#ITS ABOUT A GODLY BEING FEELING SEEN BY A MORTAL MAN WITH A HEART OF GOLD | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

yostresswritinggirl · 4 years

Text

Sophrosyne

This is a challenge fic for myself along the lines of "make a fic with not a single dialogue for the chattiest man in Teyvat" under the guidance of mama @archonistic's character analysis for Zhongles. Is this fanservice for her? Maybe...

Pairings -> Zhongles x Reader

Word Count -> 1635

Themes -> Established relationship, Zhongli does not SPEAK, Fluff?, Ambiguous Ending, Short Fic?

Series -> #Sojourner Specials (600 Followers Event)

Warnings -> Literally no dialogue whatsoever. If you can read a fic without dialogue, you are godly.

Despite a man verbose and lengthy in dialogue, Zhongli always have designated moments of silence in all his days. This comes during his awakening and before the moment he slumbers.

Anything in between that was filled with his chatters that seemingly never end, whether it be among the citizens in the harbour or as required in his work at Wangsheng Funeral Parlor as its acting consultant for adeptal rights.

Among scholars and among commonfolks, no one has seen the dignified man keep himself in silence. No one besides you.

When dawn settles in exactly 6:04 AM, his day would start as he creeps out of your shared bed the quietest he can so as not to disturb your rest. And while he succeeds in not being a nuisance, your carcadian rhythm has long been accustomed to waking up automatically in that hour.

Still, he smiles, and leans over to kiss your forehead good morning. If you wish him to stay for cuddles he will gladly indulge, but otherwise he leaves the room to prepare tea and the light breakfast available for company. Morning was sacred for many reasons, and he refuses to break it not just because of his own grogginess but also his adamant placement on making your mornings as pleasant as possible before you head to your own busy lives.

Some small chatter passes over tea and bread but it is otherwise as serene as it could be. And you bid farewell at the fork of the road where you have to part with your lover.

You remember a time when you were only acquainted and he was much more... verbal with his words, you find yourself falling in love with just his voice as he seems to never stop conversing with you about everything he knows and he can say. From the statue to the simplest flower, all day when you are in his presence he would indulge you with a literature that's his voice until you had to go.

And then one day, he stops. Zhongli's voice already became white noise to you (in a good way) that the change was so abrupt and striking. The silence passes a minute, then an hour, and it permeates until you finally break it yourself and he will then converse in normal lengths.

It took you a while to recognize but his expressions had then turned lax, as if content, of finally ending his speeches.

The day after that day of silence was the very moment where your life together started, and the continued era of silence also lingers. But it never bothered you. The comfort between you two never once gave rise to discomfort amidst the voiceless, and the memory of his voice had always stayed in your mind.

When you look at a silk flower, Zhongli's voice would echo in your mind about its use. When you watch the harbour, his speech would once again come about its busy schedule, how workers gather at 4 AM and how the streets would be bustling during 5 PM. On the dot. It was weird at first until you laughed about the idea that your lover had marked you with his lustrous voice.

Ever since then it was you who mostly have to coax the words out of him, and while this is effective, you are also the reason he reverts back into muteness.

This is apparent not just for you but for all the people that surrounds you and Zhongli.

The most common occurrence or example of this was also reflective of the first time you had noticed. Likewise, you usually never see him in his usual demeanor at work simply because you were running your own tasks throughout the day. However this day was different as you had less things to work on and you were nearing the Parlor before finishing the last of your tasks.

While it isn't busy, it was still bustling with the workers moving to and fro rooms you had never seen used before, and you slightly wave at them to inform the sudden intrusion. You were no frequent customer (who would be at a funeral parlor...) but by the way they immediately understood your person, your lover was probably the cause of their awareness.

Hu Tao's toothy grin was not of mischief and you appreciate her time to take you to his office herself. And the moment Zhongli was made aware of your presence, his parted lips didn't move anymore, eyes trailed at you before he mouths a greeting. Seeing the customer in front of him who dons confusion at the sudden silence you quickly apologized for the distraction, but Zhongli only shakes his head with a ghost of a smile, suddenly making his way over to you.

You fluster not only at stealing his attention but his whole presence, about to scold him for leaving his duty when his strong and built arms suddenly engulfs you in a firm yet not suffocating hug. He presses a kiss to your forehead, humming to himself as you felt his muscles ease as you reciprocate the hug.

This continues until the customer awkwardly breaks your pink world with a cough.

He was like a magnet, attracted to your pole the moment you come into view, and he follows the pull with no resistance at all! It would have been bad for the business, but Hu Tao his boss, simply laughs it off in amusement.

You never once thought of asking Zhongli about it, and if it ever pass your mind, you'd easily push the idea away. If he was comfortable in the silence as you were then there's no need to question it. He was already forced to run his mouth at work and with other people, giving him the chance of resting his throat and beautiful mind would probably be the best decision. What you didn't know was that if you were to ask, your lover would easily just give the answer in a straightforward yet confusing manner.

The day of his silence was the day of epiphany for the once-Geo archon. Epiphany of many different things.

He has spoken all that he can say about the world that is Liyue for him, and he regarded this with a slight widening of his eyes as you both looked over Dihua Marsh by Wangshu Inn's balcony. How long has he known you, how long had he started speaking in your presence about the knowledge he wanted to inform? Zhongli ended up pouring his heart and soul to you about his craft that it had been drained immediately.

And when you two stood in silence, he had found it without a speck of tension, only silent pleasantries with no need for words. Time seem to slow and he finally felt himself take a step back and enjoy this moment in life. An opportunity he didn't realize he needed.

Without the need and want to fill the silence, Zhongli takes notice of the warmth you radiate, of the natural scent you emit together with the perfume you wore daily, it was flowery but not strong enough to be pungent. He takes notice of a lot more things, and he realized he had been admiring such presence he didn't know had such an impact on him until he finally looked better.

Without the need for words, he had realized it is time to organize his thoughts and being. He is a retired man, not the God that lived for 6000 years, not the one who was only there to see mortals come and go, replaced with another. It was time to slow down.

And that is why here he demonstrates another moment of silence, when the day is about to come to its end. Tonight was simply indulging in between his arms.

Warm and strong you always felt very secured when you settle within the confines of his comfort. And behind you Zhongli muses to himself in a distraction you had yet to know.

During the evening is where you unpack all the troubles and tales of the afternoon on both sides, leaving them all aside so you can rest with nothing left to say, all worries left on the table as you focus on letting the consciousness fade away in the company of each other.

You've never thought you can sleep this easy, peacefully, until you started living under the same roof. And he may not say it, but your analysis of Zhongli tells you he feels all the same.

A kiss on the back of your head urges your eyes to close and as if he knows of the action, he pulls you closer under the blanket up against his chest. Your lover is especially cuddly tonight and you had no energy to fight, to tease.

You stay silent as he indulges himself in the scent of your shampoo, a tired giggle leaving your lips everytime he nuzzles your hair deeper to catch a stronger whiff. In silence too you feel the desperation of a man who seeks the comfort of the simplest things, of a person that only wish to focus on the good things in life before facing the harsh reality once again.

If you were to speak your thoughts, Zhongli would applaud you for the accuracy. But you do not. You stay silent, and to slumber you slip into.

Soon after he follows suit, latching on to the bits of warmth you give.

When he wakes, silence would once again invade his day. But it would be silence followed by the coldness that finally comes after the years he had taken to indulge in your warmth. Zhongli is glad to have taken his time to slow down and stay quiet and take in the mortality of humans.

Haha, you died again.

@moaa @dandelion-dreams @witchsungie @zelos-simp @legionqueensav @snackgod @rxsalinee @cala-ran @wind-wheel

#genshin impact #genshin impact x reader #zhongli x reader #exile.flower #sojourner specials #gender neutral #bruhh #shorter than I expected it to be #genshin impact zhongli

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whereflowersbloom · 4 years

Text

Sealed Fate

The Western horizon was on fire: hot pink turned into mauve, wild orange into gold, the bright colours fading into paleness, then darkness. It was the day they whisper their vows before the gods, both Raven and Damian believed that love was not what stood at the foundation of their pledge, at least not the kind that fate had in store for them. No, that’s what they want to believe, what truly mattered most at this point was peace, peace through political marriage rather than an overwhelming affection. Peace. Damian, the youngest son of King Bruce and the noblest of all of Gotham’s princes, living or dead. As King Bruce was only left with Damian and Richard. Raven, a demigod, sired by Trigon the Terrible and mortal Arella.

The fragile truce between Gotham and Azarath balanced on the tip of a blade, depending on this union of convenience. Kon-El was wearing a scowl that would freeze unquenchable fire from the House of Hades. She could feel Trigon’s dark eyes burning into her face, the harsh, singeing heat of a desert behind it. She wanted to run, but she was also afraid of him giving chase. What was the point anyway. Before coming to Gotham, she knew how to fly, wings spread wide, flying away, her shoulders have borne heavy burdens, heavy burdens of solid stone. Oh she prayed to fly away from them, and roam the freedom of the sky, but her father had cut off both her wings and left her rooted to the ground. There would no longe mountain's peaks with the promise of wondrous views to keep. It all came to an end the day her father told she had been promised to Damian: Prince of Gotham, the great. Gotham the glorious. Gotham the magnificent. She should be honored, but her thoughts and feelings on the matter were inconsequential as the advice of a woman in wartime.

A week later she found herself at her wedding feast. Wearing a silver attire, a veil, a lilies and myrtle garland, and a golden headband. The Brothers and sisters her husband had in plenty, raised to be warriors they fought during war to lose their short lives. Helena and Timotheos had fallen. No body of Jason had been found after the last battle with Crete. She only met her husband her wedding day. He was reserved but polite and not overly perfumed, and when her eyes fell on him she thought of Narcissus. Narcissus, who had been unable to pull away from his own reflection in the pond, enchanted by his own beauty until death claimed him. Although the way her tutor had prattled on and on about Damian’s innumerable virtues, Raven had not expected him to be as radiant as a god. The sun-kissed skin stretched to wrap around muscles built from years of practicing complex military skills, broad shoulders and powerful arms, displaying strength and virility akin to a noble lion, movements of disconcerting grace for one so large. His facial features had a frank and honest quality to them, bright and deep-set eyes, as green as spring leaves with the touch of Persephone, a Greek nose, full lips. He was a God in beauty and stature. Reluctantly, tore her gaze from his beautiful face and focused on her new family. They have been so impeccably polite, specially Richard. ‘Welcome my good sister. We are all so blessed to have you.’ Blessed. Blessed child she had been called once long ago.

Do you feel blessed, my dear sister?” Richard asked, passing a golden wine cup into her hand. His wide smile meant no harm nor his words. As she grew up Raven was left to learn how to smile and laugh prettily at compliments that made her skin crawl, feign the innocence of any maiden her age.

Blinking several times, she looked back at him and smiled weakly. “Of course, brother.”

Richard was all dancing, light and lean seduction, dark myrrh hair and flushed red lips, rosy cheeks and aristocratic arched eyebrows, adorning himself in a blue and gold tunic. Her new brother appeared to be content to sit in the shadow of his younger brother and watch him gleam in all his glory. Cassandra did not speak with her, she was the only calm in the midst of a storm of abrupt adjustment. She tried to pay no heed to the murmurs of gossiping women at the feast, eyes green with envy as she had married the godlike prince. Foreign seductress. Demon spawn.

Bruce and Olivier discussed vehemently about warfare and politics with Kal-El and Kon-El. Diana and Artemis were carrying an excited conversation about traveling and Shiera’s recent journey in Egypt. She caught no sight of Trigon to her relief.

Trigon. Other gods might have roared their pleasure at the skills and intelligence of their offspring, praised their achievements for all to hear whilst filling themselves to the brim with nectar. Not Trigon, who wanted to sire no child but found himself infatuated with Arella, bedding her out of enjoyment.

If she were godly, truly a deity, in all of its ways with fantastical unlimited power, then one could not help but ask: Would Trigon praise her then? Did he not want her because she bled red as earthlings. As I’d guessing what she was thinking her husband finally spoke.

“For a deity to come down on solid ground isn’t seen many times. For her to wed a mortal willingly is even more ambiguous.” Damian exhaled softly, standing right next to her. His voice was so deep, so soothing and alluring as she had imagined.

“I am no deity. I am the undesired offspring of the god of death.” She said in a choked voice. Not sure if he was mocking the nature of her position. Green eyes alight with amusement.

“You are anything but undesired, wife.” Damian responded, voice low in his throat, and private; a voice she knew in her bones he meant only for her. His face reflected an earnest expression filled with so much pure-hearted sincerity that it stole Raven’s breath away

No man had ever spoken of passion or desire to Raven, and all that she knew of such words she had overheard her tutors speak, or learned from old songs; the glory of being called beautiful in tones, not of cool reason but burning emotion flooded her entirely. She was desired. Biting her lip, her face flushed, and shining starlight hair drooping over her face as if that would somehow hide how obviously close to tears she was.

Damian smiled serenely and Raven felt like he’d seen the sun. Resembling the sun and light, Apollo.

He had a gentleness to him that is completely foreign to her experience, not seen at first sight, discerning the heavy emotions in his eyes. Raven did not know before that it was possible for men to be gentle. One glance and she thought of him kissing her mouth, just as he thought of tasting her skin. Uncertainty lies in her desire for the reciprocal dedication to infallible ardour.

Air. Her lungs were in need of air.

~~~

She went to the garden of Thetis, to sit among the flowers and watch the moon-washed stars. The goddess of flowers must have visited bringing brightness and beauty wherever she stepped, as she appreciated a patch of narcissus, foxgloves, hyacinth, and delphinium displaying tightly clustered flowers upon tall stalks in varied blues and purples, in full bloom, surrounded by the thick chorus of crickets chirping all around. With all thoughts of threats and protecting her homeland, Raven found herself strangely empty. It wasn’t hollowness: it was the emptiness of shock, of disbelief and misunderstandings when everything you’d imagined was pulled out from underneath you and she was suddenly living in a reality where someone admired her? Yearn for her touch rather than fear her.

“Raven.” Kon-El sighed her name as he walked closer to her, fabric softly trailing on the grass and it made Raven tremble. His ocean eyes saddened, darkened, burning through her and reducing anything to ash, to nothingness. There were things that must be said but she couldn’t bring herself to apologize.

“When Morpheus came to me in my dreams. I did not dare look upon his godly figure. But I heard his voice like a thunder from grand Zeus. He promised your hand would be mine to hold.” The words had come bitter and aching with such profound loss that it made her throat tighten with his emotion.

“I have a husband now, Kon.” She mumbled quietly, using his infancy name, casting her gaze downwards. “They were nothing but hollow words, grains of sand carried upon the wind of Aeolus.” His disapproval at the mention of the word husband was obvious.

Attempting to reason with him to not make a claim of a right that was no longer his. She could sense his anger, regret, sorrow. Envy . Why do you look at me in such way? Why do you look at me as if you pity me? Why do you look at me with eyes filled with sorrow and hatred, all at once? Where did her sweet and naughty Kon go? She wished to voice those questions.

With clenched fists, he nodded. “It’s for the gods to decide as our fate lies in their hands.” Kon-El spoke solemnly with unshakable conviction. “You have a husband tonight, but take heed as The Fates could cut his thread of life coming morrow.” He bowed down and left without saying no more.

No. No. He would not dare. Notion spit forth from such a place of hate, fear and confusion like its like a venom small at first or great yet if allowed it to take over fully.

The night was calm, witness of the conversation between two old friends, the stifling hot of the day finally giving way to a coolness which smelled like an approaching storm. Yes, she could feel it, there was a storming coming with the unforgiving and celestial ire of Zeus.

~~~

The feast passed quickly, with laughter and high spirits carrying it along. However, Raven could never quite relax after hearing Kon-El’s threatening words. And there was the bedding ceremony to proceed, not in public. Thank to Merciful Elea.

Torchlight played on Raven’s face as she motioned with her hands like a sorceress, then the royal peplos she wore dropped off her like the skin off a snake and she emerged. Goddess Nyx in human form, her breasts round and ripe and firm, her belly flat and sculpted thighs, the tangle of dark hair between her legs an invitation and a challenge. She was bare before him. So very delicate, so vulnerable, so unlike anything he’d ever laid eyes upon. It intrigued him, that vulnerability, laid bare for him to see under the soft glow of the torches. The daughter of the God of death.

What a curious creature she was. Gifted with the beauty of Aphrodite, the mysterious eyes of Nyx, holding the stars of Orion in them. They had been in his mind on and off at the feast, wrapped up in the hazy, sweetly intoxicating lull of inebriation.

As he looked down then back up her body, to her timid eyes, no challenge in them, though her lips still twisted in a semblance of indecision. Doubt. It was obvious that while she was not truly frightened of him, nonetheless the shadow of doubt and tension was present. Damian swallowed hard. He had avoided looking at her more than necessary during the ceremony but he gave into temptation as Aphrodite whispered in his ear all the ways he could have her. He did not like Gods nor their offspring. The Gods enjoyed tricking mortals for their own merriment. But, she was his wife and there was no escaping now. He cursed quietly for his mortality.

Raven dug her pearly teeth into the fleshy hills of her bottom lip, reminding herself to stay in control, taking a deep breath, fists clenched at her side as she took a brave step forward. “My prince.”

“Damian.” He corrected immediately as he straightened up for a fraction of a second before he bent his head and allowed his lips to graze Raven’s ear. “My name is Damian.”

With uncommon courage, she reached for the clasp holding his jade tunic under his chin. The heavy cloth sighed down around their feet. With a delicate feather-like touch, Raven traced the longest scar on his bronze body that went from Damian’s left shoulder down to his right hip. His breath hitched at the sudden invasion, but relaxed into her touch, his eyes fluttering shut for a moment. No one had ever dare touch him intimately without his permission.

She could see hidden amongst the bright hues an emerald green clouding over with Damian’s lust. Their lips melded together as if they were made for each other and moved in sync as Damian threaded her fingers into Damian’s thick raven locks. Damian gently nipped her lower lip, and when she gasped heavily against his, he slid his tongue inside the warm cavern of her mouth to meet hers.

Her mind temporarily muddled with an electrical charge coursing through her veins making it hard for her to focus on any one part of her anatomy than her mouth against his. Everything tingles, starting at the back of her neck and rushing down, an uncomfortable yet exhilarating heat razing through her nerves only to whirlpool in her lower belly, churning, before continuing down all the way to her toes. He tasted like pure ambrosia.

As they continued kissing, his lips become eager, desperate, feverish. She’s never been kissed like this before. Kon-El had kissed her cheeks out of mischief a few times when they were children. Innocent love. Never with parted lips and tongue, with a hunger that would scare her had the same kind of hunger not driven her own greedy mouth to kiss and suck and nip. And yet she knew with the wisdom of Athena, that even if she’d kissed a hundred men a thousand times, nothing would ever compare to this.

Peppering her neck with kisses and listening to her gasp his name, he carried her slowly to the crimson bed where he laid her down. Dragging his teeth gently downwards, along the expanse of her sweet, alabaster skin. There all shyness was replaced with audacity and devotion. Not being able to resist the urge, he bit into her neck, at her pulse point where he could feel her unsteady heartbeat against his tongue as he laved at it.

Hands that were calloused and large and warm and so very gentle for a warrior, as they find their way roaming her natural curves. They skimmed over her thigh and hip, caress the soft skin of her waist, ghost over the swell of her breasts. His mouth, hot and wet, closed around her breast and sucks lightly, thus making her suck in a sharp breath. Expert tongue swelling around her pink nipple. What in the name of Hera he was doing to her? She wanted more. More. More.

Raven cannot utter a single word. Her mouth too dry, her mind too drunk on arousal, to form any coherent phrase. Calling his name between small whimpers showing her heightened ecstacy. This must be Elysium in all its glory. It was such a sweet torture.

Damian thought to himself she tasted like earth, starlight, like flowers blooming in the night. What was he thinking? She was his wife, no more. Daughter of his nemesis. His young heart hammering inside of his chest, the memory of his mother’s voice haunting him as she vanished with the wind.

