whispers and slips out.

Outside, they gather near the portal. Miles, who is visibly excited to be on his first mission, can sense the tension among the group.

“That was… too easy,” Pavitr murmurs, still holding the sleeping child.

Through the swirling portal, they make their way back to Nueva York.

Meanwhile, you web up The Shocker and leave him hanging for the police.

Back in the Spider Society's HQ in Nueva York, the team stands in a specialized containment room with the toddler still peacefully sleeping nestled in a makeshift bed of spider-web, completely oblivious to the attention he's attracting. One by one, members of the Spider Society trickle into the room, drawn by curiosity and concern.

Miles, who is new to the Spider Society, looks at the child with confusion. "I don't get it, what's so dangerous about a kid?" he asks.

Pavitr looks conflicted, “We have to determine where he came from and why he is considered an anomaly.”

Lego Spider-Man remains silent, trying to analyze the situation. He finally speaks up. "We should be cautious. Just because it's a child doesn't mean it's not potentially hazardous to the multiverse."

Miguel enters the room, his face cold and emotionless. He glances at the sleeping child, then at his team. “It doesn’t matter what it is. Anomalies threaten the balance of the multiverse. Every anomaly has to be returned to its home universe. That’s the rule.” he says sternly.

"But he's not an anomaly, boss," Jess adds, gazing fondly at the child. "He's a little boy."

Miguel’s gaze is unwavering, ignoring Jess. “Lyla? Whats the status?” 

Lyla's holographic form flickers into the room. "This entity possesses unknown powers," she declares, her voice ringing out with clinical detachment. "And according to my scans, it doesn't belong to any known universe. Therefore, it cannot be returned. It must be... eliminated."

Miles' eyes widen. “Wait, you mean…?” he can’t bring himself to finish the sentence.

Pavitr steps forward, his fists clenched. “We can’t just... There must be another way.”

Back in your universe, you swing closer to your apartment, but your spider-sense starts are tingling with a ferocity you’ve never experienced before. Your heart races, and you quicken your pace. Bursting through the window, you find Melissa still sitting on the couch, scrolling through her phone.

"Where is he? Where’s Gabriel?!" you shout, panic straining your voice.

Melissa's eyes go wide as she looks up from her phone. "What? He's in his room, sleeping," she says, but her voice falters when she sees the terror on your face.

You rush into Gabriel's room and find the crib empty. Your knees buckle, and a guttural scream escapes your lips. The room spins as you run back to the living room, grabbing Melissa by the shoulders.

"Did anyone come in? Did you see anything?!" you practically scream at her.

“I... I didn’t see anyone. I swear!” Melissa's voice shakes.

Your heart feels like it's tearing apart. You look around the room, desperate for any clue. You need to find your son, and something deep within you tells you that the Spider Society is where you need to go. You have to find a way to travel through the multiverse without a gizmo and the time is ticking. You have to find your son.

Back in the HQ in the midst of the tension-filled room, Gwen stands up, "Miguel, you can't be serious," she pleads, disbelief resonating in her voice. "We can't just... kill a baby.”

Miguel's eyes narrow. "Sometimes tough decisions have to be made for the greater good.”

Just then, little Gabriel wakes up. His big eyes wander curiously around the room, and he starts to make happy babbling sounds. Unfazed by his surroundings, he looks at each of the Spider-People with fascination.

As Peter B. is about to reach down to pick Gabriel up, the toddler crawls quickly over to Miguel. His little face lights up with the purest of smiles and he reaches his tiny arms towards Miguel as if trying to give him a hug.

The room seems to collectively hold its breath. Even Miguel seems taken aback.

Pavitr can't help it, “He seems to have taken a liking to you, boss.”

Gwen smiles, her eyes watering up. “See? Even this innocent soul can sense there’s still good in you.”

Tiny fingers grip at the fabric of Miguel's suit, baby Gabriel coos and giggles as he clambers up the towering figure. Planting tiny baby kisses on any part of Miguel he can reach, the toddler's joyous laughter rings in the silent room. "Vete, Vete." Miguel mutters. And despite Miguel's cold exterior, Gabriel is unphased, drawn to him as though an invisible bond exists between them.

Miguel looks frustrated and uncomfortable with the baby's affection. He awkwardly picks Gabriel up at arm’s length. But the little one is relentless, trying to cuddle into Miguel’s chest.

Annoyed, Miguel places Gabriel into a containment field made of energy beams, to keep him in place. The baby, though restrained, is still reaching out to Miguel with his tiny hands, cooing.

The room goes quiet again, and Gwen speaks, her voice soft.

“Look at him, Miguel. Please. You can’t tell me that this doesn’t affect you in any way.”

Miguel's face is tense, his jaw clenched. His eyes dart between Gwen and Gabriel. All eyes are directed towards Miguel. The room feels like it’s waiting for something to shatter.

“We do what needs to be done, no exceptions.”

Part III "Web of Shadow and Light"

a/n: Honestly, I can't begin to express how much your support and kind messages mean to me. I literally started crying when I saw how much love this story received. It means the world to me. Truly, thank you. I'd love to hear your thoughts, and if someone could give me a heads-up on whether the tag list functioned properly, that would be great. Also, apologies for any inconsistencies or logical errors regarding the multiverse or canon theory. I watched the movie but I'm not 100% sure of that's how it works.

Once again, I really do appreciate each and everyone of you. Please, don’t forget to take good care of yourselves and stay hydrated! ILYSM

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[gothamiteeditor]

Tim Drake is my favorite Robin because he’s not only the glue keeping Batman from flying off the rails at some points, but is also actively flying off the rails himself. The League of Assassins never stood a chance. He’s probably wanted in more countries than he’s allowed in, if he disappears that list slowly grows. Not only is he a freaking genius but he also should be feared by his sheer willpower to get anything and everything into his little hands. If it’s to be found out he will find it. The Robin who didn’t have to become Robin for himself, the one who became Robin because someone else needed him to.

Jason Todd is my favorite Robin because he’s a Robin that was so mistreated by his creators and writers that they literally voted for him to die. He dies in every alternate version. He’s not only died but came back stronger, more than once. Sure he was different but that difference allows us, the readers, to see the thoughts and feelings of a Robin who could never be good enough, who still is good enough, because he’s better. The happy Robin who made the mantle magic turned into a Crime Lord who wants nothing more than to ensure no other child goes down the same path he did or at least gives them the help to succeed.

Dick Grayson is my favorite Robin because he lost his parents in a traumatic way Bruce could relate to and still somehow ended up being a better mentor and better leader than Batman himself. Dick who was the Angry Robin who grew up realizing he could still be who he was before his trauma and grief and became Nightwing, a symbol of not just one city but two, and then in his civilian life still took the cities he loves in his hands as his job. A man who watched his little brother die, and come back different and refused to help the man who wouldn’t do anything about it. A man who actually got revenge only for it to be taken back from him. And also in some obscure timeline became a Tyrannical Dictator who wanted to annihilate aliens because his alien wife died but no one really talks about that era…

Damian is my favorite Robin because he defies everything about every Robin we have had. He’s the Robin that had a kill count before he was Robin. The boy who would either become the Demon Head or the Batman, legacies he was promised, but could never achieve with the guidance he was given. The boy who couldn’t understand why Bruce tried to get him to open up and relax because he’d never known that before. The boy who had Jason before Bruce. The Robin with a sword and isn’t afraid to use it and knows how to. From assassin heir to prince of Gotham.

Stephanie was my favorite Robin because she was the Robin who didn’t stay Robin. The Robin who forged her own way really quickly and realized she didn’t need the mantle to make her own difference against her father. The one who would never be one of Bruce’s but always was one of Bruce’s. The Robin who pushed the boundaries of everything Gotham had come to expect from Robins, a powerhouse in her own right and never credited for her role.

(Edited because I originally had said Jason was the only Robin to be mistreated by his writers and fans. This isn’t entirely true so I edited a correction. Truth be told all these characters deserved better.)

[solecize]

  ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ  𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐅𝐀𝐑𝐌𝐇𝐎𝐔𝐒𝐄 | 𝐣𝐮𝐧𝐠𝐤𝐨𝐨𝐤 𝐱 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫

𝐒𝐔𝐌𝐌𝐀𝐑𝐘. every summer on your grandpa's farm was real-life magic to your younger self, who left a piece of her heart in amber valley when the years went on and the town became nothing but a faint childhood memory. soon enough, you become rocked by his death and realize the dead end in your bustling city world. this leads to you making an abrupt decision.

despite knowing nothing but designer purses and the corporate ladder, you uproot your entire life to take over your grandfather's old farm in the town you were desperately trying to remember - alongside a familiar face from your youth that permanently finds his way into your heart. 𝐏𝐀𝐈𝐑𝐈𝐍𝐆. jungkook x reader 𝐖𝐀𝐑𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐒. swearing 𝐖𝐎𝐑𝐃 𝐂𝐎𝐔𝐍𝐓. 5k 𝐍𝐎𝐓𝐄𝐒.  inspired heavily by stardew valley, friends to lovers, childhood friends, small town alternate universe, slice of life, grief, growing up.

part one: the storm, the envelope and the granddaughter ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ   ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ   ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ next. masterlist

i. the storm

  for the first time in a long time, your eyes flutter open to the golden curtains of the sun and not the blaring noise of a royalty-free iphone alarm. the rays are harsh and welcoming all at once, as you blink away the stinging sensation and adjust to the muddy path ahead. there was no mistake about it, the town withstood an unforgiving storm last night. however, mud coating the wheels of your bus seemed to be the only indication, as you became distracted with the kiss of summer from the skies above and the clear cerulean painted across cotton candy clouds. 

  memories of amber valley became bygone over the years, as memories always do. but, amber valley seemed to be a long lost chase you haven’t won in years and the older you became, the town disappeared entirely. it was like the smell of your favourite scented markers and the feeling rumbling at the pit of your stomach on the first day of school - nothing but faint ideas from your childhood. 

  “we’re not going to visit grandpa this summer?”

  at age twelve, you couldn’t fathom missing out on the midsummer festival or being away from your horse, marshmallow. for that age, absolutely everything felt like the end of the world, whether it was missing an episode of your favourite show or not getting an invite to a classmate’s sleepover. it was a little different for you, though, as you looked at your dad’s dull eyes. they’d been dull since the divorce went through that february. they never shone since and that’s how you knew things weren’t going to be the same.

  he shook his head at you, but never met your eyes. “no, i’m sorry. he’s coming up for to the city at the end of july, though - “ it would be later in life, precisely at age 25 and months removed from your grandfather’s funeral, when you would learn that he only began coming up to the city to regularly see a hepatologist, “ - so you can see him on your birthday.”

  you did, in fact, see grandpa for your birthday and for the rest of the years to come. he laughed with his whole body and his smile never failed to reach his eyes when he gave you updates on the farm and amber valley. grandpa did his best, but time passing came with you losing your bright eyes whenever he spoke fondly of his town. it was inevitable, when the big city enveloped your teenage self and you became more concerned with interests that come with the turn of youth - clothes, parties and boys.

  now, there was absolutely nothing wrong with any of those ideas. you stood by this at heart, embracing femininity and defending it alongside your love for science and life. you grew up and began wearing high heels to dates, to university lectures and finally, to your 9-5 on the busiest corner of your city’s financial district. you had long outgrown your riding boots, likely tucked away at the back of your closet in your studio apartment. you began just politely smiling and nodding when your grandfather shared local amber valley gossip about individuals who were just names to you now, also tucked away at the back of your mind.

  even though you eventually grew past the age where you needed your parents’ permission to make the trek over to amber valley, past the period of time where your mother refused to speak to your father to coordinate your trip to see your grandfather, the idea of returning to the valley never crossed your mind. like summer camp, it was something you thought you didn’t need anymore and preferred spending your school-less months with your friends in your hometown, working away at your first part-time job and getting your first ever drivers’ license. a seventeen year old city girl wouldn’t want to waste her summer at her grandfather’s old farm.

  “mrs. oh’s husband just left the valley for his deployment overseas. may god watch over that family.” it was one of the last times you saw grandpa, late on christmas eve when everyone else went to bed. your mom, her new husband and your little sister had bade their goodnight’s by 10pm and left the two of you sipping honey lemon tea by the fireplace. 

  your mom’s new husband made a lot of money. that was one of the first things you noticed about him and it was so different from the two bedroom inner city apartment you were raised in. it was certainly different from your grandpa’s farmhouse, where the television only got three channels and all of the windows never fully opened because they would fall apart entirely if you pulled too far. you and your grandpa mused these thoughts on their white leather couch, when the conversation slowly moved back to how the old farm was going.

  you tried to sound interested. “oh really?” the reality was you couldn’t remember if the oh family was the one that ran the general store or the one couple who seemed to be constantly fighting, on the verge of divorce.

  grandpa grunted in response. “mhm. thankfully, they have jungkook helping out around the store. ah, the wasted potential with that boy, but such a kind heart.”

  “jungkook..?”

  “oh, you remember him! the two of you would always bike by the beach,” he said. “i’ll never forget, you two would always come back and show me the seashells you collected that day. always made a competition out of everything.”

  he chuckled and you joined in, hiding the despondence for being unable to recall. grandpa didn’t seem to notice, though, continuing to discuss amber valley. cranberries and pumpkins were the strongest crops of the fall, mayor kim was re-elected for a third time and something about the town soon getting their first chain convenience store since amber valley’s founding. then, grandpa’s face lost his smile and a serious expression formed on his ageing features. he asked you about your job and how life was for you.

  by now, you’re 22 and working an entry-level position with nothing but a bachelor’s in your pocket and a hunger to climb the corporate ranks. like any fresh college graduate, there was no meaning to life if it weren’t for paying overpriced rent, mimosa sundays, dating apps, and maybe remembering to go to the gym every now and then. the life you lived was loud from city traffic and heavy from looming student debt. 

  “my job is..okay. i’m just starting out and i’m really just trying to do my best,” you replied.

  grandpa, still with a serious look, placed a gentle hand on your shoulder. “it gets stressful, doesn’t it?”

  you opened your mouth to respond again, but failed to find your voice this time. your stress was found in a growing caffeine addiction and getting too tired to give your parents a call on the weekends. adulthood was everything you expected and nothing you expected. you secured a job that you dedicated four years of studies to and just like that, was pushed into a world of hustle and bustle and nothing in between. once this realization settled, you tried to hide it by cracking a faint smile. grandpa saw through it, though - he always did. 

  “well, darling, if it ever does get too stressful..” you became confused when grandpa reached into his back pocket and pulled out a sealed envelope. he handed it to you and you turned it over, finding no writing other than your name in your grandfather’s decorative penmanship.

  you asked, “what is this, grandpa?”

  he finally smiled again, but shook his head. “a gift. it’s yours for when you find that you need a break from the challenges of life.”

  grandpa only gave gifts from the heart. only, this time, you wouldn’t know that he was giving you his entire heart and soul. you had taken this envelope and slid it in the drawer of your desk at home, where you tirelessly worked after hours, even after returning from the office. it was hidden away, but always poked your curiosity at the back of your mind. however, you restrained from opening it, even when it eventually became one of the last things you had from grandpa. 

  ii. the envelope

the only time you took the pristine envelope out of your desk was on the day of his funeral. 

  it was no surprise that grandpa wanted to be buried in amber valley, his home for over fifty years and his birthplace. it was once your heart’s home, too, once upon a time when you were a child skipping rocks by the town river and rode your horse through mustard-hued sunflower fields. for that, you were nervous to return and confront the realities of your coming of age in the face of a town that only lived in your memories, sickeningly reminding you of the years that have gone past.

  wedged between your mother and father who had only began speaking to one another as of three years ago, you stared blankly at the onyx coffin that, in about 20 seconds, was gone from your sight and lowered into the ground. it happened all too quick. you clenched your arm tighter, squeezing the envelope tucked underneath and protecting it from the rain. your very last summer in the valley was marked by constant rain and wind and once again, you greet the town amidst storms.

  the drive was quick, having gone directly to service after the three hour drive from the city. you couldn’t make much of the town through the gloom and suddenly, the valley was so much colder than you remember. like your being since your grandfather’s passing, it lost its colour. it was unwelcoming and felt like a punishment for your neglect over the years. amber valley was unforgiving as much as it was perfection. 

  you couldn’t make out much of the attendees through the gloom, either. many of them appeared absolutely devastated, sobbing and cold-faced at the goodbye of a beloved neighbour. your grandfather was always well-liked amongst the townspeople, helping out his friends with mundane tasks whenever he had free time away from the farm and shared his warm personality at community events. this was affirmed through the stories that were shared about him at the service, recognizable for his distinct good heart, but seemed so far away for you, having detached yourself from amber valley.

  “oh, an unfamiliar face! what’s your name, dear?” a man around your father’s age with salt and pepper hair was handing out hor d'oeuvres at the post-service gathering in the church basement. he seemed to be the most upbeat one in the room - though, it wasn’t saying much, considering the occasion.

  you told him your name, while looking around for either one of your parents. being in a room of strangers wasn’t your favourite activity, especially following a funeral. the last thing you wanted to do was socialize, feeling like you weren’t even in your own body all day. while you were saddened and to an extent, numb, you knew your grandfather’s passing was coming up. his illness was going to catch up to him and you spent months mentally preparing yourself for the day you would have to say goodbye. despite not being surprised, your grief was accompanied by the painful nostalgia of the town that raised you in the summertime.

  the man looked at you, appearing to search your face for something. “you’re the old man’s granddaughter? bunny?”

  the nickname almost made you flinch, having not heard it in so long that you were surprised you recognized it. you began searching the man’s face, too, also looking for some signs of familiarity. for so many years of your childhood, you were almost exclusively called this nickname by adults and friends alike.

  there wasn’t room for a response when the man pulled over another individual by his sleeve, merely attempting to walk by in peace. this one was a man closer to your age and you were too distracted by the glisten of his facial piercings to scan for recognition. the second thing you noticed the adornment of tattoos peeked from below his sleeve and trailed onto his hands. the third and final thing you noticed about him was how gentle his hands were. this was realized because the sight of this man made you drop whatever was in your own hands in surprise.

  the only thing you were holding was your grandfather’s envelope, no longer pristine and stained with a few raindrops. you noticed that you had been clutching onto this keepsake the entire service. you bent down to reach for it, when he also attempted to make the save for you. your hands brushed and you looked up at his eyes, suddenly taken away by confusion.

  “jungkook, you remember bunny?” 

  you forgot the older man was in your presence, as he was the one who pulled jungkook over in the first place. jungkook. this was the little boy you spent hours running around with all those years ago. although you seemed to forget when your grandfather had last brought him up, those moments began to rain down on you upon taking sight of him for the first time in years. you had barely looked, but it hit you.

  jungkook handed the envelope over to you and you cleared your throat, standing up properly and trying not to wobble on your favourite high heels. he also stood up and seemed to mirror your confusion, not understanding who was the person in front of him. you muttered a thank you and fixed an imaginary snag on your cardigan.

  “i just go by my first name now,” you said through a tight smile to both men, still feeling like your gut was punched in after hearing the nickname that your grandpa coined,

  “oh, of course. you’re all grown up now!” the man exclaimed. “do you remember me? mr. kim?”

  the truth was that you didn’t remember him by face, but instead remembered that your father mentioned a man of this name being the mayor. if he was the same person, mr. kim’s father was the previous town mayor, as well, and was your grandfather’s best friend before his own untimely passing. given his larger than life presence, it was same to assume that the man in front of you was the tiny valley’s politician.

  “mayor kim, of course.” you hoped you sounded convincing.

  jungkook was still standing to the side, the same confused look etched on his face. “you’re the girl that tricked me into eating mud that one time?” he blurted, as if an imaginary lightblub flashed above his head

  that took you by surprise and you almost snorted. “i didn’t trick you, you just went for it.” the quick snap back also took you by surprise, having left behind a bit of your normal self in the city before coming down to the valley for the funeral, as well as your instant recollection.

  somehow, this memory was clear as day and you could remember jungkook as a seven year old with a horrible bowl cut and missing teeth. you wore light-up sneakers and candy bracelets that day, sitting on the porch of your grandfather’s farmhouse with him and were exchanging dares to see who would give up first. maybe that was why your grandpa said you two were - 

  “ - always competitive,” jungkook said.

  although the two of you surely shared countless more memories, it was this one that stood against the test of time and it showed when it immediately hit you with a laugh. it took jungkook a second, too, but he eventually gave in and joined with his own. you hadn’t realized it until his swollen eyes became crescents in his giggles, but he seemed to be having his own trouble of a day.

  “there it is, jungkook! nice to see you finally cheer up a bit,” mayor kim encouraged and jungkook’s chuckle immediately fell back to a straight face, almost intentionally. you suspected that this was not the first time today that mayor kim was on his case.

  before mayor kim could add on, his attention gravitated towards something at the other end of the room. he sighed and set down the hor d'oeuvres, checking the time on his wrist dressed with gold. 

  “oh, i’m being called over,” he sighed and turned back to you. “it was a pleasure seeing you again, i hope to see you around town before you have to go back to the city.”

  swiftly, mayor kim weaved his way through the crowd and just like that, it was just you and jungkook.

  you took this opportunity to give jungkook an actual once over, comparing it to the faint image you had of this man from when you were children. undeniably, he was handsome, but you were more concerned with the fact that this was still the little boy you spent your summers with. he grew into his face and you didn’t realize that you accidentally said this out loud.

  jungkook looked as much taken aback as he was amused. “oh, you got jokes, huh? that’s what you learned growing up in the city?” he teased.

  “i didn’t mean it like that - “ you started, but he waved you off with a laugh.

  the conversation was a bit overwhelming, considering you were still stuck in a church basement following your grandfather’s funeral service and could not locate your parents anywhere. jungkook recognized this in your face and eased into a sympathetic smile. somehow, you felt okay enough around him to drop your tense shoulders for the first time that day.

