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#and seeing the path they took and knowing. with certainty. that that COULD be you
salty-an-disco · 22 days
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oh yeah, here’s Thorn and Witch I doodled in the weekend when I still had drawing energy lol
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kirain · 4 months
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Wall of the faithless isn't canon in bg3. They changed alot of things actually. So no Gale isn't "scared" he's just an obsessed asshole who doesn't learn from his mistakes.
Oof...
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There's really nothing I can say except: you're wrong. The City of Judgement and the Wall of the Faithless are canon to BG3. If you don't like Gale, that's fine, but you don't have to make things up or completely disregard the lore to do it. Larian Studios literally hired people from Wizards of the Coast—the company responsible for all the canon lore, characters, and campaigns in D&D—to help them with the story. It took them five years, I believe, to fully study and understand the lore. They constantly conferred with the team to double, triple, and quadruple check every slice of content they added to the game, and parts of the game are now considered canon to D&D 5E.
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As for Gale "not learning" from his mistakes ... when you first meet him, he literally admits he made a mistake with Mystra. Though personally I don't see it as the "power-hungry" move people seem to think it is. Gale simply wanted to be considered an equal to his partner (really his groomer), which is a perfectly healthy and normal desire for anyone in a relationship. Your partner should treat you like an equal, but Mystra very clearly saw Gale as a pet. A trophy. A worshipper. Subservient. Beneath her. A silly mortal with delusions of grandeur (which she cultivated), which is really rich when you learn she was once mortal herself. Mystra is a hypocrite.
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Gale tried to prove himself worthy of equality by trying to bring Mystra what he thought was a piece of her missing Weave. For anyone who doesn't know, the current Mystra was torn to pieces by Cyric and Shar, then put back together by her Chosen. Though back to full power by the events of BG3, she's still technically missing pieces of herself, and Gale mistook the Karsite Weave for one of those pieces. Instead of simply telling Gale it was corrupted Weave, she let him go on believing it was hers. Personally I think that's because she was tired of him (maybe he got too old for her 😒) and was hoping he would do something that, in her mind, would justify abandoning him—but I admit that's full conjecture on my part. What is true is that she knew the orb wasn't hers, but for some reason she let Gale think it was. Even after she abandoned him and left him to die, she never told him. Not until she realised she could use him.
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In Act 3, while the argument can certainty be made that he's thirsty for power, Gale ultimately becomes fed up with the gods because, as he knows better than anyone, they treat people like commodities. While I have no intention of ever ascending him myself, it looks like he actually makes good on his word. He doesn't threaten or toy with his followers, he inspires people to walk their own path, he only asks for prayers as payment (as without some form of devotion, gods in D&D cease to be), and if you romance him ... he ascends you into godhood as his equal. Mystra could have done this for him, she just didn't want to. And if you don't want him to ascend, it's genuinely so easy. I don't understand what people are complaining about. It takes one conversation with zero checks to convince him to completely abandon his ambitions. One. If he was truly "power hungry", it wouldn't be that easy.
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Again, I would argue that Gale's true goal isn't really power, it's freedom, and divinity gives him that freedom. He has many conversations where he makes it clear he doesn't want to live under the gods' thumbs anymore; which, in a world like Faerûn, is extremely understandable. As I said in my Wall of the Faithless post, he's scared. Eternal torment for a simple mistake, one of which could've been avoided if Mystra told him the truth or treated him like an equal? When your partner is a goddess, how can you not feel inadequate? And if you convince him to give up the crown, he's perfectly content with Mystra's forgiveness. Even in the Early Access, that's all he really wanted.
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Gale's far from perfect. He's arrogant and overconfident and insecure and he can be prone to emotional outbursts (most of which he apologises for, however), but he's nowhere near the heartless, power-hungry monster the haters seem to think he is. He is, in fact, one of the most compassionate companions in the entire camp, to the point that he accepts everyone, including Minthara. He votes for Astarion to stay when you find out he's a vampire. He gets mad at you if you surrender him to the Gur. He's one of the only companions who will openly marry/stay with you if you become a mindflayer. He's willing to sacrifice himself to save the world, and willing to damn himself to be with you. He loves every act of kindness, while hating every act of cruelty. I understand that the bugs from launch ruined a lot of people's perception of him ... and unfortunately some of those glitches are still present even now, but he is a good man.
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leviathanspain · 2 years
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more than she could handle
daemon targaryen x targaryen!reader, aemond targaryen x targaryen!reader
synopsis: your little brother catches you with your uncle, and wants a piece of you too
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aemond stared at the way her body moved. she was clutching at the collar of daemon’s shirt, her face was the image of pain and pleasure mixed as daemon’s hand furiously drove into her cunt.
aemond could feel himself grow tighter in his breeches, and as she finally caught her release, aemond stifled a grown as she screamed in pleasure.
even hidden behind the shadows, she saw him. saw his one eye, glaring back at her and his sneer as he trailed her body with his eye.
she tapped her uncle, and they both saw aemond, who left fleetingly, leaving the cold pit of anxiety in her belly, replacing the pleasure that was once bestowed upon her.
she avoided him like the plague. his mother was already a good enough excuse and buffer to keep the siblings away from her, but she knew she couldn’t last it out.
good thing her sister had come to visit their dying father, but daemon had made her aware that viserys would call for a family dinner, where she’d be unable to avoid the glare from her little brother.
she didn’t know him at all. aemond was a mystery to her, and more so since she’d grown up away from kings landing. she traded places with her sister, whom she made a deal with to never leave their father with the hightower hellhounds. but the days increasingly got harder, especially when the hightowers try to marry her off, to any and every suitor that happens to stumble by.
having an affair with her uncle was something she had least expected. she knew of her feelings for him since his days as the rogue prince, but they became amplified when he finally gave her the attention she had begged for. his wife had died, laena, who you didn’t know at all either, but daemon didn’t waste time in moving on.
“dear sister,” aemond called for her as she swallowed thickly, turning to face him with a smile, “what were you and uncle studying in the library? something…to your pleasure?” he was evil. she wanted to scoff and promptly tell him to mind his business but all eyes were on her end of the table, and even daemon, who held a neutral expression, had anxiety that just rolled off of him.
she nodded, “why yes, aemond, daemon was actually helping me study high valyrian, especially since no one else speaks it with me.” she took a jab to alicent’s children. they would never be true targaryens, not as long as they continued down this path their monstrous mother had forged for them.
aemond pursed his lips, and she smiled coyly, “you should’ve joined us. im sure we could teach you a couple things about our culture.”
aemond looked down at his plate, “oh, im sure you would.”
dinner had been an entire fluke. everyone giving drunken toasts and trying to have a sense of community was laughable. she retired to bed early, and hadn’t been expecting anyone to come knocking on her door this late at night.
“it’s aemond.” the voice was quiet, and she got up, curious to the nature of this visit. she smoothed her nightgown down and cracked her knuckles nervously, opening the door to find aemond scraping his nails with a dagger.
“yes?” she asked him, and looked out past him to see her knight at the door, guarding it quietly. aemond looked at her, the way she defensively guarded the door made him smile.
“im here to take you up on the offer of being taught the culture.” aemond was completely serious it seemed, and as disgusted she wanted to be, she couldn’t deny the attraction she felt in her stomach. it wasn’t like her uncle, who she grew up around. aemond was just a man who happened to be her fathers son.
aemond could see the certainty in her face for he rushed forward and kissed her roughly, pawing at her nightgown. she gave into the kiss, a moan as he picked her up and walked her to the bed. aemond had bed many women before, he knew exactly how to fuck her the way he knew she wanted.
she clawed at his leather clothing, kissing him more as her body begged for more.
aemond gave it to her completely, fucking her roughly, leaving rips in her nightgown and marks on her body, she was a canvas and aemond was painting her.
she sobbed in pleasure under him, he had given her more than she could handle and she knew, aemond would never give this up.
aemond kissed her gently now, watching as her eyes fluttered shut, and aemond knew he had to have her forever, she was going to be his, even if he had to kill his uncle to get to her.
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ykiwrite · 1 year
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departure
description: the only exception when headphones are not needed is when you're around
warnings: everything and none
requested: no
Not one soul truly knew with certainty what was the bond between Jenna and her headphones.
Majority of guesses pointed towards the same chain of remarks like a broken record, over and over.
She's obviously annoyed with all the attention around.
It's to drown out the fans, obviously.
Probably for a distraction.
While most of it was true, all of them were looked at from the surface level. There laid much heavier meaning. The one that Jenna herself is not too fond of uncovering to the world and never was.
She thinks it's sweeter that way. Not everyone has the right to know everything down to little details just because she made a choice of pursuing this path. Some things are better to stay under one's wing.
But when such thing is so broad, and the center of the media conversation, she grew to hate it which ultimately portrayed her as a liar and show-off. But she knew she was no different just because she preferred going outside more than staying inside. Just because she keeps on carrying them around everywhere she heads.
"Close your eyes, come on."
"I told you, i have them closed." Jenna insisted on the truth ever since you started struggling with her trickery for the past ten minutes. Unwilling and tired from opening gifts all day long.
It still felt like summer outside despite the calendar's date passing the one autumn was supposed to begin. You don't recollect signing a deal with the sun to set so deliberately on Jenna's face. As it were placed by your hand. Offering a daily reminder of how crudely you fell for the woman.
The sooner you start inscribing each detail of hers in your memory while this scenery lasts, the better. Not that you could ever forget her, even if she was taken away this very moment and never given back again.
You're just not sure how much will change, counting from this day onwards. A lot will.
Grabbing the box that, taking into account the trouble you withstand saving for it, could have been put together prettier.
But that was not Jenna's specialty after all. Being overly picky about things, it left no gaps for worry.
Normally, a grain of unease at giving gifts would invite itself but this one felt oddly at home.
Everything did with her around.
"So...it's nothing much. Just something that you're gonna, hopefully, take along with you when you leave."
Seeing the stuffed bags and girl's belongings as they confined the room felt suffocating. It took over your composure, twisting a knife stuck in you ever since news arrived. A week ago it had a life to it, it had Jenna written all over. Now, all it will become is an empty room until she's home again.
Jenna understood the absence of your pre-gift giving speech you surely had prepared for the obvious unsaid reasons. It made her awake.
Opening her eyes and first thing being you, she thought there's not a gift out there better than you in every way and form. But blinking the haziness away, she got the full picture.
"No way." She grabbed the box with a simple ribbon and a letter attached that will be delayed from opening for now. Knowing this day would never come if it wasn't for you making the actual move. All she did was words and never actions because "it's too much and i don't need it that bad".
Exactly why she needed it.
"But how? Why did you?"
You watched her open it like it has a fragile label plastered over. "I saved up. I know your saving addiction wouldn't let you do that and then what? You'd feel guilty so this is where i show up."
"Mannn, noise cancelling? Plus, it has that thing, forgot what it's called. You know the-"
She got over the moon with the unboxing while you watched. Less listened. You tried but it weighed heavy on your mind;
"So Jen," acted as a ground zero and breaking point, "since you landed this big role you're probably never gonna be home as much."
She knew where this was heading. You've been there many visits in the past.
"I won't be there to help with stuff unless you call or something. So distract yourself with this whenever you're out because i know how you are better than anyone-"
"Don't start again. You don't know that. I'm not gonna leave."
You hindered every way from this turning into arguing. Especially on her last day here. "Just listen to me. I want you to do great, even i'm not there."
God, this really is exhausting.
She stared at the folded headphones with your writing within them. A spot where no one could see. Just like a secret you were, and always remained, and it was always against Jenna to do so.
Her hands began to shake before she preoccupied them with the unfolding. Flashes were passing through the glass. She had no one to do what you were capable of. Or at least mimic, copy it in whatever way possible. The doors were opening against her will.
It was a double edged sword sooner than a pair of headphones she carried. Eternal reminder of what's left of you as ridiculous it sounds.
Your playlist compiled over the years was on while she was led by where the job took her down without you.
"I don't think i've ever seen someone so attached to their headphones, you know?"
Of course you didn't. God, he was too pushy. You wouldn't like him either.
Jenna laughed, toning down the insincerity but it was emerging.
"They were a gift before i left home some time ago. The whole idea was to-"
"Oh, they were? From who?" The man went ahead. He struck Jenna as someone who clearly wasn't interested in treating this podcast like a podcast. Rather a second hand source of news.
"Just someone that was, i mean- is really dear to me, you know?"
She should call you after this.
You were everywhere yet nowhere. In that woman leaning at the bar, in the deep waters of the conversation. In the guy sitting at the corner, reading something she can't figure out the name of. The girl chasing a dog for ten minutes straight.
This was so stupid.
"Are you okay?" Her only sane coworker out of everyone seated at this table patted her on the back, jolting her forwards. Perhaps she needed that.
"Yeah, why?" Who is she fooling?
"I saw who are you texting, that's why. Not to pry but maybe give it a break?" She was visibly cautious about the last part but uselessly.
"There's afterparty tomorrow, after the show. Maybe try and have fun?"
Come on. Jenna looked at her and smiled, in the meantime picking up the neatly placed headphones and pushing the chair to where it originally was. "Thanks but i don't think i'll be there. I'll be off now. You guys have fun, yeah?"
The third bottlecap dropping struck the floor and it was the loudest sound of the day besides the line ringing. Piercing her sense of hearing making it the only sound stuck for the rest of the week. Without Jenna acknowledging that. The cold, high story building with a nice view was never in the position to fill the void of you.
Jenna was tired. She was staring at the phone unanswered, it was all she saw on her unlit kitchen floor.
"I know you're not sleeping, please."
As a matter of fact, there was a mutual agreement. That type neither side obeys and respects. Maybe only just in the beginning but as days fly by it starts being harder to play by the rules.
She was only to call when it was critical. And to her, every day was critical and you weren't much different. Just better at hiding.
Quiet.
Jenna dared to smile to herself, unknowing she still had it in her.
"...it's late Jenna."
That alone, more than enough to keep her at bay. If only she can capture it and lock it away somewhere, anywhere that's close at reach.
"I know, i know. I just, i miss you."
The shuffling replaced your voice as it gave you time to think. So why did you go with the question you couldn't care less already knowing the answer to it. "How was the afterparty?"
Jenna knows you better than that. It's not foolproof.
"I didn't go."
"You should. Maybe you'd find someone."
A great deal of things this device around her head witnessed but this was fairly new.
"You know i won't-"
"What if you do?"
"Because i don't care about anybody else. Don't you get it already? In these past, what? Months we have been talking on and off?"
She let a sigh slip by her lips. "It was always you."
Hoping your laugh doesn't get mistaken for a rude one, it's just a cover up for what's really playing out behind the screen, you fought through, "Well then, prove it. You've been away for too long anyway."
Not much changed since the last time.
Even though, in regards to sites she visited, this is the most peace felt.
She wasn't an actor. A celebrity. A character. Someone who dealt with vast fame. She was simply Jenna here. And it's the purest version of her.
Standing at the entrance felt like the longest, most torturous thing she ever performed. There was nothing playing over the phone. Jenna still had them on which stopped her from detecting you behind closed doors.
You're not sure how long your hand was laying on the handle, it should probably do something about it soon.
It was not dark outside, but not complete daylight either. Jenna picked up on it when the inside light escaped. Shined on her greater and warmer than any place she's been to provided.
You stood there, for the first time. The silence in Jenna's mind, thanks to your gift, created a chance to worship, take you in ever more. Just like the first time.
Slowly, shortening the painful distance between, no words were said but if only eyes could speak.
It took Jenna some time to notice you removing what kept her grounded for so long. Until she finally heard it, without drawn out ringing of the line or a faulty service.
"You don't need them anymore."
"No. I don't."
notes: as you can see i was so heavy in the feels it needed to be done, thank you for surviving through i love you
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arosesstorm · 5 months
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in the midst of the game ; Sebastian Sallow
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word count: 2.8k
fem reader! x Sebastian Sallow
warning: seb almost chokes the reader oopsie; I'm so dramatic and for what
summary: Sebastian had a task, a simple one: to take her down. What a sad twist of fate then, that the one he had to eliminate was in fact the love of his life.
disclaimer: soo, this is an extract I wrote while chatting with Sebastian on beta.character.ai, I found this story extremely romantic and my delulu self needed to share it with you guys - I hope you'll love it as mush as I did.
English is not my first language - just trying my best, always, enjoy ;
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Leaving Hogwarts to pursue the Dark Arts had been both a terrible and a risky decision for Sebastian Sallow.