Something flared in Damian then, flared up in his chest and his belly like a flaming arrow shot high to signal the start of a nighttime raid, and he seized her hips and pushed up inside her. Raven groaned softly in pain. Fear sent her stomach and chest quaking, her breaths coming short and fast, mind flooded with words of maidens about the pain of maidenhead being taken. At first, his strokes were slow, but his eyes do not look upon her face. The flower garland tumbled off her head and was crushed under their grappling bodies, the scent of a summer noon briefly filling the night.

She opened her legs wider and wrapped them around Damian following her instincts. Her velvet heat encased him, and he had to restrain himself from descending into madness at the pleasure. He felt like he was drowning in the Aliakmonas, the river swollen with melted snow. Raven’s round breasts goaded him, her hands caressed him tenderly, her ripeness clenched around him. As he started thrusting faster, harder, pumping in and out of her at an erratic pace. Damian drops his forehead to her shoulder, an animal like grunt in her ear, and she heard herself moan along with him. She even shifted her hips so that he hits her just right, his pubic bone rubbing against a sensitive spot his hand had touched.

He could tell she was close by the way her walls were fluttering around him, and he brought one of his hands down between them to rub circles onto her bundle of nerves. Damian also angled his hips enough to reach for the deep spot in the center of women that made them cry with satisfaction with each push.

Something inside her tightens, inside her belly where a babe will grow with the blessings of the gods, and then another wave of pleasure washed over her, pulling such a loud moan from her it should leave her ashamed, but she doesn’t care. Sweat beds clouding her vision, and the ragged breath of her husband hot against her moonlight skin, salty with sweat.

He reached climax and came harder than he had ever. His thrusts slowed, hips stilling as he emptied himself, thick, hot, white ropes of his seed filling her up to the hilt. Letting out a weary sigh he removed his body atop hers, carefully. It was done. Fulfilled his duty he told himself. A clear lie. Damian considered cupping her cheek and kissing her temple but he couldn’t do it. No. His features hardened as he turned away from her.

“I will show you respect as my wife. I will please you in all the ways a husband and lover can. But do not ask me to love you, for that is not an oath I can honor.” His voice came out hoarser and raspier than ever in the darkness, before rolling to the other of the bed preparing to fall in the arms of Morpheus.

There was an emptiness inside of her soul, her center she couldn’t describe. Waiting to be full again. Aching. Pulsing. Whirling.

“But I thought…” Raven began, a lump forming in her throat, not wanting to admit that she had hoped he could ever find love with her. Perhaps fondness. What about the gentleness he had shown her? The words died with the quietude of the royal chamber as if Harpocrates had made himself present.

Perhaps coming morrow with the grace of Apollo, he would bring Damian’s gentleness back to her. All she can do is hope and pray tonight. A lone tear slipped down her face as she closed her eyes.

Notes: Hello it’s me again with a new AU. Sorry not sorry. Had to get it out of my system 😂😂😂😂🙈🙈🙈🙈

Do not panic please. This is the first chapter and there will be Damirae fluff I promise. Happy Damirae moments and probably more smut than in other stories 👀👀

Hope you all enjoy. @ravenfan1242 @tweepunkgrl @chromium7sky @deepbreadlover @timid-soot-sprite @kallura-juniblade @shewhowillnotbenamed1 @andthendk @alerialblu

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petalshields · 3 years

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[ ELLIOT KNIGHT, HE/HIM, CIS MAN ] — [ SABER WINSLOWE ] is a child of [ EPIONE ] with the power of [ PAIN SUPPRESSION + PATHOKINESIS ] . they were born in [ 1993 ] and have been in nemean lion since [ 2008 ] . with the change, they [ GRADUATED FROM ] the [ MEDICAL ] role which makes sense since they’re usually [ COUNSELING + READING + TRYING TO FEEL SOMETHING ] . if you’d like to meet them try the [ SUN ] building . — garnet / she/her / kst / 18+ / @nlupdates

it’s garnet ya’ll already know the vibes. this long as hell but bear with me.

Saber’s pinterest is here!

BIOGRAPHY!

saber did not grow up knowing the people he called his Ma and Pa were not his biological parents. Ma and Pa lived in a red barn hidden acres deep in rural New Haven, Kentucky and they prayed every night for a child that they couldn’t seem to conceive. one night, a woman appeared with her three-year-old son in tow, explaining that his father died in a tragic accident. the winslowes welcomed him inside and the woman disappeared into thin air. it wasn’t until the boy, who told them his name was saber, was fed, bathed, and asleep that they questioned where the woman came from. unbeknownst to them, it was the goddess of recovery epione, who just lost one of her mortal lovers and decided that saber could be the answer to the winslowe couple’s prayers.

starting he was around nine-years-old, saber bounced from foster home to foster home. he was taken from his doting parents who weren’t at all neglectful nor inattentive, but a concerned doctor reported the frequency of his hospital visits and the severity of his injuries. as a rambunctious lad who was always too curious, saber collected injuries the way other kids his age might’ve collected bugs. it did not help that he appeared to have an exceedingly high pain tolerance, and he wasn’t aware that a part of his body was wounded until someone pointed it out or he fell forward because his leg was broken.

while his parents were being investigated, at around the age of twelve, saber was placed in a particularly volatile household. its chaos could be felt the moment that he stepped inside. nonetheless, saber always had the gift of being a calming presence to those around him. even at his young age, he sympathized with others and always helped those in need, but he noticed that emotions could change quickly if he touched them. he could place two fingers on someone’s pulse and the heart of a mourning person would no longer thud under his fingertips, their sorrow drying on their cheeks. saber had the same effect on his aggressive foster family, who he would touch on the shoulder, elbow, or hand to calm them down. they’d always shake him off, but their mood visibly shifted, and saber would watch them walk away from the battle they’d almost started. he couldn’t relate to such extreme displays of emotion — while he wasn’t without empathy, he did not feel deeply for himself.

emotions became a puzzle that he wanted to solve, and saber poured over books about the topic to better understand his foster family. it was his obsession and he began to absorb random facts about how the brain functioned. this led saber into reading more, curiosity becoming less physical and tactile and more intellectual, using a flashlight under his covers at night to consume more knowledge.

when saber was thirteen, going on fourteen in a few days, he was claimed by epione sending a garter snake into his box-sized front lawn. saber, who was outside at the time, bent down to examine the creature, and when he looked up, there was a woman that he’d never seen before standing with his social worker. His social worker introduced him to his mother and explained that he’d be going with them to a new place, giving him time to pack his suitcase with his things. he did as he was told, waving goodbye to his foster family. they grumbled about having one less mouth to feed.

in the car, saber couldn’t stop looking at his mother, who was so familiar yet a stranger, and it was then that his social worker told him about his godly heritage. that because he’d been claimed by his mother, he was in danger, so he had to go somewhere he could be kept safe. that somewhere was nemean lion.

saber was a little awkward at first, but he found his strides, excelling in his training. he stayed in the standard track for the first year before switching to medical. many thought that he could have been a hero because of his bravery and his inability to feel pain, but he chose to follow his passion in trying to crack the brain. he received basic medical training, but by the time he was eighteen, he remained on campus for a little bit longer to study psychology.

at nemean lion, saber became close with another boy, another demigod. saber never had a crush before and he didn’t feel the clichés. the affinity that he felt towards the other boy was chosen rather than felt — he chose to speak with him for hours, he chose to go on dates with him, and he chose to kiss him back. in addition, saber also vowed to never change the other boy’s emotions with his ability — it was nice to have something that flourished organically without manipulation on his part.

homophobia tw: saber and his boyfriend married immediately after graduation and he brought his new husband back to meet Ma and Pa. the aging couple was set in their ways, and though they tried, they did not approve of saber marrying someone so quickly. when saber asked them if they would have approved if he did the same with a woman, he found their answer in their hesitance. his husband stormed out and saber filed behind him. “why didn’t you say anything?” his husband spat at him. saber didn’t say anything in response, understanding the reason for the reproach, that perhaps he should have said something, but he also logically understood that their bigotry wasn’t his problem. he touched his husband’s cheek, absorbing the pain and anger, something he swore he’d never do to his husband. but he did, and for the remainder of their time together, he didn’t forgive himself for it.

saber and his husband had a few honeymoon years before the marriage unraveled, but saber wasn’t aware of the unraveling. he came home one night to find his husband packing his bags, claiming that he no longer felt that spark between them and he hadn’t for a while now. saber simply responded that he didn’t notice, withholding that he felt the distance between them increase but couldn’t do anything about it, didn’t know what to do. he didn’t want to use his power to fabricate contentment, even love, where there was little to none. his husband said “you never notice, because you don’t know how to care.” it was an act of caring, however, that saber let him go find whatever would make him happy. shortly after, the divorce papers were filed, and his last name legally changed back to winslowe.

saber owns his own private practice, and he services both humans and demigods. the whole point of his character is that he’s telling other people how to get their lives together while his own is a hot mess, and he can be a bit of a hypocrite. but it be like that!

WANTED CONNECTIONS!

CLIENTS: everybody needs a lil therapy

EX-HUBBY: i’ll probably put a wanted connection in for this, but if you think that your muse could have been married to Saber....i just think we could have that conversation.

SOCRATIC CIRCLE: ezra stokes and sila demir zerhouni are part of this little group, where they get together and discuss intellectual stuff over coffee. if you think your muse would be interested in joining them, let me know!

MENTEES: the mind’s just as important as the body, and i imagine saber has a lot of insight that’s useful for other medical track kids. however it doesn’t have to be restricted to just the med kids, let him be ur dad friend.

CONFIDANT: someone who saber can hit up and be like “so do you feel nothing or is it just me” u feel me??

OLD FRIENDS/LIKE SIBLINGS: saber tries to be a good person and he really values his connections, so he maintains his friendships. he definitely got his shit rocked by his husband suddenly divorcing him so he really wants to figure out how to have relationships that mean something to other people.

ANYTHING: hit my line babes

#not this length #it took me three months to write this lKJDSLAF #nlintro #saber

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singtotheskiies · 4 years

Text

the best medicine // thor x reader

request: Hello can you write a thor x reader fluff and he is just sick but thinks he is dying since he is a god and thinks gods don’t get sick and the r takes care of him all day 🙃😍

summary: poor thor has never contracted a human sickness in his life—good thing you’re here to help him through it.

words: 1632

warnings: it’s a sickfic, but there’s no v*miting or anything like that; just sore throats n coughs (it’s basically all fluff man)

a/n: PLEASE keep requesting, guys!!! this is so fun for me to do during quarantine, and i’ve got a lot of pent-up affection from being home all the time!! keep ‘em comin:)))

✖✖✖

Most people wake up naturally on the weekends, or are coaxed into consciousness by a phone alarm. Most people spend their weekend mornings at their leisure, preparing coffee and lounging in their pajamas until they decide to change clothes and move on with their day.

Most people, however, are not dating the god of thunder. And it is times like this when you envy those people.

It’s 7:00 in the morning, and you should be asleep in your warm little bed in your warm little house, not worrying about the Iron Man suit banging on your window and shouting your name at the top of its lungs.

You start and scramble clumsily out of bed, tumbling to open the window. “Tony, is that you? Jesus, I’m gonna get so many noise complaints! What the hell is going on? Couldn’t it have wai—“

“Mornin’, sunshine,” Stark quips, his armor drawing back to reveal his smirking and altogether-too-awake face. “Sorry to wake you, but Sparky wants you at the tower. Like, now.”

“Thor—is he—okay? What’s wrong, Tony, oh my god—“ you ramble, frightened.

“Shhh, keep it down—you have neighbors, you know.”

“Oh, I am extremely aware of that fact, and I’m sure every single one of them would love to know why you, sir, are causing a ruckus at seven o’clock in the morning,” you hiss.

“Don’t sweat it, sweetheart. Let’s just go now so you won’t have to deal with it.”

“Tony, I just want to know what’s going on.”

“You’ll see. Just—buckle up, ‘kay?”

“I am nOT RIDING WITH YOU!” you scream.

Unfortunately, the man in the billion-dollar suit thinks otherwise.

✖✖✖

Tony deposits you less than gracefully on the kitchen floor of the Avengers complex, your heartbeat even more of a mess than your hair. “We are never,” you say between heavy, erratic breaths, “ever doing that that again.”

“Aw, c’mon, sweetheart, it was fun. Just admit it,” Tony grins.

“Absolutely not,” you say, trying to maintain some sense of dignity by frantically carding your hands through your now-knotted hair. You manage to subdue it somewhat.

“I’ll take you to good ol’ General Electric,” Tony says, walking with you to the nearest elevator and holding it open for you. “He’s—well, he thinks he’s dying.”

“Is he?” you cry, worried.

“‘Course not. He’s just sick. I don’t think he’s ever caught anything from Earth before, so naturally he thinks every breath is his last. He won’t let any of the medical staff touch him, though—says he only wants you.”

“Poor baby,” you murmur. Your heart goes out to your boyfriend, but you can’t help but feel a small burst of pride at his insistence upon seeing you. He’ll recover quickly with his godly immune system, you hope. You’ll just have to comfort him until it blows over.

“Well, off you go, now,” Tony says, making shooing motions as the elevator dings to a stop. “Don’t break anything.”

“You say that like you didn’t just crack all my bones,” you quip, but the doors have already closed in front of a smirking Tony. Turning around, you face the door in front of you. Knocking softly, you say “Thor, honey? It’s me.”

You hear a vague murmur from inside and take that as your cue to push the door open as quietly as you can. Stepping inside, you close it behind you and turn to see your boyfriend.

The curtains have been drawn tight save for a small slit that falls across the bedsheets, illuminating the large form huddled in them. The lines of his body are indistinct until he groans and lifts up his head. “My love,” he says. “My heart rejoices at the sight of you. You look as st—“ His raspy voice (which you would definitely find sexy in other circumstances) is cut off by a dry cough. You wince at the sound and hurry over to his bed, sitting gingerly on the edge so as not to disturb him.

“What feels bad?” you ask, wrinkling your brow.

“Everything. My head, my body, my throat—even my eyes ache,” Thor replies, sniffling. “Do not get too close—I do not wish for you to also die.”

“Thor, honey, you’re not going to die,” you say, trying your hardest to bite back a smile. “You’re just sick—if I got a bug like this, it would only take me a few days to get over it. With you being a god, I doubt you’ll be out for more than two.”

“So it is a bug—an insect—which has given me this illness?” Thor asks. “I have not seen such a creature anywhere near me.”

“No, silly. Bug is just another word for sickness,” you say, finally abandoning your attempt at a straight face.

“I see,” Thor says, looking very much like he does not. “It is a relief to know that my end is not near—although it does feel like that is so.”

“I’m right here to help you,” you say, taking your hand and brushing his slightly damp hair away from his forehead. You let your fingers linger for a moment, scratching his scalp softly. He hums quietly at the sensation, and you brush the back of your hand along his stubbled cheek. Now smiling, he captures your hand in his and kisses it lovingly, looking into your eyes as he does so. Your heart melts—even when sick, he’s a perfect gentleman.

“I love y—“ he tries to choke out, coughing too hard by the end of the sentence to finish it.

“Aw, let’s get you something for that, huh?” you say, rubbing his arm soothingly. “I’ll make you some soup and bring you some medicine.”

“Please do not leave me, my love,” he manages, and you smile down at him.

“I’ll only be gone a few minutes. Just rest until then.” Kissing his forehead, you exit the room softly, leaving Thor with a lovesick grin as he watches you go.

✖✖✖

“I’m back,” you say as you close the door with your foot. A bowl of soup, a glass of water, and a container of cold medicine are balanced on a tray in your hands. You make your way over to the bedside table and place your load on it, smiling when you see that Thor has fallen asleep in the few minutes you were gone. “Wake up, love,” you say gently, brushing the pad of your thumb over his cheek. His eyelashes flutter open, and he hums hoarsely but happily as he realizes you are there.

“Hello again,” he says, his words overtaken again with a coughing fit.

“Let’s get you sat up so you can eat a little bit,” you say. Your hands help prop his back against his pillow. His normally strong body feels weak and tired under your touch.

“What have you brought me?” he asks, eyeing the soup with curiosity.

“Chicken noodle soup. People on Earth eat this when they’re sick. It’s supposed to have healing properties,” you explain.

“So you have made pasta out of a bird?” Thor cocks his head to the side and you laugh.

“No, silly. There’s chunks of meat in the soup that are separate from the noodles. I also added carrots and celery to give you a little something more. Now open up and tell me how you like it.” Thor reluctantly opens his mouth and you feed him a spoonful, watching as his face lights up with delight after tasting it.

“This is amazing, my love!” he cries with as much surprise as his throat can muster. “I never knew Earth could contain soup this wonderful!”

“Now you’re just flattering me,” you grin.

“Indeed I am. Normally, I would find it insulting to be fed by a mortal, but I must confess that you are, as always, the exception.”

“Such a flirt,” you chide him, smacking his arm gently with the spoon. “Now eat the rest—not so fast, though, or you’ll have trouble keeping it down.”

Thor finishes the soup without incident, but balks when it comes to the cold medicine. “It smells like—false fruit and chemicals,” he says, wrinkling his nose.

“That’s basically what it is,” you concede, “but it’ll help you. I promise.”

Thor still doesn’t seem convinced.

“Please?” you say, resorting to puppy dog eyes. “For me? So the horror of seeing you sick doesn’t weigh on my soul any longer than it has to?”

“Fine,” he says, caving. “But only for my lady.”

“Good boy,” you say, patting his head as he grimaces the medicine down.

“Now that I have done as you have asked, may I request something of you, now?” he asks, turning your puppy dog eyes back on you.

“Of course. What is it?”

“Lay with me?” he asks, spreading his arms wide. He looks so helpless and needy that you immediately curl up next to him, kissing his jaw lightly. His arms wrap around you, and you move your cool hands to his forehead and then to cup his face.

“My love?” he whispers. “I know that I am ill, but I cannot resist. Please, may I kiss you?” Heart full, you answer by tilting your head and meeting his lips. They are soft as ever as they rest against yours, barely moving—a ghost of a kiss made gentle by the pure love you both feel. When you finally pull apart, you rest your forehead on his, feeling him sigh in utter comfort. You press your lips to his cheek before snuggling into his arms.

When you wake up to both a perfectly healthy Thor and a killer headache, you can’t help but almost welcome the latter. The look in his eyes tells you that he’s about to take even better care of you than you did of him.

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softjeon · 5 years

Note

minjoon + greek gods au ;))

— GENRE; fluff, smut | — PAIRING; Hades!Namjoon x Aphrodite!Jimin | — DISCLAIMER; mentioning of cheating, jealousy, nsfw-content | — Wordcount; 3,4k | — written with @cassiavioletblue

The demon yawned silently and stretched, before getting back into a more comfortable position. He could hear footsteps nearing and held his breath, keeping his eyes closed as the noise drew nearer. The moment the heavy door opened, the loyal servant snapped his eyes open, bowing deeply in front of his god. He had opened his mouth to report, when laughter reached his ears and the demon listened up. The noises coming from outside were getting louder and the demon furrowed his brows when the splashing sound of water made him look up, even though his god hadn’t told him to relax, yet.

Being responsible for a well-working underworld could be quite the hassle sometimes. Some newcomers found their new place immediately, fitting right in as if they had always been there but others… not so much. His district administrators had to report to him regularly so that he was in the picture about everything and it was an important way to stay in touch. Yet, he sometimes wished he could just skip it. It was exhausting to listen to all the complaints some of the souls had, some couldn’t forget their mortal lives and some were just regular troublemakers. After a hard day of governing all he wanted to do was sitting a little in the fire and letting the flames lick at his spine relaxingly, but he hadn’t fed his dogs yet, so he would do that first and then go make that fire afterwards.

Surprisingly Cerberus was nowhere in the hallway and Namjoon furrowed his brows. The hellhound normally liked to stay close and so Namjoon was used to being greeted by him after he had been locked away in the great hall listening to ministers for hours. Apparently something else must have caught his loyal dogs’ attention.

The servant noticed the food in the god’s hands, calling out for the dog once. Twice. A bark made him turn towards where the noise was coming from, looking outside the window. What he saw made him gasp and quickly retreat, when Namjoon stood behind him pushing him away to see.

