#MY SON WHO WAS CREATED BEFORE I WAS BORN RED!

[xcosmicsans]

red :D

*insert “have you ever fallen in love” “five times a day” meme*

Also bonus pixel bulbasaur pokeball because I spent so long on it and I’m very pleased with how it came out so you will look at it

[nyashykyunnie]

˗ˏˋ Pirate King! Jinwoo x Siren! Reader ◛⑅·˚ ༘ ♡ ˎˊ˗

ₓ˚. ୭ ˚○◦˚𝕊𝕦𝕟𝕘 𝕁𝕚𝕟𝕨𝕠𝕠˚◦○˚ ୧ .˚ₓ

・┆✦ Entry : 032 ✦ ┆・

[ TW: Yandere Jinwoo, Violence , all Shadows Mentioned are in Human Form ]

‧₊˚ ☁️⋅ Part 1 || Part 2♡𓂃 ࣪ ִֶָ☾.

╰┈➤ ❝ [ Across the oceans with the stars as my guide, my Bride, I will find you ] ¡! ❞

Jinwoo was a huge mommy's boy, that's for sure. But like any other son, he also idolizes his father to the point that he begs Il-hwan to take him out to his mini ship trips to which the old man humors the little boy and teaches him how to be a good sailor.

Il-hwan often took Jinwoo in his short trips, mostly just to let the boy be more physically active. After all, young boys oughta be active to grow into healthy and happy men.

Well... That was until Il-hwan lost sight of Jinwoo who wandered off into the island the little boy was accompanying him into to deliver some goods.

While poor Sung Il-hwan's heart was about to burst from his chest— His son meanwhile... Was busy getting heart eyes and butterflies fluttering in silly little tummy.

Jinwoo was your typical idiot child after all, he is reckless and wanders off despite his father's strict orders not to be 10 steps farther away from him.

He just got curious at the pretty little shimmering shells on the sand that seemingly created a path for him to follow.

So what does he do? Duh, he follows it.

As he does so, Jinwoo carefully picks up each shell so he can turn them into a cute little seashell necklace or crown for his baby sister who was just recently born. She's his little princess and he wants to make her as pretty as she possibly can because she is his baby angel.

While picking up the last shell, Jinwoo was startled and fell back when he heard a splash on the waters. He thought for sure that it is his father but instead he was met with a curious gaze peeking behind a moss-covered rock. The orbs were wide and beady, similar to his but more naive. Adorned on the stranger's head were several pearls acting like a glittering stars against the lovely wet strands.

Jinwoo had dropped all the precious seashells he had picked up, but was too distracted on your gaze that the sheepish boy cant help but fumble around on himself.

"E-erm..." Jinwoo speaks up, but soon panicked as he saw your frightened expression. "W-wait, no, no... Don't be scared! I won't hurt you, promise!"

He says, hurriedly lowering himself and then stretching his tiny palms out to you to show that he meant no harm.

Well, how could such bright and round grey eyes show hostility anyway?

So, you also started fumbling around, pushing yourself closer to the curious human and pressing his palms against yours.

Jinwoo seemed to have had his breath hitch when your skins had touched. He kept sputtering out nonesense, before his tiny little digits intertwined with your with his face red to the very tip of his ears.

"Pretty..." Jinwoo mumbles shyly.

It was an odd language to you, but somehow you could tell that this curious little human was very gentle.

And when you beamed, he grins right after.

Innocent and lovely smiles on both your precious faces.

Jinwoo tugs at your hand, leading you to the water so you two could play. He didn't seem to care at the fact that both of you are two different species. While he had legs that could walk and run, you had a lovely tail that you use to traverse the lovely oceans.

You showed Jinwoo the prettiest parts of the waters, while he in turn showed you some tricks he could do. From hopskotch to doing cartwheels and climbing trees just to see you beam as he swung upside down.

Your voice was soundless, and he understood that you did that to protect his ears. There were stories that a siren's voice can burst one's eardrums unless you are bonded to one.

Jinwoo didn't know how long he played with you, but he eventually became tired and just curiously stared into your pretty and dreamy orbs seemingly carved out of the milky way while your foreheads are pressed together.

He then feels a swirl in his heart, a faint, blue glow eminating from underneath the fabric of his shirt. The boy realizes the peculiar feeling, looking down at himself.

But weirdly enough, he wasn't a tad bit alarmed at the mystical sight.

Just as he was about to ask you— Il-hwan's panicked and booming voice echoed from the forest behind the both of you and it instantly scared you away.

Jinwoo helplessly watched you dive into the waters, instantly disappearing into the distant blue.

As soon as Il-hwan sees his little boy, he immediately embraces a dumbfounded Jinwoo who was seemingly too frozen to say anything at all.

"Jinwoo, son, what has dad told—...." Il-hwan pauses, his words disappearing in his throat as he sees Jinwoo's tearful face.

"M-my siren"

"Siren?" Il-hwan scrunches his forehead.

"Dad, my siren!" Jinwoo yells, his face completely panicked as he starts to cry. "My siren, dad my siren! You have to get my siren back!"

"Jinwoo!..." Il-hwan's heart breaks at his son's wailing.

Jinwoo for one was never an insolent or needy child, he had always been good and obedient. Even a bit more closed off than most kids, he's a shy boy who never speaks much. But seeing the state of the poor child this distressed made Il-hwan's heart tremble with sadness.

All he could do was cradle the small boy who kept begging for him to find his dear siren.

⋅ ˚ ₊ ‧ ଳ ‧ ₊ ˚ ⋅ ⋆ ౨ৎ ˚ ⟡ ˖ ࣪

Jinwoo could never really forget that day, no matter how hard he tried he couldn't. Not that he would want to anyway. It would be the same memory night after night.

The sight of that precious siren, how his father spent hours trying to console him a she had his mental breakdown about his precious little 'Friend'.

He would grow into a fine young man, too fine in fact.

The desire to meet you again burned in his heart like a flame dancing in the pits of hell.

Jinwoo wants to find you.

Jinwoo has to find you.

He needs to.

After all, he worked several years earning a reputation in the seas as a cruel tyrant. Not that he is really a villain, no, in fact— He was just passing by a bunch of bastards trying to hijack his ship— The ship he spent hundreds of golds on in order for him to pursuit your missing figure. The nitwits just couldn't sit down and shut up for once.

He spent all of his youth practicing and preparing, researching as much as he can about sirens.

Their habitats, their breeding routes, and their most known locations.

Jinwoo is not an idiot, he actually returned to the very spot he had met you in but found no signs of siren activity. Not even a path of seashells was laid out anywhere even as he circled the shore hundreds of times.

Frustrating? Yes.

But nothing was more frustrating than the fact that all these fucking hooligan pirates were trying to ruin his chances of finding your precious existence in these vast oceans.

He can't waste time playing petty mind games and bargaining.

Jinwoo's gamble is him trying to find a sliver of your trace.

And as he stood bloodsoaked atop of the remains he had mauled so grotesquely, his head tilted upwards with the most faded and lifeless purple orbs gazing at the pouring rain— He felt a sharp stab at his chest.

"Captain!" Beru wails, dropping his sword as he hurriedly assisted his master who had almost collapsed on the floor.

"My liege, you've pushed yourself too much" Bellion says as he took off his cloak and draped it over Jinwoo's figure who was still clutching his chest as if out of breath. "I beg you, captain, please breathe."

"I can't rest not," Jinwoo grits his teeth, moaning in pain as he feels another sharp stab in his heart.

It felt as though his insides are being burned alive, roasting him from within while his heart throbbed like it had a dagger embedded in it's flesh twisting so torturously slow.

Between death and this pain, Jinwoo would have rather chosen the afterlife if it weren't for the fact that he's so fixated on seeking for his precious siren.

His crew would gather around, panicking and attempting to be of help but to no avail

Since eventually, Jinwoo would have passed out from the agony he feels.

⋅ ˚ ₊ ‧ ଳ ‧ ₊ ˚ ⋅ ⋆ ౨ৎ ˚ ⟡ ˖ ࣪

"It's not looking good," Igris sighs, running his hand through his long strands after patching up Jinwoo's chest with a bandage. "His injuries are getting more severe by the day."

"Where did it come from?" Beru asks hastily, gritting his teeth. "Did my liege's siren curse him?"

"Far from it," Igris explains. "If the siren had indeed cursed captain, then there is no reason why his the skin directly on top of his heart would rot and create cracks like it's made of glass. The injury not only affects his heart, but also eats him from the inside out. The black ichor spilling out of the wound shows that this is a divine punishment"

"Divine Punishment?!" Beru bellows, his expression turning dark. "Our liege is a gentle soul, why would he of all the bastards of this godforsaken world would suffer such ailment?!"

"Beru, your temper." He sighs, pulling the blanket up to Jinwoo so that their captain could rest more easily. "He has not offended any god, nor is he being punished for his misdeeds."

He takes a deep breath, "It's the aftereffects of being seperated from their mate."

"Mate? But our liege is human?" Beru inquires, flabbergasted.

"Yes, but he has bonded with a siren" Igris scoffs, crossing his arms as if mocking Beru's lack of comprehension. "Our liege told us of the story, of how he met a lovely little siren his age when he was but a wee little lad. A glow suddenly emanated from his chest as if there was a star being planted in his body. That is a typical way for sirens to propose innocently. And our liege has wholly accepted the bonding ritual. Unfortunately, the siren had fled. Prolonged separation from one's mate can result in the symptom's our liege has been showing. His young body is strong hence why he could keep the injuries at bay most of the time. But it seems that our captain will reach his limit soon if we do not find that siren soon."

"...." Beru droops, feeling hopeless.