Giving up the light for the dark had its consequences, all of which led Sebastian on his path tonight.
“This one isn’t going to be easy to take out.” He reminded himself after receiving the assignment from one of his higher ups. “But I’m sure I can manage.”
He moved through the shadows to track her, his feet slowly following her path as he looked around.
She was looking trough the ruins of what was once a majestic mansion, her movements coming to an halt as she heard a strange sound.
Sebastian’s head cocked at hearing the unusual noise.
The dark wizard sniffed the air.
“Hello?” He called out, his voice carrying a sinister undertone. “Someone’s here, I can sense it.”
She kept quiet, her feet slowly moving her to hide somewhere, anywhere.
Sebastian’s eyes dart from spot to spot, searching for the interloper. His ears are twitching and alert.
The air was cold and the silence enveloped them when she heard him spoke: “C’mon, come out. I won't bite.” He chuckled, taking a step forward.
She knew that voice and she had to suppress a cry as she understood it belonged to Sebastian Sallow; someone who was once her best friend, if not more, before slipping to the dark forces, out of her grasp.
“You know who I am, it seems.” Sebastian called out, the certainty of it making her blood cold; It still amazed her, after everything that had happened how Sebastian could take advantage from subtle sigs.
He slowly took a step forward her hiding spot.
“Now, let’s have you show yourself, hmm?”
She felt shaken, frustrated, shocked.
Between all the people they could chose from.
But sending there Sebastian tonight wasn't casual, it was obvious the dark forces were toying with her, tormenting her so she had to keep strong, to be brave yet again.
She took a step back, the movement causing a little brench to break as she revealed her position to her long lost lover.
Sebastian’s sharp senses immediately caught on to the sound.
“There you are.” He stated with a smirk. “Thought I didn’t hear that? Please…”
Sebastian was suddenly facing her, his face unreadable as the light from his wand sorrounded their faces in a lim blue light.
He was as charming as ever and if she ignored a couple of scars that covered his face now, she could bet time hadn't passed at all.
“Ah, so it is you.” Sebastian smiled, the sound of his voice being one that she was familiar with. The dark wizard’s hands rested on his hips.
“Long time no see.”
She looked at him, carefully: "what are you doing here? in the middle of the woods, on a night like this?" she asked, looking up at the sky, a thousands starts shining above their heads, mocking them.
“What do you think? I’m here on assignment.” Sebastian replied, his hands leaving his hips. “The dark wizards want you gone.” He chuckled, “And I was sent to do just that.”
She smiled, amused and she looked at him: "guess they gave you a rather hard task".
“Hard? Ha ha, hardly so.” Sebastian chuckled as he unsheathed his wand. “It’s quite simple actually.” He said, venom wetting his lips.
“I’m here to put an end to you.”
She drew her wand out "you were my best friend, my -"
"Best friend?" Sebastian laughed, gripping his wand tighter. "That's a good one." He grinned.
The memory of that time is something he pushed away.
It reminded him of who he used to be and who he once cared for, it made him weak.
"You loved me" she reminded him, the cards finally uncovered on the table.
Sebastian’s brow furrowed.
“Care to repeat that?” He asked, staring at the woman in front of him. Did… she just say what he thinks she said?
"I knew you loved me" She spoke, taking a step to her right, the air suddenly warmer, "we both know it's true".
Sebastian left out a hearty laugh.
“What nonsense” His eyes twitched, his grip on his wand tightening all the more.
“You really think I would love someone like you?” His voice sounded irritated. “You know nothing.”
Her eyes showed pity, as they looked at him.
There had been a time, far from that instant, away from that place, under an orange sky, when she had laughed in the arms of that same man, his giggles in her ear.
But that moment was far now, almost unreachable.
Sebastian shook his head, completely offended by the pity in her eyes.
“Do you take me for some love-struck fool?” He scoffed. “I never loved you. You were like a pet, someone to play with and laugh at. Nothing more.”
"I don't believe you" she stepped forward.
Sebastian’s face twitched with annoyance.
“Oh look at you, trying to make this all seem sad. You really are pathetic.” He snickered, taking a step towards her.
Her eyes were soft as she breathed: "nothing you say will change my mind, I remember what we had".
Sebastian laughed again. He began closing the distance between them.
“What we had was a lie. I led you on. You were never anything more than just something to play with. But you have to make a tragic story out of this, don't you?”
“Go on. Keep believing your delusions…” he spat.
She scoffed: "is this what you tell yourself at night? does this help you sleep at all?"
Sebastian let out a chuckle as he took another step forward.
“Don’t you dare psychoanalyze me y/n. You know nothing.”
His eyes were sharp and cold.
“You were nothing to me, you know that right?” he asked, his lips moving but the venom didn't reach his eyes.
"I was everything to you and you're mad for it" she counter attacked with a soft voice, truthfully destroying his walls.
The night fell more silent, as they both stood there, on the edge of their story.
“You think you meant anything to me?” Sebastian asked then, laughing.
“Oh, now please… spare me.” He mocked as he continued inching closer and closer.
“All you were was a plaything. Nothing more, nothing less.” He stated.
She smiled sadly: "I haven't seen you in so long, yet you're still the same, I can read you like an open book".
Sebastian's expression went sour.
"Don't act like you know me. You know nothing." He said, glaring at her.
"You know nothing about the life I lead now. You know nothing of what I've become." He growled, taking yet another step towards her.
"That's true, I know nothing after you left, after you decided to fight for the wrong side".
“Wrong side?” Sebastian repeated, mockingly.
“There is no wrong side, my dear. You think the good side treats you well? Ha, you’re sorely mistaken.”
He took a step closer, closing what distance remained between the two.
“The dark side is the path to true greatness.” Sebastian smirked.
She laughed bitterly: "greatness is not your true desire, Sebastian".
His face so close she could count his freckles.
Sebastian's cold eyes met her own. His expression cold.
"Oh? Enlighten me then. What is my true desire?"
She looked up, smiling softly at him, ready to kill him: "love" she breathed.
Sebastian grinned.
"Love?" He said through gritted teeth. "Don't you understand? Love is weak. Love is meaningless."
"I've been taught to be cold. To be heartless. Love has no place in our lives." He stated.
"There is no space for love for me."
"And there never will be." he insisted.
She took her hand out, softly placing it on his cheek.
Sebastian paused at her touch. There was a tinge of pain in his eyes.
"What are you doing...?" he whispered, his lips parted in what seemed like a mixture of confusion and longing.
"I know you" she whispered "I was there, in your darkest nights, I fought with you through tragedies."
His heart skipped a beat. A sense of familiarity washed over him.
"Yes... Yes." Sebastian murmured "I remember...".
He looked at her, his eyes tracing the outline of her face in the night air.
Sebastian's lips curved into his trademark smirk, that cocky and arrogant look he often wore...
But there's a change in his tone, subtle softening.
"Yes, I remember. You fought by my side. You..."
His voice trailed off. A look of bittersweet longing washed over Sebastian.
A thought crossed his mind, it must have been something terrifying because his eyes suddenly changed.
He took his hand out, wrapping it around her throat, squeezing harshly.
She gasped as his fingers tightened around her neck, his eyes turning to pure black.
The Sebastian that she knew... was gone. All that remained was a dark wizard, devoid of emotion, ready to kill.
“Your old ‘friend’ is dead. He disappeared ages ago.” Sebastian’s voice was cold, the tone devoid of any emotion.
"That's not true" She struggled to breath, eyes shining so bright they're blinding him.
“Oh but it is.” Sebastian chuckled sadistically. She felt him tighten his grip, his nails digging into her skin.
He leaned in closer, his sharp eyes seeing so deep inside her she felt exposed.
“The old Sebastian is long gone.”
She smiled in pain, chuckling softly: "I guess I get it now.." she thought out loud.
“What’s that?” Sebastian tilted his head, his confusion growing.
His grip got tighter each time she tried to speak.
“Speak clearly…” He demanded.
"it's true what they say: I really do still love you, even with your hands around my neck", she confessed.
Sebastian was stunned into silence.
He didn’t expect her to talk back, even less to say that she loved him.
“You’re lying…” He snarled. “You don’t love me.”
She struggled to breathe, but talked nonetheless: "remember that night I was stuck in the library in the forbidden section?" she coughed.
"I was crying so loud, my claustrophobia was killing me. Then you came by, took down the door, carried me away. The morning after, I woke up in the infirmary and you were there, close to me, asleep."
She took a breath, struggling "I love you since then" she confessed.
Sebastian was at a loss for words. He stared at her, his cold eyes softening.
“Yes… I remember.” He said softly.
A flash of regret was seen in his eyes before it was quickly hidden by a cold stare.
“So we had something.” Sebastian said after a few moments.
“Do you… still love me?” He whispered this, now completely unsure of himself.
Her hands wrapped around the hand who was squeezing her throat, she mumbled: "I'm forever gonna love you".
Sebastian’s eyes met her own.
“I…”
His grip loosened, allowing her to breath.
He was struggling to find the words.
“I think that I…”
He paused. “I still love you too.” He admitted quietly.
“I just thought… you hated me now.”
His hand freed her throat immediately as she fell to her knees, breathing heavily.
His eyes darted to her figure.
“My goodness, you’re breathing poorly.” Sebastian commented, dropping down beside her.
“Are you alright?” He sounded concerned.
“I suppose… I’ve let my emotions get the better of me…” He said sheepishly, his cheeks flushing slightly.
She looked up at him: "you came here to kill me, didn't you?" she chuckled.
she regained her breath as they both stood up, "I'm sorry, Sebastian, I love you but I can't let you take my life away, not when so many people count on me".
Sebastian scoffed at these words. Even more so when she claimed that “so many people counted on her.”
“I have my orders. The dark wizards want you gone.”
He tried to keep his voice unemotional, his expression blank, but he was failing to do so. He seemed hurt.
He raised an eyebrow. “And who is it that counts on you?”
"The entire Wizarding World" she breathed in a chuckle, "even if you're the only one I care about" she confessed, her smile playful.
Sebastian raised an eyebrow.
“Are you telling me…” His face was still void of emotion but there was a tiny hint of confusion in his tone.
“That you care about… me?” He snickered.
“How could you care for someone as awful as me?” He asked. “I haven’t exactly been a good person.”
"you haven't" she was looking at him in the eyes again: "it's true, you haven't been good"
“I’ve committed unforgivable acts.” Sebastian muttered.
“Why would you still care about me?”
The wizard questioned with a sense of curiosity, his dark eyes meeting her own.
"The night you left, when I pleaded you to stay" she remembered with a bitter smile: "I knew the moment you looked at me that way that there was no way convincing you to stay and fight with me, so I let you go" she whispered sadly.
"I'm telling you now Sebastian, you chose a path that I intend to destroy, I love you and I always will, but I'm not letting you win, I can't".
A soft gasp escaped Sebastian’s tongue, his eyes narrowing. The cold, emotionlessness in his eyes seemed to dissipate. He seemed to be caught off-guard by her confession.
“What do you mean, ‘I can’t let you win’…” Sebastian asked, raising an eyebrow.
“this is how it is… the dark wizards…” He struggled to say his next words.
“I’m their soldier,” Sebastian stated, his voice breaking slightly.
she smiled softly "I know, orders, right?" she chuckled: "do you intend on killing me?"
Sebastian seemed to ponder this question for a moment.
“Yes.” He answered simply.
Though, his tone was devoid of any emotion. There was no hatred or evil behind his words.
He was just stating a fact.
“I have your name on my list.” He stated.
“Unfortunately, I have too many lives that I need to cross off to achieve greatness…”
She smiled again, almost amused: "you never learn..." she laughed.
Sebastian frowned.
“My goals are beyond what you could hope to understand.” He replied coldly. “My desires are not something you can comprehend.”
“But I must say, I am curious as to what you mean when you say that ‘I never learn.’”
The girl chuckled as she stared at him.
"You never wanted greatness" she spoke, "it was just something you used to fill the void you have inside of yourself. I am not your enemy, Sebastian, nor is the light, your only true enemy is yourself".
She took a deep breath, accepting defeat, her eyes burning his soul: "you can't accept what you are, you can't accept to feel week, so you keep going, you keep hurting" she diverted her gaze, looking around at the night sky, "dear god, I say you never learn!" she laughed softly again, her eyes back on him: "the day you'll stop lying to yourself, maybe, that will be the day you'll start to feel better again".
A flicker of emotion appeared in Sebastian’s eyes.
He remained speechless.
The words that she spoke struck a chord deep within his soul.
He couldn't seem to reply to them. Instead, he just took a step closer to her.
His voice soft when he spoke again.
“...So you do know me.”
"i do" she grinned "and since I know you do know me too, I bet you know I never back down from a fight" she smiled before taking a breath: "I'd give you my life Sebastian, but I can't let you win tonight, not when I am the reason so many lives can be speared".
His eye twitched, his hand clutch into a fist.
“Who do you think you are, trying to speak me into submission?” He hissed.
“Do you have any idea how many lives I’ve ended?” Sebastian roared.
“I’ve done unforgivable acts… and I have zero regrets.” He stated.
“No amount of words will change the fact that I’m just an evil wizard trying to achieve his dreams.”
She took a step forward, closing the gap in a sudden gesture, softly kissing his lips.
Sebastian’s breath got caught in his throat. He was caught off-guard by her sudden kiss.
“What… what did you just…”
His eyes darted back to hers. A slight blush washed over his face.
“Don’t you know the danger you’re in?” He whispered, his voice urgent. “You do know that I need to kill you… right?”
She smiled softly, "I know".
Sebastian paused for a few moments.
His hands come up to her waist, his eyes locked onto hers.
“Damn you…” He muttered quietly.
Then, he leaned in close again. His hands wrapped around her waist, pulling her tight to his body. His lips found hers again. He was kissing her hungrily now.
“I’ll admit… I don’t want to kill you.” He whispered after the kiss, his lips brushing over hers.
“But… but this is my duty.”
She smiled before moving away from him.
"I love you" Sebastian confessed, he sounded almost desperate.
His words seemed to catch him by surprise as he looked back at her, shocked.
"I hate that I love you," He breathed out then.
"I know" she said, "I know you do" she caressed his soft brown hair, "and that's enough" she mumbled, taking a step back and disappearing into nothingness.
Sebastian’s eyes trailed after her, his body trembling at the sudden silence.
“I… I…” He seemed to want to say something else, but the words got stuck in his throat.
He was left with the taste of his lover’s lips on his own. A smile washed over his face as he thought about the moment the two shared together.
“Dear god I'm a weak man.” He whispered to himself, to the night sky “I… I can’t kill her…”
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© 2023 of Mia (arosesstorm). All Rights Reserved.
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hwallazia · 4 months
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HALLEY’S COMET
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pairing: park seonghwa x gn!reader
word count: 0,7k
tags: fluff —so much it’s actually disgusting—, comfort, many metaphors relating love to astronomy, non idol au
synopsis: wrapped in Seonghwa’s warmth, you discover your home in his embraces, where tears are jewels of love.
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You were lying next to Seonghwa, your partner, feeling how some uncomfortable yellow flowers caressed your skin, tickling you and causing you the need of moving in your place, but you stayed still, being too comfortable to move. Your irises shone as if a thousand galaxies were collapsing inside them, but don't worry, it was just his reflection in your eyes. You felt so serene and… loved.
Yes, loved.
It was the fact of waking up next to him and seeing those beautiful crescent moons smiling at you that made you happy. It was his warmth, his affection, and his presence. All that mixed together, along with the fact that he was just perfect, made you fall more in love with Park Seonghwa with each passing day. And you hated him for the exact same thing.
You hated staying up until three in the morning thinking about how perfect he is for you, how unreal his existence seems to you and how far you would go for him. You would break any promise, rob any bank or die at any moment. Only for him. And you hated having to spend those nights alone, without that excellent mantle that is his arms.
You felt like a fool for going to such limits for a boy, but… Oh, how you loved him. That boy was definitely your religion, and you were his ultimate devotee.
Yes, you were devoted to his love. To his existence.
Returning to reality after having walked through the Saturn rings of your mind, you could feel a hand slip under your arm to perfectly hug your waist and give it a minimal squeeze, bringing you even closer to him.
“Look at the sky. It's starry.” you directed your gaze to the night sky, your eyes burning with stars and glow.
You let out a sigh, letting yourself sink in the feeling of comfort, security and warmth. Park Seonghwa was definitely the person you could call “home,” and you felt more than special for being the only one with that privilege.