  “i’m sorry, i should be giving my condolences. your grandpa was a loved man by everyone here.”

  looking around the room, it was clear. everyone had shared fond stories and were making toasts in his honour. you felt out of place, but more so because you felt like you should have been joining in with the attendees. instead of being a kind of extended family that once saw you grow up, these people were strangers. you weren’t sure if anyone recognized you, having tried to lay low and not draw any attention to yourself. the only times you seemed to have caught anyone’s eye was when you were sat beside your parents at the burial, but no one dared approach you then.

  “you were like a son to him, too,” you offered. it was true, given the amount of time you spent with jungkook as a child, maybe even going so far to call him your best friend at one point. 

  he let out a long breath, eyes moving to the enlarged portrait of your grandfather propped up on the wall. “that’s nice of you to say. i miss him already. i’m sure you feel the same.”

  you learned quickly that, in light of your disappearance from your grandfather’s farm over the years, jungkook was the one who began helping out and taking over what were your old chores. your grandfather was physically able, but he kept the young boy around for company and made feeding the chickens an excuse to have his presence. hearing this made your heart drop, feeling an unknown sense of regret that you didn’t know existed when it came to the farm.

  “it’s not like that!” jungkook cut in, seeing the tears well up in your eyes. “he would always talk about the two of you going on adventures in the city and how he loved spending time with you whenever he came up to visit. he knew that’s where your heart was.”

  you sniffled a bit, having already promised yourself to limit your breakdowns to two that day, and took a second to reel it in. “sorry…i don’t mean to - “ you sighed. 

  “it’s okay. it’s weird being back here, huh?” 

  it was weird. it was so damn weird that the air of amber valley stuck with you for the months following, like bubblegum in your hair and a melody on loop in your head. you couldn’t shake it. not when you were working an extra 20 hours overtime in a week, not when you became stuck in traffic everyday, and especially not when your boyfriend of three years dumped you because you “changed” so much since the start of the year.

  and, it was true. you changed a lot since your conversation with your grandfather on christmas eve, with his words echoing about the stressors of life everyday. it opened your eyes to how much you were really struggling and it wasn’t simply you who had changed, but your outlook on life. ever since you were twelve years old, everything shifted to the fastlane and years breezed by you in the blink of an eye. everything moved so fast and you never got a chance to catch your breath. one moment, you were 15, sneaking a sip of your first ever drink, and the next, you were 24 and drinking straight out of the wine bottle on a tuesday evening. you wondered how you suddenly found yourself jaded at a 9-5 black hole of a job that sucked out your energy and passions. 

  these days made you think about what truly deserved your energy and what truly were your passions. did you like your everyday routine of gluing on false lashes and slipping on pantyhose? were you happy, alone in your apartment with not even a cat to talk to? your parents had their own worlds and new lives to deal with and long stopped asking why you never call. your friends were co-workers, having no time to meet anyone new. you didn’t even have time for hobbies, given how tired you were every time you finished work and the amount of overtime you did.

  one thursday night, you arrived home from work at 10:13pm and decided you had enough. it was constraining, nearly strangling you with exhaustion everyday. you spent the entire day wondering was “it” was and when you kicked off your loafers by your doorstep, it hit you. this was what your grandfather was talking about.

  almost walking with fear of what was to come, you creeped over to your desk. after your grandpa’s funeral, his envelope no longer lived underneath manila folders in your drawer, but found a place on the surface. you kept it there, as it mocked you every time you opened up your work laptop after hours. you didn’t realize why you left it in plain sight, until this moment when you came to terms with the fact that you were reminding yourself of him.

  “if you’re reading this, you must be in dire need of change. the same thing happened to me, long ago. i’d lost sight of what mattered most in life. . . real connections with other people and nature. so i dropped everything and moved to the place where i truly belong.”

  it took you precisely two weeks to pack up your things after opening the envelope. nobody could convince you not to. your mother complained that you were wasting your degree and your father had concerns about the massive role you were about to take on all by yourself. it didn’t matter.

  two weeks later, you met amber valley and its sunlight for the first time in years, pretending that the storm ceased and the sun shone to welcome you back. 

  iii. the granddaughter

the sun faded quickly when you realized the bus dropped you off on a plain dirt road in the middle of nowhere. the movers took the rest of your belongings separately, so you were left with nothing but a duffel bag and a cell phone that couldn’t find any signal.

  “oops,” was all you could say. you didn’t think it was a crazy idea, that there would be service at the very least.

  it took you a few moments to let the situation settle in and for you to realize that you were abandoned in a place that was unfamiliar to you. was it unfamiliar? you looked around, seeing nothing but fields on fields and accepted that there was no way you could even try to remember where you were, even with the help of the maps app. you knew you made it to town, but you were certainly left at the farthest point of the borders. 

  and then, you heard it.

  it was over at least ten years since you last rode, but your ears perked up at the sound of a horse’s gallop naturally. you had to squint, but it was unmistakable.

  they were going in the other direction and they were going fast, so you had to think fast. you tried yelling and waving your arms, but quickly saw that it was useless. so, you dropped your bg and brought your hands to your mouth, releasing the loudest whistle that your vocal chords could handle.  

  the horse and its rider kept going and for a few seconds, you thought you lost hope. but, then, as you were about to pick up your bag in shame, you watched them take a wide turn back around. they were headed to you.

  you waved your arms back and forth again, affirming that you needed their attention. as they came closer, you could make out a figure of a man with chestnut brown hair peeking out underneath his cowboy hat. he wore medium wash, stained jeans and a plain white t-shirt. 

  “that was the loudest whistle i’ve ever heard,” he hollered, drawing closer to you.

  you shook your head bashfully. “didn’t even know i remembered how to do that.”

  “pretty sure the whole town heard. my name is namjoon, are you visiting someone here?”

  likely a few years older than you, you tried to recall someone named namjoon from your memories. his appearance didn’t ring a bell, so you were searching your brain for his name or if you heard it from somewhere.

  you told him your name and then squinted at him, pausing for several moments before speaking again. “are you. . .joonie?”  

his eyebrows shot up immediately, looking at you like he couldn’t understand what language you were speaking. “pardon me?”

  joonie. he was mayor kim’s eldest son, who was sent to a fancy arts camp every summer when you were younger. you only met him a few times throughout the years, as he often arrived back the same week you were due to leave your grandpa to go back to your parents, but one feature stuck in your mind always. his dimples. you thought you recognized namjoon’s polite smile and piecing it together with his name seemed to be the key. 

  “i’m pretty sure you’re mayor kim’s kid. i’m bad with faces, but you’re joonie, aren’t you?” the confidence in your voice was fuelled by the fact that no one really left amber valley. it was the kind of place where families would raise their children with the kids they grew up with themselves. 

  namjoon seemed to still be calculating your appearance in his head when you heard the faint noise of galloping once again. the two of you looked over to see another person on a horse who was looking around the field, likely looking for namjoon. the man in question brought his hand to his mouth and released a whistle similar to yours - though, you did gloat silently because yours was, in fact, louder.

  still, it was enough to get the person’s attention and they finally made eye contact with the two of you. they began approaching and you could make out that it was a man’s figure. still, even with how small of a town amber valley was, you were surprised to see who it was.

  “jungkook!”

  “namjoon, i just spent fucking 15 minutes looking for you - “

  you tried to keep your expression neutral when you saw that it was actually jungkook on the horse. he wore an all-black outfit of cargo pants and a wife beater tank that exposed his tattooed arms. it made it hard to keep your expression the same.

“oh, hey. did you come to collect something from your grandpa’s property?” jungkook suddenly ignored his previous frustration at namjoon, cleared his throat and dropped his voice by an octave, in addition to cutting his voice’s volume by a cool half. he swiftly hopped off his horse, too cleanly to be casual.

  namjoon’s confusion only doubled, darting eyes between the two of you. “sorry, have you guys met?” he didn’t miss the way that jungkook straightened his shoulders without even trying to be subtle.

  you missed it, though, having cut away your stare to double check if your phone managed to get any signal. none. sighing, you shook your head at jungkook, as he began explaining to namjoon.

  “ - we called her bunny. remember bunny?” he nudged towards you.

  namjoon looked back at you again and concern formed. “you’re the granddaughter. oh, you were at the funeral - i’m sorry about your loss. your grandpa was such a great person.”

  you put on the same tight smile every time someone mentioned him. the worst of the grief came back on some days, but you learned how to manage it day by day as time went on. jungkook watched you do so and cleared his throat.

  “the old bus stop is the worst,” he interrupted, gesturing towards the tiny sign that indicated that it was in service. “people get lost all the time when they arrive. well, we don’t really have a lot of people visiting by bus - “

  you couldn’t help but cut in. “i’m not visiting.”

  the two men gave you and your single chanel duffel bag a blank stare and wondered if the idea was so hard to believe. it was for your parents, who both thought you caught them on some sort of prank show when you told them about grandpa’s envelope. you were wearing platform mary janes and a leather skirt in the dead of the june sun, so maybe they had a reason to be confused.

  there was a moment of silence, so you decided to speak again. “yeah, i’m not visiting. um, i’ve decided to take over my grandfather’s farm. i’m moving to amber valley permanently.”

[seonghrtz]

𝒇𝒂𝒊𝒓𝒚 𝒕𝒂𝒍𝒆 𝒔𝒆𝒓𝒊𝒆𝒔 ✶ nanami kento

꒰ first sight ! ꒱ an invitation to a palace ball gives a young woman hope of reuniting with the dashing stranger she met in the woods.

❛❛ an unlikely encounter in the woods between two desperate souls led to the blossoming of a beautiful friendship ⸻ or perhaps something more. ❜❜

pairing. prince!nanami kento x (cinderella)fem!reader.

contents. cinderella alternative universe, fluff, slight angst, friends to lovers, he fell first he fell harder, royal!au, mentions of death, occ nanami.

amy's note. hi sweetie, this is amy!!! this story was more inspired by the cinderella live action movie (2015). i love this movie and have watched it so many times with my mom that i know it by heart hihihi. also, i had to include the iconic scenes of cinderella and the prince in the garden and the stepmother breaking the crystal slipper!!! and one quote from jane austen's pride and prejudice. in short, just nanami being the prince we deserve!!! i hope you enjoy it and have a good read <3

comments and reblogs are very much appreciated!

𝕺𝐍𝐂𝐄 𝐔𝐏𝐎𝐍 𝐀 𝐓𝐈𝐌𝐄, there was a beautiful, sweet girl called Y/n. This little girl lived a quiet life with her family. Her father was a merchant who traveled frequently and her mother stayed at home, due to her fragile health, teaching her daughter and taking care of her. Although it was a simple life, Y/n was happy and that was enough for her.

However, fate doesn't always have a happy ending for everyone, and her mother eventually passed away due to health complications. And with her last breath, she wished that her daughter would always be kind and gentle, that she would have courage and always want to do good, even when evil tries to prevail. And Y/n promised her mother that her kindness would prevail in the most difficult moments of her life and that she would live a good life.

Not long after her mother's death, the girl's father decided to remarry, looking for a way for his daughter to have a mother figure, not to replace her biological mother, but someone who could be by her side when he couldn't be. Things didn't go well in the family, her stepmother and stepsisters were mean and abusive, taking advantage of her kindness when her father was away on business. And then everything fell apart when the girl's father had an accident on one of his trips and died, leaving his daughter at the mercy of her stepmother and stepsisters' selfish will.

Y/n was reduced to a maid instead of a family member. She was moved from her room to the attic and had to do the housework, washing and cooking all day. She watched as everything her mother believed in and liked gradually disappeared, while things became more her stepmother's style.

One day, tired of everything, the young woman rode into the forest. The wind in her hair and the tears drying on her face felt a little liberating. That same day, she crossed paths with a young man named Kento, who wasn't having his best day either.

An unlikely encounter in the woods between two desperate souls led to the blossoming of a beautiful friendship ⸻ or perhaps something more.

ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ ㅤ ✶

Y/n awoke with the sunrise. After years, the young woman had become accustomed to the routine and every morning she rose early to prepare breakfast for her stepmother and stepsisters and then set about cleaning the house. At the very least, doing the chores around the house kept her mind busy.

Just as she was preparing the materials to clean the house, a knock on the front door echoed throughout the house. Y/n left the bucket of water she was holding in a corner and went to the door, surprised by the sudden visit. It was too early for people to leave their homes, and the postman had come the day before.

"Good morning" the young woman smiled politely at the stranger in front of her "What can I do for you?"

"Good morning, miss." The young man fumbled with the bag hanging next to his body and pulled out an envelope, holding it out to the young woman. Y/n took the envelope and watched as the boy said goodbye and walked away without saying another word.

The young woman looked surprised, but shrugged her shoulders. She made her way to the pantry where her stepmother was having breakfast and asked to be excused before entering the room.

"What did I say about coming into the living room while I'm having breakfast?" her stepmother said with a harsh tone.

"Excuse me, but a boy just came by and left this envelope." The young woman placed the envelope on the table and walked away, watching as her stepmother picked it up and opened it.

Y/n waited for a reaction and was startled when the older woman in front of her suddenly stood up from the breakfast table and gave several quick and shouting orders.

"WHAT DO YOU THINK YOU'RE DOING, GO WAKE UP MY DAUGHTERS! WE HAVE A ROYAL BALL TO ATTEND AND WE NEED THE BEST DRESSES!”

"A royal ball?" she asked confused.

"The King is giving a ball to find a wife for his son, who will inherit the kingdom, now run along because I need to go into town to find the three best dresses in town! One of my daughters is coming back married that night!"

"Oh, ma'am, that's very kind of you!"

"What?" The stepmother put her hands on her waist.

"The dress..."

"Oh dear, and who says the dress is for you?" the older woman laughed with glee, "Two will be for my beautiful daughters and the other will be for me, I will not spend my money to buy something for you to wear to the ball."

"But could I go to the ball?" she asked hopefully.

"Um..." the stepmother looked the young woman up and down, "If you've done all your chores for the day and have a dress, maybe you could go."

"Ah, thank you, ma'am!" Y/n smiled excitedly at the idea of going to a royal ball.

"Now go wake up my daughters!"

After waking her step-sisters, the young woman watched as the house descended into chaos. The two sisters screamed excitedly at the idea of the royal ball, while their stepmother ordered them to go to the city. Y/n felt true peace only when the house was deserted, just her and the animals in it. And without further ado, the young woman smiled to herself and ran to the stable. Luckily, her stepmother had left just when she had a secret appointment.

On the day she received the news of her father's death, and on the same day she rode aimlessly into the forest, Y/n had met Kento, a young man who had happened to receive tragic news and had ridden into the forest to relax. After the unexpected meeting, the young woman and the man agreed to meet every day in the same place at the same time to talk about their tragedies and successes. However, Y/n had kept these meetings secret, afraid that if her stepmother found out, she would forbid her to meet the boy she knew so little about.

With a slight smile on her face, the young woman rode to the meeting point and was surprised to see Kento waiting for her. Usually, she was the first to arrive, but the euphoria over the news of the ball had delayed her a few minutes.

"Miss." Kento smiled at the sight of her and helped her off the horse.

"Ken, I'm sorry I'm late!" she said, smoothing down the unruly strands that had been messed up by the wind "The invitation to the royal ball ended up stirring things up at home."

"Speaking of the royal ball, will you be attending?" Kento tried to hide the slight hint of hope in his words.

"I still have my doubts about that," she sighed, sitting down on a log next to her horse. "My stepmother said that if I managed to finish all my chores for the day, and if I had a dress, I could go to the ball."

"If they treat you like that, why don't you leave?"

"It's not that easy...not to mention that it's not that bad, other places can be more hostile."

"I see..." the young man sits down next to the woman, "I'd like you to go to the ball so we can have at least one dance.”

The young man's words made her laugh.

"Then I hope you'll save a dance for me."

"I'm saving all the dances for you, you're the only one I want to dance with on the ball night." Kento's words made Y/n feel shy.

"I think there will be many more interesting ladies to dance with." The young woman shifted her gaze to the trees that made up the scenery around her.

"I have no interest in other ladies, none of them can compare to you."

"Kento! You shouldn't say that!"

"Why not? My mother taught me to be honest and I'm just telling the truth," a small smile appeared on his lips.

"Maybe you shouldn't be so direct with your honesty..." The young woman's face burned at the statement of the man next to her.

"Well, I wish you'd come to the ball so we could see each other outside of this forest for once."

"And dance the night away?" she laughed lightly.

"And dance the night away," Kento repeated her question, but this time as a concrete statement, leaving no doubt about his intentions with the young woman on the night of the royal ball.

ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ ㅤ ✶

If Y/n said she didn't expect her stepmother and stepsisters to make her day the busiest of her life, running around doing chores and being responsible for every little detail of the preparations for the royal ball, she would be lying.

She'd woken up earlier than usual to get her mother's gown ready for the royal ball, but it wasn't long before her stepmother started barking orders, causing her gown to be forgotten. Cleaning the stairs, feeding the animals in the barn, helping her step-sisters put on their huge, garish party dresses, helping them fix their hair... among other things, Y/n had no time to finish her own dress.

Perhaps her meeting with Kento should only take place in the forest, hidden in secret. There would be no other way, not if her stepmother still had the power to dictate orders and interfere in her life as if she couldn't make her own decisions.

When she finished climbing the stairs that led to the attic where her bedroom had become, the young girl was surprised to open the door and find her mother's dress mended, brand new.

"How…?" Y/n approached the dress, delighted, "Oh, it doesn't matter, thank you to whoever made it!" She smiled excitedly, now she could meet Kento and dance with him all night, just as she had said she would if she could attend the ball.

The young woman took a quick shower to get ready for the ball. There wasn't much to prepare, she fixed her dress to her body, put on her pink shoes with low heels, applied pink lipstick and put on her mother's pearl necklace before fixing her hair. She didn't have much, just as she didn't need much. Y/n was just happy to be at the ball and to have the opportunity to meet her friend. And she preferred to keep it simple.

But her happiness was short-lived...

When she came down to the parlor just as her stepmother and daughters were about to leave for the ball. Looking at the girl in her ball gown, with a happy expression on her face, Madame Tremaine saw the perfect moment to break her like fragile old porcelain.

"What's that?" Her stepmother's superior look didn't intimidate Y/n.

"I'm ready to go to the royal ball!"

"You? The ball?" Drizella laughed anasally, "But not even on the day the pigs fly!"

"Mom, I don't want to be seen with the maid! Look at these rags! They don't even compare to our fancy dresses!" Anastasia commented, looking up and down at the young woman in front of her.

"But you promised I could go if I had a dress and finished my homework," the young woman said, remembering the agreement they had made when they were invited to the ball.

"I don't remember promising you anything," Tremaine circled Y/n like a predator circles its prey. "You must have misunderstood, my dear. Never in my life would I go to such an important ball with a filthy, ridiculous little girl like you." The woman held the young woman's chin tightly, forcing her to look into her cold, hateful eyes.

"I don't understand... I've never done anything to you..." Y/n mumbled, her eyes watering as much from the force her stepmother put on her jaw as from the words spoken to her.

"You're an insignificant, annoying little thing, you know that?" Tremaine let go of Y/n's chin and smiled sideways before reaching for the pearl necklace that adorned the young woman's neck and ripping it off with her own hand, startling her. "Oops!" the woman smiled as she tore the sleeve and front of the dress, making her daughters laugh at the scene and help their mother destroy the dress, "Come on girls, we can't be late for the ball.”

Y/n felt her body shake, and when they were gone, the young woman ran quickly, sobbing, to the garden ⸻ the place where she had so many memories with her family, with her mother, and which Tremaine had never been able to change. She sat down on a bench and began to cry, not just for what had happened a few moments ago, but for everything she had been through these past few years without her family.

"But what is a beautiful girl doing crying instead of having fun at the ball?" The voice of a mysterious person startled Y/n, who was trapped in her own world of memories.

"Who... Who are you?" The young woman looked up, startled, and rubbed her eyes to wipe away the tears.

"Your fairy godmother, dear! Or rather, your Fairy Godfather!"

"What?" The young woman looked at the person before her. He was tall, with white hair, blue eyes hidden behind glasses, and a pair of large shiny wings.

"You can call me Gojo if you prefer, now come on, hurry up, we have a ball to attend!" Gojo said hurriedly, pulling Y/n to get up from the bench.

"But I can't go to the ball like this!"

"What do you mean?" His glasses slipped down his nose.

"My dress is torn, I can't go like this."

"And why didn't you say so before?" Gojo raised an eyebrow, "Do you mind a few casual changes?" He pulled his wand from his pocket and smiled when he saw the young woman nod, "Then let's go!"

Gojo scratched his throat before dictating the dress, which completely transformed. The pink quickly turned to blue, and the single layer became several. The dress became voluminous, shiny and elegant, fit for a princess ⸻ and Y/n couldn't help but feel like one in that wonderful dress.

"Let me see your feet," Gojo ordered.

"What? My feet? Why do you want to see my feet?"

"Are you crazy thinking I won't do my full job? You need a proper shoe for that dress!"

Without questioning the fairy, Y/n lifted the hem of her dress to reveal her pink shoes, which in less than a few seconds had been transformed into a beautiful pair of crystal heels.

"Are they crystal?" the young woman asked in shock.

"The real question is, why not crystal? It's just a little gift, honey," Gojo smiled sideways, "Now hurry up, or you'll miss the first dance! Do you have any pumpkins?"

"Pumpkin? There are some over there." Y/n pointed to one of the corners of the garden.

"Wonderful. We have a pumpkin and some mice, perfect for a carriage and its horses." Gojo smiled proudly before casting another spell, transforming the pumpkin into a huge, detailed carriage and the nearby mice into majestic horses, "Now let's go, you can't be late!" He pulled Y/n into the carriage.

"But what about my stepmother and my step-sisters? They'll recognize me when they see me at the ball!"

"Don't worry about that!" Gojo tapped the young girl's head with his wand, "And remember, sweetie, all this magic here will only last until midnight, no longer."

"Until midnight?" Y/n smiled sweetly, "That's long enough, I don't need more than that. Thank you for everything you've done for me."

"No thanks, sweetie, I'm your fairy godfather, it's just my job. Now go to the ball and have fun, break it out!"