Down by the lake, Jimin was scooping up some water to let it drip over his shoulder as he was knee deep and with his back to his favorite place: the underworld’s castle. Namjoon’s home.

Jimin giggled, as he looked over his shoulder, knowing about his charm too well and how it affected the men around, feeling their stares on his back as they tingled down his spine. The demons around had joined him in his little bath quickly, laughing and kissing each other all around him just with a wave of his hand.

There was another thing he was pretty sure of, that his little show was making Namjoon angry and jealous. Something Jimin loved to lure out from the god of the underworld too much. It was like playing with fire, but he couldn’t keep his hands off him. If he’d burn in his hold, then he’d go up in flames with a smile on his lips. It was not like Hephaestus didn’t know about his lover. He was a coward though, not even trying to say something, too afraid of death. And Jimin loved Namjoon even more for it.

“Ah, that’s why…”

Cerberus adored Jimin. One would think that it was easy for the god of love to wrap all the creatures around his little finger and it was true with people and demons - and sometimes the other gods. Hellhounds weren’t that simply however and so the friendship that had blossomed between Jimin and the dogs had nothing to do with his godly powers but everything with heartfelt affection on both sides. And just as he had thought, there he was, all three mouths open with his pink patchy tongues hanging out while Cerberus tried to catch the droplets of water that were splashing around from Jimin’s games.

Jimin’s eyes flickered up from where he knew Namjoon was watching him behind the window. “Come,” He mouthed, waving the god down with the sweetest of smiles as he yelped, when the dog jumped into the water, wanting to keep Jimin’s attention. “Cerberus!” Jimin laughed and reached out for the dogs, burying his hands in the thick fur. “Get your master, will you? I want him to join the fun.” He gave each head a little kiss.

He didn’t needed to be dragged by his pet, his feet moved all on their own towards Jimin as it was what he wanted to do anyways. If they had been alone he would have been in the water already but he hated it to have his servants watch them. And even more did he hate it when they watched Jimin. Of course he didn’t say anything because he knew that Jimin was well aware of his opinion about the younger bathing shamelessly in front of his demons. And Jimin did it despite his knowledge - or maybe even because of it. The god of love liked to tease, to taunt and seduce, to allure and play. And he took great pleasure in making Namjoon jealous.

Jimin couldn’t keep the smile of his face, when Cerberus had ran towards the palace, barking and jipping at his owner excitedly as if he was trying to tell him something. The god of love took his robe from the side, where he had discarded it earlier, not even phased by the stares of the demon and the lust that filled the atmosphere. His eyes were on Namjoon, and him only. “What took you so long?”

“Oh, you know, work. Might be difficult to understand for someone who deems letting others love him his job but it can get quite stressful here in the real world.” His words had no bite and his eyes twinkled. They always talked like this with his demons around, the soft and gentle words weren’t meant for their ears.

Only for Jimin’s.

“Oh, such a hard working man.” Jimin pursed his lips into a pout as he walked up to the god with slow steps and only then pulled his robe over his head to cover up his body. “You should be resting, leaving others to do the work tonight.” The young god, blinked up at him, licking over his lips slowly, before cocking up an eyebrow. “It seems as if you’re servants don’t have much to do.”

“They do, actually.” He sent his demons a sharp glance. “But somehow they always manage to find distraction when it happens to be near. If I had the choice I’d stare at you too instead of doing my work. Especially with you all naked and wet. You should be careful.”

“Who wouldn’t?” His voice sounded breathy as he leaned in, getting on his tiptoes to whisper into his ear. “But I’m feeling a little cold now…I think I need something more comfortable, any ideas?”

Namjoon bowed his head slightly in an invitation for Jimin to follow him. “The hellfires will warm you up. And they can be quite comfortable as well. Depending on how you found your way to them of course.” Hell and its fires was more what people made of it and less the horrible place that everyone made it out to be. It was his home and he liked it.

Jimin followed the god of the underworld suit, letting his power unravel behind him as the demons shook themselves out of their daydreams. His focus was on someone else now. “Sounds perfect,” Jimin hushed out, as he got up the stairs, pulling up his robe enough so he wouldn’t trip.

The moment the heavy door of Namjoon’s private room’s fell close behind them, leaving everything else shut outside, Jimin caught up to him while his hand wrapped around his arm as he leaned onto the strong god. “I missed you.”

“You should have come sooner then…” Namjoon had turned, hands immediately sliding under the robe that was only halfway tied and opened under his touch. His words didn’t give away how much he had missed Jimin as well but his kiss did, hungry and demanding, while he pressed Jimin’s body against his own.

“You know he doesn’t let me.” Jimin whispered, when Namjoon kissed down his jawline, as he melted against his embrace. Jimin never spoke his husband’s name in front of the god, not wanting to anger him further - but it was no secret either.

“My love,” Jimin whispered, cupping Namjoon’s face to be able to kiss him again and again. This is where he belonged. Right next to him; but unfortunately, fate wasn’t on their side, nor had it been their decision. How could the god of love be with the one ruling the underworld. “Don’t let me go, please.”

“I’m not planning to.” Was the answer, a horse dirty promise with an underlying softness and affection that only someone who knew him would see. “Maybe I should treat you like your husband and keep you from getting out of my sight.”

Jimin let Namjoon manhandle him easily, walking backwards until he hit the bedframe and climbed onto it. “Maybe you should.” His smile was soft, something that spoke of so much love that he had for him.

Once it was only the taste of the forbidden, that had brought Jimin down into the underworld to see for himself what the god was made of. Many spoke of him, some said he was the most powerful man they’d ever met, others told him about his anger but all of them were in awe about his handsomeness. Of course, he wasn’t beautiful like Jimin, but he was close and when the young god had seen the true beauty that had been his heart he knew he had lost his heart to him. He shouldn’t have come down here back then. He had absolutely no business to be with the death, but for Namjoon he came back over and over again.

“You wouldn’t have to chain me to keep me in your sight,” Jimin whispered, when the god hovered over him, “I’m already bound to you.”

Namjoon’s face turned into an uncomfortable expression. “Don’t tell me he chained you up!” He couldn’t have found out about the two of them or it wouldn’t be Jimin at his home, flirting with him but the rage of another god wreaking havoc in his world. However Jimin wasn’t exactly the most faithful person and he had cheated on his husband before so maybe the other simply suspected something. Even though he was just as guilty of adultery as Jimin. One of the rare things the two gods had left in common.

Jimin soothed over Namjoon’s cheeks, shaking his head. “Don’t worry, my love.” The god of love, leaned back down, closing his eyes as he felt up the soft sheets around him. Namjoon’s bed had always been his favorite place to be, especially naked. “You should only worry about my body and how you keep me warm. I’m still a little cold.” He giggled as his hand wandered up to Namjoon’s robe, before undoing it slowly.

“You see, that’s not something I need to worry about.” It was nice to see how comfortable Jimin felt around him as he stretched himself out on his bed, no self consciousness or insecurity left in his eyes. Jimin trusted him - and the other way round of course. Namjoon gave his lover a promising smile before summoning a few small little flames of hellfire that danced around his fingertips, warming them up before he touched Jimin’s skin. Technically he could hurt Jimin with it if he really tried but a handful of flames would bring nothing but warmth to the others skin.

Jimin gasped, arching his back into Namjoon’s touch as he closed his eyes letting him do with him as he pleased. He loved the warmth that always surrounded Namjoon. When Namjoon’s hand moved down towards his hips, Jimin turned around on his stomach, wiggling his bottom in front of him cutely. “Mhm, still cold…”

Namjoon took this as an invitation to plaster his body all over the younger to ‘warm him up’. He loved to feel the god’s soft skin against his own. Too many gods felt invincible and so confident in their beauty and powers that they didn’t take care of themselves but Jimin was excelling in it: his skin was as soft as silk and as rosy as blossom petals.

Jimin loved to feel the weight on him, the soft kisses that were placed against his skin. Namjoon knew how to treat him right. Jimin had never noticed how easily others took his beauty for granted, using him and his body for entirely selfish reasons. He’d learned it, the first night he spend in the underworld, when Namjoon didn’t push himself onto him. It had startled him so much, that he had wanted to kill the god for not appreciating him. Luckily Namjoon was faster, his hand keeping a tight hold onto his wrist and Jimin realized the truth. Namjoon showed him respect.

“This is much better, but there’s one thing…” Jimin looked over his shoulder, moving his hips gently, so Namjoon could feel it right at his groin. “You’re still wearing too many layers..:”

“If it makes you move like this it’s worth it…” Namjoon’s hand came to rest against the other’s hip, guiding him gently against himself. Jimin was pure grace, every arch of his spine was a delight to watch, every shudder of his breath music to Namjoon’s ears. He loved to observe and sometimes, when his willpower felt really strong he liked to watch Jimin touch himself. Jimin could be so eager, so willing and seeing him unravel beautifully in his bed by his own hand was a sight he would never forget. He didn’t have that patience tonight, he needed to feel him. Therefore he gave in to Jimin’s request without teasing or stalling, getting rid of his clothes as effortlessly as possible. He didn’t have the finesse to strip as mouthwateringly and promising as Jimin sometimes did for him, showing just enough of what he had to offer that it had want burning through him until he snapped and pulled the younger in, taking him in whatever half-dressed state he was.

Jimin had turned to watch Namjoon, biting down onto his lip as his eyes took in all of Namjoon’s beauty. He loved seeing the god like this, unprotected and so soft – just for him. If his servants only knew how soft their master could be. It was a secret Jimin would keep forever.

The god of love opened up his legs to invite Namjoon back in between as he kneeled in front of him and Jimin wrapped his arms around his waist. Leaving a trail of kisses along his stomach, he let his hands soothe over the god’s strong thighs and up his bottom. Namjoon tipped his chin up, pushing his legs a little further apart as he kept his gaze on him. “I wish I was mortal,” Jimin whispered, leaning his head into his touch, placing a kiss against the palm of his hand. “So, I could die and you could spare my soul to forever be with you.”

“Would you really like that? Being entirely mine to do with as I pleased?” He ended with a little wink. As much as they teased each other for having caught feelings they both knew that there was something more between them then the usual short-lived lust and passion that would die out after a few decades. This went deeper but they were too scared to really address it or felt too vulnerable baring their hearts for the other entirely. And even if they wanted there was still so much unsaid, so many things they couldn’t change. Jimin divorcing his husband was not an option because Hephaestus simply wouldn’t take it well - and a temper tantrum from a god could mean destroyed worlds. In the beginning Namjoon had thought that his hellfire was what had drawn Jimin in as it might remind him of his husband (Hephaestus was the god of fire after all) but then he had learned that it was rather the opposite: Jimin loved him because he wasn’t like the man he had to marry.

“If I could keep my beauty,” Jimin giggled, stealing a kiss from Namjoon, “Then yes, I wouldn’t care if I get your love in return.” He let his hands wander down the god’s strong arms, feeling him up with a soft touch. Jimin has never said it out loud, but the last time he had parted from him, his mind still hazy from their night that they have spend together, Jimin thought that he might love Namjoon. Maybe almost as much as he loved himself. With a strong grip, Jimin pulled the god flush against his body, heart beating fast as he could feel the heat between them. “You could give me a taste of what it would feel like,” He whispered against his lips, “To be entirely yours.”

“Nothing could take your beauty away, not even mortality or death,” Stated Namjoon confidently, claiming Jimin’s lips for another kiss. Those cheeky little things Jimin placed onto his lips always left him hungry for more and he had a suspicion that Jimin totally knew it. With a little chuckle he leaned forward. This time it was on him to tease, “Who says you deserve it, my pretty lover?”

Jimin pouted cutely, whining as he blinked up at the god. “Because I do. I’m beautiful, I’m giving myself over to you. Don’t you want me? Everyone wants me.” He stated, looking away as if he was offended. “I could ask one of your demons then. I bet they’d love to show me.” Jimin placed a kiss on Namjoon’s neck, sucking on the sweet spot, but not enough to leave a bruise.

Namjoon’s eyes darkened visible as he looked at Jimin’s naked form, eyeing the pout on his lips that was too cute not to be taken advantage of and kissed. “They know better than to do anything with you. The desire might be there but I hope their will to live is stronger than their wish to get a piece of you. It would be a short lived pleasure.”

Jimin sighed as he let himself fall onto his back, spreading his legs a little further to give Namjoon the perfect view. “Then who else will show me? If you don’t think I deserve it…” His hands wandered down his stomach, as he let out a soft moan, closing his eyes, the mere thought of pleasuring himself making him shudder.

Namjoon placed his hands on Jimin’s knees, a gentle weight that opened them up a little further even though the young god was obscenely exposed already. He just loved to admire Jimin’s flexibility. It came in handy when they were having quick, rough sex in between their busy time schedules when he could bend Jimin over any surface they found. But like this, in his bedroom was his favourite. When he could take his time.

“Do it if you dare.”

Jimin bit his lip, a shiver running down his spine as he stilled in his movements. His eyes were focused on the god above him, licking his lips in sweet anticipation, before diving deeper. But Jimin stood no chance, not that he wanted to. Namjoon’s hands clasped onto his wrists and lifted his arms over his head, holding them down onto the mattress. The god’s mouth covered his in a slow, passionate kiss that made Jimin moan and arche against his body.

Namjoon’s touch that inflamed his mind and his own desperate need to have him closer. He yearned to be with him all night, making love to his warm body. Jimin wanted every part of him to touch his own. He wanted him to know how much he loved him. It just felt so right to love him and be loved by him. “Take me,” Jimin whispered, “I’m yours.” His heart swelled with the love he couldn’t deny any longer, when Namjoon finally gave in to Jimin’s please, burning up from the reckless desire that overwhelmed him entirely.

He sank into him, slow and deep and swallowed Jimin’s sweet, sweet moan with his kiss. Not even hellfire could make him feel as warm as holding Jimin could and so he indulged himself in his guilty pleasure, hoping that their flame would continue to burn for a long time.

#minjoon #bangtanxm #bangtanarmynet #kwritersworldnet #minjoonrecs #jimin #namjoon #drabbles #flowerwrites06 #ask #imma say it now :D ofc this is not correct mythology #but only half #because fiction and creativity ya know #before the greek mythology police is coming

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dailyaudiobible · 4 years

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01/15/2021 DAB Transcript

Genesis 31:17-32:12, Matthew 10:24-11:6, Psalms 13:1-6, Proverbs 3:16-18

Today is the 15th day of January welcome to the Daily Audio Bible I am Brian it is great to be here with you today. I guess we’re pretty much as close to the center of the month as we can get. So, we can pat ourselves a little bit on the back and say we meet halfway through the first month of the year. And takes about that long to kind of settle into the rhythm. But we’ve got a good rhythm going and this rhythm is actually a strong rhythm, it will carry us all the way through the year, day by day step-by-step. And, so, let's…let's take the next step forward. We’ve been working our way through the book of Genesis, which is what we will continue to until we finish the book of Genesis. We’re reading from the New Living Translation this week. Genesis chapter 31 verse 17 through 32 verse 12. And by way of reminder, we are working through the story of Jacob right now. And Jacob has a desire to go back to his homeland after all of the years of serving his uncle Laban and he's got a family now, quite a family, in fact, a very important family, one of the most important families if not the most important family in the world. This family is going to grow up to be the children of Israel and the tribes of Israel and their story permeates most of the Bible. So, let’s take the next step beginning in Genesis 31.

Commentary:

Okay. So, this I guess is as good of a day as any to talk about something pretty important for us, expectations. We can think that we don't have expectations about our spiritual life are our physical lives or our relationships or whatever but even if we think that we don't have expectations we actually do because if we didn't then we would have completely let go and any set of circumstances that presented themselves would be okay. It would be just part of the flow of things and we would just keep moving. We didn't expect anything to happen. But when our expectations go unmet. Even if they’re, like not conscious expectations, when things don't go the way we had hoped or planned that usually sets us sideways depending how big of the issue it is. But in any way, even small, it just sets us off or it can set us completely sideways and ruin our day or month or year. So, here we are pretty much dead center of the month, the first month and we came into this journey with expectations. I mean the spiritual journey that we are on through the Bible may be dovetailing with other resolutions - diet, health, whatever, job, whatever - but we have expectations. And a lot of times when we think about our relationship with God and we think about our expectations we think that God is supposed to make life easier for us. It's…that's like His job. His job is to make the trouble or the trial or the challenge or the thing that we have to endure just to make it easier to make it go away. In fact we can make a complete mess of our lives and expect Him to just make it all go away and then still get mad at Him for what we've done. So, we have expectations, and we may be expecting that life by default since we’re reading the Bible every day is gonna get easy. So, let's just read a little bit from the Scriptures today, starting with the Psalms. This is from David, the king of Israel. “O Lord how long will you forget me? Forever? How long will you look the other way? How long must I struggle with anguish in my soul with sorrow in my heart every day?” So, like I know there's thousands of us hearing those words and saying, “that sounds like my life.” And then there are thousands of us that are like, “I know what that feels like.” And then there are thousands of us going, “I'm glad that's not what's going on with me right now”. But we generally understand what's being said here, the cry of the heart. So, this is an ancient king of Israel voicing these things. So, another way of looking at it is that he faced unexpected challenges, even as the king and a man that the Bible tells us was a man after God's own heart.

Let’s go to Genesis. Jacob is in the in between. He has fled to Laban his uncle in Padanaram and he has spent over two decades building up his household and he is going back to his homeland where his father is. And he's right in between. Laban his uncle finds out that he's fled and so he gathers his men, and they go in hot pursuit of Jacob. And we see that confrontation and we see that showdown and we see a covenant being made. And as soon as that's over Jacob…Jacob continues his journey and sends word to his brother Esau. The last time those two guys saw each other they were mortal enemies. Like Esau was planning how he was gonna kill Jacob. And the next thing Jacob knows there's a 400-person army in hot pursuit of his household. Like he's getting it from both angles from behind him in his past and coming at him in his future. He’s like stuck in the middle.

And we move into the book of Matthew and walk alongside Jesus and we hear Him say, “I, the master of the household have been called the prince of demons. The members of my household will be called by even worse names.” Maybe you can see the theme here if you can see the theme screaming out of all the different sections of the Bible, that it's not always gonna be easy. And that has nothing to do with whether we are growing spiritually. In fact, it's in the challenging times that we do grow spiritually. Jesus goes on, says some really provocative things. “I have come to set a man against his father, a daughter against her mother, a daughter-in-law against her mother-in-law. Your enemies will be right in your own household. If you love your father or mother more than you love me, you're not worthy of being mine. If you love your son or daughter more than me, you’re not worthy of being mine. If you refuse to take up your cross and follow me, you are not worthy of being mine. If you cling to your life, you will lose it, but if you give up your life for me you will find it.” Wow. What is being said here? How do we live into this? Essentially what we see happening in the life of Jesus is borne out in the words that He says. Jesus is a sinless human being living true and operating in this world as God intended it. How do we know this? Because Jesus is God in the flesh. So, it's obviously His intention. And what do we see Jesus doing continually? Calling the truth out of the shadows. In other words, calling the light out of the darkness or shining the light of truth into the dark shadows. But if you are hiding in the shadows and the light of truth exposes what you are doing, what do you do? You scramble for cover, you put up the smokescreen, you do all kinds of deceptive things to make it not be your fault that you were in the darkness. The Bible tells us, but we know this already, the darkness hates the light. That’s the most basic metaphor for the cosmic struggle of all things. The darkness hates the light. When the light exposes what is in the dark what is in the dark fights against the light to shut it down so that the status quo can remain the same, the darkness can permeate so that all of the devious deceptive things that happen in the darkness can continue forward. So, Jesus isn’t saying like, “I've…it was my mission to make a son be at enmity with his father and a daughter against her mother. Like I'm here just to make mayhem upon the earth.” What He's saying is, “this is what happens when the truth comes.” And everyone who is not going to let go and surrender into the truth and live in the truth is going to be exposed. And the people that don't want to be exposed, yeah, then you have a man against his father, a daughter against her mother, a daughter-in-law against her mother-in-law. And Jesus is saying, “if you love your father or mother more than you love me” in other words, “I am the way”…this is Jesus…”I am the way and the truth and the life. I am the light. I am showing you the way to go. If you love even the closest people in your life more than you love the truth, if you would rather stay in the dark and facilitate that instead of just dealing with the disruption of being true then maybe you are where you think you are.” And what fundamentally is going on here? Jesus is talking about expectations. And in the very next scene in the book of Matthew we have John the Baptist's disciples coming to Jesus showing their expectations. “Are you, the one or should be…we be waiting for somebody else because you're not doing what we thought you were going to do? Our expectations aren't being met.” And their expectations were that a Messiah, the anointed one would come, and His mission would be very immediate to their situation. He would be a godly devout person who would be able to communicate and raise up a resistance that by the hand of God would succeed in defeating the Roman empire, at least in the region of Syria where Jerusalem and the Galilee were. So, John's disciples are going, “are you the one or should we expect somebody different.” And Jesus said, go tell John what you see happening. You have got to stop with this military overthrow mentality. Go tell him what you've seen. The blind see, the lame walk, the lepers are cured the deaf hear, the dead are raised, good news is being preached to the poor. In other words, your expectations are clouding the fact that the kingdom of God is breaking in all around you. Everything foretold, this is what to expect. This isn't gonna be some worldly military overthrow. This is gonna be an onslaught of the love of God descending upon the earth and revealing his kingdom. Go tell John what you've seen and heard. So, my brothers and sisters we’re exploring like from all over the Bible today this kind of theme of what we expect to happen. And what we do when that doesn't happen reveals itself and its very, very penetrating. It actually goes to the bed rock of our faith, because if our faith is based upon our expectations, well, I guess we all know where that roads gonna go, not only from life experience but from the Bible itself. And, so, let's do some re-adjusting as we continue to move into this year. Let's re-adjust what we’re expecting to happen. What will happen if we will surrender is transformation. The way we look at the circumstances that are facing us, the way we face them and deal with them. But the circumstances themselves that life presents as challenges, those aren't going to go away. It's how we’re going to deal with them that will change. And that can change everything about the rest of this year in our lives.