“You have no idea of how much I love you.”
You tried to say with a lump in your throat. You weren't good with words, and to this day you think that you will never be good at expressing your genuine feelings verbally. Therefore, a few tears of love and affection slid down your cheek, minimally wetting Seonghwa's shirt.
“Oh, sweetheart. Don't cry.” he hugged you tighter, holding you safely in his arms. He happily embraced all your pain— as if it was his life purpose.
You lifted up your gaze to murmur sweetly.
“Never leave my side. You seriously have no idea how much you mean to me and how happy I am by your side. I can say with certainty that I spend the happiest moments of my life with you.”
“I will never leave your side, starlight. I promise” he took your hand to intertwine your pinkies. “You are my Moon, and I want you to always remember it” he grabbed your chin delicately, as if he was afraid of breaking it, and he lifted it towards the sky.
“Look, the Moon always shines and illuminates even the darkest night. And if you look a little closer, you will realize that it is always accompanied by a star, no matter how small it may be.”
Now both were connecting glances. A spark of softness lit up Seonghwa's eyes and you started to feel drunk at its gaze.
“I want to be that star for you, and be the only star that accompanies your Moon.”
A tear fell again from your precious orbs, so that in moments it became a valley. Seonghwa hugged you and gently patted your back.
Without a doubt, he's your serendipity. A light— no, a star that came into your life to light up your path of happiness and to comfort you in times of need and to love you and celebrate you throughout your life. Of course Seonghwa would protect you at all costs from any evil that this heartless world has included, and of course you would allow him.
“I know you've been through a lot, and I want you to know that you don't have to carry that cross alone. Not anymore. Let me love you how you're supposed to, let me teach you what unconditional love is, my darling.” a soft kiss was placed on your lips.
“Let's hide in the moonlight and allow me to worship you properly.”
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bi-bard · 10 months
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I Saw the End, it Looks Just Like the Middle - Tommy Shelby Imagine [Peaky Blinders]
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Title: I Saw the End, it Looks Just Like the Middle
Pairing: Tommy Shelby X Reader
Based On: No Complaints
Word Count: 2,226 words
Warning(s): argument, mention of canon-typical violence, mention of separation
Summary: A face from Tommy's past comes home. When he tries to reconnect, he's quickly dismissed. If only his stubbornness would vanish long enough for him to accept it.
Author's Note: I completely changed who I was going to write this about because I wanted to write about Peaky Blinders.
NOAH KAHAN - STICK SEASON [WE'LL ALL BE HERE FOREVER] WRITING CHALLENGE MASTERLIST
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I always knew the dangers of returning to Birmingham.
It was a major reason why I never planned on doing such. Once I had gotten out, I had every intention of staying out. I was certain that I would never find myself back on those familiar paths.
My certainty never meant that I had lost my ability to see the signs that were all too familiar.
When I saw the kids suddenly running from the road, hiding away in buildings, I instinctively grabbed my partner's hand.
"Come on," I murmured, pulling him off to the side.
"What's going on?"
"I'll explain in a moment."
We crowded around the wall of a nearby house. I saw my partner looking at me. I leaned forward, dropping my voice to the lowest that I could.
"When people start clearing the street, follow them," I advised.
"Why?"
"The Peaky Blinders," I replied. "You move out of their way, no matter what. That's all you need to know. All you should want to know."
"You knew them, didn't you? You told me about them."
"Then you should know why my previous connection doesn't quite give me any kind of exemption."
He nodded.
I glanced out at the street. Walking down the middle of the street was Tommy Shelby. I took a sharp breath, trying to tilt my head down while keeping my eyes on him.
I hoped that he wouldn't notice me. And if he did, he wouldn't do anything.
Tommy's eyes caught mine as soon as he got close enough to see me.
If he was shocked, then he didn't let it show. If he was angry, then he didn't let it show. He acted like he saw me every day. As if that was simply where I was supposed to be. Where I had always been.
It made me uneasy.
However, I tried to ignore it. I showed my partner around as best I could without ending up face-to-face with anyone too significant with my past.
I hadn't truly wanted to come back. My partner had mentioned wanting to know me completely, including where I had grown up. It was a hard situation to confront. It was hard to see him walking through the streets where I had experienced some of the worst and best moments of my life.
I remember him telling me that he wouldn't push me back there. If it was too painful, then I had every right to tell him such. And he didn't. He respected my hesitance and fear and then respected when I said that I could handle going back.
I had found an old friend for us to stay with. They had promised to not tell anyone where we were staying. I trusted them.
My partner had fallen asleep relatively easily in the small bed in the small room. I hadn't been as fortunate. I'm not certain what was causing my thoughts to refuse to settle, but I knew that I felt as if I was going mad.
After hours of torment, I pushed myself out of bed very carefully.
I walked outside and stood in the cold air. I took a few deep breaths, closing my eyes for a moment.
"Still restless?"
I flinched at the sound of a voice. I turned to see Tommy standing there.
"You never slept easy."
"A change of scenery can be tough for one's mind," I replied simply.
"Barely a change, is it?" he tilted his head a bit. "Last time I checked, this place was home for you."
"That was a long time ago."
"Was it?" he raised an eyebrow at me. I didn't respond to that. "Who are you with?"
"My partner," I answered. Maybe that idea would deter him for the time being. "He wanted to see where I was from. What made me who I am."
"How sweet," Tommy's voice was void of all emotion when he spoke. "Just in time for the races."
"I thought it was a good enough excuse."
He nodded.
"Why are you here, Tommy?"
"Is it wrong to visit an old friend?"
"If I were a friend, no. We both know it is far more than that."
"I wanted to see you."
"How did you find me?"
"I have my ways."
"You had someone follow me."
"They said that you and your partner seemed very happy," he explained. No shame in actions. "'Innocent too."
I scoffed, not having any will to entertain this conversation any longer.
"I don't remember you being so... modest around me."
"I don't remember you being so similar to a stalker around me, yet here we are," I shrugged. He chuckled, shaking his head at me.
"Been too long since we've talked."
"Well, don't get your hopes up. I don't plan to make these visits a normal thing."
"Is that right?"
"Yes," I said bluntly.
He didn't respond to that.
"I'm going to ask you to leave me alone, Tommy. I'll be gone again before you know it."
I turned around and walked back inside before another word could be spoken.
I wanted to believe that this would work. I wanted to believe that Tommy was a respectful enough person to listen to me.
I should have never been so foolish.
The day of the races, I tried to keep my spirits high. I stood next to my partner and smiled. I watched him smile. For just a moment, we were merely two people. Two painfully normal people. I had been craving that feeling for so long.
If only it hadn't been accompanied by the constant reminder of who I was the last time that I had ended up at the races.
I wanted to ignore it. However, I was still glancing around too much. I was still looking for any sign that chaos was going to erupt. I was still stuck in my old ways.
And then, I spotted Tommy.
He was standing silently off to the side. He made no effort to hide that he was looking at me and not at the races. He didn't need to. No one cared about him.
I knew he was only there for some other purpose. Tommy rarely troubled himself with being in the crowd. Only when he had a plan in mind. Maybe that was why I felt the familiar sense of dread that something today was going to go horribly wrong.
We held eye contact for what felt like ages before he nodded and turned to walk away. I understood what he was asking of me. And I knew that acting like I didn't, would only cause more problems.
"I'll be back in a moment," I muttered into my partner's ear.
"Are you alright," he asked.
I nodded. "Yes. I just need a moment."
I walked away from our spots and down into the halls. I could faintly hear the music in a nearby room. I ignored it, instead weaving between people to get through the hall.
I found a small room. Empty. I looked a little further down the hall and found John leaning against a wall some ways away. They were responsible for this. Not just Tommy. He had dragged the rest of them into this.
I pushed the door open with a shake of my head.
Tommy was waiting inside, just putting out a smoke as I walked in.
I felt the tension suffocating me as soon as I faced him.
I tried to remain calm and speak as if my voice didn't feel blocked by my worry, "What do you want, Tommy?"
"Took you long enough-"
"Don't start," I muttered. "Just answer my question."
"I want to know where you went," he replied.
"I don't think that is any of your business."
"After all that's happened, I deserve to know-"
"You don't deserve anything from me." I stepped closer to him, getting right in his face in the hopes that the venom of my words would hit just that much harder. "You don't deserve a breath from my lungs or a word muttered under my breath. You don't deserve anything."
He didn't seem to react to me being so close to him. "Then why come to meet me?"
"To tell you to leave me alone," I said.
"I don't believe you."
"I don't care what you choose to believe, Tommy."
"I believe that you're bored," he continued as if I hadn't spoken at all.
I scoffed, "Tommy-"
He cut me off, "I think that you ran away and your life got boring."
"Would you rather I'd stayed," I asked. "If I remember correctly, you made quite a habit of telling me to go. My safety and such."
"I live a dangerous life."
"And yet you're upset that I found something better." I saw the smallest smirk pull at his lips as he shook his head. God, I hated that smirk of his.
"You enjoyed the danger," he muttered. "You know it, I know it. You stayed because it excited you."
"Stop it."
"You watched men die. You stayed with me through the threats and the fights. You were threatened and hurt, yet you refused to leave whenever I told you that you needed to."
"That was a long time ago-"
"Was it?"
I felt every word fall to the ground. Each one useless. Like dull knives or unloaded guns. Nothing good enough to do the harm that I wanted.
So instead, I scoffed at him.
I stepped back, getting ready to leave before he asked me any more questions.
Unlike that night on the street, Tommy didn't just let me walk away. Instead, he grabbed my wrist.
Before I could truly comprehend what was happening, he pulled me forward and pressed his lips to mine. My eyes scrunched shut almost on instinct. I stood frozen for a few moments before roughly shoving him back. I reached out and slapped him.
"What the fuck is wrong with you, Tommy," I asked.
"Look me in the eye and tell me that you don't care for me," he said.
"That's not the point-"
"Is it not?"
I shook my head and took another step away from him. "Do you know the person I was when I was here, Tommy? Genuinely?"
"I knew you as strong," he replied. "Brave. Protective. I believe Arthur admitted that you were scary once."
"You knew me as broken," I corrected. "You knew me as damaged. Rejected and desperate."
His jaw clenched.
"I don't think you understand how different I am now," I explained. "And how much better I am because of it. You knew the version of me that had been thrown out by every last person that claimed to care about me. The version that just needed to feel something other than pain. Terrified that one day, you'd wake up and tell me to go because you didn't want me, not for my safety. And that's not your fault... it's mine.
"I didn't even confront how bad I had gotten until a man broke in while I was in bed. You were fighting and I couldn't do anything. I remember that a bullet from his gun got buried in the wall. He tried to shoot me, but he had shit aim when he panicked. You tried to cover it. Hide it from me. It never worked. Every time I saw that room, my eyes always found that spot in the wall.
"After I left, I was so ashamed of that version of me. I hid them, lied about them, pushed away anyone that could possibly figure out an ounce of who I had been. And then... I met him. And he showed up at my doorstep the morning after I had sent him away. He did and does accept everything that I am. Even the parts that I didn't want to tell him.
"I'm not ashamed of who I was anymore. I'm not ashamed of how I felt for you. I am not ashamed of a single moment that I had with you. And yes, I am bored. Bored out of my mind. But I have no room or reason to complain about that. Because every time that I think of going back to what excited me... it is just pain and violence and chaos and... I can't do that again."
Something in his eyes shifted. No matter how much he wanted to hide it, I saw it. It felt like this was the first time that Tommy was seeing me. He wasn't seeing some flashback or merely revisiting some old memory. He was only seeing me.
And I saw what I could have sworn were tears form in his eyes.
I took a deep breath and stepped forward. I leaned over and gently kissed his cheek.
"Goodbye, Tommy," I murmured before stepping back.
I didn't hear him speak up until I got to the door of the small room, "Good luck."
I grinned to myself, not turning around. "You too."
And as I walked out, I felt my shoulders relax for the first time in ages.
I wasn't looking back at who I used to be with shame or neutrality. I was looking at that version of myself with more pride than I had ever felt before.
I was exactly who I wanted to be, and I would fully accept that... one day.
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separatist-apologist · 4 months
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Lying In Between The Memories
You could call it paradise but it looks just like hell to me
Summary: Following the blood rite, Gwyneth Berdara can't shake the memories of a life long-gone.
The shadowsinger can't seem to move on after five centuries of loving the same woman.
Together, they'll have to carve a new path forward.
Read on AO3 | Previous Chapter
[ongoing TW for Sexual Assault]
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Gwyn didn’t know what, exactly, woke her. A warming in her blood, a flare of light in her dreams. Something just at the periphery of her waking mind screamed suddenly, the sound of it echoing when her eyes flew open. Blinking against the dark, Gwyn tried to recall the person who had been lingering there. Had it been a woman? She took a deep breath, the exhale of air taking the remnant of memory with it. 
Someone had called for her. She knew it with a certainty she couldn’t shake that someone had been there—someone who didn’t belong, someone who had used magic to press in only to be forced back out.
Gwyn swallowed, rolling to her back and just out of Azriel’s slackened embrace.
Azriel.
For a moment she’d forgotten why he was there or what they’d been doing. Her mate, lost in what seemed to be a peaceful sleep. His shadows hadn’t returned though the drawn curtains kept any light from illuminating his beautiful face. It was tempting to touch him—to give in to the clawing urge in her chest.
Quiet as a mouse, Gwyn slipped from the bed instead. Let him sleep for once, she reasoned as she dressed quickly. Azriel didn’t stir when she left the room, closing the door behind her. She barely remembered falling asleep—they’d tumbled right back into each other the moment he’d finished, his tongue sliding over her thighs before he’d flipped her to her stomach, taking her again and again.
She felt sore—she should have felt spent. Instead Gwyn merely wanted. It was enough to make her teeth ache, her mind begging her to go wake him up. She knew he’d be delighted if she did, pulling her against him with a sleepy smile reserved only for her. Unaware of what was happening between them, that the insatiable desire he felt wasn’t merely his own masculine urges but a mating bond desperate for acceptance.
It was a problem for another time—maybe another century. Gwyn was confronted with a different problem the moment she lit a candle in their dark, shared common room. What had once been a neat, tidy space was a wreck, torn apart by invisible hands long gone. Cushions were tossed to the floor books upended and strewn about with loose pages carpeting the stone floor. And on the table where Gwyn’s research had once lain…
“No!” she hissed, looking toward the closed door. Had they locked it? Had they even remembered to? She could see it was unlatched, though if it had been magic or merely luck that allowed the would-be thief into their room, Gwyn couldn’t say.
It didn’t occur to her to go wake Azriel. Gwyn merely shoved on her boots, grabbed her most lethal dagger, and stalked out into the dark. It was Cassian’s training that made her stop for a moment, that caused Gwyn to take a deep breath of air.
The room smelled like sex, cut with the stale scent of herself and Azriel’s time there. And just beneath all of it was something decidedly feminine . Something akin to vanilla and coconut, something warm and sweet and perhaps a little scared, too. Maybe that was Gwyn’s fear she was smelling—she couldn’t be sure.
Take a breath, Berdara, Cassian’s voice whispered in her mind. 
You’re the predator, not the prey.
That wasn’t Cassian—that was Catrin. 
Her sister was right. Gwyn had nothing to be afraid of, though she wasn’t sure why she thought that. Only that there was a rightness to the feeling as she slid into the hall, careful and quiet as any of Azriel’s shadows. Whoever had come knew what they’d been looking for and to Gwyn, there was really only one person it could be, scent be damned.
Eris Vanserra.
Perhaps he’d sent some trembling servant to do his dirty work. Maybe that was just how he smelled and Gwyn hadn’t noticed before, too distracted by Azriel. She’d been in this palace for days and no one had disturbed her and now her cipher was gone just as Eris arrived? How he’d found out she was researching Koschei didn’t matter—all that mattered was she got her research back before he went back to Autumn and used it all against her, her home, and potentially the rest of the world. 
If only she knew where to find him. Surely he was in some fine room similar to hers? Somewhere in the wing she now stalked down, somewhere close enough he could slip in unheard, get what he needed, and slip back out. Gwyn’s heart pounded, clogging her ability to hear clearly as she surveyed the dark. Azriel could ask his shadows, she reasoned, some of her anger starting to fade into panic. 
Just wake him.
Wasn’t he trying to teach her she didn’t need to do everything herself? She could…she could just ask. And he’d do it for no other reason than she’d requested it and he cared about her. It was habit to want to do things alone but she knew better.