"All right!" Y/n laughed, "Thanks again!"

ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ ㅤ ✶

Y/n was late.

She realized this when she finished climbing the endless stairs that led to the entrance of the ballroom and found the doors closed.

The young woman took a deep breath before opening the doors, allowing a glimpse of the stairs that would lead to the dance floor and where the other guests were gathered. She bowed when she saw the king on a throne at the top of the hall and walked quietly down the stairs, but the people began to spread out, forming a corridor from one side of the hall to the other.

Noticing the person on the other side, the young woman smiled and walked excitedly toward the person in the middle of the hall.

"Ken," Y/n smiled at the sight of the blonde.

"You came." Kento smiled, lost in the beauty of the woman before him.

"You promised me a dance," she smiled at the memory of their last encounter in the forest.

"Then I would like... I mean... allow me the greatest of pleasures by granting me the honor of letting you lead this... first..."

"Dance?" the young woman said, completing the prince's request.

"Yes, dance." Kento smiled awkwardly with a blush on his cheeks and ears as he saw the woman before him nod in agreement.

Gently pulling her by the waist and holding one of her hands, Kento led the dance as soon as the music began, whirling her around the hall. The young prince held her tightly, afraid that this moment would be one of his dreams, for he had found her fragile in the forest at a time when his own heart was fragile.

"Everyone is looking at you." Y/n mumbled sheepishly as she noticed the eyes of the guests watching them dance around the ballroom.

"You couldn't be more wrong." Kento laughed slightly, "They're looking at you."

When the music for the first dance ended, there was no waiting for the next dance to begin. Soon, the ballroom floor was filled with couples happily dancing to the lively music of the orchestra.

"Come with me." Kento whispered in Y/n's ear and led her out of the room.

"So... you're the prince?" The young woman asked even though it was as obvious as sunlight. She wanted an excuse to strike up a conversation as they walked to wherever Kento wanted to take her.

"Not the Prince, but one of the princes that exist in the world," Kento said awkwardly, "There are several... not just me..."

"But aren't you an apprentice, as you told me when we first met?"

"Yes, I'm an apprentice monarch who is still learning his trade." Nanami's words made Y/n laugh briefly, "First of all, I should apologize. Please forgive me for my lies, I imagined you would treat me differently if you knew I was the prince of these lands, I thought you were a good honest girl and now I have proof that you really are."

"So... no more surprises?" the young woman asks the boy, holding out her hand and showing him her little finger.

"No more surprises." Kento gently intertwined his little finger with the young woman's, wishing the world could stop right then and there. "This way, I promise we'll be right there," he said as he led her through the castle's vast garden.

"Won't they miss you at the ball?"

"Maybe," he shrugged, "but I'm not planning on going back just yet."

"Is there a problem?"

“If I go back now, they'll try to push me towards a lady of their choosing." Nanami said dejectedly, maybe he didn't want to talk about his problems, not on such a magical night. "They want me to marry for advantage.”

"Well, I think you should rule your heart," the young woman said with a slight smile.

"Perhaps, but I must listen to and obey the king's wishes."

"He's your father, Kento, I'm sure he'll understand your point of view, you just need the right time"

"I've never shown this place to anyone before," Kento said, changing the subject when they reached the spot he wanted to show the young woman. "It's a secret garden, I thought you might like it.”

"I love it!" Y/n smiled as she explored the area until she came to a swing attached to a tree.

"Please," the young prince said, motioning for her to sit on the swing as soon as he noticed her gaze.

"I don't know if I should," the young woman said shyly.

"Yes, you should."

"No, I shouldn't."

"Yes, you should."

"No."

"Yes!"

"Okay." She shrugged, gave in and sat down on the swing, and Nanami soon began to push her gently.

Y/n had as much fun as Nanami. They'd never met outside the confines of the forest, and even after so many surprises that beautiful night, they couldn't help but feel the magic ⸻ and love ⸻ in the air. There, at that moment, Nanami Kento wasn't a prince about to be thrown to the first rich princess who would sign a contract favorable to the kingdoms, and Y/n wasn't the maid of her stepmother and stepsisters who was constantly being abused. They were just themselves, without their titles, without what defined them, they were just two souls in love, enjoying the time they had left.

When Y/n's crystal shoe accidentally came off her foot, Nanami quickly stopped pushing her on the swing and crouched down in front of her, taking the shoe in his hands. He held up the hem of her dress, revealing Y/n's bare foot, and gently picked it up to put the shoe back on her foot.

"Is it crystal?" Nanami's hand, holding the young woman's foot, unconsciously patted her ankle.

"And why wouldn't it be?" she said gracefully, "Thank you."

"Y/n... would you accept..." The young prince's speech was cut short as the clock struck midnight.

"It's midnight..." The young woman got up from the swing, causing Nanami to get up with her in fright. "I have to go!"

"Wait!" Nanami watched as the young woman hurried past the exit of the garden. "Why do you have to go now?"

"Your Royal Highness is very kind, thank you for the wonderful evening," she said as she walked in quick steps, "I will never forget every second we spent together, it was magical. And who knows, maybe we can meet again in the forest."

"Why are you in such a hurry?"

"It's hard to explain! But I promise we'll meet again!" Y/n smiled as she ran frantically.

"Y/n! Where are you going?" Kento ran after the young woman, but unfortunately, there were several obstacles in his way. It was as if the universe didn't want him to reach her at this moment.

As she descended the castle's long staircase to the exit gates, she lost one of her crystal slippers on one of the steps. Fearing the final chime of the clock, the young woman left the shoe behind, believing that its magic would eventually fade, and it would be nothing more than a lost heel.

ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ ㅤ ✶

All the magic vanished when Y/n arrived home, leaving only her little crystal shoe on her foot. The young woman bent down and picked up the only remaining shoe ⸻ since she had lost the other pair ⸻ and smiled as she looked at the shoe in her hands. The fact that it was there proved that it hadn't been a dream, but a real event.

Y/n went up to the attic and on a loose floor ⸻ where she kept some of her mother's things ⸻ she put on the crystal slipper. She knew deep down that something bad would happen if her stepmother found out that she hadn't just gone to the ball, but had danced with the prince.

Ah, the prince.

Not even in her wildest dreams would the young girl imagined that the boy she had met in the forest, and who had been meeting her at the same place at the same time ever since, was actually the prince, the future king, of the kingdom where she lived.

Kento had always been polite and kind to her, always willing to listen and talk about anything. He was already the man of every girl's dreams, and now that she knew his status, it had only been confirmed ⸻ but Y/n didn't want him because of his status

However, apparently he would only remain in her dreams...

The next day, Y/n went back to her routine as if the night before had never happened. She woke up early, prepared the food, took care of the animals in the stable, cleaned the house... Nothing was different, except for her memories and the hidden crystal slipper.

When her step-sisters finally gave her a break and spared her from hearing about the men who had danced at the ball and how a young girl in a blue dress had dared to go straight to the prince after setting foot in the ballroom, Y/n headed for the attic.

In the afternoon, she would go to the forest as usual to meet Kento. The young woman wasn't sure if he would show up that afternoon, but she hoped with all her heart that he would be waiting for her among the trees. As he always did.

As soon as she opened the door to her room, the young woman noticed that some floors were out of place, and when she noticed that her memory box was out of its hiding place, her heart began to beat fast and her palms began to sweat with nervousness.

"Is this what you were looking for?" Tremaine's voice startled Y/n, but her fear was soon replaced by surprise when she saw the slipper in her hand. "Oh dear, don't look so scared. I'm only going to ask you once. From whom did you steal it?"

"I didn't steal it from anyone, it was given to me!"

"Given to you? Oh, for heaven's sake, nothing is ever given, especially to someone like you!"

"I swear it was a gift!"

"So you're going to insist on the lie?" Tremaine let out a bored sigh and walked to the attic exit, tapping Y/n on the shoulder on the way, "Good thing you'll have plenty of time to think... Oh oops!" The woman slammed the crystal slipper into the door frame, shattering it into a thousand pieces.

Y/n's eyes filled with tears as she saw the shattered shoe on the floor, barely noticing Tremaine lock the door. The young woman knelt down and picked up each shard, feeling the tears blur her vision. The first gift she had received after so many years was broken and there was nothing that could fix it. Now only the memories remained.

Y/n sighed, wiped the tears from her eyes with her hands and sat down by the window. She had nowhere else to go, she wouldn't be meeting with Kento like she used to. The only thing she had left were her animal friends to keep her company.

Not long after, the door to the attic was opened, frightening the young woman ⸻ she swore that Tremaine would lock her in there for days, or perhaps just until the next day. But she was soon surprised to see a palace guard instead of her stepmother.

"Miss, please come with me.”

Without saying a word, Y/n followed him down the stairs to the living room. When she reached the living room, she noticed a figure she knew well. His clothes were in perfect condition, with no wrinkles or stains, his blond hair was perfectly styled with not a single strand out of place, and his posture was upright and impeccable. There was no doubt that Nanami Kento was a perfect prince.

"Your Royal Highness," Y/n said, bowing.

"I thought we agreed to treat each other without formalities, Y/n." Nanami turned, his serious expression relaxing slightly as he met the bright eyes of the young woman before him.

"Forgive me." Y/n murmured shyly.

"When you ran away during the ball and didn't show up in the forest as usual, I thought maybe I had disappointed you by revealing my true identity as the prince. I thought maybe I should give you some space, but I couldn't. Your name is engraved on my heart, and you are the only thing that crosses my mind every moment I breathe in and out. Every day I looked forward to seeing you for even a few seconds in the forest, and when you didn't show up today, I felt like my world was about to fall apart. I looked for you all over the kingdom, I went from house to house looking for the owner of the lost crystal slipper, I went to the edge of the forest looking for you. I love you, most ardently. I'm yours with or without the crown". Nanami approached Y/n and held her hand to his chest, making the young woman feel his heart beat faster.

"But Nanami, I'm just a simple farmer's girl, and as much as my heart wants to throw myself into your arms and give myself completely, I don't know if I'm suited for such a responsibility."

"A wise woman once told me that we must rule our own hearts. Please come with me and I will be yours forever.”

"Eternally mine? That doesn't sound so bad..." Y/n murmured, her heartbeat calming down to a feeling that was too good to be true.

"So, what do you say?" Kento smiled slightly.

"I'll be yours, any way you want.”

Then Nanami, overcome by the heat of the moment, passionately kissed the woman of his dreams. The kiss was calm, there was no need to rush, it was tender and addictive.

Y/n smiled as they moved away from each other and felt Kento place something in her hand. The young woman looked down at her hand, noticing the missing pair of her crystal shoes.

"You... you found them," she looked at the shoe in her hands, "I don't have the other pair."

"I can have a thousand crystal shoes made if you want." Nanami said with a serious face, showing that he wasn't joking.

"That won't be necessary." Y/n laughed at his lover's expression. "It's just a reminder that that magical night wasn't just a nice dream."

Kento smiled slightly and hugged Y/n tightly. Finally, after a long time, the girl he had always dreamed of, the girl who had always made his heart race, she would finally be by his side forever, there would be no need for him to run off into the forest, because she would already be within reach.

© seonghrtz, 2024. all rights reserved, please do not copy / steal / translate / modify any of my works !

[lo1k-diamonds]

💎Masterlist💎

All my writing can be found on ao3 and there’s no way I’m putting my gigantic stories here 🙈😅

That said, I’ll still put here the list with all my stories and links to find them!

[All my stories have angst - from just a misunderstanding to full-blown out-of-proportion fights 😋]

🔥 » SMUT | 📚 » multichapter | 🎀 » fluff [G- general/T- teen/M-mature/E-explicit]

Series

Soul Palette (Soulmate AU) >> [Masterpost] >> In this soulmate alternative universe, there are no marks, no strings, and no traces to guide them to their other half. But if they listen carefully, destiny is just around the corner patiently waiting to mix them in the soul palette and create universes - together.

SX Seoul >> [Masterpost] >> SX Seoul is a new club in Itaewon. Decorated with neon lights, its cozy and enveloping ambiance will have you living your wildest dreams. Each story is standalone - one per member!

RM 

Unique (E) 🔥📚 - OC x idol!NJ

Part 1: After overhearing something he shouldn’t have, Namjoon promises to make it up to the bride by keeping her maid of honor company during the rehearsal dinner party. What was supposed to be an unremarkable night became something so much more. [Tumblr]

Part 2: It’s a year later when Angie decides to visit Hyejin, both women looking to get away from their problems. But a certain group is just pausing their tour, and old feelings are rekindled when their paths cross.

Klartraum (E) 🔥📚 - OC x idol!NJ - AU » A story that follows Namjoon as he takes notes of his dreams of you in a dream journal.

Smoke Sprite (M) 🔥 - idol!Namjoon x So!YoON! - A short drabble about the song [Tumblr]

Closer (E) 🔥 - SX Seoul Series » NJ x Reader » Namjoon and you were friends for years — he was your confidant, protector, and haven. You didn’t want to risk it, no matter what, but some things can’t be kept in the dark. [Tumblr]

Jin

Carnation (T)📚 - Soul Palette (Soulmate AU) (1st entry)» OC x idol!SJ » In early 2018, BTS were at a crossroads: after working so hard to set foot in the music industry of South Korea, their sudden jump into stardom became something they never anticipated. Jin believed in his dongsaengs but was just as lost as them when his soulmate entered the picture. [1st chapter - Tumblr]

Break-line (E) 🔥 - SX Seoul Series » Jin x Reader » You’ve been chasing dreams and medals ever since you can remember, with your best friend Seokjin by your side. You thought you had everything you could possibly want — until you find out Jin is keeping a secret from you. [Tumblr]

Suga

Call you mine (E) 🔥📚 - Soul Palette (Soulmate AU) (3rd entry)» OC x idol!YG » A slowburn rejection soulmate story about falling in love with Min Yoongi. [1st chapter - Tumblr]

Sugar Rush Ride (E) 🔥 - SX Seoul Series » YG x Reader » You produced a song based on your hidden desires for your fellow producer and promised yourself that tonight, things would change. You were done pining after him, but then he arrived at the listening party. [Tumblr]

Too Sweet (E) 🔥📚 » You x Demon!YG » Coming from unabashed wealth has its perks — like never having to lift a finger in your life. When that suddenly changes, you end up at a crossroads: how far will you go to have everything you want? [Masterpost]

Stellar Behavior (E) 🔥📚 » Officer!Yoongi x Mafia (f)reader »  Yoongi has been in the police force for long enough to know that the system isn’t perfect, so when an injustice is about to put his protégé in jail, he has no other choice but to go to you. You’re the devil, but you’re hard to resist, and he needs to decide between falling into temptation or showing you that two can play the game.[Masterpost]

J-hope

Seeking the sunrise (E) 🔥📚 - Soul Palette (Soulmate AU) (2nd entry)» OC x idol!HS » No one needs a soulmate to have love, right? [1st Chapter - Tumblr]

Jimin

Dress (E) 🔥 - OC x idol!JM » After pining for years, she has reached her breaking point — and it started with a dress. [Reader version - Tumblr]

Like Crazy (E) 🔥 - SX Seoul Series » JM x Reader » You let your desires run wild and things got too far while figuring out the choreography for Jimin’s next single. You thought it was best to pretend it never happened, but he decided to chase you, hoping to set things right. [Tumblr]

V

Love Crumbs (M) 📚 - OC x Office!Tae - Office AU » Quinn’s plans were simple: win that promotion and maybe have a little fun on the side. Taehyung was in love with someone else, but that wasn’t an issue. It’s a shame things are never really that simple.

A woman's best friend (E) 🔥 - Tae x (f) reader » When you met, you and Taehyung hit it off instantly, becoming the closest of friends. You thought he was off limits, meanwhile, he’s been begging for a chance to put an end to your friendship. [Tumblr]

Paramour (E) 🔥 - SX Seoul Series » Tae x (f) reader » You were born for the quick and glamorous life surrounding celebrities — they had their little dramas and breakdowns, and you were there to clean up the mess. But you have your own secret, and doing your job might get you in trouble with your paramour. [Tumblr]

Jungkook

Far Cry (E)🔥📚 - OC x idol!JK - Lost AU » After barely escaping captivity, Jungkook is lost in a jungle on an unknown island with an injured Namjoon and an amnesiac girl. {ongoing 💜} [1st Chapter - Tumblr] ➡ snippets

Standing Next to You (M) 🔥 - You x Demon!JK - MV based » JK is a lust demon — a powerful being that inflames desires at the simplest glance. That is his nature and all there is to his existence. Until there was you.

Bubbles (E) 🔥📚 - SX Seoul Series » JK x Reader » You’re back in town and your first stop in a night out with friends is a new club: SX Seoul. You had no plans, but when you see your ex, everything changes. - [Part 1] [Part 2]

How to Choose a Valentine (T) 🎀 - reader x idol!JK » Who knew the best company for Valentine’s Day would be a lovely Doberman? And who knew he’d get you a Valentine? Well, sort of. [Tumblr]

Be as it must (E) 🔥📚 » Alpha!Jungkook x Omega(f)reader »  It’s hard being an omega in a world where they've all but disappeared, but you're safe as long as you stay under the radar. What happens when you're found and taken to your boss, CEO Jeon Jungkook?[Masterpost]

[flowerandblood]

The Moonlight Ray (2/2)

[ Hades • Aemond x Persephone • female ]

[ warnings: sex content, oral sex, fingering, smut, angst, obsession, incest, toxic jealousy, death threats, domination ]

[ description: When his beloved Persephone returns to him after nine months of separation they reunite in joy and growing closer to each other. However, three months of their happiness pass all too quickly, and when he has to accept separation with his wife again he discovers that Adonis, the young man with whom Aphrodite herself has fallen in love, has been watching his wife in the bath. Dark, tocically possessive and obsessive Aemond. ]

At the request of my readers and as a gift to celebrate 2k of my followers I wrote the second part of The Evening Star fanfic, but it can also be read as a stand-alone story.

The Evening Star & The Moonlight Ray Persephone Moodboard

*English is not my first language. Please, do not repost. Enjoy!*

My others works: Masterlist

_____

He didn't know the feeling of longing before her, he didn't know the feeling of despair or suffering, he didn't know that it was possible to wither each day with uncertainty while clinging to hope.

He did not believe that when the nine months she was to spend with her mother had passed she would return to him, to his dark, cold caves, to be locked of her own free will in his stone prison.

Although he did not believe it, she returned to him.

She came back to him and gave herself to him, and he took her, sinking deep into her body, filling her with his seed, understanding at last why men wanted so much to be husbands to their wives and have them all to themselves.

The only feeling that was more powerful than his love for her was his jealousy, his greed, his possessiveness.

When she stayed with her mother among the fields and meadows he cared that his envoys, bats, owls and snakes made sure that no men dared to look at her, let alone approach her, speak to her, try to touch her.

Any such bolder, charmed as he was by her infinite, shining beauty and sweetness, ended his life miserably, blinded or bitten by his servants − he watched with satisfaction as the souls of naive human boys thinking they had the right to ask her for her hand floated down the wide, pale streams of the Styx.

She was his alone.

To his satisfaction, his envoys reported to him each day that she did not seek the pleasure or attention of any other men, spending her days with her nymphs on bathing and playing, helping her mother bless the crops.

He decided to reward her for her devotion, for her faithfulness, and once he held her in his grasp he did not let her go for five days and five nights, alternately caressing her with his hands, his lips and his length, discovering the secrets of her soft, warm, feminine body.

He knew that his sister, the Goddess of Love and Desire, after he had rejected her efforts, would not help him understand such a complicated matter as female fulfilment, so he decided to discover for himself the path that led to it, exploring her body with his corpse-cold lips, seeking the places of her greatest pleasure.

He found that a sweet, innocent sounds erupted from her chest as he sucked and licked her nipples, that a soft sigh left her lips as he kissed her long neck − however, it wasn't until he sank his face between her thighs, it wasn't until his tongue tasted her moisture, his lips brushed her folds, that he realised he had found his way to her ecstasy.

He ate her like a greedy madman, recognising that her juices were more delicious than ambrosia itself, smelling of her and her arousal, her desire he craved so much − his lips licked and sucked her pearl, and then his tongue slid deep between her slick folds, driving her body into convulsions, pathetic, loud mewls erupting from her throat, her trembling hands clenched on his hair.

"− please − that's enough, husband − please −" She begged after each fulfilment, which he brought her to with painfully slow, deliberate flicks of his tongue and lips, watching her with delight, taking handfuls of her sweet reactions, her vulnerability, her awareness that she was dependent only on his will.

He hummed with amusement not long after her intense rapture starting his arduous work all over again, already noticing what movements of his lips were bringing her to spasms, making her fall apart in front of him − he lifted himself slowly on his arms, her eyes dark and misty, her whole body trembling with exertion in his hands.

"− please − please −" She whispered pleadingly when he turned her onto her stomach and he knelt behind her on the bedding, lifting her buttocks higher. Her mumbling turned into loud whines as he slid his fat cock deep inside her, all hard after what he'd done to her, his hands clenched on her hips, his thrusts deep, sharp and sure.

Ever since he had discovered what delight lay inside her, what a blessing it was to fill her to the brim with his seed, he hadn't been able to hold back − her entrance was all moist and sticky from her earlier fulfilments, their bodies slapping against each other with a loud, lewd splat.

"− what was it again? − you can't take it after you left me for nine long months? −" He hissed out in fury, pumping his swollen, hard manhood into her with fast, aggressive thrusts, holding her hips in an iron grip, panting loudly along with her as he felt her core clench against him in panic, overstimulated and tired.

He pressed his lips together, biting his lower lip as he saw her open her mouth wide, her body adorned with droplets of sweat, her yellow flowers primly woven into her hair scattered around her head.

"− uncle −" She mewled pleadingly and cried out loudly, simultaneously suffering and taking pleasure from this aggressive, perverse act of two naked bodies colliding with each other, her moisture trickling down her thighs.