"Best we let him rest for tonight," Igris simply taps his shoulder, signaling for his colleague to leave the captain's quarters too.

⋅ ˚ ₊ ‧ ଳ ‧ ₊ ˚ ⋅ ⋆ ౨ৎ ˚ ⟡ ˖ ࣪

Jinwoo had woken up in the middle of the night, he was completely exhausted from the battle that took place in the afternoon.

He reached out and downed the mug of water waiting at his bedside before getting up and donning a coat over his shoulders to take a simple walk on the empty deck.

"Where are you, really?" Jinwoo sighs, bringing his finger up where a tiny little fish made of water playfully nuzzled his digit. "My darling bride, how am I to gift you all the treasures I've coveted if I cant even have you here, hm?"

Jinwoo had discovered that the little fish friend he had been secretly summoning from his heart was in fact a proof that he and the siren had bonded. If humans had their rings, sirens would have these little creatures as proof of sacramental union.

It was adorable, really.

Sure, one could say that he is only searching for the siren with the sole purpose of prolonging his life but that wasn't his goal.

No.

Even if the bond didn't exist, Jinwoo would still choose the same path as he does now.

If he dies, his siren would die too.

And as a stubborn, reckless and steadfast king of the pirates who even has power above the holy king himself— Jinwoo wouldn't back down in this.

So long as he sees a star twinkling above the unruly oceans, he will continue to sail in search of his precious bride.

꒰ A/N: Wont be making any fics for the next two weeks because exams yay but this will have a part 2 so dw and be patient xD... I'll let this marinate ꒱

ʚ(੭´͈ ᐜ `͈)੭ .｡✧･ﾟ: ~♡ —! stories written by kyunnie; translations, reposts, plagiarism are strictly forbidden.

[taking-thyme]

🌅 Lucifer Deity Guide 🌅

Note: This is inspired by both my own experiences with Lucifer and the information I read on @scarletarosa's blog and her devotional guide to him. Please go read that one too!!

The divine rebel, Lucifer is the light of truth and divine wisdom; an ancient light which shines through the darkness, representing illumination. He is the driving force of innovation, liberation and transformation. According to Scarletarosa, who actively works with Lucifer and was told this by him, he was the first-born god of the Universe created by the supreme deity, the Source. He is so incredibly ancient and beautiful. Lilith was created to be his counterpart, the Queen of Heaven. However, Jehovah took the throne of heaven from Lucifer and cast him and his followers into hell. Most of them lost their connection to heaven and their energy became dark and intense. Jehovah claimed the throne of heaven and set himself up as the one true god, manipulating humans into betraying their original deities. Thus, Lucifer became the King of Hell and has been scorned by Christians for millenia. 

God of: Illumination, Light, Darkness, Change, Rebirth, Challenges, Innovation, Logic, Truth, Knowledge, Wisdom, Strategy, Persuasion, Revolution, Luxury, Pleasure, Freedom, The Arts and The Morning Star (“Morning Star” is another name for the planet Venus)

Symbols: Sigil of Lucifer, The Morning Star, Violins and Fiddles (instruments traditionally associated with him)

Plants and Trees: Rose, Belladonna, Mulberry, Patchouli, Myrrh, Min, Tobacco, Marigold, Lilies, Hyacinth, Sage

Crystals: Amethyst, Black Obsidian, Onyx, Garnet, Selenite, Rose Quartz

Animals: Black Animals in general, Dragons, Snakes, Owls, Eagles, Ravens, Crows, Rams, Foxes, Pigs,  Bats, Rats, Moths, Swans

Incense: Rose, Frankincense, Patchouli, Myrrh

Colors: Black, Red, Silver, Emerald Green, Gold

Tarot: The Devil

Planets: The Morning Star, Venus

Day: Monday and Friday

Consort: Lilith

Children: Naema, Aetherea and many others

How was he traditionally worshipped?

There is not much to say about how Lucifer was historically worshiped seeing as he wasn’t worshiped at all for a large chunk of human history. He seems to have been worked with in some capacity according to the Gesta Treverorum, written in 1231, which is where we first see the term Luciferian being used to refer to his worship. This was by a woman named Lucardis for a religious circle, who was said to lament to Lucifer in private and prayed to him. However, the term Luciferians was later applied to basically any groups Christians didn’t like and wanted to fight, as one might expect. However, the modern Luciferian movement also sheds light on how Lucifer is worshiped. For Luciferians, enlightenment is the ultimate goal. Their basic principles highlight truth, freedom of will and fulfilling one’s ultimate potential, and encourage the same in all of us. Traditional dogma is shunned because Luciferians believe that humans do not need deities or the threat of eternal punishment to know what is good and the right thing to do. All ideas are to be tested before being accepted, and even then one should remain critical because knowledge is fluid and ever-changing. Regardless of whether Luciferians view Lucifer as a deity or an archetype, he is a representation of ultimate illumination and exploration in the name of personal growth. 

Epithets

Phanes

The Morning Star

Light-bringer

The First-born

Prince of Darkness

Son of Morning

The Glory of Morning

Lord of the Lunar Sphere

The First Light

Offerings

Red Wine, Whiskey (especially Jack Daniels), Champagne, Pomegranate Juice, Black Tea (especially earl grey), Chocolate (especially dark chocolate), Cooked Goat Meat, Venison, Apples, Pomegranates, Honey, Good Quality Cigars, Tobacco, Daggers and Swords, Silver Rings, Emeralds and Emerald Jewelry, Goat Horns, Black Feathers, Seductive Colognes, Red Roses, Dead Roses, Crow Skulls, Bone Dice, Devotional Poetry and Artwork, Classical Music (especially violin)

Devotional Acts

Acts of self-improvement, spiritual awakening and evolution, knowledge-seeking and dedication to spirituality ; Shadow Work ; Working to overcome your ego to become wiser ; Defending those in need ; Working to better yourself without being too self critical ; Fighting against tyranny and bigotry whenever you encounter it

Altar Decorations

Black or Red Candles, Snake and Dragon Figurines, His sigil, Roses, Fancy Chess Boards and Playing Cards, Silver Jewlery and ornaments, Black feathers, Goat horns

Appearance

For me Lucifer usually appears as a tall light-skinned man with long fiery red hair (so red it looks like it’s been dyed), a sophisticated face with a killer jawline, passionate eyes and dressed in a fancy black suit. From all my experiences with him and what I’ve heard from other followers, it seems Lucifer and most demons dress in full suits and tuxedos. 

Personality

Lucifer is nothing if not charming. He’s a protector first and foremost - one that always works to help you better yourself, but a protector nonetheless. He feels like a protective older brother taking care of you while your parents are away. He is a very complex entity, deeply wise and eloquent. He is more serious than one might expect for a demon given their popular depictions in our culture as chaotic forces of evil, but Lucifer is full of courage and love. I often feel him with me even when I’m not doing things related to him. He is proud of his follower’s accomplishments and congratulates them on a job well done, though he also reminds them that the job is never truly over. Growth is constant. Lucifer is the epitome of growth, blunt and gentle at the same time, telling you what you need to do and giving you space to figure out how to do it. 

Lucifer values resilience, the pursuit of self-betterment, intellectualism, courage, open-mindedness and responsibility in individuals and wants to see his followers develop these qualities. He is constantly rooting for you to reach your full potential. He won’t hold your hand the entire way, but he will help you take steps in the right direction. Lucifer, like all deities, is different for everyone and will adjust his approach depending on your needs.

^ The Sigil of Lucifer

[naomikozura]

Love of My Life: Part 2

Heian Era! True Form! Ryomen Sukuna x Sorcerer!Fem!Reader

A/N: I want to put an actual paragraph warning in here. Remember this is Sukuna’s story during the Heian Era, using bits and pieces from what I've researched on JJK and him during this era.

This chapter shows INTENSE GRUESOME SCENES including torture, psychological torture, abuse, massacres, and burning buildings. This is a DARK THEME story, it is meant as a work of FICTION and its 18+ ONLY MDNI!!!!

Warnings: strong language, violence, mention of mass murder, angst, generational trauma, complicated family dynamics, family abuse, murder, emotional turmoil and abuse, manipulation, sadistic tendencies, corruption of power, dark themes, burning down villages, murder, masochistic tendencies, sadistic behavior, decapitation, prostitution, sex scenes (in a brothel), torture, psychological torture, (lmk if I missed any!)

WC: 10.2K Series Masterlist

Part 1 || Part 3

The night was quiet, the aftereffects of your fight still lingering in the air. You hadn’t spoken to them for the rest of the evening, letting yourself sit with the hurt of your father’s words.  Your eyes were red, puffy from the silent tears you shed in the past hour. 

Defective. Wasted potential. Disgrace. 

Why has this been your life? Why were you born into one of the Four? Did you live a cruel existence in a past life, were you paying for the sins of your ancestors? Your father despised you being his daughter, hated that his claim was weakened because you were a daughter instead of a son, that you would never be as powerful as the sons of the other Families. You did everything to bring honor to your family. You studied, you trained, you focused on your inherited technique, you brought peace between villages with your kindness and political intelligence, you tried for the better part of your life to mold yourself into what your father wanted. You obeyed his demands, agreed to his greedy power tactics, even believed you were okay marrying Zetsubou  Zen’in when deep down you didn’t want to. You were more than just a pawn in his game, more than means to an end, more than just something to solidify your family name in the realm and create a greater power. 

Little did he know he was slowly pushing you to your brink. You believed you controlled yourself well, keeping composed in even the worst of situations but your composure slowly started to crumble with every new task he had for you. The pressure slowly built up and you couldn’t take it anymore, you didn’t want to sell your life away just for someone else to gain all the power. 