Gwyn turned abruptly and had made it two steps when she saw a figure stumbling toward her. The smell of salt and copper flooded her senses, raising the hair on the back of her neck. 
“Wait,” a familiar voice managed, rough and hoarse as though they’d been screaming.
Gwyn yielded a step toward them.  “Kai?” she whispered. 
“Please,” he managed, collapsing to the ground before she could reach him. His face connected loudly with the cool ground beneath them, head bouncing as he exhaled. Gwyn reached for his shoulders, surprised not to find hardened muscle beneath his threadbare clothes but jutting bone. Turning him, she could see the sharp contours of his cheeks, the curve of his jaw with his skin stretched over top too tautly to truly look mortal.
He looked hollowed out and half dead and the smell of him was worse. “Where have you been?”
“My mother,” he managed, eyes fixated not on her face but at the ceiling. “My mother, she…”
“Shh,” Gwyn whispered, pulling his head into her lap as she sat on the floor. “Tell me later. We need to get you help—”
“You need to run,” he whispered, urgency lacing his words. “Run, run now before…”
Cold wound its way up Gwyn’s spine at the sound of steps behind them, soft and ominous as they made their way toward them. Someone was coming. Kai’s breathing quickened and he twisted from her grasp, those dull eyes of his that had once bothered her so filled with so much terror. He knew what was coming for them—had experienced something so horrible that Gwyn couldn’t bring herself to turn and look. 
It wasn’t fear making her cold, but the presence itself. Something more than shadow—something old and terrible, something ancient and evil. It would consume them both, would take whatever was left of Kai before it consumed her, too. Gwyn remembered the screaming in her head—could hear a voice she almost recognized pulled back up by the rising panic.
Use the light! That woman’s voice demanded—not Catrin, or Emerie, or Nesta, though it felt like Nesta. 
All Gwyn knew was she had a second to act—to pull out the burning heat that had always flickered along her fingers and drive the cold back. Flame erupted erratically, engulfing her with raw power unlike anything she’d ever felt before. It was as if her blood recognized the creature coming toward them and had awoken from its own ancient slumbering to fight this cosmic battle. 
The heat was unbearable even to Gwyn who could weather it, could withstand it. She didn’t know how to settle the flames that rose higher and higher, smoke curling like shadows as nearby curtains began to smolder. Somewhere in the hall, Kai had gone silent, shielded by the wall of flame that was now Gwyn.
She dared to twist her body, to look at the recoiling cold slithering further and further away. Darkness slithered from the figure, draping them in a dark so ancient and old that she thought even the High Lord of Night himself would have shuddered to touch. 
But there, atop the figure's head, laid a crown of darkest adamantine. So sharp it seemed to slice against her vision—nine peaked daggers glinting brutally. She’d thought for a moment it was retreating and she’d managed to scrape out an accidental victory. But the creature paused far enough from the dark she only just make it out, standing in a stairway as it waited.
And waited.
Gwyn knew she’d burn out before dawn, her body trembling from the rush of power so foreign to her that Gwyn had no idea how she’d called it or how to extinguish it. 
Take your time, that darkness seemed to whisper, tendrils creeping forward to test the strength of her wall before recoiling with furious pain. I have time.
Gwyn took a breath.
Predator, not prey.
She didn’t dare look behind her to see where Kai had gone. Something told her he was dead—and it hadn’t been her who had killed him, though perhaps that was merely wishful thinking. Gwyn rose on unsteady legs, a newborn fawn staring down a lion. Those sharpened spikes seemed to grin somehow, the darkness yawning wide with an ancient, ugly laugh.
Your kind never changes. 
Whatever that meant. 
Gwyn took a step backwards, slamming into the chest of an unfamiliar body. It wasn’t Azriel’s fingers that curled over the tops of her arms, nor was it Azriel’s magic intertwining with her own.
“You called,” Eris Vanserra whispered, wreathed in the same red hot flames currently emanating from her own frame. “What have you done?”
“That wasn’t me,” she whispered, knowing he wasn’t asking about the magic. Gwyn had always known her family hailed from some courtier in the Autumn Court, had guessed the flickering flames belonged to them. There wasn’t enough worth mentioning to anyone, nor a well of power that might ever get the attention of the powerful nobility.
Until now. 
“Hold your breath,” Eris ordered, wrapping scalding arms around her frame.
NO! The darkness roared, but Eris pulled a crackling hearth and cool, autumn wind around them, shattering the protective magic that ought to have kept them trapped in order to make their escape. It was too late. One moment Gwyn was certain they were going to die and the next they were outside beneath a blanket of stars.
Safe.
“Put it out!” Eris ordered, the magic in his words immediately banking her flames. Gwyn’s legs collapsed beneath her, her body sinking into the loamy, damp earth below. They weren’t in Montesere any longer—the stars above were different, the horizon near lilac from the earlier rising sun.
“Where are we?” she breathed, curling her fingers into mossy. 
“The Middle,” he replied, running a hand through copper colored hair. Whirling around, Eris crouched to look at her. “Where is your mother?”
“Dead.”
“Dead,” he repeated, amber eyes glazed as he took this in. “I could guess your father.”
“He was Spring Court. It’s my grandfather…is…is it—”
“Not mine,” he snapped, though she thought she detected relief in his words. “You belong to my mother…and she belongs to the Vanserras. Which means you do, too.”
“I—” Gwyn swallowed. Her mother had never shared her lineage and Gwyn had never cared enough to ask. A quarter nymph, and now nobility on the Lady of Autumn’s side. “But the magic—”
“The Vanserra’s were so inbred our family tree was more of a bush. Our magic was waning and my father was in trouble. Your power, my power…our power comes from my mothers line.”
“I have to go back,” Gwyn breathed, trying to push herself up. “I need—”
“Are you insane?” he hissed, grabbing her by the shoulders when she managed to rise to her feet. “That thing was about to devour you like it did the prince. You need to stay exactly where you are.”
“Azriel—”
“Is a battle honed warrior capable of handling himself,” Eris insisted. Gwyn reached for her dagger the same moment Eris grabbed her wrist. She managed to slice him sharply against the cheek before he slammed her against a twisting tree behind her, the force of it enough to knock the blade from her hand. “You’re coming to the Forest House.”
“I belong to the Night Court,” she whispered, twisting in his grasp for all the good it did.
“You belong to the Vanserras,” he replied, his face all but carved of stone. “My father will be waiting to see you.”
“Eris,” she whispered, knowing full well her words would mean nothing to him. “Eris, please don’t do this.”
Something like pity flared in his gaze. “Time to go.”
Maybe, she reasoned, it would have been better to be consumed quickly than to be sent into the prison that was Autumn. 
“You can’t hold me indefinitely,” Gwyn threatened.
“Don’t take it so personally. This is merely politics and you’re a convenient pawn.”
And with another rush of cool autumn wind, Gwyn and Eris left the Middle.
Straight for the heart of Autumn.
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madwomansapologist · 7 months
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Autumn Thunderstorm | Chapter 6 - Tomorrow you'll know
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series synopsis: Thranduil thought the recent attack of spiders on a periphery village was the only thing deserving of his attencion. If he could've imagined what he would found there, who he would found there, the Elvenking would wait a millenia in front of that river so he could see her sooner. Or: how Gandalf managed to keep a secret for 14 months.
sixth chapter synopsis: It was a difficult choice, but Aerin made it for you. Now with nothing holding you back, you already had the answer Thranduil longed for: yes. Now your only concern is the anxiety about the reunion. [7K]
warnings: female!reader. lotr kinda of violence. pre-Smaug.
glossary: Vendë: Maiden┆Rae, dimwë. Tolo, govano ven: Smile, sad girl. Come, meet us!┆Maenwë: Clever girl
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Few things are eternal in this life. Lands can disappear after earthquakes, seas dry up with the seasons, stone fortresses are invaded and conquered. Not even the star that lights up the day, so far away since the prime of its creation, is a certainty. There is no way of knowing whether it will stay there tomorrow.
Certainly you are not an exception. Your face has changed, your body has changed, your mind has changed. Your hair continues to grow, your clothes continues to wear out, your skin continues to collect scars. Things keep changing. Now your mouth speaks a new language, just as your mind carries the weight of friendly words, and your body knows the excruciating pain of near death.
And your endless gratitude reached its limits.
In the silence of the dawn, you knew exactly where to step on the flooring so it would not wake anyone. You crossed the room, stepping on your toes where the wood was older, and held the doorknob. Slowly, carefully, you locked the door. Part of your anguish permeated the wood.
You closed your eyes and tried to ease your mind. You do not know how long it took, but you were able of creating a thick layer of ice on it. How does someone who freezes a river find it difficult to do something like that? Still, although eternity is a completely impossible target to hit, your ice will be capable of lasting a few hours.
It will be enough. 
It was easy to pack. But to see everything you knew, all those things that for so long were part of your life, and just leave them behind… You do not have time to waste. Not with those you can not carry, or with people you do not want near you.
You folded your clothes carefully, you do not want them to wrinkle during your journey, and approached your table. You knelt down and fingered the underside of the wood, removing the letter you had glued there. The last letter. You tucked the only letter that survived between the pages of your most beloved book.
It seemed right to put the two together.
Ready to leave, you opened the window and sat on the frame. For the last time you looked at the place that for fourteen months had been your home. “Goodbye”, you whispered. “Thank you.” And you meant it. 
Without ever looking back, without any regrets, you sneaked out of the inn to never come back.
But despise your anger, despise your spite and grief over the things you lost, you left something behind. Something that proved that even your certainty was not enough to freeze your heart. That even all that pain you carry is not enough to make you forget about everything. You left two letters behind. One addressed to Gandalf. The other for Aerin.
It was a goodbye. Or something close to it.
To wander in the early hours of the morning was strange. The cold fog made it difficult to see the path, but you already knew it. You had crossed it so many times, but never you felt so lonely doing it. Not even your memories accompanied you. All you had was your handbag and yourself. 
And still, you did not looked back. Not even once.
The sun showed signs that it had not decided to disappear when you arrived at the village. It was still very dark, so many stars were visible in the infinite sky, but the heat made the fog rise. Seeing lamps being lit, bakers waking up, you understood that what you felt was not a clinging loneliness. 
It was fear. 
Was it from the dark and what could be hidden between the trees? Or maybe it was about Aerin noticing what you did. It is easy to run away and leave a letter behind, but to face her? Perhaps you feared arriving safely at Luthien’s house. Because if that happens, it means that all you can do now is to wait.
The sun set so the moon could shone in its place, and all you did was watch the fire turning your letters into ashes. There you where, motionless, staring at the remains of your treasures. She did not need to do such a vile thing. To burn them before your eyes. Aerin was cruel. She chose to be. So you made your own choice without thinking about her. Once in a long, long time you did something for you. 
You chose the unknown future. You chose incertitude. You chose a life of joys, peace, harmonica. You chose a life of sadness, wars, losses. You chose boredom. You chose heroism. You chose evil. Parsimony and excess, eternal nature and imminent death, painful truth and necessary lies. You chose a life where you will be afraid forever and evermore.
You chose tomorrow and whatever it has for you.
That night after the fireplace ceased you came back to Luthien’s house and asked her to send a letter for you. And the letter she send was marked with tears and written in a hurry. It was made of lies. It said you were spending the last few days at Luthien’s house because of the bite. It was also made of omissions. It said nothing about what had just happened to you. And it was the truest, more honest letter you ever wrote. 
Because it started with a yes.
Even though fear hurts you soul, you have never felt so determined to live. Any fear is better than a life of imposed limits. You prefer a million butterflies in you stomach than a withered certainty. Infinite looks nice and all, but you want more than just that.
And Thranduil offered you so much more than that.
Does he knows that he did that? That he gave the possibility of learning more about you powers, about the nature around you, and also the chance of a fresh start. Thranduil gave the unmissable chance to discover the world beyond the valley. But Thranduil also changed old certainties.
You were so sure you would never see him again. Now the only thing separating you from him is the path ahead. Is time. There it is. The true reason behind your fear. Knowing that you will see Thranduil again, and it means he will also see you.
He lingered with you. The way Thranduil hides his harshness on his politeness. Or the way he never, not even once, treated you like you were lesser than him even though he is a king. And his accent, so hard and projected, different than anything you have ever heard. His handwriting showed you the care and effort he put onto making his soul clear for you. Thranduil, despise anything he may think about himself, is so kind. 
Does he miss you as much as you miss him? Does Thranduil knows that even if he could not help you with your powers, if his realm had nothing to add in your life, if you had nothing to gain with that: it would still be worth it? Does he imagine that seeing him again is enough for you?
Does he feel the same way about you?
Absorbed in your own memories, you did not even notice that Luthien was waiting for you on the stairs of her house. “Did you get everything you needed?”
“Everything I have”, you showed the handbag you carried.
“Does that have space for more?”
You nodded, and Luthien entered her house without closing the door. You waited outside, glaring at the sunrise. The sky was golden. There were pink clouds, orange lines in the sky, but everything was golden. After such a dark dawn, you could not help but feel hopeful for the daylight.
“I will miss you”, you dealt with the elephant in the room as soon as you heard Luthien returning. “I need you to know this. Because I really will.”
Luthien gave you two different ointments. One was greenish, very liquid, and the other was almost transparent. As you held them, Luthien caressed your hands. “If everything works out for you I will never see you again”, Luthien whispered. “I need you to know that I am counting on it.”
The hug you gave her almost crushed Luthien’s ribs. You could not care less. She helped you wrap the jars and put them with the rest of your things. And until the carriage arrived, you talked as if it would not be the last time.
You did not know what the carriage looks like, you had only saw three or five during your life, but just a look at the one approaching was enough for you to be sure it was the one Thranduil warned you about.
It was a double-decker carriage, drawn by four horses, and the charioteer who drove it wore clothes as beautiful as the two guards sitting beside him. The red paint covered the cabin perfectly, the curtains hiding what was inside it. Above it, the Woodland banner roared. 
“Until never again”, said Luthien.
The charioteer took your handbag. You felt a little bit guilty that he leave his post to help you with something so tiny. The man opened the cabin’s door, and gesture for you to enter it. Both the guards greeted you.
You approached, and he extend his hand for you to get on. For the first and only time that morning, you looked back. You had tears begging to roll down your face, but you smiled anyways. “I hope so.”
And the moment the door closed, you could only wonder if your choice was the right one. You already have the answer for the question, and is such a simple one: maybe tomorrow you will know. And everyday for the rest of your life the answer will be the same: maybe tomorrow you will know. 
Now all you have to do is wait.
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If the Elvenking’s Halls staff were forced to vote — and if they were also guaranteed their right to privacy — ninety-eight percent of them would decide that life was easier when Thranduil was away. That equation has a two percent margin of error.
Ancient tapestries telling stories from other eras have been brushed. New chair were ordered from the royal carpenters, tables were sanded in all their details, and every wall was cleaned with warm cloths. For days anywhere someone could walk would have part of the staff working until exhaustion. Until it was perfect.
And the Elvenking was never satisfied.
Thranduil made a point of personally analyzing each room, and his criticisms were cruelly honest. In the moment he finally said that it was perfect, the praise was already accompanied by a new order. Tidy up the stables, brush the horses, check the library’s organization. Royal painters were invited to spend the next few months at the Halls, just as the best singers will be part of the dinners and dances.
No part of the Halls were left untouched. Not even the Elvenking’s chamber.
The curtains were washed, the table organized, candlesticks replaced with new, more polished ones. But what really mattered was not his chamber, but who lives on it. Thranduil took measurements for new robs to be sewn, new jewels were cast into rings, his hair was brushed to perfection. 
What changed the entire staff’s opinion was the Elvenking’s concerned proving to be millions times stronger when it came to that empty chamber. Who lives for so long find easy to interpret those signs. When Thranduil could not sleep because he needed to chose whether the bed sheet should be golden or navy blue, it was easy to come to a conclusion.
The Elvenking was reduced to a man in love.
And even that he made it everyone’s problem, it was a good change. It made the Elvenking become obsessed with every minor detail, but it also made him younger. It made him want something new than to just endure. And Greenwood seemed to blossom with its king.
Tuor followed the carpenters carrying furniture to the once empty chambers, dodging workers trying to gather dust and maids removing curtains. That room was busier than a war trenches, but the dark-haired knight continued until he was at his king’s side. Tuor watched him instruct where the cabinets should be placed, warn about the room needing to be warm all the time, say that blue is definitely the best choice.