"− I'm here, Persephone − your husband is by your side −" He exhaled with a kind of tenderness and care, not slowing down, racing his own fulfilment approaching faster and faster with each brutal thrust into her hot, fleshy interior.

When she came she almost screamed his name, writhing beneath him, clenching her hands on their bedclothes, convulsing − he tilted his head back, groaning and panting loudly, finally achieving the fulfilment he craved, filling her with himself.

When he decided that he was satisfied for the moment his wife was trembling all over, looking up at him with her lips parted, her gaze dulled, warm, tired, fulfilled. He laid down beside her, turning his face towards her, and touched her cheek with his icy-cold palm.

"− Persephone −"

Ever since she had returned, ever since she had freely chosen to be his, he had noticed a satisfying change in her that filled him with pride and desire.

She wore his gifts, his dark robes and gowns embroidered with pearls, jewels and rays of light, a crown of golden laurel leaves on her head.

She agreed to be his Queen.

Queen of the World of the Dead.

The underworld as she passed was suddenly filled with a warm glow, his servants at his request obeying her every command, being at her every whim.

He demanded that her throne stand next to his, that she not stand beside him during the audiences, but could sit by his side, equal to him.

Her words, filled with compassion and understanding, made him show his visitors grace more frequently than usual just to please her; looking at her from the side, seeing her smile of contentment, all he could think about was how much he didn't want to give her back to her mother.

Was he not trying hard enough?

Why should she leave him?

His joy and fulfilment began to give way to frustration and uncertainty with each day bringing them closer to her leaving once more. One night, after he had come hard inside her after hours of caresses and the wonderful, tender passion of two lovers this question self-consciously ripped from his throat.

"Will you leave me again?"

She looked at him surprised, the soft smile of fulfilment changed to a concerned, confused expression − she touched his cheek as if she sensed that what she was about to tell him would enrage him.

"My beloved … after all, you know what I promised my mother." She whispered quietly. He pressed his lips together and rose in fury, putting on his black robe hastily, tying it hurriedly around his waist.

Seeing that he wanted to leave her chamber she lifted herself quickly, all bare, with only a golden wreath of leaves on her head, and she stepped in his way, placing her hands on his cold, naked chest.

"− please − please, my dearest, do not stop me again −" She mumbled pleadingly, and he clenched his jaw, looking at her with rage and hatred.

"Do not fret. I will not." He hissed, sidestepping her, opening the door with a loud thud, leaving her terrified, hearing her loud, helpless cry.

Though she tried to besmirch him with her touch and presence, he could not look at her, knowing that she would leave him again, that he would again forget what her body looked like, her scent would fly from her chambers, her throne would remain empty.

"Every wife on earth and in the heavens leaves her home to be united with her husband, yet I must share you with your cursed mother." He growled in anger, pacing around his chamber as she came to him again begging him to speak with her.

She lowered her gaze at his words, all pale, not daring to interrupt him.

"Still, if it were a fair share! Nine months with me and three with her, or even six months with me and six with her! But by what right do you spend a greater part of the year with her than with me? Why do you allow it and make me accept it?" He asked coldly, darkly, low, from deep in his throat, feeling that the water of the Styx and the screams of the dead flowed through his veins.

"The earth won't have time to yield crops. When I am gone she falls into despair, there is winter on the land, everything freezes and dies. People will starve." She whispered with difficulty, looking at him pleadingly, wanting him to understand.

"I CARE NOT! LET THEM STARVE, LET THEIR BODIES ROT, LET YOUR MOTHER AND MY SISTER CHOKE ON HER AGONY AND DESPAIR, I CURSE HER!" He thundered in a tone so cold, terrifying and cruel, the ground shook around them, dust and ashes sprinkled from the high ceilings of the caves.

His Persephone looked at him trembling all over and burst into sobs, running out of his chamber − he was panting heavily as he led her away with his eyes, and then he cursed loudly and growled like an animal, burying his face in his hands.

All he wanted was for her to stay with him.

He visited her that night, enveloped her in warm furs, slipping underneath them to lie down beside her, pressing her against his naked body. She didn't push him away − she let him lift her thigh gently and explore her warm, moist womanhood with his hand.

She let him take her, let his length fill her to the brim, let him move inside her with slow, calm thrusts of his hips. He brought her to fulfilment with the circular motions of his fingers around her bud, whispering in her ear that she was his curse, his doom, his madness and the object of his endless desire.

He filled her with his spend several times that night, taking her tenderly and slowly, once apologising and once demanding her repentance for driving him to despair − she sobbed in his arms with helplessness and pleasure, peaking again and again, confessing to him her boundless, most sincere love.

"− once a month, when the full moon lights up the night sky we will meet where you saw me for the first time − I fled then from my mother when she slept, and I will flee for you to sweeten our separation −" She whispered and he felt the heat spill over his heart.

Roused by the sudden passionate feeling he kissed her greedily and took her once more.

It was easier for him to bear the thought of separation when he knew that he would not have to wait nine months to see her again, but one.

Counting down the days, he laid in her bedding, surrounded by her scent, thinking about the warmth of her bare body, about the moans that flowed from her lips like a sweet nectar.

As promised, on the night the full moon fell, he left Hades − his body was filled with anticipation, he felt a tickle in his fingertips and a burning desire in his loins.

It had been so long since he had touched her.

He did not recognise himself or his behaviour, catching himself with rage that around her he was like his brother, emotional and pawing, endlessly thirsty.

He shuddered when he heard the rustling of the grass, his wife, his lover, his Evening Star was walking towards him between the century-old trees with a light, peaceful step, a smile full of joy and warmth beamed from her bright face.

He licked his lips as he looked at her with satisfaction, seeing that she had chosen a robe of such fine material that he could see the whole outline of her body perfectly − the fabric shone with a pearly lustre in the starlight, her hair partly braided at the back of her head, partly loose, in her locks the same blue flowers as when he saw her for the first time.

"Could it be that the Moonlight Ray has finally illuminated my endless night of longing?" She whispered softly, her swollen, moist lips parted slightly.

He felt her words in his manhood, which pulsed aggressively under the material of his black robe − he looked down at her with eye full of thirst.

He wanted to devour her.

He threw himself at her, pressing her to the ground wet with dewy grass and flowers, tearing her beautiful robe to shreds, exposing her naked body in front of him − she moaned in surprise, trying loudly to catch air in her lungs.

Her body arched backwards in a convulsion as his length slid suddenly between her thighs, pushing her throbbing, hot muscles to their limit.

She was so wet, she was clenching so hard against him that he gasped loudly, and immediately began to root into her, making them both pant with pleasure, his hands on either side of her head looking at her beautiful face.

"− take it − take what your husband is giving you −" He hissed slamming into her with quick, sharp, brutal thrusts of his hips − she whimpered beneath him, her tight, hot walls sucking him inside.

She gave herself fully to him, spreading her thighs wide before him in a gesture of submission, experiencing ferociously intense fulfilment with him.

They spent the whole night together, amidst the rustle of grass and leaves, the light of moon and stars, gazing on their faces, lying naked, hidden from the world.

This time it was she who begged him before dawn not to leave, to stay with her a while longer, but he did not listen to her pleas, wanting her to feel what he felt, to experience a substitute for his suffering, although his body screamed for him to take her once more.

Their monthly meetings sweetened the goblet of bitterness of her absence, and although he could not bear the emptiness that filled the underworld without her, he appreciated that at least in this way they could experience relief.

He thought that, like in the stories of people that were passed down from father to son, they met like forbidden lovers, taking solace in each other's arms.

When word reached him that a human youth had captured the heart of one of his sisters, Aphrodite, the same one he had refused years before, he was not particularly bothered, knowing her nature and how easily she changed the objects of her affections.

This Adonis of whom he had heard so much was supposed to be a beautiful young man with big, brown eyes, his black hair curly and shiny, his body built no worse than Hercules or Ares himself.

However, when one day his servant reported to him that Adonis had been seen in the company of his wife and her mother, that from the shrubs he had watched his Persephone bathing, he felt an anger he had never known before in his life.

His rage did not allow him to wait until the next full moon.

His envoys reported to him where Demeter and his wife were staying to rest with their nymphs and Adonis himself.

He came there at night, when everyone was asleep − his steps was followed by a translucent blue mist, enveloping the sleepers with a faint scent, leaving them incapable of being awake for as long as he wished.

He did not allow the smoke to reach his wife's nostrils; with a gesture of his hand he commanded the clouds to change direction so that they avoided her body, clad in a white, half-transparent robe.

He stood over her, looking at her thoughtfully, then lifted his gaze and noticed Adonis sleeping nearby under a tree, facing her, as if he had fallen asleep looking at her.

He pressed his lips together at the thought, recognising that he would deal with him later.

He knelt down, placing his knees on either side of her body − his hand with a light, sure movement reached into the material of her robe and untied it. She shuddered all over, awakening from a deep sleep, terrified and wanting to scream, feeling that someone had exposed her body, so he covered her mouth with his ice-cold hand.

"− shhh −" He hushed her reassuringly when she finally looked at him, her gaze turned from horror and fear to disbelief and joy − she wanted to embrace him but he wouldn't let her, grabbing her wrists.

"− husband − what are you −" She mumbled, shocked and flustered by his presence and squealed quietly as he lifted her up and turned her back to him, gripping her hip with one hand and her neck with the other. He squeezed her cheeks with his fingers and directed her face to the young boy sleeping before them.

"Handsome, isn't he? I heard he has two beautiful dark eyes. If you find them pleasing, I can gift them to you." He whispered in her ear and she trembled all over at his words, her hands tightened on his arm, her breathing quickened in terror.

"− no − I would never − ah −" She cried out quietly as she felt his fingers slide between her thighs with uncertain, soft movement checking what state she was in.

Her lips parted wide and she involuntarily reached back to grab his hair as the tip of his finger began to tease her slit with a sticky, loud click of her moisture.

"− no? − my wife is a little liar, isn't she? −" He hissed low, sliding his finger deeper into her hot core, overpowered by jealousy and rage at the very thought that she might have wanted anyone else, that her thoughts might have been occupied with another men while he thought only about her.

"− I'm not − I'm not, my beloved −" She uttered with difficulty, involuntarily rising and falling on his finger, seeking any source of friction, panting quietly, despite her terror her walls throbbed with arousal.

"− did you let him look at your naked body? − I know he tried to watch you in the bath −" He growled icily, sliding his finger out of her, untying his robe and directing her to the tip of his manhood, feeling that he couldn't wait any longer, that he had to take her, had to show himself and her who she truly desired.

"− no − I didn't - I didn't know − I swear −" She mumbled and parted her lips, letting out a loud, helpless cry as he thrust his length into her so deeply, that he felt like he was going to pierce her stomach.

He covered her mouth with his hand, licking his lips, feeling her walls clench on him greedily.

She sobbed helplessly into his hand, panting loudly along with him, her gaze hazy, absent, stupefied with pleasure, her hand clenched in his hair allowing her to keep her balance as she rose and fell on him with a loud click of her moisture, his lips pressed to her ear.

"− be quiet − if you wake him up with those sweet sounds, and he sees me take you − sees your naked body − sees your husband sink into you − I'll have no choice but to put his eyes out before I kill him − that would be a huge pity, wouldn't it? − such a handsome face −" He hissed, slamming into her with brutal, deep, fast thrusts of his hips, teasing a spot hidden deep inside her fleshy core.

"− that's right − take me like a good wife you are − take me and maybe I would let him live − would you like that? − would you like your pretty little boy? −" He growled with rage while accelerating aggressively, his hand from her hip slid between her thighs, in circular sharp strokes squeezing her pearl, his other hand pressed against her mouth, muffling the high pitched, pathetic sounds coming from her throat.

With each thrust he stretched her slick walls to the limit, panting along with her, his face pressed against her cheek, her scent wonderfully filling his lungs.

He felt her fingers suddenly tighten on his arm, trying to remove his hand from her mouth – he lowered it and she turned her face towards him, their lips, their tongues, their teeth found each other in a lustful, brutal, greedy kiss, her hand clamped tighter on his hair, holding him close.

"− only yours −" She gasped in the passionate, aggressive dance of their lips and tongues. "− I'm only yours −"

He groaned low into her throat, his manhood twitched hard inside her, demanding to be relieved and fulfilled.

"− I'm going to kill him − I'm going to kill him for you −" He breathed out darkly, low, pounding his length into her with all strength he had in his hips.

She came at his words, aroused by his jealousy, by his possessiveness, moaning loudly into his mouth, her core began to clench against him in pleasure; her body trembled all over as his length slid in and out of her through her elation, refusing to let her come down from her peak.

He felt her throbbing walls squeeze his seed out of him and gasped, sinking his face into her neck – he clenched his eyes shut, panting loudly, focused only on his own pleasure, his fulfilment.

They were both breathing fast and unevenly, trembling with overstimulation – her hand let go of his hair and stroked his face tenderly, her nose and forehead pressed against his cheek.

He sighed quietly, glancing at her, and then they kissed passionately, tenderly, sucking and licking their lips with a soft click.

He pulled away from her, running his fingers over her beautiful, gentle face, in her eyes exactly what he wanted to see.

Love as infinite as the darkness of Hades itself.

He kissed her cheek tenderly, running the tip of his nose over her soft, hot face, his lips traveling to her ear.

_____

"You can choose how he will die."

Thank you very much for giving me the opportunity to write part two, I love this couple and the atmosphere of mythology surrounding them, unmistakable and very poetic. I hope you like it as much as the first part.

Aemond Taglist

@dc-marvel-girl96 @its-actually-minicika @notnormalthings-blog @nikstrange @zenka69 @bellaisasleep @k-y-r-a-1 @g-cf2020 @melsunshine @opheliaas-stuff @chainsawsangel @iiamthehybrid @tinykryptonitewerewolf @namoreno @malfoytargaryen @qyburnsghost @aemondsdelight @persephonerinyes @fan-goddess @sweethoneyblossom1 @watercolorskyy @randomdragonfires @apollonshootafar @padfooteyes @darylandbethfanforever9 @fudge13 @snh96 @rwdkarla @echos-muses @ipostwhtifeel @letmeloveyouuuu @yentroucnagol @valeskafics @verena-targaryen-writes @talesofoldandnew @happinessinthebeing @travelingmypassion

[browneyesandhair]

Non-Exhaustive List of Soulmate Fics: Klaroline Pt 1

Okay, I'm bored so I'm compiling my favorite soulmate fics. Here's the Klaroline edition:

Runaway by Cupcakemolotov

Summary:

Caroline has been running from her soul mate since she found him standing over her father’s corpse.

Hunt You Slow by Cupcakemolotov

Summary:

Discovering that the scourge of the supernatural was her soulmate would be enough to send any girl running.

At Horizon's Edge by Cupcakemolotov

Summary:

Sometimes when a girl goes on a shopping trip to pick up a new pair of boots at the local, and somewhat hostile, human space station, she accidentally aids and abets a prison break instead. What happens in the black really doesn't stay in the black.

The Howling by Cupcakemolotov

Summary:

Caroline's day goes from bad to worse to insane in a matter of moments.

Written On Your Skin by LaLainaJ

Summary:

It's a rather boring day, at the flower shop Caroline owns. And then The Original Hybrid walks in, and changes her life by uttering a few small words. They're words Caroline knows, words she sees on her skin, every day in the mirror. She's thought about her soulmate, who wouldn't have? But he's the last thing she ever would have expected, and the last person she should want. But she can't quite bring herself to deny their connection.

The Air We Breathe by slstmaraudersjple

Summary:

When Caroline learns that her soulmate is the thousand year old Original Hybrid, she cries, because she knows her world is ending. When Klaus learns that his soulmate is a baby vampire, he is intrigued, because he has waited his entire life for her. Soulmates AU.

Even When We're Ghosts by LaLainaJ

Summary:

He'd just been planning to collect his doppelganger, hadn't anticipated such strong resistance. Now, trapped in his wolf form, until he meets his soulmate, Klaus seeks alternative solutions. He doesn't believe in soulmates. Until Caroline Forbes crosses his path. Caroline thinks she's hallucinating (note to self, don't accept moonshine from old ladies) until her life starts getting... weird. The Mikaelsons aren't great at subtle.

the fate makes for a lousy poet. by for_darkness_shows_the_stars

Summary:

It is not unheard of. Soulmates born too far apart to ever meet. Caroline did her research thoroughly. It’s just rare. And for all that she’d known her entire life that her fated other half was dead long, long before she was even a gleam in her mother’s eye … it’s unfair. . Everyone is born with a soulmate. It just so happens that a millennium divides Caroline from hers.

I Wish I Was (I Wish I Was) by dressedupasmyself

Summary:

“I think that even if you find your soulmate, there’s some measure of choice involved. Maybe some people just make the wrong choices.” “Good,” Caroline said. “What if my soulmate is, like, the worst? I wouldn’t want to be stuck with him forever. I want some kind of choice.” “But that’s the beauty of it,” Elena sounded wistful, “Your soulmate might be awful to everyone else, but they’re the best for you.” Caroline scoffed. “Okay, whatever.”

Passing Notes in Secrecy by perfectpro

Summary:

Caroline doesn’t remember not having a soulmate. Her mom says that the drawings started when she was small, just a baby. So he’s clearly older than her. She doesn’t mind, thinks that it will probably be nice to be with someone who has a little more life experience. She thinks she's one of the lucky ones.

The Raven Hunter by LynyrdLionheart

Summary:

There is a killer hunting frat boys on campus. The Raven Hunter is a terrible name... not that Caroline has a reason to care or anything.

a part of something that’s bigger (than me) by Issay

Summary:

In the beginning she's a plaything, the mean girl brought low, made and unmade by decisions of others and Caroline never receives apologies for most of it. Elena fights for her happy ending and through all of her losses and dark despair she is never alone. Bonnie wins her freedom, powerful in her own right. Caroline is left with uncertainty and obligations. No, the story isn't kind to Caroline. So let's change the story.

oh there you are (i've been looking for you) by breakfasttako

Summary:

Caroline was born a fated one, which means two things: 1) She has a soulmate 2) She's going to die tragically young

What's a Little Ink? by Writerwithagoal

Summary:

What would you get as a tattoo if you knew it would appear on your soulmate?

Hallowed Ground by KiryTheStitchWitch

Summary:

Caroline's trip to Ireland was not going the way it was supposed to. She was expecting stories and myths, and instead finds that some legends are a lot more real than she could have imagined. And hot. Really hot.

Inadvisable by MissNMikaelsonSummary:Everyone has soul words. The first thing your soulmate will ever say etched somewhere on your body. Caroline always dreaded meeting hers. She had never imagined this though; she had never imagined him. He had all but given up. Just a one shot for one of my favorite pairings.

Midnattsol by BelleMorte180

Summary:

The man laying before her was her soulmate, someone who should have died a thousand years ago. Written for AU-Season week three

Ship of Bones by Cupcakemolotov

Summary:

When humanity struggles to maintain its racial identity in the cold reaches of space, Caroline Forbes has hidden the gifts her alien mother left her. But secrets aren't secrets forever.

Familiar Taste of Poison by Cupcakemolotov

Summary:

A great love isn't always a blessing.

Holding Out for a Hero by slstmaraudersjple

Summary:

Klaus would totally be able to focus on his plans for world domination… if only his soulmate would stop singing that thrice-damned song. But then there's silence, and Klaus grows worried. Soulmate AU where songs that one’s soulmate sings gets stuck in one’s head. CW/TW: descriptions of Caroline being abused by Damon but nothing graphic/explicit.

[raayllum]

Cube Hostage Exchange Theory, for Real This Time

Intro

A few days after Through the Moon came out in September 2020, I made a throwaway theory post about a potential Rayllum reconciliation scenario in which Rayla would be taken captive / threatened by the antagonists, and Callum would hand over the Key of Aaravos in order to save her life.

In the almost four years since then, the theory has blossomed into much more than it started as, largely due to people's amazing art and fic inspired by it, and by the enthusiasm it's been received with, and for those things I will always be eternally, deeply grateful for.

The theory (henceforth CHET, an acronym coined by @jelzorz) has likewise gone through many metas (some of which will be referenced and linked to here when applicable), 20+ pages alone on my blog, with surprising leaps in popularity and plausibility, and multiple variations, both within the theorizing space and within canon itself (5x08, you will always be famous).

There's also been many moments of doubt.

As much as everything seemed to make sense even as Rayllum's post-TTM reunion went on, there was still so much left that was perpetually speculative. We didn't even know if Aaravos would want his cube back, which was one of the theories' many lynchpins, and TDP loves to be subversive (within reason) and throw curveballs I never saw coming, like Terry's wonderful existence or Sol Regem's swerve to attacking Katolis. I've speculated alternative uses for the Key to high heaven (as Aaravos' missing heart piece, a key to the Star Nexus or realm, the key to his prison, and sometimes all three simultaneously as a power up he needs to free himself and wreck celestial havoc). The closest I got to was it being a literal key and related to something Aaravos would want/need back, and indeed a power up, and that he did need a quasar diamond to get out of his prison and that one was in the staff and not also in the Key. Not bad, but definitely missing some marks.

That is to say that there could still be curve balls or swerves, and a theory isn't set in stone as happening until it happens. After all, I've been fully prepared to pack the theory up and for it to not happen three times now (going into S4, particularly S5, and S6). When the S4 finale did indeed have a hostage exchange involving Rayla and Claudia and a boyfriend, I chuckled and figured we might not repeat a plot beat like that again; when 5x08 did it twice, I was overjoyed at getting the exact irony of "Callum literally frees Rayla while chaining himself further to Aaravos' will" that I'd always wanted. 5x08 was, and is, enough for me; if S7 never takes it further, I'll still be pleased as punch.

However, after four years of hemming and hawing and going into seasons preparing for curveballs... I'm pleased to say I finally don't have any doubt.

And here's why.