What a cruel life you were given. 

“Y/n”, you felt your heart skip a beat, a low rumble vibrating through you as your bones became hyper aware of who called your name. You turned around, your eyes meeting his deep red ones as he stood in your bedroom. You didn’t even begin to wonder how he got in, he was a gifted sorcerer, he could do anything.

“Ryo..”, you called his given name, not remembering when you had started but when he showed no distaste in your doing so, you continued to call him by name. 

“Come.”, it was all he needed to say as you nodded, slipping on your night robe and your shoes before following him through the back door of your home. You stayed glued to his side as he led you through the woods, suddenly realizing he was using his technique to hide both your cursed energy. He’d put a veil over the both of you to camouflage from any scouts patrolling the woods. 

Silence fell over the both of you, walking for about a half hour before reaching the end of the woods, a blue lake illuminated by the moon at the bottom of a slight hill. The water was bright, the moon reflecting beautifully to light up the water in a serene and breathtaking way. 

“The ground here is loose.”, he said blankly before grabbing you, picking you up in his arms as you sank into him, letting your head rest in the curve between his jaw and shoulder. He had a musk to him, a woodsy smell that brought comfort over you and let you relax into his touch. 

You wondered if you were the first person he’d touched like this? Deep down you knew he’d probably indulge in the company of concubines, he was a man with needs and one many couldn’t refuse. You were certain many of the women would jump at an opportunity to have the King of Curses in their bed. A sting grew in your chest at the thought. 

Once he’d reached the bottom, he set you down on the grass, your body small in comparison to his. He stared at you with curious eyes, the dichotomy of your existence in contrast with his was a wonder to him. He was grueling, sadistic, had the body that would make anyone recoil on sight, and held no remorse in his actions towards others. Meanwhile, you were kind, intimate, beautiful, and gifted. You had three of the most powerful names in this era asking for your hand in marriage, every man in surrounding towns having heard of the L/n daughter who was the heir to the L/n bloodline and being gifted with the Eye of Aurora. He knew your ability was powerful, strong enough to possibly even go head to head with him once you’d reached its full potential. Deep down he already knew you’d be considered one of the strongest sorcerer’s in the Heian era once you reached your full ability. 

He hadn’t come to terms with his reasoning for letting you live, for helping you, for feeling intense amounts of cursed energy at your distress. He wasn’t a man of emotion nor empathy. He saw emotion as a weakness, mundane, meaningless. He hated weak humans, despised the sight of overly emotional lackeys and often killed them on sight or elongated their emotional distress with mental torture. Emotion was something he disregarded and found useless, and yet it was the very thing that kept him from even thinking of bringing harm onto you. 

Was this punishment for his track record of horrific slayings? Were you sent by some being to punish him with your existence?

“Why are we here?”, your red eyes met his gaze, something in his chest burning at the sight of your defeated stare. He could tell you’d been crying, he felt your distress from across the realm and it burned him alive. He’d almost crossed across the entire woods just to show at your home and end your father’s life for laying a hand on you. 

“Your father.”, he started roughly. “He’s a pathetic excuse of a man, an insolent waste of human flesh.”

Your tired eyes widened at the hatred dripping from his lips, the words filled with venom as his eyes darkened. You’d heard about his anger and wrath among the scribes in your village, it was enough to wipe out an entire population and he’d done it multiple times before. You knew if he truly wanted to, he could end your father’s life with no hesitation.

You looked down at the water, watching as the water moved and the ripples distorted the moon, your chest hurting as it contracted. “He…”, you choked on your words, the break in your voice creating a rise of energy in him. “He thinks I’m defective, a disgrace to our family.”

His eyes looked over at you, the burning in his chest growing larger. 

“He threatened to get the elders from the Zen’in clan to exorcize my ability and… let me die without our ancestral guides”

He wasn’t much for believing in spiritual practices, but you’d grown up believing you needed your ancestors to guide you to the next life. it was a common belief within the families especially when you came face to face with cursed spirits constantly. They’d always been exorcized and seeing them cry out as you did knowing they’d just die, you wanted to believe there was a place where your soul could rest easy in the after. 

You felt a whirl of his cursed energy, feeling the rage boiling inside of him. A part of you feared what could happen to your father if Sukuna really wanted to get rid of him, but another sadistic, cruel part of you that you’d never encountered before told you that your father deserved whatever he had coming to him. After years of his grueling expectations, you started to hate your father for his greedy and selfish ways. You knew deep down in the hidden depths of your heart that you couldn’t bring yourself to feel remorse if he died. 

The exorcism of cursed energy was painful, you could easily say that due to how spirits cried when they would get absorbed. The exorcism of an inherited special ability was far worse. You’d heard stories of Yu L/n. He’d been exorcized of the Eye of Aurora and executed after he’d wiped out an entire village because he couldn’t control his technique. It was a horror story, a gruesome tale, it scared you to no end at the possibility that the same could happen to you. An exorcism of a special technique meant death. It was the most grueling way to torture and kill someone, leaving them alive meant they’d be a shell of a human, struggling and living at a lesser quality of life. No humane person would allow someone to live in such agony. Inherited techniques were bonded to the inheritors soul, binding together to make the energy and the human soul one for whatever lifespan the sorcerer had. It was the reason manipulation and control was easy for those who inherited special abilities, because it was connected to them in every way down to the genetic makeup of their bodies. 

You stood next to him in silence, your body numb of emotion as you recounted everything your father had said to you. Were you really wasted potential? Were you really defective? 

“I’ll kill him.”, his voice vibrated, your eyes staring at him while he focused on the body of water in front of the both of you. “I’ll make him suffer, perhaps exorcize his cursed energy to give him a taste of his own ignorance”

“Ryo, please.”, your soft voice sent a wave of warmth through his body. “I don’t want unnecessary bloodshed.”

He realized then why the realm considered you the Princess of Peace. You wanted to fight for your rights to life, fight for what was fair to the realm without bloodshed. Every gathering you’d been to had always swayed in your favor and he knew deep down it wasn’t because of your family name. You were just logical and intelligent to showcase why your outlook was necessary in the development of the Jujutsu world. You truly believed deep down there would be ways to save jujutsu sorcerers and regular humans without having to create an all out war. 

A part of him whirled in anger, another not understanding your stance. He disregarded human emotion at all costs, thought it to be weak, pathetic, unbeneficial, and a waste of energy. When he looked at the way people reacted first instead of thinking it made him recoil in disgust, when he’d see sobbing mothers or angry fathers at the villages he’d consumed he laughed, feeding off their distress and growing in power. He thrived off the negative emotion, yet he couldn’t bring himself to care for anything except gaining his right to the realm. He believed he was the pinnacle of jujutsu sorcery and everyone else was simply a lackey and weak. 

He’d consider you one of them had you been anyone else, but there was something about you that made him hold you at a higher regard. You held every characteristic he despised of humans, of lesser sorcerers and yet he couldn’t bring himself to put you in the same category as them. It was like you had all immunity from his hatred, his wrath, his disgust. He didn’t know why you were different from the rest, he just knew you were and he couldn’t bring himself to figure out why. He didn’t want to. 

“What do you suggest I do then? Sit around and feel your energy get more distressed every time he talks to you like you’re worth nothing?”

For some reason, his confession of feeling your distress made your heart skip a beat. You knew he could feel all the energy around him, the powerful, the weak, the unstable, the murderous, and he cared most about yours. He felt your distress and it made him angry. Something about that undeniable truth made you feel warm inside. 

“You know what they tell you is true.”, he said, void of emotion. “I’ve killed hundreds of people, consumed their energy and left them to rot in the ground.”

Why was he saying this?

“I know.”

“I have no remorse, no morality, no human left in me”

“I know.”

It was all you could say, you couldn’t deny the painstaking truth. You knew he was immoral, dangerous, a murderer, you knew and still you ignored it. 

“So why do you choose to stay?”, he bit out. He’d never wanted nor cared about the opinion of anyone but he wanted yours. Why after the past two months did you choose to keep his company? Why after two months did you find yourself enamored with him? 

“Because you don’t care”, you confessed. “You don’t care about what others think, or what they say. You’re free to pass through every inch of this realm without any regard to what anyone has to say or what they think. In the end, you know you’re stronger, you go through life knowing your worth and position and… If I stay around you long enough maybe I’ll learn not to care either.”

Silence. 

He had no words to say as he listened to your voice grow slightly louder. “I want to leave, I don’t want to be the heir to my family’s claim, I don’t want to be held to this impossible standard that my family has for me. I just wish I could’ve been born just a regular human being. I might’ve been weak, ignorant, and blindsided but I would be free of the torment of my family’s expectation of me. I would be nobody and that would be enough.” 

That was just it. You could never be a nobody. You were forced into this life, born into a family of inherited techniques and forced to bring honor to your family no matter the cost. You were shackled to your prison for eternity and with no way out, you accepted the consequences of your position. 

To him though, it was different. You could never be a nobody. Not when he saw you as everything that brought out a sliver of humanity from his black soul. He saw you as everything everywhere all at once. You were kindness and empathy, strength and resilience, he felt it in the energy he absorbed and saw it in the woods he wandered through. He felt your presence in every fiber of his being and he hated it. You consumed him in a way not even the strongest in this realm could even graze him in. 

“He wants me to stop training in the fields and stay in the inner territory. He’s having the elders oversee my training.”, your mouth twitched slightly. “In the end, I'm still forced to develop my domain for him.”

A surge of annoyance whirled inside of him, forcing it back down in order to remain in control of his veil. He could be annoyed at the mundane anger of your father, but he wouldn’t put you at risk of being seen with him just because he wanted to rip your father into shreds. His thoughts seemed normal to him, but he knew if you’d heard his tactic of gaining your freedom you’d surely feel disgusted by him. 