“There are more important matter to discuss, your grace. Things that will last longer than a braided cloth”, Tuor whispered to him. “And it should be golden.”
Thranduil sighed. He knew it was the wrong choice the moment he finish speaking. “Golden it is.” Thranduil hesitated before turning his head towards Tuor, his eyes still glued to the chamber in front of him. “The sun runes were translated?”
Tuor took a step back, indicating that they needed privacy. The king led the way, following the passages of wide halls carved from living trees. The corridors became emptier as they moved away from the chamber, and after a few minutes of silence Thranduil stared at him. Tuor was tall, but he needed to look up to speak to his king.
“How much they know?”
“Everything that matters”, Tuor sighed. “How our watch shifts works, where the wall is weakest, our combat strategies. They even traced spider’s nests. I just do not understand, your grace, why sun runes. They are goblins, orcs, vile creatures. Should not it be moon ones?”
 Thranduil crossed his arm. “Tell me: why is the Halls under the ground and not high on it? Would it not be more difficult to attack something you can not reach?”
“In some cases, yes”, replied Tuor. “But this does not mean that our defense will be at a loss. It is impossible to enter without us knowing, and from below we can evacuate the entirety of our realm without arousing suspicion. Even if our enemies were stronger or more numerous than our army, our passages are deeper and safer. Our trees are strong, your grace. And those creatures we fight have not even begun to understand that.”
Thranduil agreed, noticing how quickly Tuor turned his thoughts into words. There is no way for him to be a great ruler if he is not surrounded by great minds. “It means you understand that not everything is as simple as it seems. Think again. Why sun runes?”
Tour hesitated. He opened his mouth, but could not think of anything smart to say. Not when he felt so cornered. Than the realization came. There is a reason for those maps to not be written in a way those monsters could understand. “They are not meant for them.”
“Exactly.” The Elvenking moved towards the council hall. Thranduil already knew the amount of work they would have for the next weeks would be equivalent to the work the Halls’ staff had for the last few days. “Do you understand what that means?”
“What, your grace?”
The doors to the council hall opened. Before Thranduil could enter, he turned to his old friend and gave him a smirk. “It means that our traitor will be easier to find.”
This friendship is old enough for Tuor to be able to understand the things Thranduil chose not to speak out loud. Easier to find? It was just Thranduil’s way of saying it will be easier to kill.
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It was easy to fall asleep in the carriage cabin. The benches were comfortable, there were soft blankets inside them, even the constant movements of rocks and holes on the path turn it into the perfect environment to rest. You had two books with you, but with the movement your eyes ache trying to read it. 
You started to spend nights awake and days asleep. It was easy to get lost in your imagination just to realize you were actually dreaming. What made you notice time passing was not the sky, the changes in temperature, or the guard checking every now and then if everything was fine. It was the trees.
Going down the mountain and away from Rivendell, both the climate and the river changed. There was less water for the threes, and also more heat. The light green faded, thick branches thinned, colorful flowers had not yet bloomed. You tend to blur your vision so you can see a smudge of colors. 
If you were not sleeping, you were appreciating the view. Not even your fertile imagination could create all those different places. Every idiosyncracy was marked in your memory, and even the most common scenarios meant something to you. It was a reminder that whatever happens from now on is part of your deal with tomorrow. 
A few times you placed your head over the window, eyes closed and winds ruffling your hair, stretching your hands as far as you could. It was as if you could uproot one of the distant trees and bring it to you. The guards always ordered you to keep your entire body inside the cabin, but you could not help it.
You could, you just did not want to.
Not when you feel so light, almost as if the right wind could make you fly away.
Your mouth stays shut for most part of your days. The charioteer is kind, and both guards are way to invested on guaranteeing you are safe, but they are away from you. Inside of the cabin, all you can do is hear. The world around you — sometimes, at the middle of the night, you swear you can hear its engines turning —, but also at what the three elves chat about when they think you will not hear.
The charioteer is anxious about his daughter pregnancy. One of the guards, Lhoris, fell in love last spring with a singer. Your heart almost melt inside your chest when you heard him calling her a siren. The other one is more reserved. It took you two days to hear him speaking for more than seven seconds. 
There were a few times when they whispered about the Elvenking. About how he spend so long away that some feared that Thranduil went to the Undying Lands. About how he bravely chased monster after monster and never once a elve under his protection fell down. About how Greenwood seemed to blossom after his arrive.
Maybe because you know nothing about kings, maybe because you heard a few things about Mirkwood, but you thought Thranduil’s subjects would fear him. Your opinion changed, but it still surprises you that what you heard was gratitude. Relief. Recognition.
It happened during sunset. They thought you were sleeping, at any other day they would be right. But green leaves just turned into faded brown and you wanted to see it all. Bari, the quiet guard, wondered what made his king chose him to this task. To protect someone so dear to him.
That made you heart fluster. Dear.
You also got interest on the things they do not say out loud. 
Like how the two guards follow you closely whenever there is a stop at some village. One day you were bored so just ran from them, and took half a second so they would be right behind you. You try to do this whenever you think they are distracted. They never truly are.
Or how whenever you need something in your handbag the charioteer take extra care so you will not stretch your arms. Your clothes do not show the scar across your shoulder, but you think he was informed to be careful about it. You think Thranduil warned them about it.
Sleep, observe, listen: they all are just ways of stopping you from spending your time thinking about him. Every day makes you a little bit more anxious, because every day that passes get you closer to him. Thranduil, Thranduil, Thranduil. That is not just a name anymore, it is a intricate melody for your mind.
How should you act when you finally see him? The right thing is to bow, you know that, but that feels so wrong. And to hug him… would a king feel offended by that? Perhaps it is too disrespectful for those kind of people. Should you have asked him what was the proper way to behave on court? Or would that too be offensive?
You woke up when the carriage suddenly stopped moving. You had just got on your feet when the charioteer knocked on the door. You fixed your hair before opening it. “Another stop?”
“No, unfortunately no”, Tanyl reached for your hand.
 You thanked him as get out of the cabin. All for horses were free from their restraints, and were saddle by the guards. When you walked towards them, sleep being expelled from your body, you saw it. You saw everything.
“Apparently rained in Greenwood last night, and some trees fell and blocked out path. We need to follow the Elf-path on horseback, vendë. We lament for the inconvenience.”
Even if they have burned all your clothes, if it was the end of the world, you would not have cared. What was in front of you, around you, was way more important than anything else. Than anyone else.
It was autumn. 
You know it has just begin. The citadel reported the change od seasons a couple of weeks ago. Cold wind has become more common than the warm one, leaves have started to fall, fruits stopped growing. Summer ended, autumn begin, but this… Even someone who only heard what autumn is would recognize it.
This place was autumn itself.
It seemed to be a faded orange, but every other tone revealed itself for those that payed attention. Burgundy leaves, twisted brown branches, greenish swallows. A speck of blue shook the branches, and soon the butterflies separated. Its blue wings became multi-colored with the sunset reflection. Wind made everything feel so alive. Of course plants are living being, you know that, but they seemed to breath. To move in harmony.
Some may only see an orange spot, but they did not pay attention to the singularities of the world around them. To all the beauty, and life, and sweet melodies. Those who can not see its colors are simply unable of perceiving beauty even when its right in front of their noses.
That made you blood boil. Your fists clenched, as if you would start a fight with anyone who dared to say something bad about this realm. And maybe you really would. You have never been on a fight, but for this place you would.
Mirkwood. How dare them? This place does not deserve such a horrendous name. How did those bad rumors made a way into everyone’s mind? Mirk. It is a land invaded by spiders, with enchanted waters and intoxicating air, but it is much more than just that. It is beautiful. Delicate. And it endured for so long.
That word will never escape your mouth anymore. You swear on this. From now on, it is just Greenwood. As it should. As it deserves.
“Do not lament it”, you gave a beaming smile. Without waiting for instructions, you got near the horses. Its been enough time since you rode one. “Are we closer?”
Lhoris guided the group, he knew the Elf-path better than any of them, and made sure that your horse would stay close to his all the time. “A few hours more, and you will be able to rest inside the Elvenking’s Halls.”
Time never took so long to pass. It was a beautiful view, a stunning one, but at every corner you expected to see his palace. To see him. And at every corner all that waited for you was more of the marvelous forest.
Within time you noticed it. The enchantment on the path. Gandalf showed you something similar, and smaller, before. Aerin tended to be mad at you whenever you spend the night reading, and when you told him that… All Gandalf heard was a chance of mischief.
He made it so easily. When you are on you armchair, you are protected. No one can see you, or notice what you are doing. You feel like a child whenever you used it. Like a rebel.
Suddenly your excitement disappeared. You thought about your past as if it was your present.
“Rae, dimwë”, an intricate harmony woke you ip from your thoughts. You looked around, but the sound seemed to be coming from everywhere at once. “Tolo, govano ven!”
Bari, after seeing how startled you got, rode to you. “They are welcoming us.”
“Oh”, you tried not to sound to surprised. It did not worked. You remember hearing once about how music is important to elves. It is used to spread knowledge, to make people feel better, to play with others feelings. “What did they sang?”
“Smile, sad lady”, Bari recited. “Come, join us.”
You tried to force a smile, and after a feel seconds it felt real. They were welcoming you. Why get sad thinking about tomorrow when you could be thinking about the present? Then it hits you. Welcoming. “Does that mean we are near?”
Tanyl nodded. “Almost there.”
You almost went faster than Lhoris. The only thing that stopped you was the fear of taking the wrong path and ending up in trouble. Your hands sweated against the reins, and the birdsong was replaced by the strong beating of your heart.
The trees were old deep in the forest. So long, bigger than houses. Even your horse took a good few seconds to cross the entire length of one. And they were so high that the sky had already disappeared. As the minutes piled up, the long bridge came into view. It was perhaps older than those trees. And passing over the waterfall, it led to the gates that separate the forest from the Elvenking’s Halls.
So that is a palace. You have seen engravings in books, but nothing would make you understand how tall it would be. Just the entrance, the placid blue windows and the heavy gate that could only be touched by those allowed to do so, was a luxury you never thought possible to witness.
And inside the Envelking’s Halls, you finally understood what Thranduil meant by a birdhouse.
It was as if the trees were born to this. All the bridges, stairs, walls and ceilings: everything was alive. Everything was a plant growing and expanding. The engineered columns, the perfectly sized doors, the constant moat that showed that the great asset of it was not the height of the palace, but its depth.
This place is definitely not worthy of being called a birdhouse, but you can not think of a better way to describe it.
Your traveling companions leave to look after the horses. You followed new guards, who welcomed you by name and instructed you on the path. Your nails were at the brick of penetrating your skin. They opened a door, and inside the room was the first person that was not a guard to welcome you.
And it was not Thranduil.
It was a woman. A beautiful, elegant woman. When her eyes met yours, they seemed to shine like a million stars. She got near you, took your hands between hers, and squeezed them lightly. “It is so nice to finally meet you. Please, call me Lorie.”
Her hands felt so warm on yours. “It is nice to finally be here, Lorie.”
“You must be so tired.” Lorie stood next to you, and you imitated her as she started to walk. Some part of you feared that you would not be treated well, but she quickly made those thoughts evaporate. Lorie took you to a staircase, and climbed it slowly. “Three days, right?”
“Four”, you answered. “I am pretty sure Bari, Lhoris and Tanyl are way more tired than me. All I did was wait.”
“You will not fool me”, her laugh made your smile grew bigger. She had such a alluring way of being. “I saw you. You rode til here, and that I know is so exhausting. Horses see me as the enemy. That is why I am the one welcoming you.”
“What do you mean, Lorie?”
 Lorie turned into a corner, and you tried to make yourself pay attention to her face but everything was so beautiful. So different than anything you ever saw. “You deserve to rest. And to bath, and eat. It would not be very polite of a king to welcome a guest that would rather sleep on the floor than to be part of a conversation.”
You licked your lips, and hoped your voice would not changed with his mention. “When will I… see the king?”
Lorie smirked. She guided you to another stair. “At night, during banquet.” 
Lost in the immensity of your thoughts, it took a few seconds for you to notice the silence. In an attempt to take the attention away from yourself, you turned to Lorie. “Why are you accompanying me?”
“Our king has granted me the honor of being your lady-in-waiting”, Lorie seemed very happy about this. You did not really know what that meant. “I hope to meet your standards.”
You thought about saying you did not have any, but that sounded a little bit rude. “Do not be so hard on yourself. Thank you for helping me, Lorie.”
At some point she entered a corridor, turned at a crossroads, climbed another staircase. You were too caught up in the conversation to pay attention. The only thing that made you take your focus off Lorie was her stopping walking.
The tall door had elks carved into it. You felt tempted to touch them, but you did not. “Ready?” Lori asked, holding the doorknob.
You nodded. It was the only thing you could do.
Sun reached your eyes. The long balcony allowed you to see the forest from above. The sight moved you. All the colors and sound that accompanied you were even brighter and louder from there. There was a mountain in the distance, the river that led to the waterfall in front of the gates, the immensity of that corner of the world. 
The room was large, bigger than any room you had ever been in until today, and so warm. There were candles scattered throughout the room, candelabra decorating each piece of furniture. You followed the lights, circling the room, and slid your finger through one of the shelfs on the wall. They were all books with the common language and Elvish one in it.
A long tapestry telling a ancient story covered the floor, and it broke your heart when you had to step on it to reach the wide bed in the center of the room. If Lorie was not there, you would have jumped on it. Instead, you sat on your bed and caressed the golden bed sheets. “So pretty”, you whispered to yourself.
“Everything is perfect?” Lorie closed the door behind her. She got closer, hands supported at her bottom back. “We can change anything. From the curtains tissue to whatever book you may desire. All you need to do is inform us.”
You hid your smile behind your hand, but it had already reached your eyes. “It will not be necessary.” You took a deep breath. It smelled like pomegranate and cinnamon.
A knock on the door made you get up from the bed. Lorie opened it, you could not see who was on the other side. The person handed her a handbag, and Lorie closed the door one more time.
Lorie placed it on your bed. She walked away and opened the gigantic closet doors on the wall in front of your bed. Carefully, you took out your two books from your handbag. You placed them on a shelf, making sure they would not get wrinkled, and when you turned to you bed you saw Lorie snooping through your things.
“What is your favorite color?” Lorie asked you. “It do not need to be a eternal answer, tell me just about today. What is your favorite color today?”
You thought the change of subject was strange, but you enjoyed the way Lorie worded her question. It was so much easier to find an answer. “Green. Why?”
Lorie nodded towards the closet, and only then did you realize that it was not empty. Good heavens, you could have come without any bags and it would not have been a problem. Maybe the closet do not even have room for the few things you brought. “I thought it would be easier for you to chose.”
“Is all this mine?” Lorie agreed. “All of this?”
Lorie approached, and squeezed your shoulders while you admired everything. It was one thing when Thranduil gave you a dress as a gift. It was something occasional. But this… So much jewelry, gold, chains. Silk, velvet, cotton. All the colors of the rainbow were there, just as those that are not part of it. This is a treasure hidden inside a closet.
“I think green will suit you perfectly”, Lorie whispered. “Let’s get you ready for tonight, shall we?”
Your heart flustered once again.
⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯ ⋆✦⋆ ⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯
Thranduil is usually responsible for making meetings last longer than they were first supposed to. He does not accept leaving one without all the answers he wants. And even when he has them, the Elvenking is not so easily satisfied. You do not reign for so long without being able to gather all the knowledge necessary to make the best decisions.
In a moment as disastrous as this, with the discovery of something moving between the free kingdoms and gathering information for the Enemy, it would be expected that the Elvenking would not stop until he was sure that he had done everything he should.
Watch shifts have already changed, blacksmiths have been informed about the creation of new weapons, fighters will be trained in different, new styles. But that is not all. It is necessary to find a way to stop the spy, to ensure that he is not inside Greenwood, to protect this realm from any harm.
To endure, no matter what.
And still, it was Thranduil who ended the meeting.
As soon as he was informed that the visitor had been taken to his room, Thranduil did not allow the discussions to continue. He gave his advisors no choice. Thranduil just got up and headed to his chambers, not caring about the frustrated grunts and whispered complaints he left behind. It is over, they can mourn it if they so desire.
Thranduil has more to do.
Centuries are mere blinks in an elven’s life. Hundreds of years are nothing more than brief moments for his kin. Still, the few hours that followed from the end of the meeting until banquet never took so long to pass. It had been so long since Thranduil became so aware of the passing of time. Aware of how slow it actually is.