Sections:

Background

The Cube and the Game Motif

Neon Lights, Narrative Set Up and Pay Off (6x03, S6)

The Knowledge Motif Thread Detour

Tests of Love (Leola, Chaos, and Love)

Alternatives (no possession, third path, Rayla handing over the cube, etc)

Conclusion

Background

First, a little background. Any relevant information in the metas listed below will be summarized / explained / alluded to accordingly for your benefit, but it is a good luck at 1) how the theory has evolved over time and 2) will be drawing in relevant aspects from said metas when discussing season 6.

Previous proper CHET metas include (in chronological order):

The Original Theory Post / Meta (Oct 2020, post-TTM)

Rayllum and Rayla's Weird Consistency with the Key (March 2022, pre-S4)

Rayla's Duality as Callum's Salvation and Destruction (Aug 2022, pre-S4)

CHET: End of Days (Nov 2022, pre-S4)

Opposing Cube Symbolism in 2x08 (Dec 2022, post-S4)

Here's How It Can Still Win (Dec 2022, post-S4)

Aaravos and Rayla as Callum's Two Paths (May 2023, pre-S5)

Shorter post-S6 meta

Things that are useful to our meta here ultimately, however, with a couple of S6 updates in later sections are

THE GAME MOTIF

This refers to a repeated visual and verbal literal and metaphorical motif running throughout the series. Although not exclusive to him, 90% of the time the Game Motif is in relation to Aaravos. It is most prominent when discussing the Key of Aaravos in arc 1 ("This is the game room. Cube should be in there" / "It's a glow toy" literally / "Are you practicing magic or are you losing to Bait at a game of rolly-cubes?") with one 'throwaway' line from Viren to Aaravos in 2x08: "What game are you playing at?"

This then took on a much more prominent focus in arc 2 thanks to the pawn intros and lines from various characters, such as Zubeia's assessment that "We had to beat Aaravos at his own game," Viren's reservations that "I believe Aaravos may be toying with us," Ezran's "His pawns are working to free him even as we speak."

Much of this has been rather set in stone for a while now (one of the TDP's shorts did, though, excitingly link Aaravos' test of love to the game motif, with the line "They aren’t games. They’re tests") but S6 did add some very exciting overlap with Aaravos' game and dark magic, which is fitting given that the two are deeply intertwined: "Because you're too good for dark magic, now? You had a lifetime to play with your toys, and now you decide to hide them away and destroy them?" (Viren to Kpp'Ar about the staff, 6x06.)

We also see occasional overlap with this motif and the stage motif ("You've played your part well" in 6x08 to Sol Regem / "Aaravos chose as his instruments..." + "You will perform acts of love so unforgivable..." in 4x04) as you can play a game, and play your role in a theatrical performance. Or in Callum's case, as a puppet who is "destined to play right into" Aaravos' hands.

PRIMAL STONE FORESHADOWING

As Callum discusses in 2x02 directly, he broke Claudia's stolen primal stone on purpose (not by accident) because he had "a good reason". The comparison later on in the same season, then, that the whole world is like a giant primal stone, and Callum's tendency towards breaking things (specifically magical objects) we well as the emphasis on "breaking the cycle" therefore felt like setup. It also felt particularly apt given Aaravos' wish expressed in Patience that:

I have not seen the stars in centuries. But when I see them again—when the stars are forced to look upon me, their dark brother—they will know how I have waited. And when everything they have built lies shattered, I will savor their fall from the sky.

S6 also affirmed this by associating the primal magic that Leola 'gave' to humans the "first step in a long spiral towards Callum," and what that might mean for Callum, someone who is uniquely a primal mage and has used dark magic. The fact that Aaravos and his key (remember that game motif) are associated with the book of / primal magic as well as dark magic reinforces this duality further.

Who better to shatter the Cosmic Order and known world for the worst better than the boy who is already shattering it for the best?

LIGHT AND DARKNESS

The cube and Aaravos are associated with both light and dark, not only in design, but in magic systems. Aaravos and dark magic are routinely related to darkness ("because I have followed a dark path" / "the darkness and corruption will overwhelm you" / "and my favourite, the human mage, already tainted by darkness" / "in darkness, gaze upon a fallen star"). This is fairly straightforward, as Rayla represents literal light (which we'll get to in S6 in a moment) that heals Callum's broken spirit and rescinds Aaravos' control over him. Note, for example, the way she's shrouded in light in clear opposition to Aaravos' mirror right next to her, with Callum facing ahead towards both of them.

However, it's not that simple, because light can also be seen as a bad thing, such as the possession eyes, Karim's desire to "return the light/sun" to his people, the cube-moon opal's light on the Bridge of Darkness in 4x07 leading to danger, dark magic turning your hair white, and most notably, the way the pawn becomes a literal glow toy in the 4x04 / 5x08 pawn intro.

The light of the cube — perhaps the light in general — is not going to be exclusive in playing into Aaravos' hands. In the mirror-Rayla screenshot, for example, the path towards Rayla is embodied by the shadow she casts on the floor (similar to how regularly Claudia is portrayed in Viren's shadow in S6).

And, speaking of light...

RAYLA AS CALLUM'S PATH, SINGULAR

As speculated pre-S4, Rayla represents light, truth, and love in Callum's life. This was then canonized in 6x06. Post-S4, it seemed overtly evident that Rayla was being set up further to represent a path in opposition to Aaravos. She would save Callum from being Aaravos' prey, she was the Light and reminder of agency to Aaravos' Darkness and stripping of agency. "What if I'm on a path of darkness?" "Then take another path, dummy." This was, of course, all in line with the previous light-darkness and game motif described above. Rayla couldn't, and won't, kill Callum permanently after all if at all, so she has to save him instead.

However, it was also pretty clear following S4 and especially S5 that the razor's edge between salvation and destruction, as embodied by Rayla being the reason he was in Aaravos' clutches in the first place (getting him the cube, being his motivation behind doing dark magic), would eventually merge. Her love would ultimately save him, but it would destroy him first.

This has, of course, been their pattern throughout the series: Rayla comes into his life, causing him to turn/destroy his relationship with Claudia and put him in danger, but she's also what pushes him to do magic for the first time; he follows her off the Pinnacle at great risk to himself, but his love for her helps centre him enough that he can save them both; she is the reason he does dark magic (twice), but is also what fixes his broken spirit during the star-light trial ritual.

Because she's not just the other path in opposition to Aaravos. She is his path, singular.

If you're interested in more of this, I'd recommend my one about the layers of Rayla being Callum's One Truth in greater detail, as well as general speculation of their arc in S7, some of which will be referenced/summarized here as well.

With all that out of the way, let's get into it

The Cube and the Game Motif

Anyone who knows me knows that the Game Motif is my favourite motif in TDP (which is saying something) and that said motif has been a long standing cornerstone of CHET. This is mostly because, as noted, in arc 1 the Game Motif existed almost exclusively with the cube down to its introduction.

CALLUM: This is the game room. Cube should be in there. (1x04)

CALLUM: Last night you thought the cube was just a worthless toy. But now we know— RAYLA: It's a glow toy. (1x05)

The Game Motif was also associated with Aaravos sparsely in arc 1 ("What game are you playing?" Viren demands in 2x08, and never receives the answer / "Well played. She will be a valuable asset") and magic itself ("Is this a guessing game? Just do it!") although to a lesser degree. There were also nods to the imbalance of power in Xadia, with Harrow noting, "Entire armies have crumbled and fallen like toys before [Avizandum]. How can we hope to kill such a godly creature?"

Then, as noted in arc 2, the game motif went from being associated just with the cube to being associated with Aaravos outright, both verbally through dialogue and literally in the pawn intros. This is what I call a motif expansion, where something moves from subtext to text. It is somewhat similar to a merger, where two previously separate associations are brought into being one in the same. This is initially how the cube operates, since the game motif is ongoing whereas Callum's statement of "You wait here, however long it takes, I'll go find a key" in 1x04 is only made foreshadowing in 2x06 when he learns it's called the Key of Aaravos.

2x07 takes this further, though, with this dialogue exchange:

CALLUM: [Holding the cube] What do you think this thing is, anyway? He said it was a key, but a key to what? RAYLA: Are you practicing magic, or are you losing to Bait at a game of rolly-cubes?

For example, here we see the Key analogue/association and the game motif be linked together. TDP does this a few more times with Aaravos' key becoming associated with light (4x04/5x08), destiny dark magic (2x08, 4x04), secrets/mysteries (2x07, 2x06) and more. A lot of this is, of course, because Aaravos is likewise associated with all these things, and the Key is tethered to him and his plot line / motifs and associations.

The game motif does exist outside of the cube's associations — Ezran's pattern of hide and seek represents his childhood innocence, his tendency to run and hide when things get hard, and him shedding both these patterns as they attempt to find

The most interesting thing that S6 did on this note, then, was make the game motif associated not just with magic, but very specifically with dark magic:

VIREN: Because you're too good for dark magic now? You had a lifetime to play with your toys, and now you decide to hide them all away or destroy them? (6x06)

Why am I screaming about this, you may ask? Well, the Staff of Ziard is about as synonymous with dark magic as a thing can get in TDP. It too belonged originally to Aaravos, and became a cornerstone in his grand plan, at least of getting out of the prison.

HARROW: It belonged to an elven wizard in Xadia, the Archmage Aaravos, a master of all six primal sources. (2x06) IBIS: If you seek to return that staff to its true owner, you pose a greater danger to the world than I can allow. (4x03)

So the Staff is a toy, and dark magic, and belonged to Aaravos, and used in his plans, brought directly to him by Viren (indirectly) and Claudia (directly). And the Key is also referred to as a toy, is also in the possession of another pawn, and has also been hidden and/or 'should' be destroyed. A knowledge of primal magic, at least in terms of how it manifests in creatures/locations, is also required in order to be a successful dark mage.

So not only is Aaravos and the key tied directly to the game motif, but through Viren's exchange with Kpp'Ar, so is dark magic. In many ways, this takes what was subtext — dark magic is what allows Aaravos to puppet and manipulate people such as his pawns, and keep the Cycle (his game) going, even if he's not what directly started it (that was the Cosmic Order/Council) — and makes it text. Aaravos' toys are toys ultimately because of their tethers to magic, typically dark magic as well, and his objects of choice, such as the Staff or the Key or how he puppets his pawns, are not exceptions. (There's potential for primal magic as well, of course, but it's currently not as direct).

We also know, thanks to Arc 2, that the Key and Staff are more similar to one another than we might've thought in terms of their purposes in Aaravos' plan. I'd speculated in the past that the Staff and/or the Key held quasar diamonds that Aaravos needed for some power-up purpose; the Staff had the diamond needed for his body contingency plan, and the Key is needed for his primal book to operate and presumably be found, so that he can be at full power.

Furthermore, we have a pattern of dialogue about the Key / game motif eventually becoming literal. The cube is called a glow toy, and then in the pawn intro is revealed to be a literal glow toy; Callum says "what if it's magic?" in 1x04 and we discover that it opens up a book of all primal magic; it's foreshadowed loosely as a key, and it is a key; Rayla asks if Callum is losing a game, and he's embroiled in Aaravos' game as a pawn. Callum will win eventually, of course, as will everyone else... but he has to lose, really lose, first.

After all, every other line regarding the cube has come to fruition other than three:

"This is the game room. The cube should be in there" and "I'll go find a key" from 1x04 have both come back around. "It's a glow toy" from 1x05 ended up being true as well, with the cube flashing a bright light in Callum's pawn intro (and even the cube being included in the pawn intro). The Key's secrets are things Callum is currently investigating (6x02) and will likely fully discover in S7, possibly leading him to Aaravos' book or something else near Elarion and the thematic culmination of the Mystery of Aaravos. Callum's notice that the key seems to be glowing differently in 1x09 is revealed to be true because of the Moon Nexus. Rayla's line in 2x07 about losing the game to Bait is true in 5x08 as he practices magic (both dark and primal) in order to save her from being literal bait, even if that means taking a step closer to Aaravos and 'losing' the game. I expect Callum's assessment of "No good can come from it" (4x07) will ultimately be untrue if it helps him study primal magic ("What if it's magic? [...] I just have a feeling this cube thing can help me"), and Rayla's decision of "Let's go get your cube" is likely going to be true by the end of S7, with Callum reclaiming ownership completely this time.

So let's talk about the three lines that haven't come to fruition yet, because they paint a pretty apt picture:

So in the biggest notion of currently untapped set up, Rayla after being the first to declaring the damn cube a toy says "I hope it was worth it to you putting everyone's lives in danger." The thing is that this it's not like this line doesn't work in context, it very well does; someone could've gotten hurt and Rayla was nearly killed. This is also a sort spot for her because she'd just done the same thing in 1x01, putting her troupe in danger, so of course she's extra (somewhat fairly, somewhat unfairly) miffed at new mage boy repeating her mistakes as well.

Games (and chess) are all about patience, exchange, and sacrifice. We know now that the cube is something powerful, why it is, what it unlocks, and why Aaravos has the incentive to want it back (which as stated was an assumption before).

But the fact remains that the game motif has been tied to the cube to the start and continues to be. Callum's test of either playing into Aaravos' hands and coming back from it (the option that I lean towards) or outright rejecting it again cannot be fulfilled until the cube pawn intro has come full circle.

So let's talk about

Neon Lights, Narrative Set Up and Pay Off (6x03, S6)

As you can garner from this meta and any of my previous ones that have touched on this theory, there were a lot of assumptions that had to go into it. I had to assume, prior to season six, that Aaravos would even want the cue back. I had to assume, prior to season four, that the Rayla-Aaravos Callum-Viren foils thing was happening on purpose and that Rayla would be put in opposition to Aaravos as the light to his darkness. I had to assume, prior to season five, that S4's emphasis on people doing terrible/misguided things for love through characters like Rayla, Terry, Viren, and Claudia would eventually become a mainstay in Callum's arc 2 character arc.

I had to assume, prior to season six, that the story would eventually be inclined to put Callum in a scenario where he'd have to choose between Rayla and the greater good so directly. After all, while I was confident post-season 2 onwards that, if put in a situation with Rayla and/or Ezran's life on the line, Callum would always do dark magic, that was ultimately a characterization basis. Yeah, I could think that he would go there, but the story was under no condition to go there from a Plot standpoint, ie. assembling the story and plot line so that Callum would be faced with that kind of choice again. They could choose to not explore that aspect of a potential character arc, leaving it technically unknown. My characterization predictions in these scenarios, then, have been routinely consistent, but whether the plot itself would cooperate was entirely up in the air, with some plot evidence existing due to TDP's love of exchanges, trolley problems, and hard choices.

Then 6x03 happened:

To say that I cried/cheered would be an understatement.

This, of course, doesn't necessarily mean that Callum will do what I think he'll do, or that it'll play out in the manner I'm imagining. It does seem blatantly obvious, however, that S7 with the season's synopsis emphasis on sacrifice that both Callum and Rayla will face the choice of whether to sacrifice the other, one after each other: Callum first — as he must do dark magic again in order to be possessed — and then Rayla, tested and finally choosing not to sacrifice something to her, saving him back as a result.

But furthermore, I lost my fucking mind explicitly because it's not just a question of "will you sacrifice me or yourself" (which we know isn't a real question for either of them) but "will you sacrifice me or the world (greater good)" which is exactly what I've wanted for both of them all along. For Callum to put Rayla first the way that he always has, and for Rayla to (subsequently) put Callum first as a sign of growth/character development. (This also ties into Rayla's whole thing in s6 of taking the lessons Callum's taught her about how to love and implementing them with him in turn or with others, but that's a meta for another day.)

Now, there are alternatives that there could be / ways to get around the 'greater good' slice of the pie, which I'll talk about later under the Alternatives subheading.

For now, I just want to assert the narrative set up and potential we have so far in a plainer way:

The Knowledge Detour

We know that Aaravos wants the cube (6x09) and we know he knows that Callum has it (4x04, 5x08).

The game motif and key motif have been directly related to dark magic (2x07, 2x08, 4x04 "play right into my hands," 5x08, 6x06, etc).

The Key itself is also related to secrets (2x06), the secrets of primal magic (2x01), and thereby knowledge / answers to the 'Mystery' of Aaravos.

This is also related to the idea of knowing too much or having too much knowledge being dangerous (which you can read more about here, although it's pre-S6 so it doesn't touch on everything presently that it could have).

After speaking with Rayla, Callum tries and fails to give up the cube to assert his own destiny / that 'destiny is a book you write yourself' (4x07)

Callum, like Rayla, will be forced to make a choice between the greater good and his loved one. He will choose her even if that means sacrificing himself on top of the world, and she will save him (symbolically refusing to sacrifice herself).

[Gestures to the rest of the cube / key foreshadowing]

I also want to talk a little bit more about mystery. I touched on it here in a previous meta (Rayllum's potential S7 arc through the lens of S6), but there's an emphasis in S6 on mysteries versus love, with love winning.

I would tell you that the vast mystery I travelled the world to find was contained in you all along. (6x03)

Those few short years with Leola were the most meaningful. Pondering the deepest mysteries of the universe could not hold a candle. (6x09)

Both of these sentiments are similar and apply to Rayla and Aaravos directly: she wanted the security of knowing Viren was dead only to return home to the one thing she wanted ("the best thing I ever had: you"). Likewise, Aaravos had the best and most meaningful years of his eternally long existence when he was with his daughter, where his study and pursuit of magic / universal mysteries ultimately paled in comparison. While it is ordinary parent behaviour as well, Aaravos being away from Leola because of his key and book upon the moment she's taken has layers, as well as how he torments Sol Regem specifically with a mystery concerning love:

We see 4x01 establish two mysteries for Callum that run throughout the rest of the arc thus far. The first is the mirror ("What secrets are you hiding?") which is a stand-in for Aaravos, and then Rayla, even once she returns ("I don't know how to feel about Rayla, either").

These threads run in parallel throughout S5 and S6 (Rayla specific one only here). In season 5, Rayla kicks off both Callum's desire to discover how to kill Aaravos (5x01-5x05) and his new understanding of himself in the Ocean arcanum through their relationship (5x01, 5x04, 5x08). In many ways, S5 is him realizing that he will always be there for her, no matter what the cost — even if that means taking a step closer and making himself more vulnerable to Aaravos.

In season 6, Callum is grappling over the Starscraper / Nova Blade as well as worries of how Rayla will respond to his dark magic use. He worries that Aaravos will use him: "I don't know how, but I'm afraid he... he's gonna use me." The mystery he does solve within the season, then, is suitably what is his one truth — what does he know, without a shadow of a doubt, beyond and above anything else? If S5 is Callum realizing he will always be there for her regardless of anything that's happened or could happen, then S6 is him realizing that Rayla will always be with him (regardless of whether she's physically there or not) and will come back to him.

The reason I'm tangentially emphasizing this is because Callum is a knowledge seeker, inherently — he wants to learn magic and he wants to use magic, and that has always been one of his greatest strengths and weaknesses (ie. going out into the Storm, being unable to throw the Key away). The Mystery of Aaravos through figuring out the Key's secrets will be just about undeniably important, and while Callum might not get obsessive about solving it, the Key still represents that curiosity and desire to Know—the mystery he's chasing and has continued to chase about the world. Knowledge or love (giving up magic to save Zym and Rayla by proxy), and on occasion ("How did you—?" "Cause I love you, Rayla" / "To love is simply to know this") both at the same time, just as Rayla's arc has routinely centred on the push and pull and occasional reconciliation of love and duty.

Rayla's advice in 4x07 made him nearly throw the Cube away, or give up that Knowledge seeking quest. This doesn't mean that Callum should give it up entirely (I've said this in many places, but I think by the end of S7 Callum will likely have the Key and Book as his own rather than Aaravos', paralleling his reclamation of himself and his identity) but the current framing of 4x07 begs the question of "What would you give it up for?" What would you sacrifice this knowledge or curiosity for? Because we know, typically, curiosity and the pursuit of knowledge isn't enough for Callum; he won't "risk his life for magic" (2x04) and views that as being an idiot, but he'll launch himself off the Pinnacle. He'll do things for love that he won't do for magic; he'll be motivated to find knowledge and walk down those paths because of love. Just curiosity, typically, hasn't been enough.

Speaking of which, let's talk about

Tests of Love (Leola, Chaos, and Love)

The game motif and its connection to other aspects of the series—the stage motif (Aaravos and Callum's bowing / "destined to play right into my hands"), dark magic ("You had a lifetime to play with your toys and now you hide them all away or destroy them" / "I'm afraid Aaravos is toying with us")—and indeed the concept of tests ("We all want peace and we all want love, but violence tests us" / "They aren't games, they're tests") had always felt conducive to Aaravos' character, thanks to his statement in 2x09:

You tried to win over the other humans with loyalty and friendship, but they ignored you. Those who fail tests of love are simple animals. They deserve to be motivated by fear.

Even before S6 aired, this statement already made sense—while Viren was motivated by his quest for power and importance, and that was what Aaravos seemingly preyed on, when at the core of it was Viren's desire to be loved and to matter:

I am having some trouble getting people to listen to me. To hear the importance of what I am saying. [Who are these people?] They are kings and queens, the other leaders of the Pentarchy. (2x09)

[To Harrow] What? No, that's not what I'm saying. Please, listen— (1x03)

It is everything to me, to know that I mean something to you. To know that I matter. It's all I ever wanted. (5x02)

Aaravos was able to give them something they wanted very badly. (4x04) / Search your heart. There is something you want very badly. (2x09)

Aaravos' entire manipulation of Claudia has also been based around love—encouraging Viren to lie to her so she wouldn't break away from him and subsequently preying on her desire to keep her family together, dangling Viren's life like a carrot in front of her for two years, pushing her relentlessly on a 30 day limit, and then telling the tale of his daughter to help her perform a spell (the same spell that Callum is doing miles away) literally out of love by letting her connect it to her father.

We see where this mindset came from, of course, in S6, with Aaravos bargaining for Leola's life on the basis of love/compassion, and then to die in her place, both of which being refused. The Cosmic Council failed his test of love, and now he's out for revenge no matter the cost, as Terry says:

Maybe this started out as a story of love, but along the way, it got twisted. He isn't doing anything out of love. He's doing it for revenge.

We also know that the parallels Rayla already has to Leola are just going to be continued into S6 further.