“We should go back.”, you whispered, another tear streaming down your cheek. You looked down as you swallowed a sob, the feeling of his hand wiping the tear away warming your skin. You leaned into his hand, your lachrymose eyes meeting him in a gentle gaze. 

He stayed silent, grabbing your hand as he led you back through the woods and to your home. Your focus was on your intertwined hands, wondering if he’d ever let someone else touch him like this before. Has he ever been so gentle with others or were you the only exception to this? 

When you arrived, you lingered outside for a moment, the silence occupying the space while you tried to find the right words for him. You couldn’t quite place how you felt, but you felt a pull towards him, an uncontrollable feeling that you wanted to get off your chest. 

“Thank you”, was all you could say. He hummed in response before grabbing your hand, his skin rough and his touch gentle. You smiled through your hurt, a piece of your heart breaking at the fact that your freedom to roam had been stolen from you. A piece of you hurt even more than you couldn’t see him anymore. 

You gave him one last smile before walking away, your hand still in his grasp as it slowly untangled itself from his hood and you walked inside your home. After you’d reached your bedroom, you felt the veil of his cursed energy release and his presence disappear. 

Another single tear falling down your cheek while the pain in your chest overcame you, forcing you into a slumber just to escape from the agony. 

Over the past few days, Sukuna came to visit you in your home, concealing his energy and yours in the process in order to keep you from being sensed by others in your family clan. After so much time, he created a body double of you to take your place in bed so that you’d feel more comfortable leaving your room empty in the middle of the night. 

The nights were the only time you had with him now since your training was supervised by the elders, leaving you little room to actually train to create a domain and instead your time was consumed with training your ability. Every night you spent with him made your heart warm, everything about him made you feel whole, made you feel seen. It wasn’t often he’d speak fondly of anything, but he’d express himself to you in a way he’d never let anyone else hear. He preferred hearing you talk, preferred hearing your dreams of a future and a life that wasn’t surrounded by inheritance and power. He’d often disagreed, believing that power was the best thing in any lifetime that someone could obtain, but he found himself understanding your stance more and more every night. 

The two of you would spend every night with each other, staying within reach of your home in case you needed to return quickly, visiting the lake every night. You didn’t know at what point you started to return to his home with him, but you had found yourself in his bed more times than not. You would spend all night wrapped in his arms, his gentle touch on your skin, his fingers running through your h/c hair, breathing you in as you slept in his hold. 

He’d never expected a single thing from you. Your relationship with him was never carnal, he’d never let it get to that point because to him, he didn’t care for physical release anymore. 

Before you, he’d spend the better parts of his nights in brothels, a different concubine each night and drunk on wine and letting himself dip into his pool of women whenever he wanted. A harem waiting to jump into his bed at the snap of his fingers and yet, when you came around it was like all carnal desire evaporated from his being. His sudden disappearance from the brothels left even the concubines in shock, wondering where he’d gone off to not knowing of his infatuation with the L/n heir. 

Your emotional and mental capacity exceeded his beliefs and he found himself going against everything he once swore his life on, finding himself seeing you in a different light in comparison to every other living being. He respected you on a godly level, a level he never regarded anyone else in. You saw the world through a lens of profound clarity and grace, something he’d never wasted time on, something that made you connected to those beneath you but also made you so profoundly unique. You had embedded yourself so deeply into his being that even those around him started to notice the shift within the King of Curses. He found himself in awe of your perspective, mesmerized by the way your heart navigated through everything. 

He felt utterly pathetic. 

But you were content with him in every way. Where you held empathy and grace in your heart, he held control and selfishness. You were gentle and kind, he was merciless and heartless. Your eyes looked at the world with curiosity and he saw it as a kingdom to overtake, a kingdom where he would ultimately rule. A kingdom where he wanted you to serve next to him. To be his till his heart stopped beating and even beyond that.

You were a dichotomous pairing: heaven and hell. 

Still, you felt content when you laid in his arms at night. You felt secure laying in his bed, sleeping next to him, existing in the same space he occupied, looking into his deep red eyes that the rest of the realm were too scared to look into. You loved the way he touched you, his hand gentle as it pushed your hair back while you laid next to him. You loved the way he held you while you breathed against his chest at night before inevitably having to return home before the sunrise. 

That same morning you had returned home, you were preparing for a bath, undressing as you heard the group of maids outside the room. 

“You don’t think he will have heirs, do you?”, one of them asked in a whisper. 

“Someone like him has to have heirs. He wants to rule an empire, surely he’ll find a way to get them.”

“I wouldn’t mind giving him some.”, the final one spoke, making your ears ring in shock as she continued. “Have you seen him? He has to have a harem of women waiting to get into bed with him, not to mention he looks like he would be completely wild in bed.”

You felt your gut turn inside of you. 

“I wouldn’t mind jumping in bed with him, even if it is only once. Just to know what it’s like to get fucked by a real man.”, the maid laughed as their voices disappeared down the hall, leaving you standing in your shock as you let her words sink into your bones. 

You felt… insignificant. Insufficient. Inadequate. 

Later that night when he came for you, a wave of silence covered the both of you. You knew he could feel your energy, the doubt bubbling inside of you as you moved through the woods. Once you’d reached his home, you stood in the middle of the room, waiting for him to break the silence. 

He turned to meet your gaze, the emotion glossing over your eyes as he moved towards you. His hand reached up, pushing your loose strands of hair behind your ear as he caressed your cheek. 

“What’s wrong?”, he breathed. 

“Why?’, your voice shook, leaving him questioning why you were like this tonight. “Why me?”

He stood in silence, waiting for you to continue, knowing you weren’t done with the amount of energy he felt radiating off of you. 

“Why me, Sukuna? You could have anyone, any woman you wanted, hell all the women you wanted. I know you’re far from being a saint, and I accepted that fact a long time ago because I couldn’t care less about who you’d been with before me. I don’t care about your past or how many women you’ve been with… I just need to know.”, you looked up at him with tears in your eyes. “You have so many women, so many concubines at your fingertips. I’m sure you’ve slept with some of them in the past few months, hell maybe even weeks. So, why?”, your voice broke. “Why me?”

Were you not good enough? Sufficient? Worthy?

His silence ate at you, making your gut fill with dread as he stared at you with a blank stare. You could guess that he’d probably taunt you, play with your feelings before delivering his ultimate blow. You wanted to believe that the past few weeks meant something to him in the same way they meant everything to you. You wanted to be enough for someone. Enough for him. 

When his voice broke the silence, you felt your eyes gloss over with tears again.

“I haven’t been with another woman since I met you.”, his voice held the truth, reaching up to cup your cheek.  “Since the first time I saw you, I stopped visiting brothels or entertaining the thoughts of other women.”

A shock sank into your bones at his confession. His eyes bore into yours with truth, with honesty. What he wanted to know was how these thoughts even entered your mind. 

“Who put these thoughts into your mind?”, he asked in a deep growl. 

You hesitated, swallowing the lump in your throat. “One of our maids… She..”

He let out a quiet shush, grabbing your face with both his hands as his thumb grazed over your lips, “You…”, his eyes darkening with what you could only place as lust and possessiveness, “are the only woman in this life and the next, the only woman in this realm and the hundreds of others that I desire.”

And hell did he want you. He wanted every part of you. heart, body, and soul. Down to the simple way your eyes looked at him to the way your cursed energy spiraled into immense power when fighting cursed spirits. He wanted every strand of hair, every piece of your soul, every inch of skin, every minute of your time. He wanted you to consume him in every way and he couldn’t care less about the gravity of your effect on him. If you didn’t exist to be with him, he didn’t want to exist either. He saw himself as the pinnacle of jujutsu sorcery, the king of this realm, and he wanted you to be the one and only thing that could bring him to his knees. If he was the most powerful sorcerer in the existence of humanity and jujutsu, then you were far stronger. You brought the King of Curses to his knees and he couldn’t stop it even if he wanted. He wanted you to have power over him, it meant you belonged to him in every way that mattered. He'd burn the world down if you asked, kill an entire nation to prove his undying loyalty to you, he’d stop his spread of cursed energy to know a moment of peace with you. 

He didn’t know when he’d become so wrapped up in you, but it was too late for him by the time he realized the hold you had over him. 

He was yours with the entirety of his being, with the intensity of his soul, and the remainder of his existence in this life and continue to let you consume him in every lifetime after this one. 

His soul called your name in a way he’d never experienced in his entire life. For a man who didn’t believe in indulging in mundane emotions, he indulged in you and that’s all he needed. 

Your lip quivered, a sob choked out of your lips as you looked at him in a deep admiration. You lifted your hands to wrap around his wrists, sinking into his touch as you whispered to him. 

“I want to see you, Ryo.”, your hand on his face, your gentle lachrymose eyes meeting his hardened ones. “I want to see the real you.”

He would’ve denied the request had you been anyone else, but he was at your mercy, allowing his body to morph into his true being. The very form that left the realm fearing his presence, left them in agony from the overwhelming rush of cursed energy. His true form alone was enough to make an entire nation buckle under his presence. It was gruesome, wicked, twisted, ugly, and macabre. It was something so terrifying they’d used it in stories to children for them to be good for their parents. His true form was something heard about across all of the realm and left nations training for years in hopes to one day kill the King of Curses. And despite all of that wickedness, gruesomeness, and fear, you looked up at him with gentle eyes. 

He showed his true form to you, waiting for the recoil of disgust, the shock of horror and yet none of it came. You looked at him with the same gentleness you had for anyone else in this realm. He had a deformed stomach, four arms, multiple sets of eyes and a plate on his face, teeth sharp like daggers, and body covered in scars and marked in black ink. 