Prayer:

Jesus, we come into that. It's not our favorite topic. We like the stories that turn out “and they lived happily ever after.” And that is our story, but in between here and there is much learning and growing and resistance and endurance and challenge. And so often when we feel overwhelmed by the challenges of life it feels like we’re alone and its easy…easy for us to wallow in it. We get self-absorbed about it, we get angry about it, and we get angry at You about it when You have never left us. You have never abandoned us. And had we listened to You, had we listened to the voice of wisdom we may have been able to navigate much better. But life is full of challenges and this is how we grow. So, come Holy Spirit and reframe how we look at these things so that our expectations are growth and not ease. We pray this in the name of Jesus. Amen.

Announcements:

dailyaudiobible.com is the website, it is home base, it’s where you find out what’s happening around here. So, yeah, be sure to stay tuned and stay connected.

The Community section’s where to get connected.

The Daily Audio Bible Shop is there and we’ve talked some…about some of the resources that are there to help us move through the Bible, like the Promised Land films so that we can see some of these places with our own eyes. So, check that out. And, yeah, I mean we have been at this a long time and so we've considered and created over the years different things that will help us get context because it's so important that we get some sort of context for what's happening. And Promised Land, the films allows us to see into some of these places where the Bible actually happened. So, yeah, check that out. And there are number of other resources for going deeper in the Daily Audio Bible Shop. So…well…check it out.

If you want to partner with the Daily Audio Bible you can do that at dailyaudiobible.com. There’s a link on the homepage. If you’re using the app you can press the Give button in the upper right-hand corner or the mailing address is PO Box 1996 Spring Hill Tennessee 37174. And I thank you. I thank you with all of my heart for your partnership. The truth is, we wouldn’t be here if we weren't in this together. If we weren’t throwing logs on the Global Campfire together then…then we wouldn’t be making this voyage that we’re on. And I’m so deeply humbled. I’m so, deeply grateful that this can happen. And, so, if this is life-giving to you than thank you for your partnership.

If you have a prayer request or encouragement you can hit the Hotline button in the app, which is the little red button at the top no matter where you are. I love that we have a hotline. Like I love that it’s in our pocket, it's on our device, our phone, our tablet or whatever, and no matter where we are, no matter what's going we have that. And, so, you can hit that and share your message no matter where you are in the world. If you prefer the telephone, we have phone numbers depending on where you are in the world. In the Americas 877-942-4253 is the number to call. If you are in the UK or Europe 44-20-3608-8078 is the number to call or if you are in Australia or that part of the world 61-3-8820-5459 is the number to dial.

And that's it for today. I’m Brian I love you and I'll be waiting for you here tomorrow.

Community Prayer and Praise:

Hello Daily Audio Bible this is Jeremy Neff from Southern Oregon. I just want to say thank you Brian and Hardin and family for all the efforts you put into reading this Bible like this. It always amazes me to hear that you’ve been doing this for 15 years and I just found out about a year ago. I can’t believe it. I always wanted to read through the Bible in my lifetime at least and this was the first year that I was able to complete that. And, so, I’ve appreciated this, and it’s helped me to get to the whole Bible and broaden my study time and getting into the word of God. And I just need this so bad. It’s hard for me to talk here. I…I talked earlier. I’m a cancer patient and I’ve been given just months before hospice and months to live and I really don’t have a lot of time to, but I just covet your prayers for everyone here and I thank you all for your prayers in the past. I’ve asked for prayer before and I just want to know I love you all and look forward to hearing you every day. And I just pray that God will bless each everyone in this year ahead. Thank you so much for your faithfulness Brian and…and I just pray that God will bless this country as we’re such in dire straits. And I worry about my family if I should go that my family will be left to deal with all this. So, I’m praying for my family and my wife and my grandkids. And I just pray that you’ll include them in your prayers too. Thank you. God bless each and every one of you.

Hello DAB family this is Abiola calling from New York. I called and once before, but I used a different name for 2021. Happy new year everyone. I’d like to be a lot more communicative with our community. You guys are such a blessing. For anyone that is new, stick with it. This is such an awesome community. The love that resonates through here is felt wherever you are. The growth that you will see is undeniable. Thank you so much Brian, Jill, and China for shepherding and leading this community the way you do. We are completely, completely blessed. So, I really like you guys to get to know me more. I like to pray with you and pray for you. 2020 was a crazy year and I was a little scared to listen because I wondered as a black female what I would hear, but the love, the outpouring of love, the overflowing of prayers and…and…and….and motivation and encouragement is incredible, and it was really, really a necessary tool in 2020. So, thank you guys. I would love to let you get to know more about me as time goes on. Tonja with a J, what I think you so much. God bless you for your enthusiasm finishing the Bible in a year. Thank you for reminding us that we should not be complacent about what we have here in this community. I want to pray that you keep up the strength. Do not lose heart. God bless you all.

Heavenly Father I want to pray for those who are out there that are feeling despair, that are feeling hopeless, that are feeling depressed Lord or at the end of their ropes or not sure what to do or are at a point where they are…are just down and out. And we all have times where we feel that we are down and out. But I know Lord that You have given us Your spirit, You have given us Your comfort. And I pray for them today and I ask Lord that You be with them, that You comfort them, that…that Your Holy Spirit speaks to them, that You pull them out of these…that place of despair and hopelessness and…and feeling depressed and in a place where they are not sure, especially when we go through really difficult circumstances or experiences or don’t even understand why we’re going through those experiences. But Father I know You’re the God of hope. You have given us hope. You have given us Lord Your…Your…Your love Lord. You have…You have spoken clearly in Your word when You have said that You’ve not given us that spirit of fear Lord but, You know, of love and of a sound mind Lord. I pray Father that You would go ahead and touch all individuals that are feeling this way and may they experience Lord Your love. May they know You love Lord. May they know Father that there is nothing God that they can do on this earth in their past and their present and their future that can separate them from Your love. Father I pray for them in Jesus’ name.

Good morning and happy new year family brother Chad from JOMO. It is the 11th January and I just got through listening to the 10th of January and Tonja with a J called in and I want to tell you I sat here celebrating with you. I mean, I was crying, I was clapping because I remember the first time that I finished the Bible in a year. I read it in a year before, but I don’t know. It was something else about sharing it with everybody around the world, with…with Brian and his family. Pretty much when this all started, I think I started in the second year or maybe the third. Anyway, I’ve been doing it for about 12 or 13 years. So, it was about the third year. Anyway, and it was it was joyous it was joyous celebration it really was. I just…I…I felt it all over again with my sister Tonja with a J when she hopped on here it just put a huge smile on my face. She brought tears to my eyes and I wanted to call and tell you I love you and am celebrating with you. Congratulations and keep on go and sister. Pull out your Bible. Follow along in your Bible. It actually helps you grow and learn further when you’re seeing the words while he’s reading them to you. It’s actually a blessing. I highly recommend that. It’s just a...it’s…it will help you dive in deeper and grow stronger. And we’re in those days where it’s important that we have the word hidden our hearts and we have the understanding of the entire counsel of the Lord because there’s much much going on in the world today that’s…that’s not exactly on our side. So, you stay strong, stay faithful, keep on listening keep on reading and you, I bless you. I bless and I thank you sister. I…I…just you made me…you made me happy, put a smile on my face. God bless you all have a blessed week. Brother Chad from JOMO.

Hello, my beautiful family this is Suzanne calling from Albuquerque. I just want to call and share something what I’ve been going through the last could of months. As you know I’m the only Christian in my family and it was so hurtful last year and really there was a lot of verbal abuse and rudeness and the more time that went by where nobody acknowledged how they treated me, the deeper the wound got and I was digging the hole. It was festering. It was like a weed and it was growing and the more I focused on what they had done to me the worse it got. I was watering the weeds. So, anyway I…I had to pardon this big time because it’s really up to me as a Christian to…to take my eyes off of that pain and just focus on Jesus. And the whole process of forgiveness, it’s a process because you can easily go back and start thinking about whatever it is. But I realize the moment I take my eyes off of Him and start looking at all this other insignificant really, insignificant stuff that…and my heart’s in danger. And, so, I’m getting a real clear picture of what the proverb means, “above all else guard your heart.” So, the moment I chose to make forgiveness the mainstay of my day the…that pain just lifted from me immediately. And, so, I’ve got peace in my life again and it’s because of Jesus and it’s because of forgiveness. They don’t have Jesus. So, I really need to start praying for them. And thank you family for being there.

Hi Daily Audio Bible family it’s a daughter of the king in Australia just wanting to touch base with people and especially people who are struggling with depression and anxiety and those sort of things. I want to remind myself and encourage others to really to give thanks just praise God for anything, especially for those of us who are struggling with depression. It’s a __ that’s a really wonderful and powerful thing to do and I…and I really think that it’s got some real breakthrough power. And, so, I have found that to be helpful for myself. So, I’m just at the beach. It’s summer in Australia so it’s really beautiful and I’m enjoying creation. And, so, it is so easy for me to thank God and praise Him for His beautiful creation and this beautiful climate and the beautiful sea and the sunset, just…and the rocks. It’s just too easy. So, I just want to pray really quickly. Father God I lift up everybody who’s struggling with depression and anxiety. And Father I pray that You would really minister to their hearts and encourage them and really draw them closer to You and…and just help them to even look at things from a little bit of a different perspective. Help us all to do that and encourage us to praise You even if it’s for one thing just each day at least. Alrighty. In Jesus’ name. Amen.

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wangxianrabbit · 4 years

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Wangxian Week Day 5

Past | Future | Mythology AU

Title: The Birth of a God

Author: wangxian rabbit

Rating: T

Warnings: character death

Summary: When a hero who helped the gods fight the tyrant fire god is turned on and killed by the same gods he helped, the moon god will do anything to save his beloved.

Among all the gods, there was one that not many people knew about. Even the other gods didn’t interact with this god. This god was known to take in young orphaned mortal children and train them to become great heroes. Her name was Baoshan Sanren. One of her most famous disciples was a woman named Cangse Sanren. This woman was well known for breaking rules and getting into trouble. She was very much the definition of a free spirit. She attracted many suitors, even gods, but in the end she married an ordinary mortal man. With him, she had a son, Wei Wuxian.

One day, while helping a small village with its demon problem, she was killed, along with her husband, leaving their young son alone. For a few years, their son struggled to get by, stealing food when he had to. Then one day, a rich looking man in purple robes appeared before him. The man claimed to have known his mother and wished to help him. The man took him to the temple of the water god, Jiang Fengmian, and he told the boy that he’d visit often and bring him food, clothes, and anything else he’d need.

Years had passed and the boy was now fifteen. Over the years, the man he’d started to call ‘uncle’ had taught him how to hunt and fight. His daughter and son had stopped by when they could over the years as well and they all grew quite close. They considered each other siblings at that point.

One day, while out hunting in the forest near the temple, he ran into a young man in white robes. The man was so handsome, otherworldly so. The man seemed to radiate light. His golden eyes seemed to glow. When the young man noticed him staring, he started to walk away. Wei Wuxian tried to follow him, but the man turned around a tree and vanished. Wei Wuxian believed he’d just seen a ghost.

Soon enough, the fire god started a war against the other gods, trying to become the ruler of everything. He burned down temples, killed many mortals, and even killed a few gods. Wei Wuxian, having grown up hearing stories of his mother and other heroes as well as being a prodigy when it came to fighting, chose to fight on the side of the other gods.

There were many gods, demigods, and even some mortals who fought the fire god, Wen Ruohan. Everything became truly serious to the gods when he attacked the home of the sky god, Cloud Recesses. In the attack, the Cloud Recesses was burned, the sun god disappeared, plunging the world into constant darkness, the moon god became seriously injured, and the sky god himself became fatally wounded, dying soon after.

Hearing this, Wei Wuxian decided to do something that nobody else would dare to do, scared of what the consequences would be. He attacked the fire god’s temple, burning it to ashes. This infuriated the fire god. Not only had he attacked his temple, but doing so with his own element, what a bold move. The fire god started hunting Wei Wuxian down. When the fire god’s second son, Wen Chao, was close to finding him, the water god stepped in. Wei Wuxian was confused when his uncle appeared to him.

“We haven’t got much time. Quickly now,” his uncle urged him. He held his hand out to Wei Wuxian and once he took it, they teleported somewhere he’d never been before. The place was beautiful. They were in a palace surrounded by a huge lake full of lotus flowers.

“What’s going on?” Wei Wuxian asked.

“I guess it’s time I properly introduced myself. My name is Jiang Fengmian,” his uncle smiled.

“Wait, you’re the water god?” Wei Wuxian asked in disbelief.

“Yes, I knew your mother many years ago. When she married your father and had you, I promised her that if anything happened to them, I’d look after you. I’ll admit, it took me a while to track you down, but I did eventually. I raised you so that you could choose what you wanted for your life. I never imagined you’d burn down a god’s temple though.”

Before Wei Wuxian could respond, a woman marched into the room. The woman demanded angrily why Jiang Fengmian would bring this troublemaking boy into their home, claiming that all he’d do is bring them problems. Jiang Fengmian argued with his wife and tried to diffuse the situation, but his wife just stormed off.

Sadly, the lightning goddess had been right. Once Wen Ruohan found out that Jiang Fengmian brought Wei Wuxian into his home, he attacked Lotus Pier and burned it to the ground. Jiang Fengmian and Yu Ziyuan were both killed in the attack when they were protecting their children and Wei Wuxian’s retreat.

Afterwards, they took refuge where the other gods set up camp. This is where he finally met the man from the woods. The young man was introduced as Lan Wangji, the moon god. Wei Wuxian instantly took an interest in the god and stuck to him whenever possible. At first, Lan Wangji hated being around him, but throughout the course of the war, they became closer.

Soon enough, the sun returned and the world was once again bright. It was revealed that the sun god, Lan Xichen, had been told by his uncle to take what he could from their library and flee. Lan Xichen hadn’t wanted to leave them, but did as his uncle ordered. He had taken refuge in the mortal world with a young demigod son of Jin Guangshan, the god of riches.

The war ended when the sun and war gods were directly fighting Wen Ruohan and the demigod son of Jin Guangshan, Meng Yao, had stabbed the fire god in the back with a heavenly weapon. The fire god had perished and order was once again restored. A leader of a branch family who had acted as a medic throughout the war, Wen Qing, took the place and title of the fire goddess. Jiang Cheng had taken up his mother’s title as the new lightning god while his sister became the new water goddess. The two siblings rebuilt Lotus Pier as well as helping the other gods where they could. Since Meng Yao had killed Wen Ruohan himself, he was granted godhood and renamed ‘Jin Guangyao’.

In the following years, Wei Wuxian and Lan Wangji had become so close that they were believed to be lovers by the other gods. The two were oblivious of the other’s feelings though, so no intimate relationship actually occurred. They just remained close friends. In the meantime, Jin Guangyao had started scheming for a way to take the throne of the gods for himself and he needed someone to be his scapegoat. He saw the close relationship that Wei Wuxian, a mere human, had with the moon god and decided that he was the perfect one to cast the blame on.

In the end, the gods turned on the hero that had helped them so long ago except for his siblings and Lan Wangji. The moon god tried to defend and protect him, but it was no use. Wei Wuxian ended up being killed and Lan Wangji was left to pick up the pieces of his shattered heart.

Lan Wangji decided that he would bring Wei Wuxian back no matter what and set out for the Underworld soon after. Once there, he met with the god of the dead, Mo Xuanyu, and asked him to return Wei Wuxian to him. At first, Mo Xuanyu denied his request, saying that once someone died, they couldn’t be brought back. Lan Wangji continued to press him and eventually Mo Xuanyu granted him permission to see Wei Wuxian, but still told him that Wei Wuxian couldn’t leave since he was dead.

Wei Wuxian was summoned to the palace of the dead to see Lan Wangji. “Why are you here?” Wei Wuxian asked him.

“Come to bring you back,” Lan Wangji explained.

“You can’t. I’m dead. The dead can never leave the Underworld.” Wei Wuxian seemed confused by Lan Wangji.

“There’s a way.”

“What? How do you expect to do that? Anyways, what could I do if you somehow brought me back. The other gods would just kill me again. Dying once was enough for me, thank you.”

Lan Wangji didn’t say anything, instead reaching into his chest and pulling a ball of light out. Wei Wuxian’s eyes widened when he saw it, “Is that... is that your heavenly core? What do you plan to do with that?”

As a reply, Lan Wangji tore it in half. He placed half back within himself and pushed the other into Wei Wuxian’s chest. Lan Wangji had just given up some of his godly essence to turn Wei Wuxian into a god. “Now you can leave.”

“Lan Zhan! No! I can’t take this! Take it back, take it back please! This is too much!” Wei Wuxian pleaded.

Lan Wangji shook his head.

“I’ll still be hated and killed! I don’t want you to waste your core on me!”

“Not a waste.”

“But-”

“Return to Gusu with me.”

“What, I can’t possibly. I’ll only damage your reputation.”

“It’s fine. Return with me.”

“I can’t. You know this.”

“You were framed.”

“What?” Wei Wuxian couldn’t believe what was being said.

“You were framed,” Lan Wangji repeated. “We will find the culprit and clear your name.”

“Even if I was framed, what makes you believe that we can find the culprit? It won’t end well for either of us if I leave here.”

“Love Wei Ying.”

“What? What did you just say?” Wei Wuxian had to ask. He must’ve heard him wrong. There was no way that Lan Wangji felt the same way.

“Love Wei Ying. Return with me. Please.” Lan Wangji looked so serious that Wei Wuxian believed him.

“You really won’t take no for an answer, will you? Fine then. You’ve already given me part of your core to save me. I guess I owe it to you then,” Wei Wuxian finally accepted reluctantly. “By the way,” he whispered into Lan Wangji’s ear, “I love you too.”

Lan Wangji’s ears burned a bright red, but a smile could be seen on his face.

#wangxianweek2020 #wangxian #mo dao zu shi #grandmaster of demonic cultivation #founder of diabolism #wei ying #wei wuxian #lan zhan #lan wangji #jiang fengmian #meng yao #jin guangyao

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owlespresso · 5 years

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Tremble, Duck & Weave / 2

Also on my ao3, which can be found HERE.

Urianger hath read his fair share of fantastical prose—legends and stories that flaunt the true meanings of love, dramas that speak of star-crossed paramours and the bonds that gyve them. He hath combed through texts, rigorously reached the span of human emotion.