We also know thanks to S6 that the Cosmic Council considered humans having primal magic to be "the first step in the long, slow spiral to chaos." Callum then having multiple arcanums and presumably one day going to continue to spread primal magic to more humans is definitely something they're going to be apprehensive about. Callum reclaiming the Key and Aaravos' book alongside his own identity/agency would make a lot of sense, but that reclamation is only really possible if those things were stripped away to begin with... and it's likely only one thing could strip away those things from him: the lengths he's willing to go through for love, and how love can also bring him back (much the same way Claudia's love for her family doomed her, and will ultimately likely save her).

Callum, you're the 'Destiny is a book you write yourself' guy. No one can control you or make your choices for you. (4x07)

See? So long as we protect each other, so long as we love each other, you can never control us. (5x08)

To love is simply to know this: the tides are true as the ocean is deep. (5x01, 5x08)

Love can save and destroy us, much like how Rayla is the reason Callum took (and may take again) a path of darkness and also lead him back to light (hopefully with help from Ezran). No matter how corrupted or broken, no matter what you've done before, you can be saved and can fix things and at the very least make amends.

Furthermore, if killing Leola for her mercy was what broke Xadia, saving Rayla (and her mercy) will be thematically what helps fix/save it—and also means she can save Callum afterwards, too, since he's the Hope of Xadia and changing the magical scales.

With this basis in mind, let's look at:

Alternatives

For the sake of posterity, the exact events I'm laying out in the above theory is something that looks a little like this:

Rayla is injured and/or dead / on the verge of death somehow

Aaravos (or Claudia) promises Callum can save her if he hands over the Cube

Callum does so and in turn receives the dark magic knowledge he needs to save her

He does the dark magic, and Rayla is saved

Callum is corrupted / possessed and leaves with Aaravos

This lets Ezran and Rayla come together to get him back and resolve any loose ends from their Big Different Feelings about Runaan from earlier in the season

Although Callum did play into Aaravos' hands, he will break free and live beyond Aaravos' perceived use for him, and help defeat him

Now let's talk about alternatives:

Callum doesn't get possessed

This is the only one I'm gonna rule out directly, as I don't think it's likely given the amount of set up and that S7 is Book 7: Dark. You wouldn't have Callum bring up the promise either in 4x07 or again in 6x03 if you didn't want Rayla to be faced with that choice, so he has to get possessed. That at least means a major risk of playing into Aaravos' hands, even if those plans aren't taken to fruition.

Callum gets possessed but not through dark magic use

I've seen positing that Callum could get tainted by dark magic again if he was exposed to the Lux Aurea corruption from a creature or something. I'll also toss one in, which is that perhaps you could be hit with a spell of dark magic of some kind, and have it seep into you—if not from Claudia then maybe Aaravos. Both of these options would fit to me if Callum was pushing someone (Ezran, Rayla) out of the way as that still provides an active choice. It just being happenstance because the characters were randomly attacked in a dangerous area doesn't sit right with me and the show's emphasis on choices and agency even when it would be possible and easier for characters to be more blameless, so I think there will be something along a choice rather than it just being entirely random / Callum's agency being entirely removed. Otherwise, we'd be back entirely to where we were in S4/S5 where he was tainted and open to possession no matter what through no real fault of his own (prior to 5x08); S6 giving him a clean slate also gives him agency about whether he's corrupted or not, and I think it'd be less effective if that agency wasn't utilized.

Aaravos doesn't get the cube

While nothing but canon itself (as it could pleasantly surprise me, and I'd reassess) could change my mind regarding "if Ez or Rayla were on the line, Callum would give Aaravos the key/whatever he wanted to save them" from a characterization basis, that doesn't necessarily mean the plot is going there. For example, I could see Callum just taking the dark magic deal, and then the race is on for Rayla to try and stop a corrupted Callum from delivering the cube to Aaravos. It'd have high stakes, he'd still have some faith that he could make his choice without dooming everyone because she's there to be his safety net, and it'd bring the "I hope it was worth it to you putting everyone's lives in danger" about the cube back but on Rayla's end, as she was the speaker and Callum is worth it.

Rayla gives Aaravos the Cube

I'll admit a set up scenario for this leaves me scratching my head a bit—would Callum be possessed, but Rayla had the cube for safekeeping, and she hands it over so Aaravos would release him? which isn't too dissimilar from some of the central scenario of what I've proposed—as well as it taking away from 1) Callum's agency in breaking free from possession, ironically, and 2) the Cube being his item, not hers. That said, I do expect Rayla to choose Callum over just about everything this season (including possibly the surefire safety of the world) and for the season to do the legwork to get her there from a character development standpoint, so it's not out of the question. It just currently seems unlikely.

Callum doesn't pick between Rayla or the greater good, and has a third path instead

This one is interesting to me, mostly because I'm not sure how it'd fit into the season pacing wise. As stated, I think Callum has to get possessed in the season, as that plotline has too much buildup to get dropped. I suppose that could mean something like 1) he's corrupted through other means (see bullet point number two), 2) Rayla + Ezran saves him from possession, and 3) afterwards, he's presented with a choice between her and the greater good? That could take us to the finale where he's able to find a way through Aaravos' machinations to avoid making that choice, but it does mean until that moment Callum has had little to no agency (and therefore little to no character development) in our final season of the arc. That could reflect the possession plotline's lack of agency, even if it doesn't feel quite congruent with S6 handing Callum back his full agency, but... shrug emoji?

To me, the clearest third path between not sacrificing Rayla or the greater good would be "Callum sacrifices himself in order to take down Aaravos" which could mean unlocking a super dangerous arcanum he might not come back from (Stars would probably fit best there, but Sun or Moon too?) OR doing dark magic to defeat Aaravos; the latter in particular would be a strong Viren parallel to 6x08. We would get the self sacrifice and corruption slant, but it would be without the actual possession part, even if his corrupted form would be undeniably dangerous. It would mean that Rayla is saving him without risking much else, though, which lessens the impact of her arc. This first arcanum avenue would work for a finale, with the dark magic avenue being reserved for mid season (7x04 to 7x07) as a possibility.

If there any alternative theories or ideas you've seen or have that I haven't addressed here, feel free to send them in or leave them in reblogs/replies (I definitely could've missed one, or misrepresented one)—so long as you're earnestly presenting one, and not just wanting to see it debunked because you think it's stupid and/or that people who like it are silly or foolish.

Conclusion

So, in conclusion, CHET as fully and currently posited:

Explains hy the cube is in Callum's pawn intro

Furthers set up with the cube and game motif (+ others) throughout the show

Explains he'll be corrupted and how the possession plotline will come into play

Deepens the series' theme of exchange (i.e. bringing Zym home in return for peace) and transaction (dark magic)

Culminates the setup from 4x07, 5x08, 6x03, and 6x06 in particular

Reaffirms Callum's struggle with losing his sense of self amid dark magic use and Aaravos' hold on him with literally losing himself

Allows Callum to reclaim the cube alongside his own identity once he has broken free

Develops his relationship with Rayla, as well as Rayla and Ezran's dynamic

Culminates Callum's arc in exploring Arc 2 (and the series') main theme of "love can destroy you, yes, but it can also save you" / arc 2's focus on reconciling dualities, as discussed

And I think that's about it!

If you made it through all of this—or indeed have enjoyed this pet theory for any of the 4+ years it's existed—thank you for reading and engaging with it! It was crazy to me after S5 and especially S6 that it was still on the table rather than being decidedly demolished, and I'm excited to see parts / pieces likely come to fruition in S7!

[lethalchiralium]

Tonight, Tonight, Tonight | Simon “Ghost” Riley x Wife!F!Reader

a/n: hi. this is based off of the song “there goes my life” a little. THIS IS THE ALTERNATE ENDING TO SUNDAY MORNING. featuring a very special character that i love very very very much

warnings: AFAB!Reader, mention of babies, mentions of nicu, mentions of death

summary: It was a long deployment, Ghost wanted nothing more than to come home and be Simon again.

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The last time Ghost had arrived at the airport near his home, his wife was right there with a smile and a happy, “You’re home!”

But for the first time since he married her, the tarmac was empty and the drive home in his car was more than quiet - it was so painfully silent that it sucked out the excitement he had of coming home. His right hand was settled on the steering wheel, the warm streetlights passed quickly over the car - his eyes were heavy with sleep, but he needed to get home. He didn’t know how her not greeting him felt so alarming, it was 3 in the morning. It was hard for him to recognize that the immense excitement he had in finally kissing his wife after a long and difficult ten month deployment had now vaporized, and was replaced with intense words about her safety.

Ghost was always confident in his ability to perform his duty well - he was a perfect soldier, made for battle and to serve Her Majesty. But he was rarely confident in his ability to be a perfect husband - he was almost never home, almost never able to call his beautiful wife, but he was always certain in how much he loved her. The one who never complained about his career, was happy to see him even if they had fought the night before.

He was ten minutes from home now and he wished that his phone would begin to vibrate, her beautiful name appear on his screen and he would hear her voice again. It’s been months since he was able to even contact her, the guilt eating him alive but he had to get over it. He hasn’t heard her voice in months, haven’t been able to tell her more than that he loved her and that he’d be home soon. And by God, he felt like something was wrong.

The last ten minutes of his drive were silent. He had now turned off the radio playing some sort of jazz, his bare hands gripped the steering wheel up until his car pulled into the driveway of their home. It was a nice two story house with white shutters in a quiet suburb of Wyoming. The porch light was on, he could see the front room lamp on as well through the window. He put the car in park and his right hand pulled at the bottom of his balaclava. She knew why his mask was important, why it made him feel safe but she loved to see his face. He hadn’t taken this damn thing off for anything but a quick shower when he could, so he pulled it off. The lights of the car had turned off when he pulled the key from the ignition, opening the door and getting out. He closed his door quietly, opening the trunk and retrieving his dufflebag.

As soon as the trunk clicked shut, he felt Ghost begin to leave his body and Simon came to light. His boots were feather light against the sidewalk as he walked up the path, retrieving his keys from his pocket and looking for the one key he needed.

When Ghost pushed the front door open, he immediately smelled her perfume. It wasn’t overwhelming , no - it was subtle enough for him to know that she must have been awake recently. He quietly shut the door behind him, placing the dufflebag on the floor next to it and placing his balaclava on top of it. Hopefully, she wouldn’t mind the brand new gash on his face from a couple weeks ago - he almost knew she wouldn’t. He looked to the right into the front room, seeing the couch and coffee table have their usual decorations - the standing lamp having a warm glow in the room. He kneeled down and unlaced his boots, kicking them off quietly and setting them beside the door.

He headed forwards through the foyer towards the kitchen, where only the light above the island was on - showcasing what looked like a card, standing upwards on the island. It didn’t have anything except his name on the front, so he picked it up and opened it.

Welcome home, honey - come upstairs. I have a surprise for you.

“Daddy?”

Simon looked up from the card, seeing his four year old daughter wiping her eye with her hand - the bear that Price had given her was clutched in her arm. His hand dropped the card and the man behind the mask kneeled immediately, arms opened up as the little girl ran to him. Her face was full of tears as he pulled his little girl into his chest, his nose buried into her chestnut hair. She smelled of his wife’s perfume and of shampoo, he kissed her hair as she softly cried into his chest. His cheek rested at the crown of his daughter’s head, it was like all of the anger and despair in his head vanished as soon as he held her.

Simon loved his wife, he did. But the love for her was nothing compared to his love for his daughter, the one who had been in his life longer than his wife.

“You should be in bed, Winnie.” He whispered, she shook her head.

“Bad dreams, Daddy. I wanted to come and wait for you ‘cause I missed you.” His arm rested under her bottom before he stood, his other hand held her head as she leaned back to look at his face. Her open hand rested on his cheek, right on top of that deep red healing scar. “You’re hurt.”

“No, love. I’m not hurting anymore.” The hand holding his daughter’s head moved to wipe tears from her pink cheeks. Her brown eyes blinked away more tears, his hand rested on her tiny cheek. “Let’s go to bed.”

“Okay.” She patted his cheek, he kissed her forehead before she rested her head on his shoulder. “I missed you, Daddy.”

Simon began towards the stairs, patting her back gently. “I missed you so much, my little love.” He made sure to walk quietly up the stairs, missing every creaky step as he carried his daughter. “We’re gonna go to bed, and the bad dreams are gonna go away.”

“Are you gonna make them go away?” She mumbled as he gently pushed the door to her room open, he made sure he didn’t trip or step on any of her toys. He moved towards her small bed and leaned down to place his daughter upon it. He kneeled beside her bed, brushing her hair from her face as she still had tears fall down her face.

“They’ll go away because I said so,” He whispered, forcing himself to smile a little. He pet her head and wiped her tears again. “Go to sleep.”

“I love you.”

“Go to sleep.” He whispered, pinching her cheek before looking at the green bear tucked in her arm. “Tell your bear to go to sleep.”

Winnie looked down at the bear. “Go to sleep, Pricey.”

He internally grimaced at the name of the bear, but he wasn’t allowed to complain. Price was her godfather and hopefully her favorite uncle. He nodded before standing, turning away to walk out of the door.

“I looove you.” Winnie spoke a little louder, her father turned back to her.

Simon took two years to finally say those words to Winnie’s mother before she died. It took him three years to even figure out that he was in love with his wife, six months to propose, and another month to elope - it took him three years and seven months to say those words to the woman who cared for his child while he was away, the woman who kept his bed warm at night and carved a place for herself in his freezing cold heart.

It took two minutes for Simon to say those three words to Winnie when she lay in the NICU, swearing to her and himself that Winnie would be loved how his mother loved him. He said it to her because no one knew if she was going to live past the night. He got over the ban he made on that sentence in two minutes for a premature baby, even though he made himself a different person every time he walked out of his front door.

Simon Riley made a promise to his daughter that he will always love her.

“I love you too, Winter.” And with that, he turned and closed the door silently behind him. He looked to his left, seeing the hallway bathed in warm light from the lamp in his bedroom.

His footsteps were silent as he made his way towards it, he could feel the ten month deployment slip from his shoulders as soon as he nudged the door open with his knuckles. The room looked almost like it did when he left, except you were sat up against the headboard, covered up to your collarbone by a blanket with a wide smile on your face.

He was across the room in three strides, knee then driven into the bed as his hand slipped behind your neck and his lips smashed against yours. His other hand rested on your jaw, but your one hand pulled him away for air. He quickly pulled off his black t-shirt, almost panting.

“Hi.” Was your response before your fingers carded into his dirty blonde hair, he smirked.

“Hi.”

“You’re going to wake up your surprise.” You leaned back up to his lips, he peppered kisses along your bottom lip before moving to your jaw.

“Winnie?” Kiss on your cheek while the hand holding your jaw was removed by his hand and his other knee now rested on the other side of you, trapping your legs. “No, she was awake. I already put her to bed.” Kiss to underneath your ear, then to your palm as he sat back and gazed at you. “What?”

The hand he held moved to settle on his cheek, petting it. “Simon.”

He knew it. Something was wrong. His smirk dropped as his voice went lower, “What’s wrong?”

Your eyes gazed into his hazel-green tint eyes and whispered, “Don’t be upset with me.”

The claw of uncertainty almost punctured his cold heart as its friends curled around it. His hand left yours and both of them moved to settle on your jaw. “Tell me.”

There was a soft mewl that came from your chest, but it wasn’t you. Your hand returned to the blanket now, and carefully pulled it down from your collarbone, revealing the surprise. Simon froze when he looked at the creature on your chest.

It was a baby. A small, slumbering baby whose head rested just below your collarbone, dressed in a green onesie.

The soft and rapid breaths felt comforting on your skin, your hands now rested on the back of your baby. His hands retracted and he sat back, eyes not ever leaving the figure bundled on your chest.

“She’s yours.” You mumbled as you leaned down to kiss the little girl on the top of her head. “Begged to get contact with you but it fell on deaf ears.”

Simon hovered over your knees by an inch or so, still towering over you. His hands sat like putty almost on your thighs, he didn’t even blink.

You looked to him, almost seeing the turmoil behind his eyes. Your hand went out and grabbed his, he didn’t pull away. “Simon, say something.”

Guilt had shot a hole through his heart. You were alone, this whole time? What if you died? This was one of the things he wanted to be there for, since he wasn’t there long for the pregnancy that was Winnie with his ‘friend’. All he could do was stare at the baby on your chest, watch her breathe.

He has another daughter, the one he thought would only be fictional.

He didn’t even know that his hand had reached out to rest on top of yours on the baby, the breath in his lungs felt like water, heavy. He had missed so much already.

“What…” He was almost speechless, wanting to go and curse God for not letting him be here, curse at the universe for making him feel like he has a purpose for his country and not his… His…

Family.

“Mellie.” You whispered, squeezing his hand. “Short for Melody. I wanted you to give her her middle name.”

His eyes moved from his baby to you again, swallowing his guilt and speaking, “Ivy.” He squeezed your hand back. His mom’s name.

“Melody Ivy Riley.” You whispered.

He nodded before leaning forwards and placing a much softer kiss to your lips, pulling away his hand to rest on your cheek. His lips separated from yours, he gazed at your beautiful face. “Thank you.”

The little baby began to whine a little, he moved his hand away from her as if he hurt her. You did as well, both of you looked down at the creature. You looked back at Simon, kissing his cheek.

His hands almost engulfed Mellie as he very gently pulled her from her mother’s chest, she began to whine again but became quiet when her head rested on his chest. He easily pivoted on his knee to now sit beside you, his head turned down to gaze at Mellie. She was warm, quiet - she was fast asleep again. Your head rested on his shoulder, your own hand settled on his.

“I love you.” You whispered as you kissed his skin.

“I love you.” He answered before leaning down and kissing the little one. And all he could think of was how not only would he watch Winnie grow, he would watch this one too. Hope that her first word is ‘Dada’, hope he can watch her first steps - hope to one day teach Winnie to teach Mellie to curse, to teach his girls to drive, to watch as they go off to university. He watched Winnie’s life fly by, and he wanted to enjoy this one, stay in this home and watch her grow.

And he thought, Good night, little love.

“I love you, Mellie.”

———

Copyright © 2022 lethalchiralium. All rights reserved.

[kuijoon]

Sampo used to be a self-annihilator before becoming a masked fool

Note: this is a crack theory(?) (not even a theory tbh as I don’t really think it’s true and more so a different view on him)

First of all, this started with the similarities between Acheron and Sampo. Dark hair with white parts, dead snake imagery, diamond shaped pupils, leaving purple slashes in the air with their weapon, both nihility, etc. Obviously, this isn’t enough to warrant speculating about Sampo being connected to Acheron/the self-annihilators, so let me elaborate:

White hair: As we know, Acheron has a streak of white hair and completely white hair when she is in her alternative form. Self-annihilators are mentioned to “lose their color” as time goes on, which I think the white hair symbolizes. Sampo also has white hair, however it only is at the end of his hair (=he was losing his color back when he was a self-annihilator but after escaping the nihility and becoming a masked fool, it stopped- I’ll explain this idea more later on)

Snake imagery: As I think every Sampo fan is aware, he has skeletal snake imagery all over his design and it was even confirmed to be intended by hyv in the notes discussing Sampo’s beta design. Acheron possesses some of it too, albeit much less prominent: the spine thing on her back, similar belt decoration to Sampo’s, long spine painted (like that of a snake) on her sleeve, diamond eyes that could kind of resemble that of a snake (just like Sampo btw) and a spine in the background of her splash art. She even has a shoulder guard like Sampo, although it doesn’t directly resemble a snake and more so a vague bone structure (then again Sampo’s snake design elements are exclusively from snake bones). Other than Acheron, we have another known self-annihilator that features snake imagery; the one from the SU occurrence “Kindling of the Self-Annihilator”. Here, they are described as someone who’s a serpent below their waist, with dark green scales that give off a metallic glint- may be a coincidence, but for the sake of this theory I will choose to believe it’s intentional.

Besides Acheron’s and Sampo’s similarities, there are also a few more reasons to support this:

Aha saving a self-annihilator: In the Swarm disaster, Lepismat Part VI, Aha pays a self-annihilator a visit and they are described to have a “heartfelt smile on their face”, as if being rescued from the nihility’s pull due to Aha. Now, my theory would be that the same happened to Sampo- he was slowly fading away (his hair started to turn white), but then Aha showed up for whatever reason and Sampo was able to get out of IX’s shadow, becoming part of the masked fools instead when he realized the joy of life- turning from nihilism to absurdism, as the two concepts are closely intertwined anyway (hair stopped turning white).

Sampo’s in-game path is nihility: Now, if what I said before was true and Sampo stopped following the nihility, why would his in-game path being nihility support this? Well, I think don’t think that he has to completely turn away from nihility- as I already said the nihility and elation are closely connected in the belief that nothing matters, so still having sharing some beliefs would make sense to me.

Anyway that’s it for now (probably forgot something but wtv)

[wintersongstress]

— fiancé;

A/N: This is very sappy but I don't think I'm sorry 🫣

As the lush slopes of the English countryside sails past the window, there is no sense of past or present in Simon’s mind. With your hand in his, all the rest floats away, a blur of green and white, and he is lulled for the first time into a dream of a future—hopeful, solid, and within his grasp. Not the smoke and haze it used to be, but a vision which gathered light and clarity. Like dawn on a riverbank, the fog which settles after a long, cool night lifts. Suddenly Simon could imagine the sunrise of being yours and all the days that came after.

You are none the wiser to his pivotal reflections, absorbed in reading a novel while the train wends smoothly along the rail tracks. Your hand is nestled safely in his and you occasionally stroke a thumb over his knuckle. The sun twists a kaleidoscope of streaks across your features, with patches of sky in-between the forest hues, and he is transfixed in this moment. If only his squad mates could see him now, Simon thinks. He always got as far away from it all as he could when he was on leave. When he was with you. He softened into someone else, someone he liked to be.

Never in his life had being with someone and spending time with them felt so liberating and worthwhile, nor brought him such serene happiness. Together, you made memories he wishes he could trap in time, like an insect encapsulated in amber.