The banquet hall had been built so that moonlight can penetrate the roots of the trees and take a seat at the table. Surrounded by depth, it functioned like and island in the middle of the ocean. All the residents of Elvenking’s Halls who were invited had already arrived, and the musicians played in one of the layers above so the sound can reach the whole hall. Everything was perfectly splendid.
But she has not arrived yet.
“Calm down, your grace”, muttered Tuor. The words were gentle, but the tone mocked Thranduil. “Do you fear that she has run away? It seems a very likely concern to me. A lady with good instincts would make that decision.”
Thranduil rolled his eyes. “I think it is better that you move to the end of the table. Distance makes you more bearable.”
With a dry laugh, Tuor slid his fingers across his glass. “Would you rather be alone with your thoughts?”
Thranduil downed his wine. For Tuor, it served as an answer.
When the doors opened, all the guests stood up. Thranduil should not have done that, a king does not need to get up to welcome someone, but he was still the first to get up.
And the first thing Thranduil saw were your eyes. They had not changed. Weeks passed, the world came between the two of you, and still you have not changed. There were violets in your eyes. They flourished. You flourished.
Thranduil will never forget the first time he saw you. Your dress wrinkled and muddy, lossy hair framed your face with freedom, the lightness of your smile illuminating the inn. 
He had never seen anyone so beautiful. Not in all the millennia of his life.
The silk dress adorned your body like running water. So smooth, so liquid. The fabric hung from thin straps, folded over your body, joined your skin as if they were one and the same. It was the color of emeralds, and the belts had diamonds sewn into it. The tail glided over the stairs as you descended it, shining like hundreds of stars.
Thranduil’s opinion remain the same.
With your hands hidden behind your back, you swallowed hard as you felt all the eyes burning into your skin. You blinked a few times, your hands sweating, and looked up at the spot you feared the most. You looked at Thranduil.
His robe was made of noble silver and black brocade, with silver piping and light gray embroidered vines. The burgundy coat was so different from anything you did ever seen him wear. So much stronger, more imposing. More natural.
Thranduil was at home. 
But you only noticed the difference on his presentation when you were trying to sleep, turning over in bed with your head preventing you from closing your eyes. Only alone in the middle of the night you stopped to think about that. But at the moment you saw him, with ocean blue eyes deep on your soul, all you did was smile.
And so you bowed.
Thranduil called your name, and his voice gave you goosebumps. You lifted your posture and when you looked at him again, a bros smile occupied Thranduil’ serious face.
“Welcome”, he took a deep breath. Thranduil pointed with an open hand to the armchair on his right. “Join me.”
You bit your tongue. You were afraid that if you started to smile, if you let the happiness of your soul take place on your face, your cheeks would tear. Your next steps were slow, your lugs unable to do anything more than that, but sure until you were next to Thranduil. You almost forgot how tall he was.
One of the servants pulled out the seat for you. Without looking away from him, you sat down. “Hi.”
Thranduil sat on the edge of his armchair, not even noticing how his posture had bent. Conversations resumed for the rest of the table, which meant the two of you had privacy in some way. “How was your travel?”
“Stunning”, your eyes shone. “Greenwood is so beautiful. I must have almost left the Elf-path a few times because I got distracted admiring it.”
Thranduil sighed. “We were not able to clear the path after yesterday’s storm. I am sorry you had to complete the path on horseback.”
“Do not be”, you bit your bottom lip. It felt strange talking to Thranduil when there were so many people around you. It felt wrong that your conversations were not private. That they were not yours. “I loved it. Truly.”
He let out a giggle. “Will your honesty always continue to amaze me?”
“I imagine so”, you replied. “At least I hope so.”
Silence has never been so profound. Thranduil’s eyes seemed to look deep into your soul, and perhaps they really could. It was strange and new, but it did not bother you. Not in any way.
You removed your hands from behind your back, revealing the book you were hiding. Holding it with both hands, you showed it to the Elvenking. “A gift.”
Thranduil would normally have accepted vehemently, but without caring about it. Anyone else would have received an empty thank you. But upon hearing your words, Thranduil felt his heart skip a beat. “You not have to.”
“Maybe”, you answered him, shooking the book lightly. “But I wanted to.”
Thranduil took the book, his fingers brushed against yours. He prolonged the contact for a second, an infinite second, and then he leaned back. He ran his thumb across the leather cover, reading the title in gold. His heart barely let his mind function.
“It is about an exiled soldier. I will not tell you too much about the story, but he is on a journey to prove his innocence and get revenge”, your toes curled under the table. Your happiness was not contained withing your body and was trying to escape wherever he could. “It is my favorite. And I thought maybe, I do not know, maybe you might like it. I did not know what to give a king, and I do not think there is anything you need, so maybe it is not-”
“It is perfect”, Thranduil reassured you. He was not lying. He would not lie to you. “Thank you, maenwë.”
You giggled. “It is been a long time since someone called me that.”
Thranduil remembered the terrible way people got used to not call you by your name. It made him burn with anger for a moment, but he chose to turn it into something more useful. “Was it difficult to say goodbye to Aerin? It is a shame that you had to make this journey alone.”
Your peace of mind was shaken. Lying to him was necessary. You may not have known Thranduil for a long time, but you do not think he would react well to what Aerin did. Or that he felt good letting you travel for so long without anyone to support you. Still, just because it was necessary does not mean it was right. “She is a very busy woman. If I had to wait for her, I would never come here.”
The banquet was served, and for a long time the number od employees walking around the room made it impossible for you both to talk. Your cup was served with wine, your plate had the greatest variety of food, and there were so many different foods that a thousand dinners could be given and there would still be leftovers. 
But as soon as the staff left and you started eating, you just waited for a hint that it was acceptable to talk during the mean in that part of the world. The food was magnificent, but that was not the reason why you are here.
“Were you able to rest after your arrival, vendë?” The man next to Thranduil asked. He had a dark, velvet skin, and kind eyes. You have a weak point for things that look delicate.
“This is Tuor, and old friend”, Thranduil introduced him. Looking at Tuor, he hoped the elve could understood to not put him on shame.
“Nice to meet you, Tuor”, you smiled. “And yes, I managed to rest. I did not realize I was so tired until I approached the bed.”
“If I am not mistaken”, Tuor began. “Those chambers have golden sheets, no? Was your sleep comfortable?”
“Yes, they are golden. Very comfortable. As well as beautiful.”
Tuor’s smile made Thranduil roll his eyes. “I am glad about that, maenwë.”
The rest of the night passed with the two of you eating and talking. More talking than eating. Something Tuor was part of the conversation, but mostly not. And you both talked about everything. 
You questioned Thranduil about his quest, if he had not been hurt. He would tell you stories of how he hunted the creatures, but only because he noticed that you would like to hear them. You are the kind of person who does not mind hearing disgusting stories over dinner.
And Thranduil asked you about your recovery, if you wanted something to change in your chambers, if you needed anything for that matter. Thranduil heard you talking about anything that you wanted to. He did it gadly.
Over time, the guests left. One by one, the hall shrank. Music continued to play throughout the night. But you did not noticed any of those things. You only paid attention to Thranduil, the raspberry pie stirred on your plate, and the glass of wine that was never emptied.
Thranduil accompanied you to your chambers. That made you feel relieved. If you needed to find your way alone there you would never be seen again. “Now I understand. Birdhouse.” You heard Thranduil sighing. “It is actually a good comparison.”
“You are too kind”, Thranduil stopped walking. You only knew it was the door for your chambers because of the elks carved into the wood. Not, a little bit affected by the wine, you touched it. If feels nice. “Good evening, maenwë.”
So you got the chance to say something you have spent weeks fantasizing about saying. You took a deep breath, jut to make sure it came out exactly how you imagined. With a smile, and a polite bow, you looked at him. “I see you tomorrow.”
And this time it was not a fantasy. It was just a fact.
[Seventh Chapter]
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AUTUMN THUNDERSTORM TAGLIST: @ferns-fics @notanalienindisguiseblink @rayrlupin @elvyshiarieko @graniairish @h0ly-fire @whore-of-many-hot-men
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moami · 4 months
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I don't know where I'll be in five years, or in ten. I thought I could predict life if I only tried hard enough; if I pushed into the tracks of my chosen path with all the force of my body, muscles tightening in anticipated soreness, to force a cart without wheels along the road I wanted to take. In my mind, I told myself that certainty was possible if I aligned the stars and synchronised the planets myself, whatever it took.
There's no road. None of us have a cart, either.
I cried about that for a long time. There's nothing I wanted more than knowing that what I did was surely correct. That with mathematical precision, my idea of a flawless outcome was achievable and I could chip it out of marble day by day, even if I saw nothing in the white stone.
In the end, we all just walk through the forest. The road we think we see is where light touches, or flowers grow, or water flows between the moss. Whatever draws you in becomes a path.
I don't know. That used to scare me. It still does, sometimes, when a new thing lands in the forest with a meteor-impact or a leaf crumbles from my oak tree.
There's no road. There's no cart. I don't know.
I just walk here and admire the sights.
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velvetcloxds · 2 years
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CONSUMED | C.C.
pairing: carlisle cullen x gn!reader
word count: 1.2k
warnings: none
summary: in the midst of it all carlisle allowed himself to be consumed by your love, just so happens that you were consumed by his as well
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You weren’t sure what you were expecting to find showing up at the Cullen house, led by instinct more so than logic but you’d showed up either way. Shoes abandoned at the door as you aimlessly wandered the empty rooms, one hand brushing senselessly over whatever you passed as the other gripped the throw blanket over your shoulders. Blankets were a rather new addition to the household’s interior, one placed perfectly in each room in case you found yourself needing one, but you needed only one- the one from Carlisle’s office couch, it was falling apart at the seems from your constant use of it, his scent becoming less prominent as time passed but it was still his and that alone was a sense of reckless comfort that you had grown obsessively accustomed to.
You had briefly considered going home instead of staying once you realized that the family had gone out hunting, knowing that it was a timely process especially if Carlisle thought he’d not have to rush to see you, not that it was a task- seeing you, being with you- quite the opposite. He’d find himself ever fascinated by you, fixated by every miniscule feature of your existence, as if through all his years wondering this earth, he’d never had the pleasure of meeting someone so mystifying -so consuming. He had no shame in admitting that you had entwined yourself into every thought in his mind, woven yourself so deeply into his decayed veins that he swore he could feel life returning to the ashes of his soul, could feel your love of ivy consume the stony structure of his heart.
You didn’t go home, despite logic returning for a moment after you saw the time, instead, you’d settled on the balcony that drifted from the confines of Carlisle’s room, sprayed out on one of the coupled chairs he’d bought to allow you some comfort while you watched the trees. You did exactly that, tangled legs covered by your blanket, your gaze almost intoxicated by the beauty of the oceans of green, dipped in starlight as if the picture was being created purely on your behalf, and sometimes, selfishly, you believed that it was- that all of this, all the gold from Carlisle’s life that overflowed so mercilessly into the cracks of your past- you believed he knew you were coming, knew what you’d need when you did.
You sensed him sooner than he thought you would, silent steps not silent enough as your lips melted into a smile, eyes still focused on the sky above as the steady beat of your heart faltered, running away from you purely at the idea of him. Carefully, thoughtlessly, you extended an arm from your little cocoon of makeshift warmth, smile settling deeper into your features when he released a brisk sigh, almost grateful for the sight of you.
His fingers moved by a will of their own, always did, following familiar paths as he took hold of your hand brushing his cold lips over your winter kissed knuckles, eyes sunken as he caressed a trail up your arm, settling a hand in your neck before briskly making himself home behind you, shamelessly breathing you in as you leaned back against his chest. He was drowning in you already, after barely a second, barely enough time to truly appreciate you being here, waiting for him with no idea when he’d return but you waited- as if you’d wait forever, and he knew you would, because so did he. And he'd do so again if he knew with certainty that this was what his torturous patience would earn him- if he knew that he’d find himself a man touched by grace he had no claim over- for grace, unaccustomed grace was the only way he could describe the feeling of your hands digging into his arms, begging him to consume you just as you consumed him and he’d be cruel, unrightfully cruel to deprive you of such a simple longing.
“I love you,” you breathed, and your heart hummed in agreement, creating a sort of melodious stream of wordless affection as he kissed the back of your head, your blood sang for him as he felt you melt into his hold, into his presence as if you knew he’d listen to your body more than he’d listen to your words because it had a way of speaking to him that you had no desire to understand, as long as he did.
“And I love you,” he replied, adjusting your blanket to keep you covered, knowing his body did little to aid your desire for warmth but you were determined in demanding his closeness, careless in your desire to have him cling to as much as he was willing to give, and he’d give everything if your happiness was the return. “You’re freezing,” he hummed, instinctively adjusting his shoulder to meet your head as it fell back to try and see him, pink lips forming a smile as you looked up at him.
“I don’t care,” you admitted stubbornly, taking in every bit of him as hungry eyes fled over his features, adoring hand lifting from his grasp to fall so effortlessly into his ice kissed hair, paying no mind to the fact that you were ruining the perfect style.
“I know you don’t,” he sighed, tilting his head to assist you in your loving gesture, “But I do,” he reprimanded, making you feel almost silly for knowing he’d say exactly that. “Let’s go inside, my love, get you warm.”
“No,” you smiled, eyes lighting up at the spark of joy the objection brought you, his features twisting with interest as he tried to understand what you were thinking, what you wanted. “I don’t want to move,” you insisted with a drunken stare, falling into him even further as he smirked, looking over to the trees before returning his gaze to you. “I just want to stay right here, just like this, with you, until morning.”
“Is that so?” you nodded, daring him to contradict your request by making a fuss over the cold, over the idea that you’d fall ill spending the night outside when you could be much more comfortable in his bed, though he would be so very wrong, for nothing could offer you as much comfort or warmth as him and his love. “Very well,” he concurred, kissing your forehead before allowing you to nuzzle your head into the crook of his neck, skin adorned with shivers as he tried to shield you from the breeze churning around you.
“I love you,” you repeated carefully, lips brushing over the hidden spot behind his ear, a mere hum in return being offered as Carlisle realized how quickly you’d fall asleep like this and he wasn’t wrong, for it was merely a minute that passed before he felt your breaths grow slower, body falling limp against his own and it took every bit of patience in him to move you to his bed, covering you with the layers of multiple duvets as he hovered over you, watching you in utter disbelief.
“And I love you,” he agreed, shaking his head to himself as he decided to steal a few more greedy moments with you like this, so peaceful, so content, so fleeting- but undoubtedly his.
tagging: @mirclealignr @saintlike78 @cupids-crystals @scarlet-prey @venomsvl @alexxavicry @a-lil-bit-nuts
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sunflwryu · 1 year
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warning: yandere, fem! mc, non-consensual kissing | not requested
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fool
“did you know, noona? i wanted to be loved.”
sunoo’s head lies on your lap, legs outstretched on the bed, eyes closed as he plays with your hands, sometimes delicately pressing his pillow soft lips to your fingertips with an unrivaled sincerity. your back leans against the bed’s headboard, and you’re looking down at his blissful face. you try to resist the urge to stop him, just staying as still as you could to not aggravate the boy.
“i was such a fool back then, chasing after anyone i saw that attracted me. i’d ask them out and get rejected by them, then cry my eyes out. i was so miserable...remember, noona?”
you remember. after all, he always came to your door, jumping into your arms as soon as you let him in, tears drenching your clothes as he sobbed. the pitiful sounds always broke your heart, knowing he deserved better, how he didn’t deserve to get his feelings trampled on. they would never let him down gently, and they always seemed to be the wrong type of people, always putting him down in their rejections when they could’ve just said “no” and left it at that.
you had patted his back, ruffled his hair, held him for hours on end, consoled him as best as you could, as gently as you could. you cheered him up by playing games with him, cooking his favorite foods for him, taking him out to his favorite places, like by the han river where the scenery was always beautiful and calming. but even with all your efforts, he went back to doing it all over again and again.
he had seemed to be so desperate, ignoring your warnings every time and heading into the fray once more without any breaks to completely heal his heart, so with every repeat of the cycle, he just grew more dejected and quickly lost the brightness in his eyes. it hurt you so badly to see him so lifeless, so consumed by sadness and low self-esteem that his head hung low and he cried for no reason out of nowhere. it was so bad that you forced him to move in with you because he just wouldn’t have been able to function without your care. you decided to quit your job to take care of him because you couldn’t just leave him by himself, opting for a remote option that allowed you to stay by his side the most.
what made you do so much for him?
it was the fact that he was your longtime neighbor, a boy three years your junior that grew up before your eyes. he stayed at your house when his parents were out, which made you grow to care for him, and then he was always by your side, with you guiding him and giving him advice, helping him with the homework for the classes you took already. he was always so adorable, never the troublemaker. you couldn't bear to see go down the wrong path, you couldn't bear to see him so broken, so you did all you could, and now he seems to have recovered from those rejections.
but at what cost?