Yet, the only thing that flooded your eyes was admiration. 

Why weren’t you disgusted by him?

Why weren’t you running in fear?

Bowing at his feet?

Why?

“Why do you hide your true form around me?”, you cocked your head slightly. “Everyone in the other families always say you show your true form to add to your dominance over the realm, yet you disfigure your body and make it different when I’m with you… Why?”

Who created you in such a way that you empathize with him instead of cursing him to hell? 

Princess of Peace. 

“Does it bother you?”

“I just don’t see why you have to hide it. You don’t have to do that. Not with me.”

You couldn’t explain the connection to him. 

Was it an invisible string? 

Fated soulmates? 

You didn’t know what it was that his form didn’t frighten you or leave you in shock. You welcomed every being with open arms, perhaps it was your special ability to see cursed energy and gauge its threat to you. His energy never reached levels of threat when he was near you. You’d seen it around other sorcerers and the level grew astronomically. It was almost too much to wrap your mind around and yet when you saw it in the solace of his bedroom, it never pushed you away. 

Inside these walls, no cursed energy existed to harm you. In fact, it was the complete opposite. His cursed energy manifested in a protective veil, ensuring you were guarded completely when you were with him. 

You felt every question swirl in your mind, trying to pinpoint why he had you feeling so alive. 

Was it the desire to leave your family out of spite?

The desire to know what being unhinged was?

The desire to not live within the bounds of the jujutsu code and live freely?

You couldn’t quite place it but you felt envious of his freedom and lack of care. You were always being watched, always monitored, the only moments of peace and freedom you got were when he would sneak you out of your home at night.

You grabbed one of his hands, rubbing soft fingers on the back of it and meeting his gaze. You’d grown to admire the depth of his gaze, the way they watched you with a calm intensity. You have laced his hand on your cheek, his massive palm warming your skin as you sank into him. 

His body lowered to your height, bending over as he brought you closer to his chest while your heart pounded inside of your own. You knew he could feel your infatuation, your intrigue, your heart racing inside you. Your gentle eyes met his darkened ones, the closest thing to desire that he could get to while holding you. You felt his lips meet yours, the roughness of his mouth as he claimed you as his. You melted into him, your hands on his chest as a pair of his landed on your waist and the other held your face, deepening the kiss. 

He lifted your body, placing your frame on his lap as he laid against the headboard of his bed. You felt the burning of his skin as his grip tightened on your waist. Your skin ignited under his touch, running a hand through his hair which caused him to groan against your mouth. You could listen to him all day, forever. 

If your father or the realm saw you right now, what would they say? What would they think? Would they accuse Sukuna of brainwashing you? Imprisoning you? Did you need saving? 

No. 

You didn’t need saving; you were far beyond it for anyone to consider it. You were too far gone in him and you didn’t want to turn back. His muscular arms picked you up, laying you on your back against the sheets as his overwhelming form covered yours. You were tiny in comparison to him, your hair splayed out in a halo as his eyes stayed focused on you. A hand brushed your stray hairs back, rubbing small circles against your temple. 

You focused on his body, admiring every muscle, every ripple of skin, every scar, every black marking. You admired his form regardless of the fact that most would consider him a devil. It never occurred to you in any sense. 

An angel entrapped by a demon, an angel falling in love with the devil, an angel stolen from heaven and dragged to hell. 

You didn’t give a damn anymore. You wanted him, needed him like you needed oxygen. He helped you feel free, helped you escape the confines of your familial name, helped you feel worthy. He helped you see life in a new light, in every way that you couldn’t before because of your father’s controlling ignorance. You didn’t care about the opinions of the village or the families, deep down they were only looking out for themselves even if everyone else denied it. 

The King of Curses completely ruined you: the Princess of Peace. The two of you were a dichotomous pairing, chaos and peace, yet still found balance in each other. It was the balance of life and existence and the both of you knew exactly how the collision would end: one of you would gain everything and the other would lose it all. But neither of you would have anticipated the depth of your connection, the intensity in which he consumed you and you him. You no longer cared about the consequences of being with him. Your father could disown you, exile you, have the entire village and the other families against you, but as long as Ryomen was at your side you didn’t care. 

His rough lips made their way down your neck, kissing and licking every inch of your skin as your hands held into his arms. The sound of your muffled cries made him feral, making his instinct and possessiveness kick into overdrive. He needed to feel you, needed to taste you, to breathe you in and have you take over all his senses. 

Your hands gripped his arms, your toes curling against the bed sheets as he continued to kiss down your neck and swirling his tongue around the delicate skin. You tasted like a heaven he never believed in, made him feel euphoric in ways beyond comprehension. 

Your body was on fire at his touch, you wanted more. More of his touch, his kisses, his groans, his everything. You just wanted more of him. 

You wanted to give yourself to him in everyway you could. He knew you were still a virgin, he wanted to be the one to wreck you, to be the only one to know your body so intimately, wanted to be the only man you’d ever end up with. His hands gripped your hips as you felt his buck slightly against you, your moans filling his mouth as he kissed you sloppily. 

He forced himself to stop, gaining a small whimper from you. His eyes met yours, his voice deep but low as he pressed his lips against yours once more. 

“Not like this.”, he muttered, his tone vibrating in every bone in your body. 

You knew what he meant with just a simple phrase, Your body relaxing against the bed, letting him collapse next to you as he wrapped you into his arms. You soaked in his warmth, letting your body be held by him as you fell into a slumber. 

This was all you could ever ask for. 

It was all you wanted.

One Week Later 

You woke up just before the sunrise, your body sitting up as the bed sheets fell from your form. You looked next to you, seeing Sukuna in his sleep while his arms were lazily thrown over your torso. Another night with him in peace left you feeling content, feeling a soreness overtake your body from the training you’d done with him last night. You felt his arms tighten, your body almost bare against him only wearing one of his oversized wool shirts. 

You pushed yourself out of his embrace, swinging your legs off the bed and looking out the window. You still had time to get home before everyone woke up, though you needed to head home soon. You felt his energy shift as he woke, raising a hand while still laying in the sheets and looking at you while caressing your cheek. 

“I have to get home.”, you whispered as you melted into him. He grunted in response before sitting up and cracking his neck to relieve the pressure he’d gotten overnight. You follow his as he stands, letting him help dress you in your clothing as you felt his lips along the side of your neck. 

Both of you walked out of his home, walking through the woods until you reached your room, his veil keeping you hidden and camouflaged both of your energies. You gave him a final kiss, smiling at him before he turned and left, leaving you alone in your room. 

During mid day, the sun held its highest position and the food was being prepared for lunch, you heard mention from your father that the Zen’in would be joining your family for lunch. 

Everything was fine at first, everyone coexisting together, talking about family matters and everything normal, atleast it seemed normal at first. 

You looked up to see Zetsubou Zen’in walk in the door, one of the maids accompanying him to the table as she bowed and walked back to her post at the front door. He was the heir to the Zen’in clan. A remarkably talented sorcerer with the gift of the Ten Shadows technique. Everyone was sure he would soon manifest the shikigami Mohoraga, making him the first to manifest it since the family’s establishment to the realm. 

“Now that everyone is here, there is some news we must share.”, your father spoke as he stood, watching as Zetsubou’s father also rose to stand next to his son. Everyone else remained seated, you included as you cocked your head in confusion. 

“Y/n, come stand.”, your father motioned towards you, your gut churning in suspicion before you stood next to him. You watched your father before turning to Zetsubou and his father, his dark eyes staring into your e/c ones. 

“We are to celebrate the new union, the meshing of two family names into one great clan.”, your father spoke, your mother and the Zen’in wife staring in silence. Even the maids seemed to be on edge of what your father was saying. “Zetsubou, Your father and I have agreed in accepting the conditions of betrothal that you both have given to our family.”

Betrothal?

“Y/n, you and Zetsubou will meet in union in two weeks' time. Two Clans becoming one in matrimony.”, your father smiled as he shook hands with the Zen’in leader, smiling at Zetsubou. 

You stood in silence, your energy growing grimm at the declaration your father just made. Your body overwhelmed in shock, your heart racing in your chest, your mind swirling with a million different possibilities. The chatter around you blurred into a jumbled mess, nothing comprehensive due to your anger radiating from your body. 

“I look forward to getting closer to you through our marriage, Y/n.”, Zetsubou smiled at you, your eyes staring at him mindlessly. “Y/n?”

“I’m not marrying you.”, you said silently, almost inaudibly but you knew he’d heard you since you saw Zetsubou’s eyes darken. 

“What?”, his voice came out clipped, sharp. Dangerous. 

“I am not marrying you.”, you repeated, your eyes void of any emotion as you held 

“Y/n!”, your mother let out a warning call, but you ignored her. You didn’t care about anything other than making it entirely clear that you were not going to be wed to the Zen’in Clan. “Forgive us, she doesn’t realize what she’s saying.”

“I know what I’m saying. I am not marrying you, Zetsubou. Not even if you held my life at sword's edge.”

You suddenly felt the energy that radiated off of your father, his anger growing tenfold as he glared at you with intense disappointment and resentment. Your father already hated you, and already felt disgraced by your presence. Why not give him another reason to see you as less than good enough. 

“I think there needs to be some time to process our agreement. Surely we can come to a suitable agreement that will benefit both of our clans.”, your father forced out, his voice clipped. “Our maids will clean up, let me walk you out.”

You watched as both the Zen’in leader and your father walked out, your eyes glancing back at Zetsubou, holding his glare before he scoffed and followed behind his father. You heard the lowered voice of Zetsubou’s father, his voice full of annoyance. 