That morning, he had followed your adventure-seeking whims out of bed, into packing a lunch and dressing for sunshine, and hopping on a train out of the noise of the city. Through the sprawling, picturesque gardens of one of England’s many castles, you walked beside him, your graceful arm looped through the solidity of his. He liked it that way: showing the world this beautiful woman was his, and how he intended to keep her. Anyone could plainly see that the two of you were together, and were happy.

The air smelled of summer grass and a pond rippled with the glide of two swans where you found a place to rest this afternoon, at the water’s edge beneath the drooping shade of a willow. On a blanket you spent the better part of an hour lying within the mystery of those branches swaying in the dreaming wind, meanwhile Simon kissed and kissed you, long and deep, slow and sweet. Your skirt petaled around your legs and you smiled up at him, tracing the divot of his nose with a fingertip before he brought his mouth to yours again.

Though your blouse had hitched above your waist and the skin of your stomach was warm and soft beneath his wandering palm, he kept his caresses leashed; docile and satisfied. When he gazed at you—at the inimitable color of your eyes, the tilt of your smile, and the subtle furrow of your brow—all his heart could think was, my love, and pressed his forehead to yours. And it was enough. It was all he wanted. What more could he ask for?

Presently, you flip a page, and the sunlight catches the silver of your earrings—glittering, graceful, drawing his eyes down the elegant column of your neck. His fingers were in the mindless midst of tracing the lines of your palm, searching, he realized, for the one which promised a long life. With him. That was what he wanted. And the revelation makes him stop short.

He wanted to put a ring on that caring, loving hand which laid in his. Simon knew it with more certainty than anything. How pretty the sight would be, how complete the picture. To feel the facets of an emblematic stone beneath his thumb would make it all real and cast all the pain endured in his life far behind.

Upon reaching the summit of his thoughts, a feeling seizes his gut, worse than the leap out of a plane to descend into a combat zone. He never imagined this for himself; all the happiness, security, and commitment he was ready to provide for you which seemingly came from thin air. But what was more terrifying was the alternative: letting you go. Never choosing that path the one and only time it opened up to him. Never being brave enough to be the man who goes after what he wants and communicates it.

Sensing his shift in mood, your hand slides out of his grasp, trailing up his forearm. He finds your gaze fixed to him, soft with a question, oblivious to his tumultuous epiphany. There was no mask he could put on with you: it was all plainly written on his face. The way you sidle closer, pressing your arm against his, the roiling doubt and uncertainty abates and the fabric of the dream weaves tight. If he were to ask, you would say yes. Because you’re tracing that same line in his palm with the same intent, and his heart beats again.

[lady-quen]

End of the Line

"A lifeless mannequin, dancing on strings. Each string spoke to him in the thousand hushed voices of magic. It hurt. Each string begged him to usher his body back together. The Alchemy danced behind his eyes. A silver serpent, swallowing its own tail. It fucking hurt. It isn't over, it said. You made it so." "You killed your death, now live with it."

[Post-EoD drabble, 3k words, just exploring the consequences of people finding out my Commander a is a lich. Part of joint canon with @commanderteag (Maolmuire used with permission.) Angst, tw for decapitation, swearing, fantasy racism. I took some very mild creative liberties with the Pact status and the Void.]

Even times of newfound peace still had their work cut out for what remained of the Pact.

The original plan had been to dissolve after Jormag and Primordus. Then, after Soo-Won. And now, with Void stragglers remaining all around the world, he was in charge of the strike forces in a large-scale round-em-up-and-neutralize operation. Because of course he would be - the famed Pact Commander that he was. At least the rounding up part was easy, with choice waypoints repurposed into ley-line beacons at Taimi's suggestion. One he took gladly, with the haze beast as the precedent for Void's attraction to energy nexi.

At least, this time, his emotions weren't being used as the lure. Even if the calculations were just barely within the margin of error, his daughter's plan was working.

"Sir! We've got sightings in the canyon!" Elina, one of the scouts, reported. Maelmordha nodded, comms device clicking to life.

"Hundar Pike strike force! On my mark, unload all explosives into the valley!"

"Demolitionist Tirxxi reporting! All troops in position!"

Splendid. Despite last minute adjustments when the Void headed down an alternate path, everything was going more or less smoothly. Much easier this way - if this continued to go well enough, nobody would even have to engage the enemy in ground combat. He alone would likely be more than sufficient to pick off the leftovers. A bitter smile graced his features in anticipation. Ever since Aurene had departed into slumber, he could no longer count on that little miracle atop the Harvest Temple. And so, he had to make this work without her.

The Void was already dying out, but the last of it congregated in areas most affected by the late Elder Dragons. Though waiting was certainly an option, there was always the risk of further loss of life - and so, mobilizing the army for one final cleanup was the most logical course of action. The Commander's voice once again entered the channel.

"Site Alpha confirmed, reached. Team Alpha, on my mark... Now!"

He could feel the explosion from miles away. The ground itself shook as a decent part of the canyon collapsed into itself, burying the monsters below in a rockslide, clouds of gunpowder, and an avalanche for good measure. Freeform Void attempted to bleed through out of the cracks before dissolving into the air without particular fanfare.

He repeated the order for site Beta, cutting off the encroaching shadows and closing the valley behind them. Perfect. Like sheep herded to the slaughter - without the mind behind it, the chaotic element was as directionless as any other dragon minions left without their master.

Still, where it was directionless, it was certainly not a complete pushover. The final act drew close; Descend into the valley on-foot with Legion choppers monitoring closely from above. If it gets ugly, fall back. It shouldn't, but he was no fool to risk his troops like so.

"Lieutenant Tornbanner. Everett. Cinniod. Maolmuire. We're going in."

"Sir yes Sir!"

A small contingent of shock troopers under Tornbanner, Everett's medics, Cinniod's mages and Maolmuire would be more than enough to make quick work of whatever creatures still clawed their way out of the snow. There weren't many, and most were already far too dazed by the explosion and distracted by the ley line energy wafted into the canyon to be as much of a threat in close quarters as they used to be during the Canthan campaign. And so, in they went.

Two dozen pairs of boots touched the ground when suddenly, the Commander raised up an arm, signaling for the soldiers to wait. His gaze, fixed on the heaps of rubble, was unreadable.

"...Allow me to handle this by myself. Stay behind and make sure nothing sneaks up on any of us. Eyes and ears wide open."

He did have a rather poor track record with magical lures. It would be for the best if he went on ahead and cleared the way, with the others as backup but otherwise out of harm's way. The unmistakable spires of Brand crystals shimmered all around him in their rich, purple hue, framing an entrance underground. Kralkatorrik. Guess a piece of the old man remained beneath the canyon, after all. Not that completely erasing an Elder Dragon's influence from the world was easy, even for another one. Forces this old had their roots set firmly in the world.

A part of him wondered whether she really wanted to purge every last trace of her grandfather. These crystals, now dormant - in a sense, were they not the final keepsake she still had of him..?

Did she remember him? Were the Dragons not connected by some sort of Dream? Did it possess past memories, as well? Did she know what he was like before he -

Went mad. Razed billions. Slaughtered her mother.

Something turned deep within his gut, a familiar pain he did not expect. Visions of a burning blade, the same one that took his life - and an asuran prodigy, the only other mortal he had known who stood, with him, at the precipice of immortality. How did it feel..? To achieve the state he had. Locked within the chassis of a machine, mind uploaded into ones and zeroes. A novel form of life, if it could be called that.

Blish, do you think you were alive?

He descended further into the cave, Banner warband watching closely behind.

My golem body kept me safe, but... if anything happened to you, I'd never forgive myself.

Forgiveness. What a fleeting concept, comparably far easier to give than to receive. He stared into the brilliant violet. Hey, old friend... are you in there, still..? Do you "forgive" me?

Killing and corrupting... it's what you do. It's what you were born to do.

W - what?

A harsh left, swords pointed at nothing. Gold eyes blinking against the crystal gleam before turning to face his troops. The Commander gave a reassuring nod - nothing here, either.

He wasn't sure whether whatever he heard was a voice inside his mind or a product of stress. Perhaps both. Perhaps neither. The crystals had eyes.

Could a dead thing feel..? This wasn't Kralkatorrik. He was gone. And yet, there was a distinct sorrow within the air, and each step felt like moving through mud. He couldn't help but wonder: Did the beast regret all that he had killed? Was this a final vestige of his tortured soul, buried in hopes of never again seeing sunlight? Was what Aurene had been doing all this time..?

It wasn't just to erase his corruption. It was to erase his pain. Kralkatorrik, he... couldn't rest easy until he was gone to the very last, it seemed. But what about Blish? Was he gone, too, or was he suspended in that hellish state of darkness? Unable to pass on until the silent prison holding him was destroyed without a trace? Dear Mother, why did everything have to always end in boundless suffering?

And it was then that he realized. The miscalculation was not a miscalculation. They accounted for it, yes, but the Void? It hadn't been following the ley line at all.

It was following Kralkatorrik's torment.

The ground shook. Tendrils of black slithering through bedrock, snaking around Brand pillars.

Several malformed creatures emerged, taking on shapes of the long dead in a chaotic masquerade. Icebrood. Risen. Branded. Destroyers. Mordrem.

"Fall back!" Maelmordha wasted no time. This was bad terrain - a chokepoint. They needed to make it back out into the open, into a direct sightline with the choppers, should all this go south even faster than it was already going.

Wherever he was involved, things had a habit of turning to shit. SNAFU, indeed. At least then, his presence usually prevented the situation from escalating from merely "shit" to "fucked beyond measure and then some."

He was not about to let anyone die this time.

For you. Trahearne, Eir, Almorra, Blish, and too many others to count.

"I'll hold them back! Go! Go! Go!" A swift cut from Lædingr ended a charging Icebrood. Black ooze splashed his armor, sizzling where it hit. "Don't worry about me, I'll be right behind you!"

It was a lie. But, hah, he was very much planning on surviving. Call him a control freak - but this? How this ended was entirely up to him.

No more hesitation. No more loss. No more -

Vaughn Tornbanner's matchlock took out one last Mordrem before the Lieutenant herded his warband outside, the charr providing cover for escaping medics. Flame and lightning magic crackled all around them, lashing out against whatever unlucky monsters sought a bite of the Commander's forces. Here and there, phantom mirages of the fourth Knight of Thorn distracted and incinerated foes with beams of light.

There was more Void here than they had ever accounted for. Even in its death throes, it closed in like a storm.

The diabolist focused, and shade magic enveloped his form. The necromantic fire in his blades erupted into a blaze of blue, his once-gold eyes opening to the same, cold hue. Rows of fangs unfurled upon his chest, a full-body snarl.

In the shimmering dragon amethyst, he swore he could glimpse an image of a small and sickly asura. In life, Blish had mirrored Taimi so closely.

His lips moved, soundless. There was judgement in his eyes.

The front line of Void creatures suddenly stopped, phantom hooks digging into the mass of writhing shadow as his chains constricted all like hungry serpents. With a sickening crunch, the bodies before him were warped, limbs torn from their sockets, necks snapped, multicolor eyes fading in the flash freeze of death. He exhaled a puff of frigid breath, attempting to channel enough ice to seal over the entrance. In his chanting, Grenth's own magic - permafrost extending out of his palm in an explosion of crystalline shards.

The Void. It was trapped... finally.

"Commander!" There was abject terror in Cinniod's voice. Several people gasped. Maelmordha made a single step to turn around, dual blades still held firmly within his grasp.

"Everyone! Is everyone -"

There was the vague sensation of something cold passing through his flesh. A blur of black and technicolor, a flash of steel on his left - his eyes followed it, and then it was on his right. He... his neck... hurt.

Something strange happened to his vision and he watched his own body collapse with a thud against the ice wall. Rivulets of gold quickly seeping into black fabric as he convulsed and fell slack, Dromi and Lædingr falling from the grasp of still-twitching fingers.

"Holy shit." Someone commented, eloquently.

Vaughn's rifle and Maolmuire's blade made short work of the beast who had mysteriously gotten behind the seal.

"Commander..!" A cacophony of meaningless voices that only registered as though from underwater. Gibberish. People shouting, shuffling closer, then back again in sheer disbelief. Distant sounds of magic and gunfire, a yelled warning as more Void began to close in, this time having dug itself out of the avalanche resting outside. Someone at his side, clearly shell-shocked, calling for a medic.

What... what was... going on..? His senses, suspended and disembodied. He willed his hands to move and watched them do so, as though he were a puppetmaster observing his doll.

A lifeless mannequin, dancing on strings. Each string spoke to him in the thousand hushed voices of magic. It hurt. Each string begged him to usher his body back together. The Alchemy danced behind his eyes. A silver serpent, swallowing its own tail. It fucking hurt. It isn't over, it said. You made it so.

You killed your death, now live with it.

The body slumped against the ice seized, more sap spurting out of the stump of its neck. But his spirit held dominion over it yet. That foolish, foolish spirit. Fists clenched, feeling the familiar shape of sword handles. It was jarring. Utterly disorienting, but he closed his eyes, and he allowed the puppet strings of his curse to guide his movements. And he rose, like the countless dead he once commanded.

Now upright, the lich's body stumbled over to where his head lay. He released Lædingr and felt his own fingers in his leaves, and then he willed them to lift.

Only then did he open his eyes. Nothing but blackness and striking blue. Phantom pain pulsed throughout his flesh, and it maddened him. Even now, disconnected from his lungs, he let out a broken laugh - it seemed to reverberate, like the voice of a ghost. The Pact forces turned to face him. Several drew their weapons.

The implications of everything that transpired in this cave would wait.

"Just... let me handle this. Nobody dies here... but me."

He was the expendable one. He was the sacrificial lamb. And he was the wolf, draped in lambskin. Every death he took instead of another was penance. His every breath was a lie, for as long as nobody knew the true extent of the monster he really was.

Blish' mechanized voice echoed in his mind. This is the end of the line.

No more secrets.

That's right. He was the accursed; The Commander of Death. And all his fallen subjects haunted him.

Maelmordha stepped out of the darkness, Dromi hovering patiently next to his hand as he cast a spell. Without a shred of mercy, phantom fangs crushed the few Void creatures that still remained, grinding them into less than the dust they had come from. And then, all was quiet. Only the winter wind and the buzz of ley magic in his ears.

The Pact troops slowly approached, and with a deep sadness he realized most of their weapons were pointed at him. Their eyes, reflections of terror. And he realized he was still holding his head like a grocery bag.

The necromancer loudly cleared his throat - if a ghostly impression of doing so counted.

"...Excuse me." He fumbled for a moment to place his head where it used to be, making several adjustments before what seemed like blue fire began to knit his flesh back together.

"I think I'm going to be sick." Cinniod confessed, knees giving out as the elementalist violently dry-heaved into the snow. Several worried voices chattered, indistinct. Indecisive. He couldn't blame them - after all, they had just witnessed their hero turn out to be a villain. Perhaps Joko had been right - at least in the sense that both of them were abominations.

Perhaps the world would one day need saving - from him. But until then, he could still work to make it better.

"Soldiers."

His troops shuffled uncomfortably. They had every right to. Monster, someone snarled. He smiled.

"A good friend once told me.. to stop keeping secrets. I admit I fumbled that spectacularly. So, now, there you have it."

"Fucking knew you can't have killed a god." Vaughn spat, lips trembling over angry fangs. He raised his rifle, claw hovering dangerously over the lever. "Without selling your soul for power."

He laced his fingers, and smiled apologetically. There was no resentment in his eyes, only understanding. No words to make it better. Only open ears, to hear what was overdue. The price for this betrayal. At the very least, he had managed to keep up the act until the Dragon War was over. This operation? He would gladly step down if asked. Though Logan had been aware from the start, they both agreed on one thing: keep it under wraps. And if the cat ever gets out of the bag, then, well...

"Soldier." He addressed the charr. "While we're still on the field, your behavior is mutiny. Reconsider."

"Fucking bold of you to talk, monster!"

"And pray tell, what will shooting me accomplish that cutting off my head failed to?"

The Lieutenant snarled, but slowly lowered his gun. Bronze eyes gazing with nothing but pure disgust at the sylvari who seemed to be, despite all, a picture of flawless stoicism. All a part of his charm. Every liar needed a strong façade.

The Commander opened his mouth to speak. Maolmuire, however, had other ideas.

"Everyone! Don't you know the Void's properties have been evolving? Didn't you hear about the haze in the Gyala Depths?"

Maelmordha sighed. "Maolmuire..."

"It's messing with us. This is a mass hallucination!"

It seemed he had to be more... forceful.

"Maolmuire, stop! You've said enough."

"You're complicit, huh, you malformed weed?" Tornbanner sneered. "All you hivemind bastards were in on it from the get-go."

The necromancer focused his gaze on the Iron Legionnaire, something dark in his eyes that sent a shiver of dread up the warrior's spine. "I'm asking for the last time, Lieutenant Tornbanner. As for everyone else. I do not intend to falsify the truth, and welcome those who wish to report the incident to do so at their leisure."

He could feel an era close with his words. Despite everything, still he smiled. Time and time again, he found a way to smile in the face of those who doubted him. Always, he would.

"It is overdue that I stand in front of the Pact War Tribunal for my crime against Tyria and her people. But first... Lieutenant, report. Is everyone alright?"

Something shifted behind Vaughn's eyes. Flews slipping over jutting fangs - a predator that only stood down knowing its might to be no use. Not in front of a Godkiller. A Dragonslayer. A... whatever this man even was.

"Nobody was badly hurt... Maelmordha." The name tasted like venom on his tongue. "I answered you. So now, you'll answer us."

"I will, rest assured." Without further ado, the choppers descended, extending ladders. The necromancer looked away, turning his gaze to the sky.

"Everyone. It was an honor to be your Commander."

[wolfjackle-creates]

Ghost!Robin Part 13

THE DINNER ENDS!!!!!! Dear god, I need to write something that has less than seven characters present in the currently-being-written scene. This segment will be a bit longer than most previous ones simply because I was so close to the end.

Story Summary: Danny was invited to dinner at Wayne Manor to meet Jazz's boyfriend and his family for the first time. He worked hard to make sure no ghost business would interrupt the evening. But when he arrived, all he could focus on was the ghost of the dead Robin that seemed to haunt Jason. Looks like he was breaking his promise.

First, Previous

Word Count: 1.9k

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“Look, I’ve faced both an evil future version of me and have had to deal with mind control.” He looked to Bruce and, serious now, said, “As soon as the Anti-Ecto Acts are repealed and the Guys in White disbanded, I will help you write those plans myself.”

Bruce gave a single nod. “Do you know what caused you to turn evil in the alternate time stream?”

Danny sighed and nodded. “Believe it or not, I cheated on a standardized exam.”

“Okay, what?” asked Tim, incredulous. “What sort of 2000s PSA life do you live? How did that lead you down the path to evil?”

Danny frowned. “I got caught, my teacher met with Jazz, my partners, and my parents at a local restaurant to discuss it. There was an explosion and the entire place blew up killing every single person I was close to. I was then sent to live with Vlad where things got worse.”

Duke let out a low whistle. “Damn. I think I’d go evil, too, under that pressure.”

Robin flew over to him and draped himself over Danny’s back, hugging him as tightly as he could. Jazz reached over and gripped his hand. He gave her a smile and squeezed back.

Bruce nodded. “But it sounds like a future that is unlikely to happen again.”

“Grandpa says the same thing. And since he’s the Ghost of Time, I try to believe him.”

Tim made a noise of agreement. “Be glad you have that assurance. I’ve an evil future self as well. He’s such an asshole.”

Danny forced a laugh, recognizing the attempt at levity. “I’m sure. How’d you get yours to go away?”

He shrugged. “The obvious way. Threatened to kill myself so I could never grow up into him.”

Dick spluttered from his spot next to Damian. “I’m sorry, you did what? Tim! How could you?”

Tim shrugged. “Better than having an evil, gun-using Batman running around.”

Bruce was now sitting with his head in his hands. The rest of the table also started yelling at Tim, the references and names making no sense to Danny who looked over to Jazz. She just shrugged at him.

Leaning over, he whispered in her ear, “At least your in-laws won’t be too freaked out when weird things happen around you.”

She laughed. “Yeah. Honestly, I’m glad this is how the evening ended. It means no more secrets between Jason and me.”

“Guys, enough!” shouted Tim. “Look, I’m fine. This happened ages ago. But I promise I’ll update my incident report so you can all snoop on it later. Now, if you’ve all forgotten, we have guests. And ones who can help us with our League troubles. Danny, you had questions about the Lazarus pits?”

“Yeah, uh, you said it can be used to heal people? How does that work?” To Jason, he added, “And how did you interact with it?”

“I was dunked in it,” said Jason with a shrug. “After I’d been revived. I wasn’t in my right mind and Damian’s mom thought it might help.”

Robin nodded and signed something.

Dick translated for the ghost. “Baby Jason says the pit tied him and Big Jason together, but also prevented them from actually combining into one person again.”

Danny looked between them. “You were submerged in a pool of bubbling ectoplasm? How the hell did that not kill you? That shouldn’t be possible for a human. I doubt it’d be good for a ghost!” No wonder his future brother-in-law was split in two. That was probably the best that could be expected.

Danny hadn’t even realized how hard he was projecting concern until Robin trilled back at him to calm him down. Danny took a deep breath and pulled in his aura. “Sorry, Robin. I do think I’d like to get you both in to see my doctor as soon as possible, though.”

Jazz cleared her throat. “We can discuss that at home.”

Bruce stared at him. “Do you think they can help Jason?”

Danny shrugged. “He knows the most about ghost-human hybrids of anyone. If anything can be done, he’ll know.”

“I will go with you,” Bruce said.

Danny immediately shook his head. “Nope. I won’t bring anyone from Earth into the Realms until the Anti-Ecto acts are repealed. And only Jason can invite people to his private medical check up.”

Steph pouted. “But Jason is from Earth. Sure, he’s got some weird thing going on, but why does he get to go exploring other dimensions?”