He was not wont to believe in such far fetched tales, with their extravagant exaggerations and reliance on worn tropes.

At least, till this very moment.

His wiry fingers trembled as they pressed cotton to thy bloodstained skin, clearing the refuse away from thy most immaculate form. Never before had he witnessed such incredible majesty. Thou art an incredible creation, as though Halone had sculpted thee with all the motherly love in the world, her very image.

His traitorous heart thumped in his chest like the frantic beating of a bird’s clipped wings against its cage. When the lord commander besought him unto thyside, he had expected to do nothing more than see to thy wounds—but this feeling—he felt as though he had been striped across the face.

He knew thy name—was well aware of thy exploits, but now he found himself seized by the need to know everything about you. The fresh, morning sun streamed in through the wide, steep window, shedding light unto thy glorious, bruised, beaten form.

He loved thee, he realized, utterly stricken. Despite having never heard a blessed word from thy lips, despite having never been fortunate enough to encounter thee before.

Why? How?

“The reports we’ve received thus far indicate that there was an ambush at the Ul’dahn banquet. The sultana was most regrettably poisoned, the blame cast onto the Warrior,” the lord commander loomed by the door, a towering presence despite the distance between them.

“That is incredibly unfortunate, given our current position,” Urianger could scarcely manage to work, admire thine sleeping face and pay attention to Aymeric’s incessant commentary all at the same time.

Thou art ethereal, limelit so extravagantly, mottled with the sweetest of crimsons and purples, a canvas covered in burgeoning blooms. His nimble fingers wrought tirelessly, laying antiseptics, salves and only the finest of Ishgardian-spun gauze athwart thy skin. His hands began to emit a pale, viridescent glow, sanative energy flowing into thy body. Thy injuries began to mend, skin sewing back together.

Whilst relieved to know thou wert well on the way to recovery, he could not help but grieve for the red sheen. There was no doubt that thou hadst utterly gorgonized him, snatched his heart free from his chest.

“They will be hale and hearty within the next sennight.”

“Thank you for coming on such short notice, Urianger,” Aymeric said, “We are most fortunate to have your talents at our disposal,” the door to the office nudged open, the lord commander calling a few, brief orders to the guards abreast the entrance. It all fell into background noise, flimsy and frail in comparison to thee.

Shame flushed his chilled skin as his fingers trender brushed across thine cheek, fervent heat shooting up his spine. He hovered twixt guilt and satisfaction, the conflict brewing threatening to overbrim his frail, mortal disposition.

What kind of man was he? To fall so deeply into infatuation with someone so bloodied at first sight? He retracted his touches as though scalded at the sound of footsteps hurrying in their direction. He felt as though a nitling, a blundering, repulsive fool.

Had he found pleasure in thy vulnerability? The thought nearly topped him as he stumbled from his stool. This was wrong, surely. Perhaps a sudden sickness had planted itself in his weary mind, his resistances weak after endless nights of sleepless study.

The guards strolled into the study, prepared to steal thee away. He hadst anticipated this, aye, but was woefully unprepared for the grief that shook him at the prospect. Thou wouldst only be down the corridor, but a desperate desire to remain as close as humanly possible to thee shook him to his very foundation, causing cold sweet to erupt across his clammy skin.

“I shall endeavor to make room in mine schedule for a visit before the day’s end. Her aether is severely depleted. Twould be wise to ensure the alchemists prepare a tincture to restore her supply,” the words felt like—no, they were sin on his lips, lies manifested as a poor excuse to once again behold thine godly visage.

Is this what infatuation does to good men? Turns them from honest denizens to scheming miscreants?

“I’ll see to it immediately and have it delivered to you post-haste,” Aymeric’s full lips curled into a fond smile, “I’m entrusting her care to you for the foreseeable future, Urianger. Ensure she receives a warm, hospitable welcome. We have use for her talents,” his vibrant gaze swept over the room, before returning to the astrologian.

Ah. The lord commander intended to use thee for his own purposes. As repulsed as any other man might have been, Urianger could not find fault with that plan.

It ensured that you would remain within the city’s walls and—oh heavens, what hath he become?

He strode over to the shelves at the back of the office, beginning to sort through potions and elixirs and medical supplies left long in disarray.

“Of course. Thou canst dependth on me, lord commander,” he set about reorganizing the cluttering of bottles on the top shelf first, carefully categorizing each one by use. It had been shamefully long since he had last house kept, and it currently served as a flawless excuse to not look the other man in the eyes.

Had de Borel seen the way in which he caressed thee? His stomach dropped at the thought.

“As much as I would like to stay and chat, I’m afraid I am needed elsewhere. Everywhere, perhaps. Thordan has left quite the workload for me,” the lord commander gave a laugh most hollow. The creak of the door signified the beginning of his departure.

Urianger’s hands trembled as he separated the Elixirs and Potions, Potions of various effects and caliber and color. He grimaces as he beholds the layer of dust that’s settled on every shelf.

“Farewell and best of luck to thee,” Urianger said.

The door clicked shut, the noise a lonely echo down the hall.

He listened keenly as the lord commander’s footsteps grew quieter and quieter. His pulse thudded in his ears, stomach in his throat. Only when silence reigned true did he press his back to the wall and slide to the polished wooden floor, cradling his head in his hands. It felt as though his world had stopped spinning on its axis, as though the poles had been knocked free from their fixed position, the glove spinning freely through the universe.

“Oh heavens above,” he moaned, begged as he tilted his head back, staring up at the domed ceiling, “What curse hath been cast upon my weary soul?”

------

Estinien has always seen it. The red that lines and freely runs through the streets—he sees it, even if the idle citizenry can’t.

Perhaps it’s the doing of Nidhogg’s eye which has long rested in the cavity of his chest, replacing the human crimson of his blood with black, draconic ichor. Perhaps it's several generations of Midgardsormer’s spawn showing him what they see when they gaze upon Ishgard’s mighty towers. He doesn’t know. He doesn’t care to find out. The young fool he had been during his days at the academy would balk at the sight of him now.

The crimson horns arch from his skull, the skin of his arms dyed inky black, patches of smooth scale decorating his body. The glamors hide it from everyone besides himself, a cruel reminder of what he is and what he once was.

“I think they’re amazing,” that gaudy fool, that Fortemps bastard, said to him once, face swollen in a gawsy grin.

His fingers curl around the frigid steel of his lance. The high winds batter him atop his perch, a small, domed ledge jutting from one of the city’s tallest towers. The inky blacks and reds of his armor would stand out stark from the dull Ishgardian masonry.

Across from him, a statue of Halone nestles between the other intricate stoneworks, her expression twisted with desperation, a feeble hand outstretched in his direction.

How ironic.

Her face begins to shift the longer he looks at her. The soft, anguished lines of her brows furrow downwards, into a judgmental scowl, her lips open around words he cannot hear. But he knows she slings vile venom in his direction. He knows she is denouncing him, disowning him, spitting bile as tears of crimson bead at the corners of her eyes, rolling down her cheeks gone gaunt, dripping onto the street below.

A sudden wave of nausea mixed with rage knocks his gaze away, drifting below and to the side. It’s a fight to keep himself from snarling because his veins pulse with rage at his own hallucination and he knows the beast that lives inside him knows he does not belong here. It throws childish fantods everytime he rears a house of worship, makes the simple task of existing in Ishgard take herculean effort.

His numb gaze continues to travel along the wall across from him until it stops on a window, the blinds parted just enough for him to peer inside.

A familiar form hunches over an occupied bed. Urianger’s black robe dips low, giving Estinien’s keen gaze can make out each toned muscle and fine curve of the astrologian’s back. He’s tending to someone. The Warrior of Light, he realizes near immediately. Aymeric made a point to mention it that very morning. She had been severely injured, shuttled off into Urianger’s care as soon as she arrived.

An investment, Estinien understood, a weapon Aymeric hoped to use in the name of Ishgard. After all, who wouldn’t want the vaunted Warrior of Light at their disposal? It’s cruel, he understands well, to think of a fellow, sentient being in such a manner, but that is the cold reality in which they live.

But the way in which Urianger handles her is far from cold and clinical. The astrologian’s long fingers brush tenderly across the warrior’s cheek, the tenderness in his eyes reaching beyond mere professionalism. It’s an expression he’s never witnessed on the other man’s usually severe expression.

At that very moment, Estinien realizes he’s a voyeur, a miscreant witnessing a sclipism by one of Ishgard’s most renowned healers.

The beast inside of him gives an interested, low croon at the pure sin of it.

His blood pumps hot and rhapsodic in his veins, taking in the other man’s broad shoulders, imagining the downy softness of his hair. He imagines the shred of pale flesh underneath his sharpened claws, savors the vision of his teeth sinking into a slender neck.

No!

The man in him snarls. He crouches, leaps from his perch in a desperate bid to flee from the wretched pile of sin the monster created.

The streets are still dyed red, clumps of flesh and organs and scales, but no one else sees it.

#urianger #urianger augurelt #estinien #estinien wyrmblood #ffxiv #final fantasy xiv #fanfiction #writing #oz write

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pantheon-god-of-war · 4 years

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Into the Abyss.

When he descended it felt more like falling. Something that was still incredibly alien to the Targonian warrior and yet at the same time so engrained into every fiber of his being, the fall only to rise, he knew what he had to do without even thinking about it his muscle memory whipped in shape by the god of war himself, yet the more he consciously thought about it the more uneasy he grew. It was like breathing and reminding yourself to breathe. The air was cold and clear, it burned in his lungs as the frigid winds of the Freljord howled past him the wind chill of the howling gale was worsened only by his rapid descent. A mortal man would have frozen to solid ice mid fall. But he was no mortal man, he was Atreus god of war, reborn as Pantheon. A title he both loathed and accepted with duty unrelenting. The very godly essence that he vehemently opposed now burned within his veins, flickered over his body and warmed his flesh as he descended downward from the bridge above.

It had been an old structure, carved from black rock and covered with ice. Even the snow was frozen solid as scars in the rock told of a battle that long since lingered in the past of humanity. A battle he had wished to witness, these honored grounds told of countless heroic spirits that had left their life and bled their blood into the freezing soil for humanity. An outcry against the wicked and cruel, those who sought power over all else, those who corrupted good men and lands, those who waged war to gain wealth and power. The land would die under their rule, and the gods would rejoice at the failure of humanity, as they always had, as they always would. It was these noble mortal hearts that stopped the advance of a tyrant and in their last glorious hour with deeds of heroic valor they earned their place within the stars, their tale would not be forgotten by those who honored the old ways. They knew the price of their courage and glory, and they paid it willingly, no amount of dark might or magical prowess could stand against such selfless heroism.

His thoughts reached out to these heroes of old, these brothers of his craft, he knew that mortal courage could eclipse the very gods themselves and finding this field of honor rekindled his own heart with vigor and determination. He was not the first to raise his weapons against the divine and super natural and upon his passing, he would not be the last. For as much as the gods mocked them, humans had to fight and endure simply to live, they would continue to fight and endure, for that was the penance that they payed life itself. For that very reason strength of character and altruism would never ebb within mortal hearts. It took not a king, but a beggar to understand the value of one single act of valor, or kindness. Those that suffered the most valued every breath of fresh air, it would be upon their shoulders that the future fell once he met his end in battle. And he was confident that from among their ranks would rise another to claim the mantle of war, another to rise to the challenge of the gods.

He saw the solid delimitation before him as he descended. But as he approached that which seemed to be solid matter, it yielded to the illusion of howling gales and screaming winds and thus he descended through a thick layer of blinding fog. He could feel the mist dampen his skin as he cut through the blanket like his spear through flesh. When he burst from the winter mist he laid eyes on a dark domain, the sun was alien here as its light was denied by the clouds above, the walls were solid black rock, covered with a thick layer of dark ice which even in this dark chasm glistened with a mystic hue that evoked wonder from even this ever stoic champion of combat.

With a thundering crash did he finally land as the ground beneath him heaved with alien noise that reverberated through the entire chasm ungodly clicking that he could feel in his very bones as it howled through the dark winds. His gaze traveled down to the ground to find dark ice under the thick layer of snow that covered all within this fissure. His fingers tightened around the shaft of Skyfall as Nova reignited with celestial might. He could feel the god essence surging through him as he raised the spear high and brought it down with fury and might as its end smashed into the ground. Golden magic from a realm beyond lashed out from the mortal as it burned away the snow that had covered all. Standing like a statue he beheld the sigh that he had unearthed. Night sky blue ice stared back at him as his eyes trailed the many jagged cracks and veins that pulled through the ice. Frozen solid, this lake had not seen life in millennia. Instead it had been a tomb and when Pantheon saw even he faltered for but a moment. Sorrow gripped his wounded heart when he laid eyes upon the warriors he had hailed heroes earlier. Entombed in ice their last breath caught still in their lungs, he watched as they had died thousands of years ago. Looking around he realized the vastness of scale only after his eyes had traveled for a while. An entire army of champions locked in ice, their souls ensnared in this cursed dark lake, this prison of ice that was their tomb. As he strode over the lake, he could not find a single face not twisted by anguish and ravaged by pain. In this deafening silence he could hear the roaring screams of a thousand souls conscribed to the afterlife, damned to suffer in this frozen hell for eternity, when they had given their all for humanity. This was the true face of glory, the result of sacrifice, this was a heroes reward. How the stories and the carved murals twisted the truth, to augment praise and glory due to heroes, who would pick up their blade when they knew this was the fate of heroes, this was how champions were rewarded for their sacrifice.

He stopped moving to stare at a man no meter beneath him. His face bared, eyes wide and mouth agape as he was locked, screaming for eternity his right hand almost reaching out for the Targonian, he could only imagine the agony of being frozen in place while the air in ones lungs turned to snow and life seeped into the dark deep ice. The weight of every solider lost crashed heavy upon Pantheons broad shoulders and sent him down to his knees. With all his might and prowess he felt powerless at the sight of this massacre knowing full well that this battle concluded millennia before his birth. Still he reached out his hand for that of the nameless warrior, to rest it upon the ice. If only he could pull him from this frozen tomb and save him, just one. It would never be enough, but it would be a start.

It was his free hand that came up to the celestial steel removing the helmet from his visage so that he could meet the others gaze with mortal eyes. Golden irises met ice blue ones, neither of them moving as Pantheon stared into the soulless corpse that had neither decayed nor aged in all this time. He did not know this mans name, nor his story but none the less Pantheon weeped for him, for them all as his tears turned to ice the second they left his eyes. Each single soul a sacrifice, each soul another reason to fight, to rage against the dying of the light and cast low the beings of divinity. These noble warriors had nothing but their lives, no choice to fight and die and yet they faced their end without fear, without hesitation. What was divine might against such courage and conviction? It was nothing. He drew strength from each single one of them as they screamed their anguish into the eternal ice from bellow leaving him on the other side, to sit and contemplate his own demise and how he wanted to be remembered.

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shreddedparchment · 6 years

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To Be Seen Epilogue

03/18/2019

Pairing: Thor x Reader Word Count: 4,038

*Masterpost in Notes Warnings: Talk of death, corpses, blood, language, fluff

A/N: I went through several version of this before I finally settled on the exploration of where Thor’s love comes from and why it’s so intense. I hope you enjoy this. I hope I got it right, especially the first half. I’m pretty nervous about it actually. As always, if you happen to reblog, thanks so much for helping me spread my work! And thank you so much for coming on this journey with me of Thor and his insecure dove. xoxo

Thunder rumbles around Thor as he soars through the darkening sky.

Midgard had been off limits to him for ages, instructed by Odin himself to keep away.

“They do not understand who we are. They think us Gods. They build us temples and worship us as deities. We do not belong among them and you are forbidden from going there.

“Our presence does nothing but disrupt their lives. Do you hear me, boy?”

“Yes, Father.” Thor agrees though he has little intention of keeping his promise.

For years Thor has escaped to this small blue planet and only in the last one did something change.

He'd made it a point to keep to himself, exploring the wilderness, the beauty of the realm without disrupting its people.

It had happened so quickly that Thor had no time to hide himself.

One moment he was merely standing upon the edge of a sharp cliff, hundreds of feet above the nearest village, staring out at the distant sea and the next he was soaring through the sky, diving after a girl, no older than twenty or so.

Thor watches your figure plummet towards the ground and barely manages to wrap his large arm around your waist before pulling you against his massive body as he pulls out of his dive and back up towards the mountain's peak.

Gently he sets you back on your feet and drops Mjolnir but keeps his hands on your waist as the panic recedes from your expression.

You look so terrified, so shocked that Thor's heart hurts for you.

“Are you alright?” He asks, gentle in his tone so as not to scare you more.

You don’t seem able to speak which makes Thor smile at you reassuringly. He gives you a quick look, taking in the white woolen dress you wear and the thick, faded red apron over your front, fastened by your shoulder with two large bronze brooches.

Your feet are covered in thick leather boots and your hands also wrapped with leather gloves. You’re missing a cloak which explains the shiver in your body as he holds you still.

He watches your mouth flutter as you struggle to form words.

“Can you not speak?”

Thor shuffles back as you suddenly drop to your knees. Your hands clutch at the toes of his boots and your shoulders heave with sobs.

“What has thou rescued me for, oh Mighty Thor?” Thor listens to the words between your cries and for several moments he can only watch you, confused and unsure of what to do or say. “For what purpose has thou spared me?”

“Spared you? I do not understand.” Thor mumbles, feeling uncomfortable with the way you’re bowing to him.

He’d thought so often of ruling Asgard, of taking his father’s place on the throne and being a King just as great and noble, but seeing you bow at his feet makes him uncertain.

“I came to the mountain to end my life.” You confess and Thor’s heart lurches painfully.

“What?!”

“I have disgraced my family. I could not make Audun marry me, I am not worthy of this gift of life thou has bestowed upon me, but it is not my place to question the gift of a God. For what purpose has thou rescued me? Am I to be thy slave? I will serve you, Mighty Thor, and will be grateful for your mercy.”

Thor shuts his eyes, stunned by your display of obedience and devotion but he doesn’t want it.

“You came to this mountain to kill yourself?” Thor asks you, watching as your head begins to move up to look at him but you stop yourself, remembering something, before you divert your gaze back to his feet.

“Does it offend thee? I am sorry. I do not wish to make you angry and incur your wrath, but if it is thy wish to punish me, I shall bear it as best I can. I shall not beg thee for mercy for ‘tis my own fault that I have failed mine ancestors and family. I will accept whatever consequences mine actions have wrought.”

Thor hates the pleading in your voice and the eagerness to please. Confusion overcomes him once more as he considers the fact that this should please him. He’d known what he would be in store for if he ever met with a Midgardian, his father had explained it.

Still, as much as he’d once thought it would be nice to be worshipped like this, actually watching you grovel at his feet makes him feel small. You are an exquisite creature in your own right, why should you worship at his feet when you might dress in slightly finer clothes and be as beautiful as any of the Asgardian women he knows?

“I do not aim to punish you. Please, rise.” Thor asks, almost begging.

“I cannot.”

“Then at least look at me.”

Once again, your head moves to look up at him but then stops halfway and reverts back to staring at his feet.

“I am not worthy of looking into thy Godly face. I am worthless and do not deserve to be in thy presence.”

Thor squats down, angry suddenly, then grabs your arms to pull you up out of your stooping position.

Thor can see that it is the shock more than your obedience of his wishes that bring you to meet his emblazoned eyes.

“You are a Goddess among mortals.” Thor declares slowly and so passionately that he stuns you into temporary silence.

Now that you’ve met his eyes, you don’t look away. Instead you stare into his electrifying blue gaze, searching it for the clear lie that he just told.

“I could not even hold one man’s interests. I am no Goddess, my God of Thunder.”

Thor’s heart suddenly flutters. My God of Thunder. Why does he like the way that sounds on your lips so much? Suddenly he sees you. He really sees you.

You are broken hearted. Saddened by your ruined nuptials and scared of what comes next. He can see the value that you hold in yourself and he can see that it is low. You feel as if you are a failure and though Thor has never felt that before personally, he can imagine what it might be like to feel as if you have failed in your life’s purpose.