“noona, you saved me at that time.” you see him open his eyes, meeting your gaze as a seemingly cute smile stretches across his lips, a sinister feeling growing in your stomach. he grabs your hand with both of his and presses it to his cheek, sighing in ecstasy as he relishes in your touch. “you always do, don’t you?”
you’re unable to control how your body trembles. “um...nunu...i-i-i’m feeling uncomfortable, can you let—”
you’re interrupted when his grip on your hand tightens suddenly and you gasp sharply. he gives you a smile, but it feels more like a warning than anything else. it wouldn’t be wise for you to do anything else that could upset him.
“one day, you told me something that made me realize what i’ve been missing out all this time,” he continues as if you didn’t say anything. “you told me that i didn’t have to look for love. at first, i didn’t know what you meant...but i know now.”
you don’t dare to say anything else as you watch him, eyes wide as he sits up suddenly, still clasping your hand in his. he turns and stares intensely into your eyes with an unwavering certainty, his gaze softening as you unconsciously shrink before it. “noona, you were just too shy to tell me that you loved me directly, right? i was just looking in the wrong place the whole time, even though you were giving me all your love right in front of me when i was like that.”
you want to shake your head, tell him he’s got the wrong idea. you only saw him like your little brother then, and even if you did like him, there’s no way you’d be able to continue doing so because of the situation he’s put you in. but at the same time, you don’t want to say yes and give him a dishonest answer either.
noticing your hesitation, he gets on his knees, one on either side of your legs as he cages you between his arms, making you gasp from the sudden proximity. “noona, i love you so much, more than i’ve loved anyone else. i know better now, so please don’t break my heart just because i didn’t see your love sooner,” he says softly, your faces mere centimeters apart. you look up at him with big fearful eyes as he towers over you, his hand reaching to caress your cheek before he lowers his lips to yours.
his kiss is so intense and deep and loving, almost energy-draining, and he ignores the press of your hands on his chest to push him away, easily taking hold of your wrists to force them down. when he pulls away so both of you can take a breather, he instantly dives back to you, practically attacking your face with a barrage of kisses. “i-love-you-noona!” sunoo exclaims in between a couple of them, “you-love-me-too-right?” his tone is filled with excitement and happiness, his eyes the crescent moons you had adored before but reeking of a mysterious craze, a deep-rooted madness that matches his triumphant grin at your lack of further resistance, which he takes as agreement.
your mind can’t help but wonder amidst his shower of affection, how has he gotten everything so, so wrong?
all you had meant was that there’s more to life than love, because he needed to take a rest from the heartbreak to heal. the things he’s passionate about, like eating delicious food and his other hobbies...love could wait until he was better, and maybe love would find him next time when he was confident in himself again. you had hoped he would realize that instead of...whatever his ideas were.
but you can see it now — he’s beyond help now, too obsessed with love to be rational, too delusional to let you go. even if it’s a defensive mechanism to protect his heart, it’s at the price of your freedom, and you can’t forgive him for that.
you can’t do anything to escape him thanks to the cuff on your ankle that chains you to the bedframe, can’t bring yourself to hurt the boy you took care of for so long. all you can do is let him do whatever he does, giving in to the delicate, gentle, sincere lips that leave tingles on your skin, letting yourself melt in his touch, even if your heart can’t forgive him.
“oh, noona, you’re just so lovely,” he sighs, finally stopping, directing you to lie down on the bed beside him before he pulls you, pressing you as close to his body as he could, his leg draping over both of yours. “i love you so much! please don't feel sad...i’ll make up for lost time, okay? i’m sorry for being a fool, noona.” his tone is sincere, contrasting the malicious delusions he allows to blind him from the objective truth.
you try to get through to him one last time, even if you know it’s hopeless. “sunoo, please, just listen to—”
he cuts you off once again, not giving you a chance to reject his delusions. “noona? tell me you love me, please. don’t break my heart, okay? it hurts to not hear you say it, i don’t want to be the only one saying it...don’t make me feel like this is one-sided again,” he’s crying, you can recognize that just from only hearing it, even if your face is buried into his chest.
you gulp back your words; there’s a threat underneath his and he’s using your sympathy to get what he wants, but even so, what else can you do but do as he wishes? you know he knows he’s your weakness at this point, and you only have yourself to blame for staying by his side for so long, for putting in your sincere efforts to care for him, for not giving up on him when any other person would.
curse that kindness of yours.
you have no choice but to give in to the inevitable and wrap your arms around him, accepting your fate to be trapped in his delusion forever, knowing one day the words you’ve said would be true. “sunoo, i love you.” you hate to say it, hate to give in, but these are the consequences of that kindness, and you've paid dearly for it.
he may have been a fool, but it looks like you’re the bigger fool here.
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note: i was reading over my drafts and found this one near the bottom lol. i decided to edit it some and release it for you guys cuz i've been away from posting any content for so long. this honestly could be gender-neutral if i didn't use the nickname "noona", but it seemed to fit here with sunoo's character and the situation if that makes sense? so i left it in. i haven't been able to write much since i've been busy (still). but hopefully you guys like this one! thank you for reading! ^_^
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enhypen masterlist | main masterlist | by @sunflwryu
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fruit-sy · 4 months
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[Gold and Gears endgame spoilers] GnG moment that interests me greatly 👀
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STELLE BBGIRL NOOOOOOOOOO ;O;
The aeon secrets occurance before this planted some hints of her being affected by this huge amount of data, but here, it fully addresses how it's seriously starting to harm her.
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Stephen, thank you for being considerate of her well-being!
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Gee, thanks Herta. Anyways, it seems Stelle's brain is certainly going through the wringer throughout this new update...
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Trailblaze mention!
Though, I have a hard time really trusting the text/dialogue from Mythus...
I wonder if Akivili was still alive at this time though....
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AHA JUMPSCARE HOLY SHIT HAHAHAHAH,
Genuinely screamed when they popped up on the screen, such a delightful surprise lol
Though, they only appeared briefly as a chuckle/maniacal laughter (reminds me of the laughter we heard in Phantylia's boss fight, hm?)
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(This is the finale ^)
So, it's not certain whether any Aeons influenced the wars that happened throughout this period, but what we do know is that we can detect the presence of Mythus, Aha, and HooH.
I have 2 train of thoughts:
1. Mythus being there was a natural part of its path, which is to obscure history. Additionally, since Erudition played such a major part in the history of this period, it made it all the more tempting for Mythus to dispel the certainty that Nous held with their calculations.
Next, the SU narration mentioned how Aha and Mythus laughed maniacally together. Either Aha was there because they were just an observer laughing at the wars, or they could be there because Aha had pushed certain things to happen, like getting the Masked Fools to interfere, and wanted to see the aftermath?
As I discussed in my last post, some Masked Fools have infiltrated De Wayne's rush for the Anti-Organic equation in the middle of the Borderstar Trade Wars/Anti-Organic war/Emperor's wars period (I dunno which is it exactly so I'm mentioning all the wars lol), and some have interacted with inorganic beings during the wars that took place in that period. Whether the Masked Fools were present because of Aha's orders or not is still not really clear.
2. Aha and Mythus laughing did not happen in reality, but in the simulation in the current moment (sorta like a 4th wall break). This is a bit more conspiratorial and crackpot, but here's why I had this train of thought:
The Dev Logs mentioned that "This one (Mythus) is as destructive to the Simulated Universe as the simulated Aha".
To preface this, I'm still a bit confused as to how Mythus obscures history. Is it more obscuring documents/records of history, or did it affect reality somehow? Since it seems to want to oppose Erudition whose calculations apply to reality. This leads me to believe that Mythus might have distorted the history that happened in the Simulated Universe.
Afterall, the Simulated Universe is the work of 4 genius society members who follow Erudition. All the more reason to mess with them, as simulated Aha would agree and laugh slong.
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junowritings · 1 month
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Hello! If you could do another matchup with Gale, since you mentioned that you nearly shipped me with him too, I'd really appreciate it! Thanks so much sweetie ^-^
I'm an autistic girl who also has adhd, asthma and chronic joint pain. I work as a librarian currently and am simultaneously very smart and scholarly and also full of energy. I'm definitely the sunshine person in a group, I love taking care of people and I'm very good at making other people laugh, I have a very dry witty sense of humor. I'm also super short, 4' 10"/147 cm, but I can get kinda insecure about it when dating. I have a very boyish style, long wavy auburn hair that floofs up around my head, glasses and I'm pale and covered in moles and freckles. I also love being out in nature, and if I can't be I bring nature to me, I have tons of houseplants.
Thank you so so much, have a great day!!
Sorry this took so long hun! Had to take a quick break from working through matchups but I'm hoping to get a couple more done so thanks so much for your patience on this~!
With that being said here's how I think things could go with...
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I know we talked about how Halsin would appreciate you, but we know who else would love you - Gale!
The lovestory here damn near writes itself, especially given your current occupation. I mean where better for Gale to stumble upon love than a place teeming with potentially valuable and intriguing knowledge? More than likely this is where the two of you first cross paths - perhaps he’s come in looking for information on whatever subjects got his head racing with a thousand and one questions that need answers; or maybe he’s searched high and low for a specific subject material and this is his next stop in the hopes of finding it. Whatever it is, the guy comes for books, and stays for you. Because gods if his first meeting with you doesn’t stop the wizard in his tracks.
Your sharp mind is absolutely the first thing that draws him to you. You match his conversation topics and questions with a certainty and enthusiasm that speaks highly of your quick wit. You’re eager to indulge him as well, a welcoming ear to pass the time as you work,and because you seem to actually enjoy listening to him talk. Perhaps he gets a little carried away talking your ear off, but you don’t mind do you? What really gets him in the end is the smile that you flash at him before he leaves. That smile of yours is blinding, like the sun itself crinkles in the corners of your eyes and the curve of your lips when it's directed at him.
Of course he finds excuses to come around after this, both before and after you’re together. If it’s before then it’s all under one pretense or another.  Oh, he just so happens to be out of interesting reading material! Perhaps you could recommend some to him? Or he needs some help finding a specific tome and the aisle that it’s located in (as though this man doesn’t know any library like the back of his hand by like the third visit - I mean this is Gale we’re talking about.) Even after you pair get together he’ll make a point to come and see you, but he’s far less subtle about wanting to do it just to see you - spending time with you on your breaks and departing with a kiss or two as an incentive to help you get through the rest of the work day. 
Okay this is a personal hc but I’m pretty sure that Gale often deals with joint and back pain himself, so he understands a little of what you’re experiencing. When the chronic pain becomes overwhelming he’ll insist on you resting, attempting to ease the aches in your joints as best as he can with the stuff he keeps on hand at home. Goes overboard with research into spells that could help to offer a modicum of relief for your pain, or find a potionmaker who can give you something to ease the severity of the discomfort that you’re in. Whatever it takes to take some of that pain away from you Gale will do it - he can’t help but worry that whatever he’s doing isn’t enough sometimes but the sheer care this man puts into your wellbeing means a lot.
You say you love making people laugh, but you know what Gale loves more? Hearing you laugh. He’ll always throw in your jokes with a couple of his own; granted most of them are groan-worthy and some downright terrible, but so long as they get a smile out of you he considers it a job well done. Just about melts at the sound of your laughter, as though your laugh alone is enough to make him fall all over again. Gets this love struck puppy look in his eyes drinking in the sight, but he will fluster if you ask him what he’s looking at.
Another guy who understands that while it’s a sweet thing that you enjoy caring for others, sometimes you’ve got to take some time to yourself. If Gale sees that you’re potentially overworking yourself he’ll just straight up guide you away from it, gently assuaging your protests or worries with assurances that whatever you have to finish will always be there once you return. That being said he is a huge hypocrite of losing time in his own work and needs to be reminded sometimes that he needs to take breaks, so hopefully you’ve got that down pat with the tactics you know to lure him away from what he’s doing. Also Gale strikes me as the kind of partner who would come prepared with the little things that come through in a pinch. Considering you wear glasses I just know that he’d carry some cleaning cloths for them around for you. You don’t always need the kinds of things he brings along, but the little proud ‘aha!’ he lets out when you do need them is just too cute. 
Another 👏freckle👏appreciator👏. He’ll try to be smooth, pointing out patterns on your skin that match constellations and patterns in the stars that he recognizes, offering to trace the shape of them along your freckles to show you the similarity. Really it’s an excuse to cuddle up next to you and bask in your warmth as his fingers glide over every freckle and mole that you’ll allow him to touch. Good luck if you’re ticklish; he'll try to feign innocence if you laugh or squirm when his hand slides over any ticklish parts, but there’s no way he can keep a straight face about it, trying to hide his smile in the crook of your shoulder.
Gale is very much a ‘bring the nature to him’ kind of partner, in the sense that he’s far more on board with bringing the aspects that you love from the outside back into a far more familiar environment. And who doesn’t love being able to nurture your love of nature in the comfort of you own home? He’s had one or two plants at his home that are mostly self-sustaining, but as time goes on and you begin to integrate yourself more and more with his life, this number will quickly multiply. Hanging plants become especially prevalent throughout the entirety of his home, both because they don’t run the risk of accidentally being knocked over, and because the life they breathe into the place makes his tower feel a lot homier and cozy. Will tell you now that Gale WILL have plant favorites - he will get invested in its care and will keep that thing on his favorite windowsill with adequate access to necessities. (you may have also caught him using his magic a couple of times to give the lil thing a boost when he thinks you’re not looking - a fitting use for a master of the weave I’m sure.)
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edupunkn00b · 6 months
Text
A Light in the Darkness
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Photo by Johanes Plenio via Unsplash. Color and tone edited.
Logan finds a light in the darkness when he needs it most. It leads to more than he ever thought possible.
WC: 2617 - Rated: G - [ AO3 ] - CW: fear, minor injury, blood mention, past major character death referenced, ghosts, happy ending Written for @houser-of-stories as part of the @tss-october-ghostwriters gift exchange for. I hope you enjoy it! I had fun writing it! -
“Keep running, freak!”
Taunting laughter filled Logan’s ears as he stumbled deeper into the dark forest. He tripped on a rock but kept his footing and continued to run. Heedless of the thorns that snagged his hair and his clothes, heedless of the cold. Heedless of the villages’ stories of the ghosts and spirits who guarded the woods.
The trees grew thicker here, wide long branches crowding out the nominal path. The prickly pines tore at his ragged sweater and threatened to snag his third-hand spectacles from his face. He stopped, yanking hard to free himself from the gnarled grip of one sharp-spined bough. The voices, his friends’ voices—former friends’ voices—grew louder and he gave one more hard pull on his sleeve. The yarn snapped and the branch took a bit of his skin in trade, but he surged forward.
Loose soles on his worn boots flapped. One caught on a tree root and he slammed down on one knee. Cold, flickering light from the mob’s lanterns shone through the trees. Logan watched their shadows loom over the thicket.
He’d lost the path.
Again scrambling upright, Logan limped forward and dove into the thick underbrush. He dodged to the left, then the right. The shadows grew shorter. The men drew closer.
A dark mass, a boulder or maybe a massive tree trunk, blocked his path. It swallowed up the dancing lantern light, a flat, empty darkness.
Whatever it was, Logan ran toward it.
Shouted swears as the mob hit the thicket echoed against the trees. “You made me rip my favorite pants, freak!” Someone shouted. The blacksmith. Perhaps the shopkeeper. Enraged, they all sounded the same.
Logan hoped to hide behind the mass, definitely now a boulder—he could just make out a bit of the grey treeline above it. As he drew nearer, though, he discovered it wasn’t merely a boulder, but a gap in the rocky foothills on either side of the forest. A cave.
Bears lived in these woods. Bats, too. Worse, if the stories were true.
Given what Logan knew about the villagers’ stories about him, though, he doubted the veracity of many of their stories.
A rock exploded against a tree only a dozen yards to his left.
“We see you!” a voice jeered as another rock struck the same tree. “Fucking tall ass freak!”
The chance of a bear beat the certainty of the mob, so Logan darted into the cave.