“Get your daughter under control or else we will take care of her for you.”, and with that, the Zen’ins left your home. You stared blankly as your father walked back into the room, his energy radiating in waves like a tsunami. He walked up to you, your blank stare meeting his eyes as you felt your head snap to the side, the sting burning your cheek as he snarled at you. 

“You are a disgrace!”, he screamed, your mother gasping at his sudden burst. “How dare you embarrass our family name in front of the Zen’ins!”

You raised your head, looking at the pure fury displayed in his eyes, still not saying a single word as he continued to berate you. 

“Why can’t you just do your duty and save yourself the embarrassment. Save our family the dishonor of having you as its heir.”, he bit out, each word dripping with acid. “You’re to marry Zetsubou Zen’in in two weeks' time. For once in your pathetic life, do something honorable for this family.”. He left the room, your mother following closely behind as the maids started to clean the dining room. 

And still, you stood in the middle of the room with no emotion behind your eyes, just the sting of your cheek and the emptiness in your chest at your father’s words. Your life, your future, your dreams, it all was reduced to being the wife of a man you did not love. A man you did not care for and despised. 

You were reduced to nothing. 

The night was silent, the wind howled softly in the background causing the trees to move, leaving nothing but a tranquil aura in the air. You stared blankly at the wall as you laid against Sukuna’s skin, the warmth flooding your body as you felt his arms wrap around you. You felt the growing pressure in your chest, an unavoidable truth you couldn’t keep from him anymore. 

“Kuna…”, you whispered gently. HIs body moved, looking at you as his eyes fell on your heartbroken form. “I..”, you choked. 

How could you possibly tell him this?

“What is it?”, his voice was deep yet soft, the words ringing in your ears. 

“I… My father..”, you sucked in a shaky breath. “He arranged for me to marry Zetsubou Zen’in.”

“He arranged for you to marry Zetsubou Zenin.” he repeated back to you, the lingering darkness hanging in his tone. 

“He says it’ll be good for our families. That I have a responsibility as heir, as does Zetsubou, to continue our bloodline and make our abilities stronger.”

“Do you love him?”, the question made your blood run cold, even kicked you in the gut, but you knew why he asked. You could read in between the lines and hear the unanswered question he truly wanted to ask. 

“No.”

A hum was all that escaped him, the silence casting over the both of you causing a small blanket of tension to rise. 

“I can kill them.”, he replied finally. “I can give them a reason to call off that sham marriage.”

He could do it easily, there was no question about it, the only thing keeping him from carrying out his plan was his loyalty to you. He wouldn’t do something you asked him to not do. You had that power over him to stop him from doing anything. You heard the hidden meaning in his words. You weren’t ignorant or naive. You knew who he was and what he was capable of and yet, you lay in his arms falling deeper into what he was, or rather, who he was with you. 

“I don’t want bloodshed. Besides..”, you sank into your sorrow again. “I don’t think there truly is a way out of this.”

“Do you really believe they could possibly keep me away from you?”, he asked in a serious, deep tone, his question full of every emotion he’d never said out loud. He didn’t know what kindness was, what admiration looks like or what love felt like but to him… you were the closest thing to that that he’d ever felt and seen in all his life. 

You brought out what little humanity he had in him, he showed it only for you. the tiniest sliver reserved for you but disappeared when it came to anyone else. You were the only one who deserved that small minuscule part of him. He had little regard for human life, he believed himself above all beings all gifted, cursed, and boring. 

Then there was you. 

He didn’t believe himself above you in any regard. 

In every way you were his equal and he’d burn the world to ash to prove it to you. 

“I can’t deny them… My father… he already hates me.”, you muttered against his skin. Ryomen slowly sat up, his arms helping you move with him as he brushed your hair back, tucking a strand behind your ear and letting his hand rest against your cheek. Your eyes glossed over, a hurt in your heart flooding every vein in your body. You didn’t want to be forced into a life you had no interest in, why did this have to be your life’s path? 

You wish you could just speak to whatever greater being ruled over your world and beg them to change the prophecy known as your life. Beg for a time where you didn’t exist within the confines of your familial name, your duty to pass your legacy through your bloodline, your fear of disgracing your family, who could ever change the end result for you? 

“I’ll find a way.”, he whispered before leaning towards you, pulling your lips against his as he let all of his emotion pour into the kiss as the tears fell down your cheeks. He was gentle even in his destructive touch, he let himself completely off guard with you. Your lips moved gently against his, soft and delicate, making his other hands wrapped around your waist as he kissed you deeply. You felt weak at his touch, your heart openly his without regret or second thoughts. 

“Ryo..”, you whispered, your voice shaky as he kissed you again, this time more possessive and full of desire. His teeth nipped at your bottom lip, pulling it before letting it go as it swelled. 

You let yourself sink into him, his arms wrapping around you in a secure embrace. You fell asleep to the sound of his heartbeat, it was even and strong, proof of the life inside of him. 

He watched you carefully, his gut churning in a whirlwind of emotion and suppressed energy. He needed an outlet and soon, he’d spent the better part of the past month with you in his embrace and presence. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d gone so long without releasing his cursed energy, it was starting to make him twitch at all the pent up power he had. He’d waited until you fell asleep in his arms before lowering you into the sheets, your body laying perfectly in his bed as he covered you with the blanket. He pushed the curtain away, closing it as his eyes lingered on your body, the blanket laying over you as he moved out of the room. 

He found himself wandering through the woods late, moving to the outskirts of the village territories and making his way deeper to territory he knew a little too well. He sensed an energy that stood out to him, his focus moving towards the waves radiating towards him until he reached his location. His veil did good in keeping him hidden, but he released a small wave of energy to send a flood of chills through every being in town within his proximity. His body moved through the homes, the worn down tavern, and the trader booths until he found exactly what he was looking for so late in the night. 

The sound of moans echoed in his ears, the energy he was tailing radiating from inside the brothel at the very end of the town, hidden amongst the trees for a more private ambiance. He knew exactly what was taking place inside the brothel, but it wasn’t that that bothered him, it was the person inside that did. He sensed Zetsubou inside with multiple women, all of them taking their place in his bed, taking turns pleasuring him or even doing it all at once. His grunts sounded out as the moans that escaped the concubine echoed through the walls. The other women were touching him, their hands on his body as one of them rubbed their body against his while another kissed him in a sloppy manner. 

He would be lying if he said he’d never been in a similar, compromising position. He’d visited these brothels long enough to know exactly who and what he wanted every night he visited. His lust filled ways long gone, no longer causing a rise in him, especially after meeting you. That was the exact reason he was here. For you. 

An anger rose inside of him seeing your supposed future husband laying in a bed being pleasured by concubines just weeks before your wedding. His groans sounded out at the pleasure he was receiving, the moans of the concubines filling the air as he fed into infidelity. He knew all too well that men were never loyal to their wives, always frequenting the brothels for a good time. The sound of Zetsubou slamming the headboard against the wall as he fucked one of the concubines, his curses filling the air as her moans ripped through the night, it all made Sukuna’s anger run deep inside of him. The lack of respect, the complete disregard Zetsubou held for you made him want to snap his neck in half. It would be the perfect way to get you out of the betrothal. 

Even the sounds of the whores in bed with him drove Sukuna mad. They had to know the great Zen’in heir was to be wed to the L/n heir, yet they still chose to lay in bed with him, to be absolutely and disgustingly fucked by the son of a bitch. He listened to the sounds, letting the anger grow inside of him, allowing himself to plot every way he would maim Zetsubou Zen’in alive for ever treating his betrothal as disposable. Something to be disregarded. Disrespected. 

After a while, the moans and the slamming of the headboard stopped, Zetsubou’s voice ringing out as he laid in the sheets with his whores wrapped around his naked body. 

“You ladies definitely know how to show a man a good time.”, he breathed as he let them touch his body, his muscled flexing under their touch. 

“Of course, always special treatment for our best man.”, one of the whores said in a sultry voice. “It’s good to get a good fuck while you still can.”

“Trust me, even in a few weeks I’ll be back. Don’t you worry.”, the sound of Zetsubou kissing one of the women made Sukuna fill with disgust. “You have the best of the best here. Can’t stay committed to some virgin who doesn’t know how to please a man, let alone know how to fuck one.”

His energy spiraled, shoving it down as he continued to listen. 

“That’s right, you need real women, not some uptight spoiled brat.”, another woman spoke out. 

“You can get all the good pussy you want here, baby.”, another called. “We know how to treat a man right. Make you feel everything.”

“That’s all I want.”, his voice vibrated as he kissed the woman again. “C’mon baby, let's go for round two.”

And just like that, the sounds of moans and deep grunts rang out again. The knocking of the head board and the panting of hot breath filling the room. Zetsubou Zen’in was scum. Bottom of the barrel. A fucking no body. 

Sukuna bided his time, waiting deep into the night as he watched the Zen’in heir leave, heading back in the direction of his clan’s territory. Sukuna’s red eyes watched him from the shadows, his anger rising into flames around him, waiting long enough for the worthless son of a bitch to be far enough away before letting the release come. 

Fire consumed the village, everything burning into ash, the smoke filling the air as the sound of screams echoed into the night. The taverns, the trader booths, the homes, all of it catching on fire and burning every single person to a crisp. He saved the brothel for last, waiting for the sound of panic cries to ring out before walking inside and seeing all the concubines who were with the Zen’in heir trying to get out of the burning building. He forced them to stay in place, his presence overwhelming them into fear. He watched as the panic settled into their eyes, their lungs begging for air, their bodies getting burned as the flames licked the walls around them. One of them tried to run out past him, but never made it as he blew her head off in one swift slice. They screamed out, begging him to let them out, crying as he watched in emotionlessness. It wasn’t until their lifeless bodies collapsed on the ground that he left, leaving the burning village behind him as he wandered into the night. He’d burn the whole world down for you. 