“Then perhaps that man was a fool? Your life is a gift, uh..uh…what is your name?” Thor fumbles, realizing he hasn’t gotten your name in all the excitement.

“Brenna, my God. My given name is Brenna.” You whisper, so taken aback by his unrelenting gaze that you hardly have enough air to keep breathing.

“Brenna…” Thor repeats, his lips stretching into a soft smile. “I-I think I must go now but if it is possible, I would like to call on you again, Brenna.”

“I am thy humble servant, my God of Thunder. I am yours to do with what you will. I am forever in your debt.”

Thor frowns. “You have no debt. You are your own but if I may, I would have you call me by my name. Call me, Thor.”

Thor watches the struggle in your expression as you try to come to terms with his orders and the way he releases you at the same time to be free from his service.

“I-I am…Yes.” Thor smiles as you finally relent. “Thou may call on me if thou wishes, Th-Thor.”

“Come, on your feet, Brenna.” Thor helps you up, making sure you’re steady before he glances down at the distant ground. “I have brought you high. Shall I help you down?”

His offer to assist you seems to strangle your words again and it takes you a minute to respond. “I-I can walk, my G-Thor.”

Thor can see how uncomfortable you are, but he doesn’t care. He will have you call his name freely in time.

“It is more than a day’s journey if you are to climb down on your own. Allow me to carry you down.” Thor reaches out and wraps his left arm around your waist slowly, his hand tracing along your covered flesh and all but robbing you of your sanity.

He can hear you gasp at his touch and for some reason, it excites him. His stomach flips and he licks his lips, smiling at the way you curl in on yourself, your hands rising to rest between both your chests. You keep your hands fisted and hold them against your breasts so that you don’t touch him as he pulls you flush against his body.

“Do not fret, my Goddess,” Thor whispers and it’s so intoxicating that it draws your gaze up to meet his own amused and enraptured look. “I will not harm you.”

Thor is sure that you aren’t afraid of him harming you. In fact, he’s sure that it’s more that you’re overwhelmed not only with his Godly presence but his stunning looks. Thor knows he looks good.

He’d taken care to wear his best cloak. Not that he’d expected anyone to see it, he just liked looking good.

Thor opens his right hand and Mjolnir flies into it.

“Hold tight.” He whispers to you and then spins his hammer round and round before thrusting it up towards the sky.

Eager to see you, Thor pushes Mjolnir forward. The wind whips around him as lightning illuminates the sky followed by the deep rumble of his thunder.

The last time he’d seen you, he’d gotten you a better cloak. With winter so close, he’d wanted to keep you warm. He’d finally gotten you to relax enough that he managed to finally kiss you. Something he hadn’t even known he’d wanted until the opportunity had presented itself.

As he draws nearer, he begins his descent and as he passes over your village, or rather the village you’d lived in before you’d failed in securing your marriage, he notices a lack of life.

The crops are dried out, several homes stand empty and collapsed. One still burns.

A sudden worry grips Thor’s heart and speeds him faster towards your long house, built for you by himself when you’d been shunned by the village.

His heart feels better when he sees that your dwelling seems untouched. The moss on the roof still blooms garden green but you’re not outside.

At this time, you would be gathering the wood for your fire. Smoke would be blooming from your home and the house would be filled with your sweet song.

His temporary relief shunned, Thor lands heavily a few feet from your hut. He crosses to the heavy wooden door and pulls it open only to be greeted by darkness.

“Brenna?” Thor calls out to the darkness, searching for you with his eyes alone.

The air is close and still, the faint scent of decay stings his nose. No one has come in or out in days. He’d only been gone two weeks, had you gone travelling? Perhaps you’d run out of grains and had gone to trade for some?

Had he stayed away too long?

With his heart heavy, Thor crosses to the nearest window and pushes it open to allow a flood of light and fresh air into the house.

“Brenn-No!” Thor rushes forward, crossing the home in four large steps then collapses onto his knees by your bed where on it rests your lifeless body.

“No. No. Brenna!” Thor cries, scooping your corpse into his arms.

You’re cold and limp, your pillow flooded with red.

How can this agony exist? Where there had been life there is nothing now but death. Thor does not understand it. He paws at your face, staring into your dead eyes as they stare back at him, unseeing. He runs his hand along the back of your head, taking in the red on your bed and the heavy gash upon your crown.

You’d bled out but it had not been quick. You would have laid there, bleeding into your pillow for days probably before you finally passed on.

“No…” Thor sobs, tearing his crying blue eyes away from your dead, beautiful face to look around at your home.

There had been a struggle. Not a big one, but a few chairs had been knocked over and plates and cups littered the floor. Someone had come to call on you and then caught you when you probably weren’t looking.

Anger begins to fill Thor’s chest as he turns his gaze back to you. He cups your chin, stroking your cheeks as he leans in to rest his forehead against your own as he shakes his head.

“Forgive me.” He begs, crying harder as he pulls back to stare into your lifeless face.

You gasp as Thor suddenly sits up, clutching at the sheets obscuring his wide chest.

“Oh my-Fuck, Thor, you scared me.” You reach up to massage your heart, having just sat down on the edge of the bed to settle in beside him for the night.

Thor looks for you after hearing your voice and that’s when you notice the tears on his cheek. “Puppy?”

In one fluid motion, Thor’s sitting with you between his legs as he clings to you and buries his face in your hair. He breathes in your scent, washing your neck in his warm breath.

“Thor, you’re scaring me.” You shift in your spot, turning a little more to face him but with your stomach seven months swollen, you can’t traverse enough to face him properly.

Instead Thor slides off the side of the bed and kneels in front of you so that you can sit facing him completely. Eager to be close to you he settles himself between your legs, his hands on your hips for a moment before he brings them up to cradle the sides of your face lovingly as he stares at you with those crying eyes as if he’s seeing you for the first time in years.

Those eyes are so blue but so sad it almost makes you cry too.

“Thor, what is it?”

“I’m sorry.” He sighs, reaching up with his right to wipe at his cheeks quickly before tucking your hair back as he continues to caress the sides of your head. “I-I had a nightmare.”

“What kind of nightmare? I’ve never seen you cry because of a dream before.” Though to be fair, you and Thor have only been back together for about a year.

It had been a happy year though. This is so sudden, this grief. Where is it coming from?

Thor looks down at your belly and brings his hands down to rest gently on its sides. He leans in to kiss it, leaving his lips to rest against it over the same white t-shirt of his that you’d been wearing when you’d conceived this baby.

“Thor!” You insist as quietly as you can.

Ben just went to sleep. You don’t want to wake him up.

“Forgive me.” Thor says in response but then his face crumbles as fresh tears rush forward and splash down onto your tummy.

“Oh, Puppy, what? What’s the matter?” You ask, near tears yourself.

You’ve never seen Thor like this before and it scares you.

He leans forward, resting his forehead against the top of your belly, and lets his hands slide up and down along the sides of your back as he continues to cry. You rest your left hand on the back of his head and reach down to rub his left shoulder to offer comfort as he goes through whatever it is, he’s going through.

The two of you stay like this for what feels like ages. Finally, he gets up and sits beside you.

You twist and pick up your leg a bit to rest your knee on the bed so that you can face him a bit better. He takes hold of your left hand with his right and you reach up with your own right hand to softly wipe away the tears on his cheeks.

“You okay?” You probe gently.

If he decides he doesn’t want to talk about it right now, then you’ll drop it. For now, anyway. There’s no way you’re letting this go after such a display.

“I’m fine.” He assures you. “I am sorry I frightened you.”

“It’s okay. I just-what is it?” You ask him, hoping that he can confide in you the way you confide in him.

“I do not know if it is wise for me to tell you.” Thor confesses and you try and ignore the nervous ache in your chest.

“Oh.” You reply sadly.

“No, Y/N, it is not that I don’t trust you. It is complicated. I do not wish to confuse you.” Thor releases your hand and places it on your stomach. “I do not know what telling you will do. I don’t want to risk any harm to Roslyn.”

“Thor, Rosie’s fine. What could you possibly tell me that would hurt our baby?”

Thor watches you, considering your words for a few minutes before he sighs heavily, conceding.

“What I am to say may shock you.” He warns.

You shift in your seat, scooting closer so that Thor can hold your belly a little easier. You also drop your hand and trace his arm from shoulder to wrist before taking hold.

“Do you believe that humans have past lives?” Thor asks slowly.

“You mean, reincarnation?” You ask, surprised by the turn of conversation. “I-I don’t know. I’ve never thought about it.”

“There is a reason I approached you in the park when I saw you crying five years ago.” Thor admits.

“You weren’t just being nice?” You ask him, shrugging your left shoulder and trying to make the conversation a little lighter because he’s dead serious and you’re not sure you like where this is going.

“I-I was concerned for you, yes but I have seen your face many times before. I was not expecting to see it here, in that park on that particular day but I did.” Thor tells you. “In fact, to be completely honest with you, I-I have been falling in love with you, my dove, for almost eight hundred years.”

As romantic as this declaration sounds, it’s also confusing as hell. “What?”

“I first met you, or rather, a woman who looked exactly like you, eight hundred years ago. She had been abandoned by her would-be husband merely days before she was set to marry and attempted to kill herself because she felt she was a disgrace to her family for having failed to secure the marriage.”

You scoff at his explanation, not sarcastically or like you don’t believe him, but because that follows your history pretty well.

“That sounds like something that would happen to me, actually.” You admit.

“I saved her.” Thor says. “I had no intention of falling in love with her, but I did. I was busy and could not be with her the way I am with you now, but I made sure to build her a comfortable life so that when I could not be around, I would know that she was living well.

“What I did not expect was for my favor to bring her misfortune.”

“What happened to her?” You ask, suddenly worried by the sadness in Thor’s eyes.

“The village she’d lived in began to experience disease, famine, and death. A few zealots cornered her and killed her. A sacrifice to the Gods so that their own misfortune might end. They wanted to please me. Instead they incurred my wrath and stole from me the woman I loved.”

“And you’re saying this woman was me?”

Thor shakes his head. “I do not know how it works. I know that she looked like you. Exactly like you. If you were to stand side-by-side now, you would be twins. Exact replicas.”

You bring your gaze down to his hands which are now carefully massaging yours, nervously fidgeting as you struggle with his revelation.

“Say something, my dove. Was I wrong to tell you?” Thor asks, worried about your lack of words and the confusion on your face.

“No. I’m glad you told me. I just-I don’t know how to respond to it. I mean, on the one hand, I’m super jealous. I don’t like hearing about you loving other women. I know you did but I don’t want to hear about it.”

“I’m sorry.” Thor says quickly.

“I mean, how do you feel when I talk about Eddie?”

“I want to rip his arms from their sockets.” Thor growls.

“On the other hand,” You continue, tilting your head to the left as you think it through. “You say that this woman was me? And that you’ve fallen for women over and over again who looked just like me?”

“Exactly like you. Not one has had a variation of any kind.” Thor assures you.

“I mean, I’m flattered?” You sigh and try to push all of this away. It’s too complicated.

Instead you focus on what you can understand. His loss.

“I’m sorry about what happened to that girl.” You offer.

“I love you.” Thor suddenly says, blinking slowly as he stares into your eyes, ignoring your lamentations. “I need you to know that. You have given me so much. Even though I say that I have been falling in love with you over and over for so many years, you Y/N, are the first woman to give me children. You are family in a way that no one else has ever been.”

“Thor…”

“I know I said it in passing but I will find a way to keep you with me forever. I aim for you to be my last love, Y/N. For Ben. For Roslyn, I will make you immortal so that our children will never want for their mother.” Thor declares passionately, wrapping strong bare arms around you.

“Puppy don’t make promises you can’t keep. I’m okay with dying so long as our babies have you with them.”

“I am not okay with you dying.” Thor insists. “Do you not understand that I cannot live without you now? You are my very heart and soul, Y/N. I need you by my side or I do not know how to live.”

You don’t want to argue with him because he’s really emotional. You can see the intensity in his eyes and his chest is heaving as he stares into your face.

“Thor-” You begin, intent on pacifying him for now in favor of picking up this discussion again later when he’s not so stressed.

“When Rosie is born, will you be my wife?” He cuts you off, his deep voice low and penetrating.

You gasp quietly, so shocked by his question that for a moment you forget how to speak.

“Y/N?”

“I-I…” You gasp again, Rosie kicking your tummy hard as it flutters. “Oh my God!”

“What?!” Thor asks, always on alert with you now that you’re pregnant. “Is it the baby?”

You laugh lightly and reach for his hand. “Yes.”

With his hand pressed against your tummy you let him feel the way she kicks. His eyes soften and his beautiful lips curl into a peaceful smile as he feels his daughter kick.

“She’s amazing.” He says, chuckling.

Blinking slowly, you bite your bottom lip as you stroke the back of Thor’s hand. “Yes, Thor.”

“What?” He asks, looking up at you with that same peaceful smile still in place.

“I said, ‘Yes.’” You repeat.

“Yes?”

You remain silent for a long moment, gazing into his blue eyes with avid sincerity as you gather all of your assurance that this man, this alien from another planet is the man you are supposed to be with from now until forever.

“Yes.”

His smile falls slowly as he finally gets what you’re saying.

“I love you.” You promise him and he scoops your legs up over his own so that he can lay you back against your pillows and kiss you ardently while your daughter responds to the flutters in your stomach with a relentless barrage of baby kicks.

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adashofniallandasprinkleoflunacy · 6 years

Note

the hades!harry vibes are strong in this photoshoot

[inspired by some ideas @harrysroleindunkirk came up with ;’)]

///

Hades could be such a narcissist at times and Persephone knows this.

She knows it very well because through all of the millennia she had spent married to him, she had seen the trait manifest across all different types of situations.

His slight narcissism was evident in the way Harry carried himself. How he went about the halls of the palace and the corridors of Olympus with his broad shoulders back, his chest puffed forward, and his expression set in a cool, stoney façade of superior indifference. It was present in the way he sat on his golden throne with his back perfectly straight and his thighs parted, not too wide but just enough to establish an aura of dominance in the humongous judging room.

It was evident in the smug, self-indulgent energy he gave off whenever servants, gods, and other mythological creatures praised him for anything he did. Whether it was higher beings complimenting his input during a council meeting up on Olympus, or members of his board expressing their awe at how smoothly he ran the Underworld, and even when a random nymph blushed bright green while serving him his wine. It all tickled him pink, feeding his ginormous godly ego to the brink.

And most of all (in her life, at least), it was ever-so prominent behind the thick black oak doors of their bedroom. It was in how Hades would fuck her up against the wall with her feet dangling off the ground, thighs clasped around his waist as he would grip her throat and jaw roughly, gritting his teeth while looking down upon her from over his cheeks, neon green electric currents webbing across the juniper shade of his irises. He would pound into her so hard the paintings would rattle on the obsidian walls, her hands clawing at his sweaty, flexing back as she released broken whines and pleas, shaking in his strong arms.

”Tell me how much you fucking love it. Want my dirty little thing to scream how bad she wants my cock.”

Harry’s narcissism wasn’t overwhelming by any means, but rather subtle and almost graceful, lurking beneath his natural confidence and waiting for the right moment to surface.

And it reveals itself now, as Y/N sits back on her heels amongst the dew-covered grass of her garden, looking small amidst the colorful arrays of daffodils, roses, and peonies. She’s grumbling to herself as she picks and prods at the fancy mechanism Harry had brought back from his trip overland, cursing humans for making everything more complex than it has to be.

“Oh, for Zeus’ sake, princess. Give it here.” Harry strides over from where he was leaning against a giant tree with leaves the color of red wine, taking the demented object from her grasp gently, rolling his eyes in a jesting manner. “Your age is starting to show. Can’t even work a camera.”

“Shut up.” Y/N snaps, a grouchy pout settling itself on her tinted lips as she crosses her arms over her chest grumpily, slumping down onto the ground fully, her bottom fitting in the space between her calves. “It’s not my fault! They’ve added so many more buttons since the last time I handled one.”

Persephone watches with a type of begrudging wonder as Harry turns a few knobs and slides his thumb over a small disk that clicks with every rotation. He looks through the tiny glass square at the top of the camera, focusing the lense on her and turning it slowly with professional ease.

“There we go.” He sighs giddily, stepping forward and extending the shiny black Canon toward his awaiting wife. His voice comes out warningly, but playfully so. “Now don’t go messing with the settings or I’ll have to do it all over again.”

“Now don’t go messing with the settings or I’ll have to do it all over again.” Y/N mocks in an irritated, high-pitched tone, yanking the equipment piece from his grasp and starring down at the minute screen. “I’ll do what I bloody please.”

Hades bends down so that they are level, setting his forearms on his knees and tilting his head slightly to the side teasingly. A single eyebrow kinks upwards, getting lose beneath a few curls that hang over his forehead (he’s been letting his hair grow out recently). “S’that so?”

“Yup. I’m gonna chuck this thing into the River Styx.”

Harry reaches a hand forward, cupping her jaw in his fingers and swiping his thumb over the faint dimple that curves at the center of her chin. “I love it when you’re a helpless little menace. Means you need me that much more.”

“Oh, fuck off!” Persephone scoffs, shoving his hand away by his wrist and glaring at him as he giggles boyishly.

“You know I love you, pet. It’s all in good fun.”

It takes a couple of minutes, but eventually Y/N manages to get a feel for how the camera works, fiddling with it as Harry mulls over what poses he should do for the impromptu photoshoot he’d decided on out of nowhere.

He had been up in the mortal world earlier that day, strolling through a shopping mall casually while thinking over his layout for the upcoming Halloween party up on Olympus. He was in charge of planning this year and it’d be utterly embarrassing if the god of the Dead delivered anything less than a bone-chilling extravaganza.

Hades had been entertaining the idea of a blood fountain instead of a chocolate fountain (he knows Zeus would never go for it, but he still wanted to suggest it) when he had stopped dead in his tracks in front of a store he had never seen before.

It was new, obvious in how shiny and pristine the interior looked through the spotless tall glass windows. The framework on the gilded doors was imprinted with images of exotic animals— lions, tigers, dragons— and glittered under the sunlight that streamed in from the glass dome that was at the center of the shopping mall.

Even more breathtaking than the exterior was the interior. Specifically, the clothing.

Racks upon racks of suits, shirts, pants, and accessories lined the store, the fabrics shimmering, looking expensive and custom-made and suited for a king, which he happened to be.

Hades felt light-headed for a second as his eyes trailed across a certain tuxedo jacket with a midnight blue background and silver flowers embroidered into the silk, the thread twinkling as if diamonds had been mixed into the material. Across the torso of the item, golden frills draped the sharp shoulders of the article, overlapped by an exaggerated black velvet collar that that folded grandly. On either sides of the oversized collar are two gilded metal lion head pins, studded with an array of jewels of all different colors— red, green, blue, yellow, and even lilac.

The tuxedo hugged a cloth manikin, which sported a starch white button-up beneath with a giant gemmed cross in the center. The whole look tied together beautifully and Harry then noticed that there was literal drool gathering along the inside of his bottom lip.

He’d wanted that suit and he wanted it now.

Hades only took a second to glance up at the giant neon Times New Roman letters that hovered above the entrance to the store, making a note of the name so he could go online and fawn over more clothes later.

GUCCI.

Walking in, Harry didn’t look like much. Just a young man in loose beige trousers, a pair of black boots, and a plain white t-shirt with the collar and sleeves bordered by dark blue accents. He quite liked the minimalist approach when he wondered the mortal world; he liked feeling like one of them.

But apparently, the woman at the register wasn’t too fond of his look, giving him a distasteful once-over and assuming that he was in a store-front that was heavily out of his league. The cheapest thing on stock cost no less than two grand and, frankly, the most expensive item the lean boy was wearing looked to cost not even a twelfth of that. She didn’t want some wannabe hipster wasting her time.

Little did she know Harry was anything but.

Hades had made a beeline for the outfit that had captured his heart, brushing his fingers along the fabric softly with care, almost of if he were afraid to disturb it. His array of rings gleamed under the buttery lights of the chandelier in the store, reflecting how he felt inside as the silk tickled the pads of his digits.

“Gods, it’s beautiful.” He had mumbled under his breath, thumb kissing the studded surface of one of the bejeweled tiger heads.