He slowed as soon as he passed the threshold, the utter darkness within making the forest feel brightly light. The tiniest glint of lantern light at the cave’s mouth was the sole evidence flames had ever existed. Shivering, he inched deeper into the cave, stepping toe-heel. Relief flooded his veins when the grating voices faded, the last glimmer of lamp light absorbed by the dark stillness of the dark stone. The cave was cold and dry, his own breathing roared in his ears.
He was alone. He was safe.
Fear-fueled strength waning, Logan sank down and crouched against a mostly smooth divot in the wall. Knees hugged to his chest, he worked to slow his breathing, ignoring the ache in his knee and shin for now.
For now, he just listened.
Save for several breathless moments when the men tromped past the entrance, the cave was dark and silent. Even that moment was brief and it appeared the mob gave up their pursuit.
Logan had no way of knowing how much time had passed, nor how easily sound from within the cave might spill out into the forest, but eventually the throb in his leg could no longer be ignored. Moving as slowly and quietly as he could, he stretched out his injured leg to assess the damage.
Blindly prodding, he found a gash below his kneecap and another above the edge of his boot. The rest appeared to be simple bruising. Nothing was broken, but he would need to clean the wounds so that infection wasn’t his next big problem.
Logan shivered, stifling a humorless laugh. Expulsion meant he’d never need to have that argument again. Not in this village, at least. He shifted again and a warm trickle down his leg told him his current big problem was blood loss.
Feeling around the cave floor turned up little more than a few dried leaves and pebbles. He raised a handful of the tiny dried bits to his nose. Yarrow. He stretched to gather more, then ripped his pant leg from ankle to knee. Wincing, he pressed as much of the dried yarrow over his wounds as he could stand. It wasn’t perfect, but was better than continuing to bleed.
He let his head fall back against the wall with a little thud and a sigh. Eyes squeezed shut, he shoved away the pain to consider his next steps.
It was possible the mob would simply wait him out at the edge of the forest, counting on hunger or the cold to drive him back to the village. Even if they hadn’t torched his home, return was not an option.
Under cover of darkness, this little cave was a sanctuary, but in the harsh dawn’s light, it could quickly become a cage. Though tempted to rest for a few hours before heading out in search of a more permanent safe space, Logan was self-aware enough to admit that, in this weakened state, there was little guarantee he’d actually wake before dawn. The fear of waking to the raucous voices of the mob, their lanterns in his face, shook him from his drowsiness, the imagined gleam of their torchlight snapping open his eyes.
The light, however, had not been imagined.
An arm’s reach away, just above eye level, floated a glimmery ball of light. It shone a soft blue, the color of the sky at mid-day. The color of his late father’s eyes.
The color of hope.
Logan stared at the light for a long moment before shaking himself. Was he dreaming? Pushing up to his feet, a groan escaped his lips at the jolt of pain in his leg. The light flickered, then rose, again just above his eyes.
Fuzzy memory brushed at his mind, an old story his father read to him before (and well after) he could read for himself. Mythical fables of tiny lights that would guide the hopeful, the virtuous, the hurt and the needy home.
“You know I can’t return to my home,” he said aloud to the little light. Sharp laughter edged his voice, shame at his own foolishness. He’d been homeless for far longer than when this village, too, turned on him for his strangeness. Alone in a cave and talking to an imagined ball of light, could he blame them?
Almost in response, the light shifted and a second light sprung to life a few feet from the first.
Instead of leading him toward the mouth of the cave and back out to the forest, it drew him deeper inside. Logan blinked at it. Did he really have anything to lose?
He stepped forward and the first light rushed forward, dancing around his head. “Alright, alright,” he chuckled, the bright blue light impossibly warm and cheery and filling him with… more optimism than he’d felt in a long, long, time. A third light sparked to life and he nodded. “It appears you have a plan,” he muttered. “Just—” he gasped when he stepped and put his full weight on his injured leg. “Just go slow,” he managed, one hand on the cave wall for support. “Please,” he added and the little light bobbed, like a nod, before drifting deeper into the cave.
Well after Logan had expected to hit the back of the cave, the lights continued, leapfrogging ahead each time he drew near enough to touch the closest light. One halting step at a time, he followed. When he stumbled, a fourth and fifth light sparked on either side of him, sharing their strange warmth.
“Thank you,” he murmured and let them guide him. Logan didn’t know how long they’d meandered through the cave and a high-pitched laugh bubbled up from the back of his throat at the image of himself limping in circles in the back of a dark cavern. Not long after that, the wall seemed to fall away, starlight and the thin pink light of dawn glowing beyond.
He managed one more step before falling forward. Logan was already wrapped in a dark blanket of unconsciousness when the lights caught him and laid him gently on the ground.
~
“Ohh, Jannie!” The familiar sing-song followed by an emerald glow at the edges of his vision was Janus’ only warning before Remus appeared in front of him. Shoulders shimmying, he levitated, one leg crossed over the other, a few inches above the wooden table where Janus prepared both meals and potions. The brilliant green of his eyes over-illuminated the grimoire in its stand as he stared expectantly at Janus. The apparition pouted when Janus didn’t look up. “It looks like Pattycake found another one! Out by the Gate.”
“Hm, really?” Janus graced him with a single eyebrow raise before returning to his work. It wouldn’t’ve been the first false alarm—or outright prank—the spirits in his charge had brought to him. He finished his current sentence before pulling the ink closer to the page.
“Yes, really!” Remus huffed and the lid to Janus’ inkwell popped into place, blocking his quill. “Pattycake says this one’s important, too.”
Full attention drawn, Janus laid down his quill and met Remus’ translucent eyes. “Important?” he murmured.
“Mm-hm… Important and alive, just like you.” Remus’ grin didn’t last. When he dissolved only to reappear next to the cottage door, his eyes were serious.  “But maybe not for long.”
“I’ll get my bag.”
~
By the time Janus had gathered his bag and his cloak and pulled the heavy wooden door shut behind him, Remus had already found Virgil. The pair were exchanging their typical morning greetings, cat’s claws buried in the thick bark of his oldest alderwood. His hiss cut short the moment Janus appeared and started down the path.
Virgil shifted and leapt from the branch to join him, eyes drawn to the medicine bag in his hand. “You’re not headed to the village, are you? Things are… tense down there.”
“That says a lot coming from our resident scaredy cat,” Remus laughed, not bothering to corporate.
“Tense?” Janus asked, ignoring the friendly barbs. "How so?”
Giving Remus nothing more than an eye roll in response, Virgil shrugged at the witch. “The usual ‘you’re not like us so you have to die bullsh—”
As though summoned by the curse, one of Patton’s will o’ the wisps blipped in front of him and Virgil nodded. “Sorry, Pat.”
Shaking his head at the predictable antics, he pointed down the path from his cottage. “Is he still down by the gate?”
In answer, the will o’ the wisp buzzed half-way down the path before pausing. Janus would need to wait until they were all back in the cottage before Patton could speak to him, but for now, the dual message was clear. 
“Yes, and hurry up!”
~
Logan dreamt. He was a child again, small enough to comfortably curl up in a nest of blankets in front of the hearth. He watched as his father stirred the big iron pot, metal ladle clanging gently against the sides. The pot bubbled, full of a broth or stew or perhaps even the dumpling soup he liked… whatever it was, it smelled wonderful.
The fire crackled gently in the fireplace, close enough to warm him, far enough that he had no fear of sparks. His father had always known just how close to let him settle in. The blankets were thick and soft, softer than in his memory, even. They smelled of sage and lavender and black pepper. A tiny black cat curled near his leg, purring gently. 
His father hummed as he cooked, an old lullaby he used to sing when Logan was feverish or had woken from a nightmare. He smiled as he dropped a handful of herbs into the simmering water, the fragrant smoke wafting through his shimmering blue hair.
Eyes wide, Logan sat up. “Papa?” Rough and cracking, his voice was low. The voice of a man, not that of a little boy. Hands shaking, he reached up and felt his own face. Two-days worth of stubble scratched his palms, and his fingers were rough and calloused. But he couldn’t deny the evidence of his other senses. “Papa, is that you?” 
“Logie…” His father turned and before Logan could blink, was at his side. He smiled, bright and bold, his front cuspid cracked, just like Logan remembered. His entire form was edged in a faint blue, the same shade as the lights Logan had seen in the cave, he held his hand. Wrapped firmly around his, his father’s hand was warm and tingly, sending the hair on his knuckles and his arm on end. “Of course it’s me, Logie,” he murmured in the voice Logan thought he’d never hear again.
“Papa,” Logan clung to him, eyes squeezed shut. He felt real. He felt warm and safe. Familiar broad shoulders, big, fleshy muscles, thick curls tickling Logan’s cheek.
He felt like home.
“Papa, the town, they—” Tears choked out the rest of his words and he cried hot, shameful tears. “I—̛I was alone. I couldn’t fend them off, I—”
“You’re safe, now, Logie,” his father whispered. “You’re not alone anymore. You’re safe here.”
“But you’re—” He couldn’t force the word past his tight throat. “I buried you, Papa,” he finally managed to whisper, squeezing the hand in his.
“I know. And you were so strong.” His father’s hand cupping his cheek, Logan melted against it, just like he would when he was nothing more than a child. “It’s really me, Logie. Just… just a little different now.”
“But…” It was impossible. His father had… “But how?”
His father’s eyes shifted and Logan turned to follow his gaze. A man, a plain, ordinary man stood in the corner. He wore a heavy black cloak, his face half-hidden in shadow. A crooked smile fought its way to the light, the flicker of the fireplace giving him an animated expression. “Logie, I’d like you to meet my friend, Janus.”
The man stepped forward, hand outstretched. He quickly flipped it over, palm up, but not before Logan caught sight of the runes tattooed across the back of his hand.
Before he could think better of questioning the hospitality of the man his father described as a friend, Logan blurted out, “You’re a witch?” 
“You got a problem with wiccans, Stretch?” A cloud of green formed inches from his face, molding before him into a wild pair of eyes above a manic grin.
“Smooth, Remus,” spat the cat by his shin and Logan’s eyes whipped back to it and stared.
“Y—you speak?”
The cat stretched and kneaded the floor, claws carefully tucked inside its paws. Logan blinked and a young man dressed head to toe in black wool suddenly sat hunched in the cat’s spot. “Of course I speak.” His smirk and the dark eyes flashing warmly heavy bangs belied the otherwise hard tone. “Don’t you?” 
“Oh, Kiddo…” His father squeezed his hand and nodded to the witch. They both watched as he filled three bowls with dumpling soup. Stunned, Logan leaned against his father and accepted the first bowl. 
“Eat up, Logan,” the witch murmured with another half smile as he passed a bowl to the man-cat, cat-man… Whatever it was. “We have a lot to explain.”
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cowteapot · 2 years
Text
Lend A Hand
Billy Hargrove x Reader
Summary: Struggling to survive in the upside down, a familiar face lends a hand
Warning: Violence, language
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The blood red sky loomed above as you walked down the path, stepping over fallen branches and debris “Steve?” You called out searching for the man you had just been with but when you turned he was gone “Eddie?” no sign of either of them.
Shit
You had continued walking in search of either boys, the fear had slowly bubbled inside when the trees above swayed and bustled, a high pitch screech sounded out through the sky, peering up you caught the sight of the Demobats who had began to circle. Not one but several bats had set their sights on you as you broke out into a full on sprint, the branches crunched beneath your feet, wind blowing through your hair as the bats screamed above you. Branches were dodged left and right, logs jumped over and holes in the ground nearly missed. You had to run and you knew it, no way were you going to allow yourself to die here alone, so you ran until your lungs screamed and limbs ached but the bats didn’t give up as they swooped down around you.
Finally a bat had caught you by the shoulder hoisting you for a second before dropping you back to the forest floor, it swooped back down for the kill but you kicked and fought, grabbing a rock you swung hitting it, throwing the rock down you tried to get back up but more had come. Their tails wrapping themselves along your arms and legs, you struggled against them legs kicking as you screamed, a long tail had found itself around you neck. Your screaming ceased as you choked and heaved, still pushing your arms and legs you tried but the world was darkening and In those moments you thought of your parents, your friends and your siblings. You thought of Billy. Since his death you’d always tried to imagine his fear but you’d never really gotten it until the moment when the bats were choking you and ripping into your flesh.
Suddenly the tail around your throat had loosened, dry dusty air filled your lungs. You searched to the side but were caught off guard when the blade of a machete came close to your left hand, the tail of the bat sputtered black ooze as it unwrapped itself from you arm. It screamed out but was cut off by a large black boot stomping on it. You looked up seeing a familiar face covered in blood, sweat and dirt “Billy?” You we’re sure you were dead, this was heaven, you were imagining your dead boyfriend as your savior. Those bats had won you knew that with a 100% certainty but the only thing was he looked different from the last time, his beard was thicker, hair was longer and his build was thicker, more muscular. He swung the machete and had taken down the last three that had wrapped around your other limbs before he squatted down “y/n hey can you sit up for me baby?” You just lay there, eyes glossed over staring at the man, delicate but calloused fingers came up to touch your neck, a stinging sensation running through your body causing you to lurch back with a hiss “oh hun. We gotta get you cleaned up. Take my hand y/n” a large dirty hand poked out as he stood, you took it carefully. Pain was all you could feel as you stood, it seethed through the open wounds on your chest, through your wrists and ankles and especially throughout your neck. Billy could sense this, he stepped forward scooping you up bridal style “I’ll take care of you”
He walked for a bit, your head placed on his chest lazily, lulling to the side with each step. Soon you both had stopped in-front of a rundown log cabin, he kicked the door open, walking towards a makeshift cot he placed you down. “Bill?” He sat next to you on the bed “I’m here. It’s okay” his hand rubbed circles on your knee while you cuddled into his side “you’re dead?” He bit his lip, eyebrows furrowed “I know. I’ll explain once you’re in better shape” he stood but you grabbed his wrist loosely “don’t go” you watched his expression for a moment but he let go leaving the room for a second but came back quickly with a little red first aid bag “you need to get these cleaned up hun”
Billy skillfully unwrapped gauze and antibacterial wipes before carefully wiping off the open wounds “remember when we learned first aid before the pool opened for the summer? You couldn’t do CPR for shit. Always to aggressive” he chuckled at this “yea and you’re gauze was always to loose, you would have let the patient bleed out in a matter of seconds” you smiled recalling the memory, that hot May morning when you all sat outside the life guard shed dressed in bright red swimsuits, Billy and you were to caught up in talking to listen to the lesson, the both of you just barely becoming life guards. He tightly wrapped the gauze around your center, sealing off the open gash in your abdomen “All done” he gave his work a seal of approval “good job Bill. 10/10 nursing skills” you coughed out, head resting back on the pillow gaining a sympathetic look from him.
He stood taking the kit back to wherever it was before, your body shifted to got comfortable, he reentered the room and sat against the edge of the bed, a calloused hand reach out to you own which you great fully took “y/n what are you doing here?” He sighed, your eyes closed as you remembered before “we found this door thing. It was in lovers lake. So a few of us came to check it out and Steve got us dragged in” “and where’s Steve?” “I don’t know.” You admitted, eyes brimming a bit as you feared for your friends, did they think you were dead? We’re they dead? “Why are you here?” You countered but he simply shrugged “I’m not sure.” you picked at his hand thinking for a moment “we thought you died. There’s a” you took a breath “a headstone for you. A grave and they did this memorial thing.” You couldn’t help the tears spilling. You could still vividly remember that moment back in Hawkins, in Starcourt, you could remember everything, the scream that left your throat raw for weeks. They way your body shook from the violent sobs and his blood on your hands. You still have the sweater you wore that night, stained with his blood, the sleeves a deep maroon now, you could feel the way your heart ripped in half that night. “You died Billy. I was there I watched it, I saw it all” he held onto you, lowering his body into a laying position “y/n if i had an answer for why I’m here right now I would give it to you. I would explain it over and over again if I had to. I don’t know why I’m here and I want you to know I’ve been searching for a way out. Back to you and max since the day I showed up here” your body was shaking now with sobs, fists clamped in his jacket lapels. You wanted to be angry with him, angry for begin a hero, angry for him leaving you and angry for him being taken away but you couldn’t. Billy held you until the tears dwindled and your eyes grew heavy, he held you as tight as he could for he feared you’d disappear if he’d let go and you held him the same. You both lay there through the night just wrapped in each other’s arms savoring the moment you both wished for for so long.
He was back. And he was here to stay.
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