Even if it meant starting with those who wronged you first.

“Our entire livestock was burned! We have no more land to grow food in!”, the sound of the Zen’in leader’s voice ringing out during their meeting with your father rang out. You listened in silence, letting yourself sink into the reality of what they were discussing. A small part of you laughing internally at their misfortune. 

Another village burned into flames just two days ago, and last night, the Zen’in’s lost all of their livestock, fertile soil, and sustainable crops. They were all burned to nothing, not even the soil or the seeds were salvageable. 

“We need to get this monster under control. We have to speed up training with our sorcerers and find our strongest men to be put into units to take him out. We cannot let him roam so freely anymore, especially not now that he’s making hits closer to our clan lands.”, the Kamo Clan leader spoke out, his voice soft as he marked the map where Sukuna made his last raid, your eyes peeking in through the slit in the door. That village.. It was right outside the Zen’in borders, it was where Zetsubou frequented the brothels. 

Ryo..

You stepped back, moving back into the hall before making your way to your bedroom, closing the door as you sat on the floor. Did he burn the village down in some act of honor for you or was it just a coincidence? 

The thoughts spiraled in your head, letting yourself undress and change into your dinner clothes, the silence still filling your home ever since your fight with your father almost three days ago. You were a week away from your marriage to Zetsubou, a gnawing in your gut as you stepped out of your room and faced your father. You stood in the doorway before making your way to the dining table and sitting in your regular spot at the very end while your father and mother sat next to one another. 

Then, a rush of energy consumed you all at once. The sensation floods your senses as you feel your body tense. You look at your father, noticing his sudden change in demeanor as one of the maids let out a cry of fear, her shaky voice barely audible as you could hear her motion towards the dining room. 

In all his glory, Sukuna stood tall and unmoving, his body adorned with fine robes and his true form showing as he occupied the space. Making the air impossible to breathe, making everyone except you suffocate in fear. 

Your eyes widened at the sight of him, why was he here?

You watched as your mother raised her hand to her mouth, covering her quivering lips. “What is the meaning of this?” she asked in a shaken tone, your eyes filled with worry as you watched your father fill with anger. 

“Sukuna”, he bowed before the King of Curses, before lifting his head and asking his question. “What brings you into our home this evening?”

Sukuna stared your father down, his true form standing tall and in overwhelming sense of dominance that made your mother cower. Although you showed no fear towards him, you could see why everyone else in the realm did. He was massive, muscular, deadly, his body taking form of a cursed entity. It was no secret that Ryomen Sukuna held an energy that defied all existence, he was far above all beings. 

You tried to stay focused, holding your shock at his sudden appearance back, not wanting them to see your reaction. 

What was he doing? 

“F/n L/n.”, Sukuna’s deep voice echoed. “Leader of the L/n clan. For such a highly renown sorcerer, you sure don’t seem to realize where your greatest assets lie.” He walked further into the room, your father’s jaw clenching noticeably. “You’re ignorant and naïve, choosing to force such a gifted sorcerer, your only daughter and heir into a marriage of mutual gain, of political power.”

“Our family and Clan matters shouldn’t interest you. Now why are you intruding on our home?”. You had to applaud your father’s boldness, asking Sukuna such a demanding question. 

“You’re too mundane, worldly, pitiful.”, you watched as he moved and sat at the table, in between the head where your father and mother sat and the opposite end where you sat. He sat with his legs crossed, leaning his head into his hand before speaking again. “Why arrange for political gain when you could have real power, L/n?”

“What are you talking about Sukuna?”, your father’s words shook slightly. 

“Look at the bigger picture. L/n may be a part of the four families, but in comparison, your poor judgment and lack of support is the reason your family will fail. You seek what humans want. You’re greedy over mundane things”, Hid deep red eyes held your father’s gaze intently, overwhelmingly. “What if I told you that you could have the power of gods?”

“Power of gods?”, your fathers hands fisted in his lap. 

“Yes”, you noticed Sukuna’s red eyes glance at you, softening only when he met your gaze and immediately hardened and dropping when he met your father’s. “You could have real power, real influence, real claim to the realm. It would put you far above the rest of the families, perhaps make you greater than the Gojos.”

You didn’t miss the glint of intrigue in your fathers eyes. Of course bed listen or spare a moment for someone like him. Anything for power, anything for more claim to the realm. Your family wasn’t weak but any means, but your father had slowly started losing connections thanks to his selfishness. It truly would be the end of the L/n family if he didn’t get it together. 

“And how would I possibly gain that? I have nothing to give you in return.” , your father smiled weakly. 

“Simple”, Sukuna leaned his head on his hand, staring at your father blankly before extending a hand and pointing at you. 

“I want Y/n as my bride.” 

[blueberrypancakesworld]

The Farewell before the war

Aegon x aunt!reader

warning : targaryen incest, no use of Y/n, mentioning/implied war and death, kiss, mentioned sex, minor hurt/comfort, some fluff, age gap (Aegon 20s and reader early 40s)

Summary : The war was about to begin and the dance of the dragons would begin as soon as both sides mounted their dragons and both sides raised their swords. The farewell they knew was one that would last forever...a farewell that broke the queer custom of family.

Info : So with season 2 coming up my own sanity and the trauma we all will be getting I have written this as a little something. Have fun reading ;)

ps : He looks so good in the gif

masterlist

~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Screams were the last to echo through the castle as the mood was still as exuberant as it could be. Aegon, crowned king after the death of his father, was the man the young king could say he was glad the Targaryen king had died...finally died.

The only thing he got from his father besides looks was ungratefulness, disgust and hopelessness. His father had never believed in him, never liked him, maybe there was a moment in his life when Aegon was still a helpless little baby that his father was proud of, proud to finally have a son, but that was almost two decades ago and it didn't matter anymore.

Not only did he now have the crown of Maegor on his head. The light-coloured hair that he really hated, which he had kept short a few years ago and was slowly beginning to see as a weapon.

Slowly beginning to see himself as a weapon. His people adored him, his mother was happy, Heleana his beloved sister wife for the first time did not flee reality but enjoyed her role as Queen with their children.

A fact that took guilt from his heart...even if he never wanted to marry her, at least there was this sense of responsibility towards himself, her and their soon to be three children.

His younger brother Aemond no longer simply saw him as that, he recognised him as the rightful dragon he could command and it seemed the respect between them was slowly building as he sat on the throne.

Wearing the colour green of his mother, the green he learned to love the green of his family and the gold of his father, the gold of his other side the gold of his aunt the youngest and only sister of the former king Viserys. The black one created among the golden dragons a firewyrm a dragon born without wings.

Her actual twin, Prince Aegon, died less than a year later. Daemon and Viserys have always secretly blamed her for the death of their mother because she caused the complications. Of course, only a woman could do this. But it was his aunt that the new and young king had adored for years.

She never saw him for what he was. A mistake a challenge for anyone. No, he was ,,My perfect dragon" as she had always called him ever since he could remember. Whether it was accompanying him to his chamber and looking after him when he was drunk on wine or milk of the poppy.

She was always there for him with open arms, encouraging him when it came to important adventures, taking care of his injuries at the hands of the king, the queen or his own grandfather. She was also the one who gave him something he had wanted from her for a long time.

Something he knew he would eventually have to share with his wife, but the mere thought of his own sister... no, it disgusted him, which is why the then prince came to his aunt in the chambers. Perhaps it was the wine, her evening dress that lay so light and airy on her body, the colour gold that caught his eye.

She never wore red or black, preferring gold instead. It was a few years ago that he could finally have her, he didn't care that she was older than his own mother. It didn't matter that they had the same blood, it didn't matter that they were princess and prince.

It didn't matter that when he kissed her, tasting the sweet fruit, he was almost trembling with rejection. Her gentle hands laid on his as she tried to push him away for a moment but he wouldn't let her. He deserved love and appreciation too, his teary grey blue eyes looking up at her violet ones.

It was those eyes they both couldn't get away from as she let her own nephew touch her again. He remembered his insecurity but was always reassured by her voice.

The wine that influenced his senses was taken away by her. The pain from the last blow faded as she kissed his cheek. Her warm, soft body beneath his, his hands touching hers came together and they held each other.

He felt safe, he was worth loving and she could give her love to someone. His lips on her body, kissing every part of her, watching her move beneath him. Surprised by his own almost clumsy noises when she soothed him with kisses.

He wasn't used to being treated so…gently and lovingly. She really showed him what it meant to be loved and not just a fuck with a whore. It was the night that not only he learnt what it meant to be a dragon it was the night he promised her that one day she would no longer be a firewyrm.

,,You will become a dragon one day, Princess...I promise," he had said to her as he lay beside her, but there was a determination in his gaze that seemed to burn like fire between them then. When he took her hand in a tender, almost gentle gesture, her fingers kissed his while she stroked his light-coloured, tousled hair.

His eyes met hers again, ,,You are so beautiful " he had murmured, almost amused at how easily he could make his aunt blush. ,,Aegon...you perfect naive dragon," she had replied and pulled him close, but he had sensed that she was trembling.

At the time he had thought it was from the act, but now he knew she had been crying silently. She had cried for him because she knew that the gods would punish him more severely than her. But now it had been years and had anything changed?

He had children with his own sisters, more princes and a princess, his three little dragons, his own flesh and blood that he guarded. His mother, the Queen Dowager, seemed to be suffering even more than usual after the aftermath that had taken over the entire court.