“It sure is.” The cashier had piped up with a faux sugary tone coating her voice, coming up behind him and trying to refrain from telling him to leave. “It’s expensive, as well.”

Harry had not even cast her a mere glance, continuing to admire the work of art before him. When he spoke up, his voice was distant, wistful, and somehow unconcerned at the reality check the lady was trying to implement. “How much?”

“Thirty-five thousand.”

There was a pause in the perfumed air and the employee almost smirked.

“I’ll take it.”

The worker then had blinked once, shocked into a stupefied silence. So shocked, in fact, that she can only comprehend this man’s words as some type of joke or prank. She had then reiterated.

“Thirty-five thousand up front, sir.”

Harry had then finally turned towards her to exchange stares for the first time, his thick brows pinched into an expression of unamused annoyance. “Yes, and I said I’ll take it. Is it not your job to do as the customer requests?”

“Yes, but—“

“Then ring me up, please and thank you.” He states with flat finality, fishing his wallet out of his back pocket. “And preferably now. I have somewhere to be.”

Harry can truly say that his favorite thing in the world— mortal, under, and godly— is the look on a person’s face when they realize Harry’s true stature. Not so much that he was a celestial being, but that he has a bank account that suggests he’s anything but your typical human.

Being the god of Death comes with its perks, including the title as god of riches and jewels since most of the rare gems lay beneath the ground, in Harry’s territory. Exchanging them for mortal money was not an issue at all.

Hades can’t help but scoff as the lady’s eyes had widened when his purchase went through, looking down at his debit card as if it had grown a hydra head. Her voice had come out tight and embarrassed. “Would you like your receipt?”

Harry had taken the hanger from her grasp, pushing his messy hair out of his eyes and cocking his head to the side mockingly. “I’m fine, thank you. Won’t be needing it.”

And that had landed him where he is now, strolling back and forth casually amongst Persephone’s most unique beds of floral and fauna, clad in his new outfit. It had fit him perfectly, as most things tended to do. It hugs his figure in all the right places, accentuating his strong shoulders and enthralling back muscles, tapering in at his waist and resting against his thick chest like it was tailored specifically to him.

As Y/N positions herself accordingly with the camera he had bought right after making the Gucci purchase, Harry decides that this suit will go down on his list of things that he loves to reside in. It’s a pretty small list: His palace, his crown, this look, and his wife.

Yeah, he definitely loves being inside all of those, some more than others. And especially all at the same time…but that’ll come after the photoshoot, if he has anything to do with it.

“Are you ready, darling?” Harry speaks up from his spot before a large tree with maroon leaves that sparkle like the stars.

“Yeah, get the goats ready!”

“Swell.” Harry sing-songs, bringing his diamond and gold ring-clad fingers to his lips and tucking his middle and thumb inside his mouth, releasing three quick spurts of whistles.

It takes a few moments, but then there is a faint shimmering in the air before him and a bright flash, from which three baby goats emerge, clobbering after one another, midway through a game of what appears to be tag.

“There you are, you little buggers.” Harry scoops up one of the magical goats— a silver one that shimmers exactly how the thread in his jacket does— settling it into the crook of his elbow and pressing a gentle kiss between its velvety ears. “Pan would kill me if I lost you guys. Threatened a reed pipe up my ass.”

The pearly goat looks up at him innocently with its big golden irises, releasing a curious bleat.

Harry doesn’t speak goat (it’s more of a nature god trait) so he just assumes the animal is praising him for his clothing taste and thanks it with a few scratches behind its tiny head.

Hades trails towards a certain rock formation that he thinks looks sturdy enough to sit on, the other two goats trailing behind him happily, hooves thudding giddily against the aromatic grass and stirring up the diamond sand beneath.

He sits down in his designated spot, scooting backwards until he’s fully balanced on the boulder, propping up one of his boots on a dip in the rock. “Perfect. Now I’ll just…”

Harry carefully takes one of the other baby goats into his big hand— a chocolate brown male whose horns are just beginning to bud, the keratin glinting with a certain iridescence that suggests the little guy isn’t just any ordinary farm animal.

He places the boy next to his lap, where the creature sniffs at his thigh hesitantly before deciding it is a worthy pillow. The goat folds its legs beneath its body, laying down nonchalantly and snuggling its head against Harry’s upper leg.

“You like the casual look, don’t you?” Harry coos, patting it lovingly, to which the lamb responds with a soft, satisfied bleat.

“Alright, two accounted for. Now, where’s your other sister…” Hades looks around, a small pinprick of panic knotting his stomach as he can’t seem to spot the last goat anywhere.

“Y/N, have you seen—“ Before he can finish his question, he gets his answer.

Persephone is sitting cross-legged on the ground a few feet away, the camera discarded carelessly beside her, replaced by the last animal that his friend had lent him. His wife is carrying the goat in her arms like a child, rocking it ever-so slightly as she kisses between its lilac-tinted eyes, giggling every time the goat blinks its long lashes.

Y/N rubs her fingers through the buck’s golden fur, tracing the spots of sparkly grey that are sprinkled in certain places. “Aren’t you just the prettiest girl? Yes, you are! And you smell so nice, too. Y’like lavender, huh? Me too.”

Harry can practically see the goat preening in Persephone’s arms, obvious from how she actively seeks out his wife’s palm and cradles her head into it, licking at her fingers.

“Babe!” He hates to interrupt, but they really should get to shooting. “Pan said we have to have them back by 8! We gotta hurry.”

“Right, right, sorry!” Y/N sets the baby animal down on the ground, pointing towards her husband and encouraging her to go over with its siblings.

When Hades finally has all of the lambs situated accordingly (he’d placed the last one beside his other thigh), Persephone begins flashing the photos.

He hasn’t modeled in a while— not since his last self-portrait, which was around sixty years or so ago when he was painted by his good friend, Pablo Picasso. That man really knew his angles. He visits him in Elysium every once in a while.

Harry tries to imitate what he’s seen in fashion shows on television and in episodes of America’s Next Top Model (those girls were fucking fierce, for Zeus’ sake), pouting his lips slightly and looking at different points in space to flex his best sides. He tilts his gold laurel crown back a bit, pushing his curls out of his face to get a cleaner picture, staring directly at the camera with his lips parted in a smize and it amuses him to no end when he sees the flowers next to Y/N’s feet grow a little bigger.

At one point, the goat in his arms reaches up and bops its nose against his chin in a kiss, the cold tip of its snout causing Harry’s face to scrunch up as a boyish giggle escapes the corners of his lips. “S’cold, stop it!”

Y/N’s heart nearly melts right out of her, then and there, as she clicks the scene as many times as the camera will allow.

The photos come out pretty decent and she’s surprised that there were so few she butchered (there was an incident where the camera wasn’t flashing and she turned it around to see if the lense was open and ended up getting a high definition image of her nostrils instead).

After all is said and done, Harry opens a portal into Olympus, herding the goats through by patting there behinds gently. “I’ll see you guys another time! Tell Pan thank you! And Acacia, please stop gnawing on your brother’s horns. Thank you.”

Hades swings an arm around Persephone, looking over her shoulder as she clicks through the photos, feeling his ego inflate a bit.

“I look good, don’t I?”

She doesn’t catch his smug tone immediately, too focused on tampering with the lighting on one of the pictures. “Yeah, you look great, honey.”

“Mm,” he presses his lips to her temple, puckering soft kisses along her skin and up the line of her eyebrow, “did this suit justice. Best thirty-five grand I’ve ever spent.”

Y/N pauses her actions, craning her neck to the side to look at him, her eyebrows shooting up in mild surprise. ”Thirty-five grand?”

Harry pouts childishly at her scolding tone. “Am I not allowed to splurge on myself every once in a while?”

“Of course you can. But that’s enough to buy a fucking car, Harry. And you spent it on a single tux?”

Hades looks down at the metal tips of his burgundy leather boots, eyelashes fluttering in an embarrassed manner. “I really wanted it, though!”

Persephone sighs, turning fully to press a peck to his plumped lips. “It’s alright, baby. As long as you’re happy, then.”

The edges of Harry’s lips tilt up into a sheepish grin. “I’m happy, yeah. Feel like a right king.”

“Good, cause you are.” She reaches up and drags the pad of her index finger down the curved bridge of his nose and along his jaw, using the single digit to guide his head upwards, where she locks their lips in a few quick, wet kisses. “My handsome lord.”

Harry’s tongue wonders out to lick at the corner of his mouth slyly, feeling the inside of his chest grow warm. “Love it when you call me your lord.”

“Yeah?” Persephone blinks up at him with hooded eyes, her own pretty lips tilting up into a suggestive grin. “Why’s that?”

Harry’s hands coast up here hips, fisting lightly at her dress as his voice drops an octave. “It’s so fuckin’ hot.”

“Fitting, since that’s exactly what you are.” Y/N murmurs, draping her arms over his hard shoulders, hands pressed across the expanse of his upper back, one holding the camera tightly while the other runs over the silky material of the suit coat.

And now is one of those moments Y/N had mentioned before, where she can see Harry’s narcissism starting to flare up.

It’s evident in the way he’s suckling his bottom lip, batting his eyelashes in a sultry, rhythmic pace that suggests lascivious intentions. In how his neck veins are flexing alluringly in an attempt to seduce. In how he tilts his head to the side a bit to draw his jaw taunt. In how a watery, verdurous glint washes across the whites of his eyes for a millisecond.

Y/N slides one hand up the back of his neck into the curls along the nape, tangling them between her fingers and tugging at them in a quick, rough manner that jets his chin upwards and pulls his throat tight over his Adam’s apple.

Harry releases a quiet hum at the harsh movement, basking in the way his scalp tingles and in the way the tendons underneath his jaw stretch. His mouth parts in a small, open-mouthed simper, dimples peeking through his cheeks.

“What was tha’ for?” He swallows thickly, not being able to hide it as his Adam’s Apple bobs heavily.

“Nothing, really. Just know you like it.” Y/N laps fully at the center of his juglar, blowing over it lightly. ”My lord.”

”Fucking hell.” Hades growls, ripping himself from her grasp and grabbing her hand almost savagely, yanking her towards the exit of the garden that heads directly to the palace.

Y/N scrambles along, barely being able to keep up with his long strides. She already knows the answer, but she asks anyways just to toy with her husband.

“Where are we going?”

“Don’t play fucking dumb with me, pet.” Harry throws a look over his shoulder, the corner of his mouth curling into a seductive sneer. “You know damn well where we’re going and what I’m gonna do to you.”

Y/N flutters her eyelashes at him innocently, her lips pouty. “What are we gonna do?”

“We’re gonna do another photoshoot. A nude edition.”

#hades!harry #drabble

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paladin-andric · 5 years

Text

Jotober, Day 15: Legend

Yeah, today was a rough day. Have a reworking of an old short, a legend about a demigod family that serves God. It is said this night happened during the exile of the trickster god Cuan...

Walking through a forest, a lone koutu admired his surroundings. While he could easily fly to where he wished, he instead chose to waltz through one of the few forests in his homeland. It was nice to admire the beauty of nature every once in a while, even if it meant leaving the skies and slowing his pace.

As he ran his hand on the bark of a large red oak tree, a sudden noise from behind him made him whip around in surprise.

It was the noise of rustling leaves, and before him stood the culprit. A large serpent was hanging from one of the branches of another tree. The creature stared at him, those eyes seeming far too focused on him for some dumb animal…

“Oh, goodness! You startled me!” The birdman let out a nervous laugh.

The serpent moved its head to one side, and then back to the other. It swayed back and forth, slowly and rhythmically. The koutu noted how bizarre this was, and felt a touch afraid of the creature, and yet he couldn’t look away. Its swaying was bordering on hypnotic, and was enthralling to witness.

Suddenly, the birdman noticed how its scales gleamed and shimmered in the sunlight, reflecting as it moved into brief patches of light in the dense forest.

“You’re…beautiful…” the man muttered, eyes locked on the serpent.

“Why thank you.”

Even in a quasi-trance, the man’s eyes suddenly shot open wide. Finally able to tear his eyes away from the snake, he looked all around him, finding no one.

“W-who…who said that?!” he cried, shivering in fear.

“Who else but I?”

The voice came from directly in front of him. The koutu felt a pit deep in his stomach as he slowly turned his head back forward. The serpent still hung in front of him from the branch, but its demeanor had changed. It was now leaning forward towards the man, mouth open with its fangs spread in a predatory grin.

The birdman quivered and shook as he came to the realization.

“W-what’s…happening…?”

The serpent’s grin widened. Its eyes suddenly faded from view as a brilliant, glowing white aura filled them. “Why, I have come to a decision, my friend…”

In a moment, it flung itself from the branch, its long body catapulting itself onto the bird, suddenly coiling around the bird’s neck.

“I HAVE COME FOR YOU!” The voice boomed, dramatically lowering in pitch. The koutu shrieked in terror before bolting out of the forest as the serpent fell to the ground.

The creature laughed heartily as it flopped about on the ground, uproarious howling echoing throughout the forest. A sudden crunch of leaves made the creature pause in its laughter.

“Tormenting the mortals again, are we?”

The serpent turned and saw him. A koutu, at first glance…until one noticed the white, glowing eyes. He was dressed in elaborate, fanciful robes, as they all were.

“Ah, Uncle Cabrus! A marvelous day, is it not?”

The man groaned. “Come now, Cuan. Must you harass the mortals so?”

“A simple set of pranks and tricks, uncle Cabrus! No one is getting hurt.”

“You’ll give someone a heart attack eventually, Cuan.”

The serpent grinned. “Perhaps one of you should use your godly powers to revive them!”

Cabrus’ beak stiffened. “Cuan!”

“A jest, a jest!” He laughed.

“You should treat the people with respect! I know you must resent this all, but that’s no excuse to terrorize the countryside!”

Cuan frowned. “Resent? What are you talking about?”

“Come on, now! Being stuck down here, forced into the form of a serpent as punishment!”

“It was quite well worth it,” Cuan snickered.

Cabrus grumbled. “Do not remind me.”

“Oh come on! You can’t tell me being a griffin wasn’t fun!”

“It-” Cabrus paused. His nephew grinned like a loon as the god looked away nervously.

“…very well, it may have had some…unforeseen value as an…engaging form, but my point stands! You are lashing out because of your anger!”

If he had brows, the serpent would be raising them in amusement. “I am not angry, uncle. Not in the slightest.”

Cabrus’ composure wavered slightly. “You…what?”

Cuan shook his head. “I’ve accepted it, fully! I’m only trying to have a bit of fun while I wait, is all!”

“…really?”

“Yes!” the serpent exclaimed, “You’ve already seen what I’m doing, haven’t you? It’s great down here! Just having a spot of innocent fun to make the time go by! The mortals are quite lively and amusing…no wonder you love spending so much time down here with them!”

Cabrus’ gaze softened. “You mean…you do not resent me?”

“Oh, of course not!” Cuan laughed, “I played a nasty trick on you, and I got it payed back onto me! These repercussions are deserved. Besides…we’re family. No hard feelings, right?”

“Than…why’d you do it?”

The serpent went to shrug, before realizing he had no shoulders. “Well…I thought it was funny. Wasn’t trying to hurt you or anything, honest!”

The god frowned. He looked down at the serpent with a degree of regret.

“I…” He sighed. “…right. No hard feelings. I feel no lingering anger towards you, nephew. All is forgiven.”

“That’s great!” Cuan exclaimed, “So…what are you doing down here, anyway? I know you didn’t come just to see my lovely self,” he said with a sly smile.

“Why, what I always do, Cuan…there’s a festival at the capital again!”

Cuan laughed. The god loved disguising himself as a mortal and attending festivals. It was so well known even the mortal koutu knew of his reputation as a party-goer.

“Well…if you’re going, can you…take me with you?”

Cabrus looked at the serpent in shock. “W-what?! Why?”

“Why do you think I play tricks on people?!” Cuan said with a flick of his tail, “Because it’s fun! A festival sounds like fun, too! I’ve never gotten to get close to the mortals during my punishment, because of, well…my form…but with you, you can go under the guise of a snake charmer! I’ll finally be able to see what all the fuss is about!”

Cabrus’ eyes narrowed. “If this is some sort of trick…”

“Than you can double my punishment!” Cuan said confidently.

The god clicked his talons together in thought.

“…very well…but you had better be on your best behavior!” the older god said forcefully, picking up the serpent and placing him on his shoulder. Cuan wrapped himself around the neck of his uncle as he raised his head up in excitement.

“No funny business, honest!” he said with a big, innocent smile, “Thank you for taking me, uncle Cabrus!”

“It is no trouble…” Cabrus began walking out of the forest, headed towards the capital city of the Koutu Kingdom. The light faded from his eyes as he took on the guise of a mortal.

Unbeknownst to him, his nephew’s innocent smile had shifted into a mischievous grin. He didn’t intend to sit idly by at a festival, not at all. This was his only shot to cause a scene so massive the mortal world would speak of it for centuries to come! To imagine the pandemonium that could be caused with a city full of mortals as opposed to the tricks he played on lone travelers…to think of the look on his uncle’s face! Sure, he’d take the serpent’s words to heart and double his punishment to a century…but that was fine. Cuan would take it in stride.

All for a bit of fun.

…

Cabrus ran through the streets, eyes darting from side to side as he rushed to find the trickster.

During the festival, some of the koutu had began complaining that they felt sick.

“I don’t feel so good.”

One of the citizens had mumbled it some time after he began drinking the mead being handed out.

Cabrus caught on immediately. The people were beginning to come down with something after taking from the mead stores provided for the festival. Cuan must have spiked the drinks with something!

The god couldn’t have predicted what happened next.

Suddenly, some of the ill people began to…change. Feathers fell away, talons grew into claws, and their beaks and bodies warped as they grew into massive beasts…

Several frightened, extremely confused dragons were currently crashing into and tripping over buildings and houses as they scrambled about clumsily, unused to these massive forms.

“I’m sorry! I’m sorry!” one of the beasts cried as it leveled a temple while some of the unchanged koutu cried out in horror. Several more accidentally trampled houses and crushed walls in their scramble to escape the city before they ruined it any further.

Cabrus raised his arms into the air as he shouted to the heavens.

“CUUUUUUUUUUUAAAAAAAAAAAAAAN!”

Only a giddy laugh answered him.

Tag list: @thereisnothingwrongwithbeingmad, @lady-redshield-writes, @paper-shield-and-wooden-sword, @sheralynnramsey, @tawnywrites, @writer-on-time, @oceanwriter, @zwergis-spilledink, @fluffpiggy, @elliewritesfantasy, @homesteadchronicles, @laurenwastestimewriting, @elaynab-writing, @the-ichor-of-ruination, @candy687, @fierywords, @shewrites-sometimes, @nerds-and-nebulae, @purpleshadows1989

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kinsbin · 5 years

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Raiden’s Greeting

Title: Raiden’s Greeting Ship: Raiden/Alexys [Mentions of Alexys/Johnny Cage/Kuai Liang [Self Insert/Canon] Word Count: 2028 Summary: While waiting for her boyfriends to return home from a special mission, Alexys gets a visit from an unlikely god at the Special Forces base camp. He proceeds to take...something of a liking to her.

A/N: Another commission for @bad-blue-moon-rising! This one is more focused on Raiden, who is a vERY GOOD SHIP WITH HER 10/10 WOULD GUSH ABOUT TO HER IT’S SO WORTH IT.

Alexys took a breath, exhaling with the slightest of annoyances as she tapped her fingers aimlessly on the cold steel table stretched out before her. The quiet of the military base was interrupted only on occasion by the soft ticking and beeps of monitors surrounding her, the surveillance and meeting room otherwise empty besides the warmth of the machinery. Under both Johnny and Kuai’s orders, she was to remain in the base and within its protection. Both men were terrified of losing the woman and it showed in the way their eyes sparkled with pain as she disagreed with them, saying how she wanted to be at their side no matter what the outcome of their battles with other realms brought about.

It took both of them embracing her, their heads resting on either side of hers and a slow explanation of their fear of loss towards her for Alexys to finally agree, the pout on her lips still there but her eyes sympathetic as she nodded. Her hands held both of theirs tight before they finally slipped away, both of their gazes reassuring on her heart as Johnny declared how, soon, they would be back for her and ready to make up for any lost time they had together. Even those words made Kuai chuckle as they exited, the steel door shutting tight behind them.