“Cause he’s dead. He belongs to the Infinite Realms just as much as he belongs to Earth. I’m not gonna block someone from accessing their home.”

“I’m not dead!” yelled Jason. “I’m alive.”

Danny winced. He’d have to talk to Jazz about that. Death wasn’t really a thing that could be recovered from. Not fully. But it wasn’t his place to tell Jason he was still dead if he wasn’t ready to hear that. Jazz or Frostbite could have that conversation. “Of course you’re alive. And Earth is your home, too. But you’ve got one in the Realms if you ever need or want it. Think of it like dual citizenship.”

“I don’t want it.”

Danny sighed. “Look, then the part of you that is manifesting as Robin has a place there and you two can’t be separated so you’re allowed to follow him. It’s the only way I’ll be able to get you in to see the best doctor to help you out.”

“Jason,” Jazz spoke gently and rested her hand on his forearm, “you’re still alive. Nothing about your situation has changed. You just have some more information and more help. Which is a good thing.”

Jason frowned and didn’t answer, choosing instead to glare at his dinner plate.

No one else spoke up until Alfred cleared his throat. “Well, I believe that we should wrap the conversation up here. We’ve all received quite a lot of information and will need some time to review it and consider our next steps.”

Danny nodded. “Yeah, I think— Wait, um, before we end this, would you have a sample of the Lazarus Water I could take to Frostbite?” At the confused looks he was given, he added, “The doctor I mentioned. I think it’d help him figure out how best to help Jason and Robin.”

Bruce exchanged looks Danny couldn’t interpret with Damian and Tim before speaking. “We’ll have to discuss it. Would we be able to give you our answer in two days? At the very least, we’d like to have the report from your friend first.”

Danny shrugged. “Sure. The sooner the better, though. I’ll call Tucker on the way to Jazz and Jason’s. We’ll put something together for you tonight. I’m not sure exactly how long it’ll take, though. Depends on how much sleep Tuck’s running on.”

Bruce merely nodded.

Dick laughed and got to his feet. “Well, it’s been an absolute pleasure getting to know you. Welcome to the craziness of the Wayne family. It sounds like Jazz and you will fit right in. Let me walk you out.”

His words seemed to be a signal to the rest of the family. Most of whom also rushed over to try and insist on walking them out.

Until Jason shouted, “Enough! We don’t need a crowd to follow us to Jazz’s car. You can say goodbye from here just as easily.”

Dick pouted but acquiesced. Only after pulling Jason into a hug, though. Jason forced Dick to let him go only for Robin to rush in and take his place to Dick’s delight. After separating, they signed something to each other that had Jason blushing and scowling.

And then Dick moved on to hug Jazz, then Danny. “Come back anytime,” he told Danny. “Whether or not those two are with you. B meant it when he said you would have a room here.”

But then Steph was pushing Dick to the side to give Danny a hug as well. “What’s your phone number? I so want whatever blackmail you get on Jason. And I’ll share some of what I have.”

Danny laughed, but did agree to exchange numbers before the Duke was in front of him.

“Dude, you have to come by more often. It’s so annoying being the only meta around here.”

“I’ll see what I can do,” Danny promised.

When Tim came over, he insisted on adding both Danny and Jazz to some of the family group chats. “If you give me your sister’s number, I’ll add her in, too.”

Jazz shook her head. “We’ll have to confirm she wants to be added in first. And ask her if she’d like an introduction to Superboy.”

“His name’s Kon. Kon-El. I’ll message him tonight, too. I’m sure he’d love to meet her.”

“Dani will say yes,” said Danny, “but she doesn’t always reply right away. We’ll let you know as soon as we hear from her.”

Then Tim was being pushed aside by Barbara who wanted to make sure he knew how to send them the information about ghosts and the Realms. And Cass was waving goodbye.

Bruce was the last of the group to approach them. “Remember, if you ever need a place to stay or want to lay low, you can come here any time. Even if you just want a warm meal. Your sister as well.”

“Thanks, Bruce,” said Jazz. “We do really appreciate that. You don’t have to offer it.”

“But I want to. Jason…” he trailed off before trying again. “I would like it if you kept me informed with any updates to your condition.”

Jason rolled his eyes. “Right, because you want to know how much of a liability I am.”

If anything, Bruce’s face became more closed off at those words. “That’s not… Hn.”

Robin rolled his eyes, somehow visible despite his mask, and flew over to hug Bruce around the waist. Danny couldn’t make sense of the expression Bruce wore as he looked down at the ghost and though his arms twitched, he didn’t return the hug.

Alfred smoothly stepped forward before anyone could say anything. “Well, now that the goodbyes have all been said, I will walk you four out.”

Jason shook his head. “You don’t have to, Alfie. I know the way.”

“Of course you do, Master Jason. But I insist. We’ll stop by the kitchens and I’ll send you home with leftovers.”

Danny tried to hide his smile as Jason merely turned and walked in the direction of the kitchens. It seemed no one argued against Alfred. Once in the kitchens, they were given so much food to take home it required all three to carry it, then Alfred was leading them out a side door which brought them to the drive where Jazz’s car was parked.

Jazz nudged him and nodded her head towards the car. Danny nodded and followed her in while Jason, Alfred, and Robin remained outside to talk for a minute.

Danny took the back seat and met Jazz’s eyes in the rear-view mirror.

She gave him a wry smile and said, “What a night, huh?”

Danny snickered before bursting out into full-on laughter, Jazz joining a breath behind him.

-----

Next

Tim totally spilled the beans about Gun Batman to get people distracted from Danny. He's just being a good new friend.

I'm thinking I'll put this on a temporary hiatus as I work through how I want arc two to go. I know the story beats, but the pacing will absolutely have to change. Not gonna spend 16k words on a single evening again! (Did you guys realize it was that long? I certainly did. XP) In the meantime, I'll keep working on Bring Me Home and rewriting the Wrong Number AU.

Bonus points to anyone who can guess my favorite line from this segment!

And sorry for not replying to comments on the post from two weeks ago. I got caught up in irl stuff and wasn't able to get around to it.

Tag List Part 1

@addie-lover-of-stories, @justwannabecat, @gin2212, @amercurio, @regonold, @overtherose, @readerzj, @sjrose1216, @echoednonny, @deeterzz, @blu-lilac, @number-one-jew, @rowanaway-fromthisbs, @vythika96, @tired-yet-awaken, @themirrorghost, @emeraldcorpral, @all-mights-asscheeks, @darkhinauniverse, @blep-23, @phandomhyperfixationblog, @larkcoe1, @thegatorsgoose, @job-ross-the-second, @britcision, @lenacraft, @bubblemixer, @androgynouslordofescapism, @purefrickingspite, @leftmiraclechaos, @lizisipancardo, @starlight-sparks, @miraculousandmore, @gildedphoenix, @sometimesthingsfallapart, @letmesayfuxk, @phoenixcatch7, @skulld3mort-1fan, @abaowo, @dhampir-princess, @idkmrpianoman, @sarina-elais, @ballzfrog-blog, @undead-essence, @spookytragedyshark, @flyingpansaurus, @akintoabitch, @marivictal, @8-29pm, @justreadingthefanfics, @happybear135, @kisatamao, @spoopyspoony, @adorablechaos, @sara0055, @screamingtofillthevoid

[classpecting-the-hoyoverse]

Veritas Ratio: The Rogue of Light

Rogue: The passive stealing class

One who steals aspect for others

Alternatively, one who shares or one who redistributes aspect with others

Light

Abstract: Knowledge, Awareness, Attention, Relevance, Fortune, Luck

Literal: Actual Light (Brightness), Vision, Eyes, the Sun, Stars

This is gonna become a series isn't it?

It is. Now let's get going on discussing everyone's favorite interstellar scholar: Dr. Veritas Ratio!!

Let's get the obvious out of the way: His aspect.

Light is more commonly known as the aspect of knowledge. But instead of talking about he’s light-bound personality wise, why don’t we shake things up a bit? We know that he's a smart and knowledgeable man, but what more can his aspect offer for us aside from that?

To fit with Ratio's Greco-Roman theming, I'll briefly discuss the World of Ideas in Plato's allegory of the Cave.

Forgive me to if I do get the allegory wrong and please feel free to correct me!

The gist of this is that ordinary people are like prisoners chained to a cave, only able to perceive reality through shadow puppets and the distorted noises that bounce off the cave walls. These prisoners were born in the cave and had been raised in the cave, not knowing anything else outside of it; ignorance. It's only when they break out of their chains do these prisoners start their path to enlightenment and they achieve it so once they see the bright sun outside of their cave; the World of Ideas.

Ratio seeks to break everyone from the chains of ignorance and guide them towards enlightenment through spreading his knowledge throughout the universe.

Ratio is the man who would forcefully break the prisoners' chains and nudge them towards the light, as much as he could anyways.

And for one specific character, he hopes it is enough.

We'll get back to him later! Next I want to talk about is Ratio and his connection to Christian Gnosticism, which likely had served as inspiration for the concept of the Light aspect in Homestuck. I will be borrowing ideas from one of optimisticDualist's essays so I highly recommend giving it a quick read before continuing onward.

According to Gnostic myth, the world was created through the desires of an aeon named Sophia, an Emanator of light. I should also note that the Greek word for wisdom is Σοφία.

Sophia longed to understand God in His entirety, but in doing so she committed treason and was thus cast out of heaven. Her desire gave birth to Yaldabaoth: a blind, violent, and ignorant god who knew nothing but himself. He created the material world that you and I perceive, shielded from the light of Sophia that birthed him. Because a blind god made the world in his image, the denizens of his earth are also blind to Sophia.

So what do banished gods have to do with the purple guy?

Well, just like Archimedes and screws, things come back around. In order to save yourself from Yaldabaoth’s world, one must be delivered a certain knowledge that is delivered by a “messenger of light” and thus gain the ability to perceive Sophia and her World of Ideas.

In other words, salvation can be sought in what Gnosticism calls a gnosis.

However, one cannot just simply be gifted a gnosis. Those who seek Sophia’s salvation must be driven to reach it, reach beyond the Demiurge’s dark and imprisoning world and into the intangible, bright world above.

Doesn’t that sound familiar?

By Gnostic definition, Ratio should be an Emanator of wisdom, helping curing others of ignorance and helping them on their way towards enlightenment. Hell, you can even say that he's a sylph with all the constant allusions to healing and helping, especially since that Ratio's a Doctor.

However, we all know that this isn't true. Within Ratio's character stories, it can be inferred that his one goal in life is to become an Emanator of the Erudition. His arduous pursuit of knowledge was likely all in hopes in attracting Nous' gaze.

Yet, despite all his efforts, Ratio was never spared a glance

Dr. Ratio is a model Emanator of wisdom by Gnostic standards, yet within his own universe his Aeon of Erudition does not acknowledge him. No matter how hard he tries, he will never reach the status of a member of the Genius society, almost as if he wasn't destined to be a part of it.

Let’s talk about his class: The rogue.

Rogues in Homestuck are the outcasts of their societies. They're loners, isolated, unable to fit in with the groups they want to identify in.

Rogue of Heart Nepeta Leijon lives alone in Alternia's wilderness far from troll society with her lusus as her only companion that is physically close to her.

She's been explicitly described as lonely, creating comics and ships of herself and her friends in order to mitigate her feelings of isolation from other trolls:

Then there's Rogue of Void Roxy Lalonde, who for her first 16 years of life was the only human within her town of carapaces, whom she provides food for. The only other human in her post-apocalyptic world is more than 1700 miles away.

Being a Void-Bound, her isolation is very much apparent, but her loneliness reaches its apex during her bad end in her Pesterquest route. Drinking herself to a stupor as the undeserving consequences of seeing her mother just once consumes her.

And then Rogue of Breath Rufioh Nitram, who was seen as a mutant for his wings and thus was avoided by his fellow trolls, which took a blow on his self-esteem.

Rogues also struggle with a surplus of their aspect and trying to cope up with that extra while it consumes them. Nepeta taking on the personas of other people through roleplaying, as well as her cave walls being covered in shipping grids. Rufioh living a literally directionless grubhood as travels with a nomadic group called the Lost Weaboos, not to mention his wings, a symbol of freedom, being the cause of why he views himself so lowly. And then there's Roxy, who feels so alone in the carapacian bastion that she fills that void with insobriety, befuddling her mind.

So what does this have to say about Dr. Ratio? All three rogues here have exhibited some type of self-worth issues and a desire to connect with others, but due to being so engulfed by their aspect, it hinders them from reaching that goal...

What if tiny Ratio exhibited such intellect at such a young age that throughout his childhood, he was told that he would be a great scholar growing up? Maybe his genius would earn him a spot within the Genius Society. He was even admitted into a university during his adolescent years.

As that is impressive as that sounds, can you imagine how isolating that can be for a child? Ratio, the only kid in class with his classmates years above him, talking about things outside of academia that he's too young to understand. Meanwhile Ratio likely doesn't interact with those his age as they couldn't provide anything to stimulate his brain. It could also be vice-versa too: Ratio trying to talk to them about topics far beyond their comprehension and they just start to distance themselves from him, unable to understand him, making an outcast out of him.

His intelligence and genius isolates him from making any genuine friendships during his formal years of life. At least, any that we know of before 2.1.

This loneliness does seem to follow him well into his adulthood as well: Becoming a celebrity comes with its own flavor of isolation: being surrounded by the limelight yet no one will truly understand you.

And let's not forget about his ambitions to become an Emanator of the Erudition, to become a member of the Genius Society, which he fell short of...

...something that he holds quite close to his chest, a betrayal of his self-perceived character. He became yet, once again, an outcast.

Another thing, I want you guys to got to Ratio's wiki real quick and see how many characters mention him.

How many people do you think were close to Ratio?

Within the team selection menu of Star Rail, Ratio has lines for when he's added to a team with Ruan Mei and Herta, yet the reverse isn't true. Both Genius scholars say nothing when added to a team with Ratio already in it, almost as if they don't acknowledge him.

There is, however, only one character who says something when added to a team with the Mundanite already in it.

Can you guess who it is?

But, as for all classes, their lives aren't meant to be miserable forever. A Rogue must find a way to overcome this loneliness; piecing through the walls of their confines made of their aspect. Instead of just keeping all their aspect for themselves like their Thief counterpart, Rogues find fulfillment through sharing their aspect, often by taking it from one source and distributing it to others. Or in some cases, exchanging something else in order to hand out.

And after all this, I dare say that Ratio joining the Genius Society would be the worst mistake he'd ever make. Stay with me, I have my reasons:

Though we never got to see much of Nepeta in action, we know that she distributes Heart through her shipping chart, arranging couples, distributing aspects of their personalities to see who would go together the best.

The amount of thought that she puts into her ships puts a Sylph of the same aspect like me to shame!

I digress.

In exchange of bringing attention to the Watterbitch that's about to destroy their game, Roxy was able to obscure the progression of her session from prying eyes, covering it in a blanket of blankness in order to keep Batterwitch from knowing what they're up to.

And then for Rufioh, his Alternian counterpart The Summoner lead a rebellion against the Condecse, using his wings to guide his fellow trolls towards freedom.

And even after his defeat, his tale lives on as Pupa Pan. While the tale of his rebellious predecessor the Signless is silenced and therefore lost to obscurity, the Summoner's story lives on, allowing the idea of freedom to flow into the mind of young trolls.

Dr. Ratio's entire character is dedicated to making education accessible for all. Though some of this does end up into his desire to cure people of idiocy, Ratio does truly believe that everyone should get a chance to attain knowledge. I'd even say that his ambition is the reason why he became a professor!

Ratio would dedicate his life towards his goal towards sharing knowledge, even if it meant forsaking Nous' attention in exchange.

His path also affirms this drive. One would expect that someone as knowledgeable as him would be following the path of Erudition, but instead Ratio follows the Hunt.

Ratio's determination to educate, his determination to spread light across the universe manifested into the path he follows. Even if he's never accepted by the Genius Society, he won't let that hinder him or dampen his drive. Ratio just simply strides forward.

The people who make up Nous' faction are described as researchers that rarely interact with each other, and even rarer are the people who are willing to share their research. Ratio would have never found fulfillment in being a member of the Genius Society, I'm almost certain that by joining it he would just be seeking out more and more knowledge, more and more light, becoming more and more isolated.

And one more thing: Rogues are fond of those who manage to get close to them. They appreciate their company and are incredibly dear to them.

For Nepeta, she has Equius.

For Roxy, she has Calliope.

Rufioh had Damara and the Summoner had the Marquise.

So who does Ratio have?

Even outside of a shipping lens, Aventurine is a very important person to Ratio. The 2.1 Penacony story quest demonstrated how much in tandem these two can be together; how much they trusted each other to pull off this huge gamble and draw attention to the death happening in the Planet of Dreams and Festivites. Luck and Knowledge, they both work in perfect harmony.

Aventurine calls him his equal during his episode in “Keeping Up with Star Rail”, claiming that Ratio’s the only one who can understand him.

Ratio and Aventurine must have something closer than just mutual respect however. Before Aventurine goes off into his grandiose self-annihilation, he checks up on him. He risks breaking their façade of disgruntled-coworkers-at-best just to make sure Aventurine can continue on.

Ratio does care for the Stoneheart. So much so that he imparts luck to quite literally the luckiest man alive in hopes that his advice will carry him out of the darkness that he’s in and back into the light. Bringing him out of the blinding Nihility and back into the World of Ideas, back into reality.

And it makes this note all the more important when Aventurine accepts Ratio’s advice, accepting his light when most would brush it off.

Ratio is a bright person, yet most cannot see past his luminosity and at the same time, he can’t shine bright enough to attract those he aspires to be. To remedy this, the Rogue of Light distributes his lights to others who needs it. He wants to cure those inflicted with ignorance and guide them towards enlightenment.

Knowledge for knowledge’s sake is not his Ratio rolls. His altruism may go against what the Genius Society believes in, but he wouldn’t change his ideals for anyone, steadfast in his determination to cure idiocy.

[neeweekeewee]

HEALER FATESPEAKER AU

An alternate universe where Fatespeaker becomes a healer and a therapist at Jade Mountain Academy. Due to her having weak mind reading abilities, she is considered to be an empath. When she arrived at the Night Kingdom, she was overwhelmed with sadness over seeing the condition of her tribemates, feeling helpless that she couldn’t do anything to help alleviate them of their injuries, diseases, and emotional misery. After Flame gets injured by Viper’s venomous tail barb, she becomes extremely distraught and full of grief over his life threatening injury. She would check on him periodically when she wasn’t helping Starflight. She became interested in healing when she was watching the healers do their work. While in the rainforest, she was was overwhelmed with fear, grief, and helplessness over Starflight’s injuries. She promised herself that she would anything she could to save those around her, so that she never feels helpless again. Since a whole other tribe is now living in the rainforest, the RainWing healers needed extra help. She was brought on as an apprentice to help out the healers with the sudden influx of patients. Due to her weak mind reading ability, she can sense emotions of the patients around her. She is a natural at healing due to her sheer passion and interest to learn and her bubbly and extroverted personality. She feels as though she has found her calling. She was proud to forge her own path and not be just a “back up Dragonet of Destiny”. There were already Dragonets of Destiny. And they were good enough. She was glad to be helping dragons and saving lives in a different way.

Flame is the first to wake up from his injury, he is still very weak from the potency of the venom. Fatespeaker comes to care for him. He is hostile and skeptical at first, refusing to let her touch him and told her to get away from him. Due to how busy the healer hut was, no one was available to help dress his wounds. He watched Fatespeaker care for other patients. He sees how sweet, bubbly, and energetic she is with them. It’s almost as if she’s able to sense their pain and negative emotions without them even saying anything or showing it. She was running in every direction, attending to every patient as quickly as she could, which was much quicker than all of the other healers. Flame’s wound was becoming more and more painful until he was writhing in his bed in agony. Fatespeaker immediately responds, not able to handle feeling his misery anymore. He continues to act extremely rude to her which finally makes her snap at him, saying: “I have never once said anything nasty or bad about you. I have always treated you kindly even when you were rude or when you would call me names. For moon’s sake can you just be kind to me for one day?” “I can tell you’re in a lot of pain, there is no other healer available right now so you’re stuck with me. Even though you are a really rude dragon, I cannot stand to see you suffer like this, just clamp your jaws shut and let me do my job.”

Surprised by her firmness in her tone and the tears in her eyes, he listens to her. He started feeling guilty for treating her with disrespect for so long, realizing that she was never once rude to him or even muttered a negative comment about him.

After coming to this realization, he started being more kind to her; allowing her to dress his wound and check up on him. The healer hut was often boring, he started to miss his mother quite a ton. When Fatespeaker would sense his deep loneliness, she would often stop by to keep him company. Even when she was super busy, if she sensed that Flame was upset in any way, she would come to help cheer him up. This helped build a close bond between them both. They started making inside jokes, and having long conversations when Fatespeaker had a break. Flame started missing her badly when she wasn’t around, especially at night. He would even get jealous when other patients got more attention than he did, especially when it came to Starflight, who was still unconscious at the time. Fatespeaker wasn’t oblivious to this, since she could sense his jealousy. She felt giddy inside for some reason that someone wanted her attention so badly. No dragon has ever had feelings for her before. It also warmed her heart that she finally built a bond with one of the members of her group and that her care had been helping heal their wound.

The moment Flame knew he loved Fatespeaker was when his mother came to visit him during his stay at the healer’s hut. She thanked Fatespeaker relentlessly for nursing him back to health. The two hit it off very well, talking for hours it seemed.

The moment Fatespeaker knew she loved Flame was when he became interested in her field of work after she nursed him back to health. He became her assistant healer. He also tried his best to work on his temper because he knows she doesn’t like it.

When Starflight woke up, he was bewildered to find out that Flame was working beside Fatespeaker to help heal him.

After the end of the war, Flame and Fatespeaker were the healers and therapists for the students. Occasionally, they travel to other tribes to help out. Flame is also a part time student to learn better skills on tolerance of other tribes.