Later in the day others left too. Jaqui and Cassie moving on with Takeda and Jax to pursue more missions under squadron command and Sonya soon announcing that she needed to give backup to a squad somewhere on the other side of the military endeavor that was having trouble with a legion of Netherrealm goons. Alexys allowed them to go with a smile on her lips, assuring them that it would be fine if she was alone for a while until they all returned.

Now, however, in the otherwise monotone environment with the steady beeping of machines and cold metal encasing her like a cage, she felt claustrophobic. The loneliness was jarring, easily attacking the back of her mind as she tried to push it away but failed miserably through its snarking words and intense pressure. That pressure seemed to fill up her lungs as she fiddled with her fingers, her phone doing nothing to entertain her since she had long beaten all the games she had downloaded on it. There wasn’t good signal in the area, anyways, considering it was a military operation. Outside forces were kept at an easy limit, much to her dismay. Couldn’t they at least keep her safe somewhere in the outside world? Maybe with a wifi connection and a plethora of videos to binge for a later date? Another sigh escaped her lips at he thought as she put the device down and rested her head on her arm with an incohesive grumble.

She would just have to wait...yeah...some fun waiting was when she was the only one there.

As if on cue the air electrified around her. Alexys felt the tingle of it in her skin, goosebumps rising as the hair on her arms grew stiff with friction. She watched them with wide, confused eyes as she felt her body tingle. Her fingers twitched against her will and she bit her lip, head tilting in confusion at the events going on. She caught the glimpse of her hair rising and shifting with the waves of electricity apparently sparking vehemently around her body. Everything felt so much more all at once that she wasn’t sure what to make of it. Panic pounded hard in her heart as she turned around, the sound of distant crackling growing more and more intense with every passing second.

Without warning, a crash echoed through the military base. The sound of thunder burned loud in her skull, ringing it loudly as her brain rattled against either side. The intensity of the sudden electrical onslaught caused the mortal girl to scream in surprise, backing up on her chair only to feel it catch on the floor beneath it. With a slow tip of itself backwards, Alexys found herself on the ground in just moments. Her back and tailbone burned with the pain of having being landed on, the groan escaping her lips a deaf noise under the secondary crackle of red lightning that summoned forth a silhouette from its very recesses.

Grey eyes widened as they watched the appearance of a silhouette in the smoke of the room sauntered forward. Lighting revealed it to be a face she had never seen in real life, but, knew close enough to have the inkling suspicion of just who it was.

Johnny and Kuai both had told her stories of the godly protector of earth realm, yet, for some reason it felt as though Raiden looked different than what she had pictured in her mind. The mind, of course, was a poor thing to rely on when the set in stone looks of others was brought about certainly, but regardless her surprise was still there. It was painted across her eyes along with her fear as Raiden cast his gaze from side to side, brows furrowing with frustration at the lack of people within the room. At last, however, they followed the trail of the fallen chair next to the table, towards the phone that had clattered off of the edge at some point, and finally settled on the long haired human staring in surprise at his being.

“You,” He demanded sharply, “Who are you? Where are the commanders of the Special Forces Unit? Answer me.”

Alexys stuttered for a few moments between the questions, her words dying on her throat until the man ceased his sharp questioning and stared her down with an arched white eyebrow. His eyes were gorgeous, she had decided after a moment as her jaw dropped despite herself, his face so smooth and mature. Yet...young despite the age she was sure the god was. After the time of admiration passed, however, Alexys sat up a little bit straighter and gestured around the room with one hand, using the other to keep herself perched up as she replied:

“Uh-um! I’m Alexys, uh, Johnny Cage and Kuai Liang’s girlfriend and-well-they’re all out on a mission and thought I would be safest here so, uh, I’m on watch I guess? No, that’s not right. I’m not actually a military official I just kind of go here. Not ‘go’ here, really, I just! They’ll be back in like an hour or two if that helps?”

HIs mouth opened wide as his brows furrowed, the serious body language causing Alexys to flinch away in terror that she would receive the wrath of the god without necessarily invoking it. Tears sprung in the corners of her eyes for a moment as she bit her lip, waiting for the verbal snark to arrive swiftly. Raiden saw this and his heart, still rough and tumbled from the abuse Earthrealm had weathered, softened the slightest. She was, after all, a citizen under him. A mortal who lived on the planet he had sworn to protect and, as a result, was a being he was to treat fairly.

He took in a breath as he approached her, leaning down to offer a hand out in her position. Alexys looked on from the hand and towards the man with confusion, as if not quite understanding what he wanted out of her. Patiently, Raiden continued to hold out his hand for her until she finally understood the gesture. Placing her own in it, Alexys allowed the Thunder God to take her hand in his own and pull her into an upright position at his side.

“I...apologize for startling you like that,” Raiden mumbled, “You are of Earthrealm, and I mean you no harm from it. I simply have urgent matters to discuss with Johnny Cage and Kuai Liang both. You said they were...your boyfriends correct?”

The word held confusion in its tone, but, it wasn’t anything Alexys wasn’t surprised at. Most had reacted that way towards she and her two men when first being told. Smiling, she gave a nod to the god before her and gestured somewhere vaguely in the distance, her mind momentarily wandering as she explained almost on instinct:

“Yeah, both of them...They love me a lot and, well, Johnny believes in polyamory more than most. So we all make it work, I suppose. Either way, you’re welcome to wait with me here if you want...I’m sure they’ll be back soon.”

Her voice was soft in its last explanation, blush coating her face as she averted her gaze from Raiden for a few moments. Stupid, she realized in the back of her mind, how stupid was that! To explain to an ancient god about polyamory and then invite him to hang out with you while your boyfriends are out? He certainly must hae thought of her as a fool in any case. There was no way-

“Johnny Cage is a man whose heart spans wider than most,” Raiden seemed to agree after a moment, “Very well, I will wait here with you.”

“You will?” Alexys sounded incredulous.

As if to prove his point, Raiden rolled a nearby chair up and sat down on it, arms crossed as his eyes closed, hiding the red glow of their light from the human at his side as she, too, picked the chair that she had fallen from up and sat in it. The two sat in silence for a long moment, Alexys staring at the God before her and the God, in turn, remaining pensive and quiet. She wondered how time worked in his mind...Would this be long, or short in comparison? Would he mind the wait, or push it away with annoyance later?

“I didn’t get...your name,” Alexys finally spoke up softly, “Even though I gave you mine.”

“Surely you know of me if your significant others are Johnny Cage and Kuai Liang.”

His tone of voice was teasing and Alexys could spot the slightest hint of a smirk rolling itself against his lips. She couldn’t help but giggle at the way he spoke, the lightheartedness of it small but so different in comparison to her first impression of him. Perhaps there was something in him that made him, at the very least, amusing to be around? For the sake of her and other humans?

“It seems to have slipped my mind,” She retorted wickedly, leaning on the palm of her hand as she arched an eyebrow.

Raiden raised his own, a challenging look to the one she offered up behind her chorus of soft laughs and teasing hums. The noises she made were pleasant, he realized with a moderate shock to himself, as his cheeks warmed and were hidden by the glowing red of his eyes. How could one human make such a pleasant noise? Her mouth was curled so easily into a sweet smile, he almost regretted taking it away from them the first moment they had met. Half of him wanted to wait in his response, to see just what she would do if he didn’t answer her teasing question. Or what if he had teased another word in response? Something about it seemed like an interesting endeavor with her.

Instead, however, he relented.

“I am called Raiden.”

This seemed to introduce an opportunity that made Alexys’ eyes twinkle with delight.

“Nice to meet you, then, ‘Called Raiden’.”

The groan that left his lips wasn’t intentional, but, it was enough to make Alexys laugh in amusement, her free hand covering her mouth to try ands top the noises but fail miserably.

“I can see how Johnny Cage would like you...And how you might make Kuai smile.”

Alexys felt her face heat up in the form of a blush at the compliment, her hand falling from her lips to show it to the God, who appreciated the gaze she was giving him with moderate pride swelling in his stomach. He may not have gotten just who he wanted to see, but, Alexys certainly wasn’t bad company.

He wondered how these feelings would blossom, but ignored them for now. They would get there in time, as all things did.

#self insert #self ship #self shipping #writing commission #kinley writes #mortal kombat #mkx #mk11 #raiden

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universes-capturecard-blog · 6 years

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scar (07/01/18)

His chest was covered in what looked like claw marks, and on his back, there were two spaces between his shoulder blades that were smooth and red; they stretched slightly out to his sides, as if something had been on his back and the skin had been torn off when it was removed. His blond hair held a ring of smoky black, like it had been burned and the boy didn’t bother to fix the mess. No one had ever seen the scars, and that was the way he wanted to keep it, and he always came up with the excuse that it was a dye job gone south. No one knew the story, and even the rest of his kind didn’t know the whole story, or had seen the scars that he wore.

The story wasn’t gruesome at first. It wasn’t even a story, it was just his life. The boy had grown up running around in the golden roads of Heaven, watching as his halo glowed brighter and brighter with every birthday he had, seeing his wings ruffle in the wind that always seemed to follow him. Everyone loved him as he grew up, almost no one thought that he could do anything wrong. In fact, most of the angels in Heaven thought that he was the purest of them all. God even called to him multiple times to take care of some Earthly business, ones that the archangels like Michael and Gabriel took care of. He was flying with the big shots by the time he was a teenager, and that was big - it meant that he had power, and he always used it for good.

Except one time.

It was the middle of the winter, and the boy was told to guard over a girl his age; she had been suicidal, and his job was to watch her and send thoughts her way to guide her through the problems instead of hurting herself. For the first few nights, it worked. He kept her away from the things that she’d normally want to do, and she seemed to be getting better as if by some kind of miracle (of course, he was the miracle). About a week in, though, her demons starting coming back. He’d see them out of the corner of his eye, see them in the shadows during the middle of the night - one time he’d even seen one sliding into bed with her and slither under the mattress when it saw him. Sometimes, he would manage to banish them, but the small apartment was starting to get crowded. So, the boy did the sensible thing - he fought.

There was a day when her thoughts were darker than when he had first come down from Heaven. She was on the brink of just ending it, and everyone in her life could tell. The demons in the house kept coaxing her towards the edge, and that was when the boy decided that he was done. He was going to fight the demons, kill them if he had to. Yes, killing was against the rules, even when it came to demons, but he had to help this girl. It helped him with his objective, and if he could somehow get her out of this funk by sacrificing a few of Hell’s servants? Then he’d do it.

The boy took his halo from above his head and closed his eyes, feeling as the thin metal turned into a thick handle. When he opened his eyes, there was a golden sword in his hand, made of holy metal, which would kill a demon with one foul swoop. Even the light startled the shadows that had come to take up every wall of the apartment complex, but by then, they weren’t shadows. What had taken their places were the people that had once been good, but were corrupted by Hell and everything that could possibly be unholy. A mix of men and women, all surrounding him, now with weapons that the boy had never seen before.

My chance of winning is one in one thousand, but if I can just get rid of enough of them, maybe they’ll all leave, he thought to himself, standing in a defensive position.

Within seconds, it started.

Two of the demons moved in, wielding what looked like some twisted version a katana and a some kind of other sword that looked like even the best blacksmith couldn’t recreate it. Metal clashed metal, skin sizzling as the light from the boy’s sword burned the demons where they stood. The boy was cut a few times, but managed to rid of the first two, just as three more came forward, carrying similar weapons of the first two. The girl he was supposed to be guarding looked confused, but still slightly more relaxed than before - he was thankful that she couldn’t see or hear anything that was going on. He watched from his peripheral vision as she walked towards the kitchen, a small breath of air leaving his mouth in relief. She was leaving the room, which would make things infinitely better, because if she wasn’t near the demons, their energy towards her wouldn’t be as strong.

The fight continued, demon after demon being slaughtered. The boy used the sword and whatever extra godly power he could muster, trying to destroy every big of evil in the room. He was working off of an adrenaline and power rush, everything going to his head. He felt that his face was flushed and hot, his breathing heavy from what he had done. The bodies that were on the floor slowly vanished into dust, all of it floating lower, back towards Hell, or maybe Purgatory. Wherever dead demon souls went.

He walked to the kitchen to see if the girl looked better again, and to feel what energy came from her - if it was light, then she would be fine for the time being, and back to recovery. But, as he walked through the threshold, he stopped cold.

The young girl was laying on the floor, with glassy eyes and a paling face. He ran to her side, not noticing the shadow that was standing by the wall, that mysteriously took the shape of a person, a demon. Before he could even turn to notice it, the demon vanished into the shadows, back to whatever pit in Hell it came from.

The boy’s human that he was supposed to guard and help had died on his watch. There was now mortal blood on his hands, and he knew that the people of Heaven wouldn’t be happy, much less God himself. But, he needed to go back to explain himself, plead innocent on the trial that would inevitably take place, and hope that his people would look back at all of the work he had done over the course of life and take it into consideration.

Before he left, he sent a premonition over the girl’s family, hoping they would take it into their minds as something serious. Taking a deep breath, he let his sword fall back to a halo, and take its place over his head again.

***

A figure was waiting for him at the large golden gates leading into Heaven. Immediately, he knew who it was - God, and the righteous man was flanked by the archangels Michael, Raphael, and Gabriel. They held disapproving looks, with crossed arms and furrowed eyebrows. As the boy came closer, Michael stepped forward.

“Damian. We heard of your offenses. The trial will be held later today, but for now, you will have to come with us. Don’t worry - for now, we just want to talk. The other archangels and the leaders of the guardians are setting up the courthouse. But let those thoughts leave for now. Relax. Come.”

The boy, Damian, walked slightly ahead Michael, out of respect for the fact that they didn’t trust him anymore. It made sense - he had killed demons, and let a human die on his watch, both of which were highly illegal in Heaven. It was in the ten commandments for God’s sake.

It took a while to get to the marble mansion that sat directly in the center of Heaven’s property since they were walking instead of flying. God led the crew, with angels they passed bowing towards them. To everyone else, this was just the angel’s strongest five people walking together for some kind of...get together. They knew better.

As they entered the mansion, God turned his head to Damian.

“My boy, what is the sixth commandment that I have made for angels and humans alike?”

Damian hesitated, watching his feet walk towards a small meeting area. God’s office, almost.

“Thou shall not kill,” he muttered, letting his bangs fall into his face. The feet in front of him stopped and turned. Fingers on his chin, forcing his gaze upon God himself. Damian couldn’t tell what the look on God’s face meant. It was a mix between anger, sadness, disappointment; everything that the man wasn’t known for. A blob of confusion mixed with fright filled the boy’s throat, causing him to keep from talking, and it seemed to choke him with every passing second. Choking to death would be better than having to stare at the older man’s expression at this point.

“Ah. I see your thoughts. You are scared. There is nothing to be frightened of, my boy. There is just punishment. You’ve broken one of my commandments, and you’ve been corrupted. The darkness that was brought upon you by the monsters you so ruthlessly killed -”

“I didn’t do it to be ruthless! That girl was practically being suffocated by all of those demons, I had to do something! Sir, they were becoming too much for her to bear, so I challenged them. I will apologize from the bottom of my heart and soul for the girl dying on my watch, but I cannot be sorry for diminishing the demons that took place in her. They needed to be rid of, they had to...had to…”

By then, Damian found that he couldn’t breathe. He fell to the floor, trying to gasp for air. As he looked up, he saw his halo in the grasp of God’s hand, watched it become crushed into golden dust. His head started to burn, the ring where the halo was before now turning into black. The dust from the halo fell to the floor in front of him, onto his free hand. He could hear God laugh faintly from above.

“My boy, you have sinned against me, and all of your people. Without begging, there can be no forgiveness, and it seems as though there will be no begging coming from even the air in your lungs. For this, you will be cast down, just as my son Lucifer was so long ago, to live with the demons that you fought so...valiantly,” the word left his lips with disgust and sarcasm, “and you will reign in the burning, fiery pits of Hell. Goodbye, my boy.”

With that, the floor and the clouds that were underneath Damian’s feet seemed to disappear. He was falling, gasping for air - the halos were like the angels life force, and with it crushed, it felt like he was dying. Even so, the feeling went away the closer he came to Hell, until he was breathing normally again. He fell on his wings, grunting at the impact.

The gates into Hell were gnarled and black, with what looked like thorns and spikes surrounding the bars. A feeling came over him, and Damian looked back just in time to see his wings turning from a shining and clean white to a smoky, coal looking black. A small breath escaped his lips, and where his halo would have been, there were now small horns.

Something snapped inside him then.

This is what you did to him. This is what you did to my brother, to Lucifer, to all the other angels that were ‘corrupted.’ You damned bitch, this is how you ruin lives of every holy being up there, he thought to himself, gritting his teeth and looking towards the red sky.

Out of the corner of his eye, he saw a swirl of smoke. A man dressed in a black suit and tie stood there. He held a cane that was plain metal, except for the fact that it had a snake coiled around it. While its body was immobile, the head moved around, the tongue flicking out every few seconds.

The man snapped, and Damian’s vision was obscured by more of the same smoke. When it dissipated, he was wearing all black, and a leather jacket. Really, he liked this look better than the white and gold that he was usually forced to wear.

“So. You’re Damian. Welcome to Hell. Name’s Lucifer. Listen, I’m on a tight schedule, so here’s the deal - I’m going to save you the shit of killing my men and doing whatever you used to do for good ole Dad up there, and you’re gonna go ruin some lives today. Go make a slut happy, kid,” he said, and was gone again almost immediately. It was surprising - Damian always thought that Satan would be this man sitting upon his throne with succubi surrounding him, not a man who had a schedule and actually did things.

But, he’d see that everyone else was much different after he stepped into the gates.

***

Damian didn’t make it a day. Every demon in Hell knew what he had done for God as an angel, and weren’t as forgiving about it either. He had missed a step and fallen into a pit, to which all of the souls trapped in it decided to scratch and claw at him, tearing his clothes and leaving marks that would never heal properly. Most of them were on his chest, leaving the claw mark scars that no one now knew the story of.

A week went by, and then two, and he did his best to do his worst. Even with his efforts, he was still too good for Hell. Everything he did seemed to have something that would benefit someone, and Lucifer was forgiving of it...the first five times.

Finally, the King’s temper snapped, and he called Damian into his own mansion. Instead of the business casual that he had usually worn, the man was in the same as all the other demons that resided in Hell. His arms were crossed and his face just held extreme annoyance.

“Are you serious, or are you just fucking with me? You go to get some prostitutes helped out, you end up getting them arrested. You go up to bring some hell into people’s lives, you end up somehow helping them resolve their issues, the list goes on. And fucking. On. I don’t understand it. Every other ‘corrupted angel’ that comes down here has no issue wreaking havoc, but somehow, you manage to do anything but. What is your damn deal, man? You’re ruining my reputation down here. Figure you ass out, get your life together, do something, or - no. You know what. I’ve given you one too many chances, kid. I had high hopes for you, because of what you did for dad up in Heaven. But now? Man, who knew that Satan could lose faith.”

The man shook his head, scoffing. Then, he stepped forward, and behind Damian. The boy felt Lucifer’s fingers run along his wings, tugging them.

“You can’t make a life in Heaven, and you can’t even make a life in Hell. You don’t belong anywhere, Damian. So here’s the deal. I’m going to take these,” one wing was ripped off of the boy’s back, making him yell out in pain and fall to his knees, tears streaming from his face, “and you’re going to go to Purgatory to try and get your shit together there. I really do hate having to do this, kid, I really do, but there’s just no way that you can live here or there. I do hope you don’t end up killing yourself.”

His other wing was ripped from his back, and then he was spiraling down and down into an endless pit, towards Purgatory.

The scars that hallowed Damian were nothing short of painful. Of course, still, no one knew this. They didn’t even know the half of it.

Sure, he crawled his way out of the depths and somehow made it to the surface of Earth. But, between you, me, the scars on his body and the ones in his head? He wouldn’t even make it as a human.

_______________________

Please keep credit where credit is due, thanks loves

#scar #angel and demon #writing #boyfriend prompt

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