Aemond, his own brother, had killed their common nephew Lucerys Velaryon. ,,Our sister's second bastard is dead," he had muttered as he withdrew from the small council, a smile trying to steal onto his lips but unable to do so.

He couldn't not in the knowledge that the fire inside him was telling him it wasn't over yet. Oh how right he was to be as the banners were lowered to their respective sides and the weapons were forged. So it was his duty to go into battle, not on the throne but on his dragon Sunfyre.

But it was during this time when he was training with his brother and sworn sword Criston Cole that her golden dress became less and less visible. A sadness emanated from her when he saw her, his own naive anticipation only seemed to fuel her fear.

But no matter what he tried, no smile would appear on her lips until the day he stood alone in the dragon pit and the golden sun had not yet fully risen. His eyes were fixed with fascination on his dragon, the most beautiful dragon that ever existed, a pride he was only too happy to show.

He heard someone, footsteps come to him as Sunfyre gave an almost cheerful hiss and moved his head in the direction of the entrance. ,,A golden morning for two beautiful naive perfect dragons" he heard her voice after days if not weeks and stopped in front of his dragon as he just watched her.

She no longer wore the gold, on the contrary it was his own colour reflected in his eyes. A dress with armour elements in green and gold that Targaryen had turned green.

A warrior, a dragon rider without a dragon, a diplomat who would be dispatched with a sword if she had to. ,,Naive? The fire on the war we will win," he said faster than he thought and heard her cagey laugh, which was underlined by a roar from Sunfyre. Perhaps there was once a possibility of a connection between the two of them, but these were years away.

His princess aunt approached him and placed her hand on the dragon's muzzle, the warmth seeming to soothe them both before she placed her hand on her king's cheek. ,,You know the distribution of troops, the numbers...the dragons and yet Aegon you maintain the notion of victory...a future of fire" she began, looking back at the dragon who also watched her, the beast though as old as its rider seemed to know what it would mean once they flew away from Kingslanding.

It would mean a war in which the green were outnumbered, a war of force and violence, a war in which once again she could do nothing without a dragon of her own.

A thought that Aegon slowly seemed to understand as he placed his hand on hers, his armour rattling slightly but still maintaining his slight, almost cheeky grin. ,,A war yes, but I promised you a dragon...a dragon of iron you shall have" he said, seeing with pleasure her confusion as he took her hand and led her lightly to the entrance of the dragon pit.

Despite everything, he held her tightly, held her firmly, held her as a king should, held the woman he loved, held the thing that had given him what he had always needed. Love.

She could feel the gold of the morning sun shining on them both as his hand gently wrapped around her hip, a grin on his face as he pointed to the castle, directly to the site of the throne room. ,,A dragon of iron that you will rule in my absence... and my death if it comes," he said so lightly that she thought for a moment he had lost his mind, but no, when she turned to him she saw that he meant it.

That for a moment he didn't seem naive was not beside him. He truly seemed like a king who kept promises, like someone who also recognised and believed in her. ,,You promised," she whispered, feeling a weight lift from her, the tension, the fear, the lies that were in the face of her own brothers' hatred.

She was something, she was a dragon of iron...the true king had promised her and kept his promise. ,,Oh my dear Aegon," she said and only seconds later felt his lips on hers again, his hands holding her close then as now.

His scent of leather, metal and fire met her sweet smell of smoke. ,,A farewell to the true queen who will be now," he replied, pulling her a little tighter against him.

A kiss goodbye, a kiss with a promise of a goodbye as the sun rose over the city and Aegon with Sunfyre, Aemond set upon Vhagar and the troops.

A farewell they knew would be one of the last as she sat on the throne that was gold and green and the princess received her promise in the midst of a war of fire and blood.

~~~~~~~~~~~~

[ride-thedragon]

I know many people like to imagine a harmonious co-parenting situation between Harwin, Rhaenyra, and Laenor, but I believe there might be some underlying tension. Take, for instance, the moment when Joffrey was born. Harwin said, "My turn," while Laenor was emotional and gushing over baby Joffrey. It felt like Harwin was trying to stake his claim. As Rhaenyra's sworn shield, Harwin would be present during most of their family moments. This constant presence could create an uneasy dynamic. Just imagine Laenor having to watch Harwin trying to bond with his sons, and vice versa for Harwin, seeing another man freely be a father to the boys. The whole "my turn" bit makes me think Harwin was quite insistent on having his time with the kids, which could easily get on Laenor's nerves. Sometimes, it feels like there is an imbalance in Laenor and Rhaenyra's marriage. Rhaenyra always insists on the boys' Targaryen roots, which is all well and good, but the boys are more worried about not looking Velaryon enough and "their" Velaryon roots. While Laenor might not be their biological dad, he’s still their father in every other way, and the weight of his role is deeply invested in their identity.

I honestly don't like Harwin at all. I do agree with this reading, though, the reason I don't like him his because he was starting to risk the kids for what he deemed to be his right as their dad. That's really fucking dumb. I know that people frame it as a love is the death of duty type of deal, but it isn't. Its ego is the death of common sense. Sorry to him. He and Rhaenyra do suffer the same plight of their own self-importance having a negative impact on their kids.

As for Laenor, I can see that. I've talked about it before, but Laenor’s place seems to be whatever is convenient, and it happens so quickly after he loses Joffrey. I'm not a believer in the happy dynamic at all, and I can see the stake a claim argument because, essentially, that's what Lyonel was telling Harwin. I dont think he was as insistent as he was with Joffrey, though. It wouldn't make much sense to get so close so early on with Luke and Jace, but Joffrey seems to have changed the dynamic. He could have a kid that's his yk.

I don't know why the boys were dressed like that. I try and try to make sense of it as Rhaenyra staking claim, but that doesn't make sense because of her insistence with Laenor. Kings Landing actually has them in blues, reds, and black, but when they grow up, they aren't wearing a blue in sight, which is just dumb.

By the end, though, the boys aren't raised anywhere close to Driftmark, and Laenor isn't present. The Velaryons on the whole are treated badly by the show even in this season Baela, the ward of Driftmark isn't in blue or anything alluding to it.

I do think they are more focused on the adjusted accepting bastardy angle rather than giving them that Velayron tie at this point, which is sad. They like the basrardy but not who it comes from? Or trying to signal otherwise.

Overall, Laenor deserved better. He doesn't even get the chance to do anything wrong.

[crow-aeris]

In honor of mermay, but not related to any prompts:

“I don’t trust that guy,” Jason narrowed his eyes, jabbing a finger at the weird not-human and his half-human son chatting with fully-human Bruce and fully-human Alfred.

“Relax, Jay,” their fully selkie not-human brother drawls with his legs in their giant pool filled with aquarium-grade water, “It’s just Uncle Clark with his son.”

Tim shrugs, “I dunno, they look weird… and smell weird. Cass says theyre- and I quote- really weird, if Cass says they’re weird? Sorry, Dick, they’re weird.”

“So…” Dick puts on a cheshire smile and leans forward, “you can even say they’re Super -weird? Eh? Wha- AUGH!”

Tim yelped, flinging himself out of the pool as Jason lurched forward to yank the selkie into the water. Cass was laughing below the surface, a wide smile on her face as Dick floundered and screeched. Jason had his claws hooked into the selkie’s pants with a bright grin.

“BRUCE!” Dick screeched, the sound of struggle clear within this floor of the manor, and Tim pulls his caudul fin out of the water in disgust, “ALFRED! HELP, I’M- AUAGDHGAGAHDHFPFPSPFGSAGO—”

“What is going on here?” Bruce walked over to examine the scene with an incredulous expression, “Jason, let your brother go!”

The lionfish mer hissed in displeasure, but released the selkie after a stern look from the butler.

“BRUCE!” Dick gasped dramatically, clawing himself onto the floor. His Pelt remained dry, but everything else about Dick was sopping wet. There was even a puddle forming under him.

Tim eyed him warily, flattening his cranial fin as Damian approached with the other half-human, half not-human spawn of the not-human Dick had named “Clark”.

“Grayson, cease you incessant chatter,” Damian huffed before addressing his… “friend”, “Jon, feast your eyes upon our mers.”

The older human walked over while Bruce ranted to Clark about his children’s “dramatics”. Meanwhile, Damian was still talking, “Timothy is a pedigree mer. He is born of a prestigious bloodline, and his scales echo his worth. The previous humans he resided with were not providing him with the proper enrichment a mer of his value should have, and so Father rescued him.”

Tim grimaced at the human’s description before glancing at his red-dappled tail, “Thanks?”

“What do you have to say about me?” Jason swam over and propped himself upon the ledge of the pool with a grin.

Damian sniffed and gave Jason a side-long glare while “Jon” giggled.

“He looks pretty,” the bright boy commented while his… brother(?) hummed.

“I think this guy looks prettier, kinda like a koi.”

Jon examined Tim’s tail before nodding, “Hmm, you’re right!”

Tim frowned, feeling suddenly self conscious at the attention.

Damian sniffed, “Please do not scrutinize Timothy! He is a sensitive mer, and I will not allw you to unsettle him! Jason, on the other hand, is hardier- though I advise you to keep a healthy distance from his spines. His piscine breed is that of a lionfish-”

Jason grins and flashes his fins like the show-off he is.

“-and Father rescued him from an illegal mer trade,” Damian finished.

“What about her down there?” the older half-human asked, peer down at Cass, who popped up to wave and tap Tim’s tail. With a smile, he flicked his tail and artfully drenched the older half-human with the pool water.

“Kon!” the little one exclaimed in shock, and Tim darted away before Bruce coild spot him.

“Jason!” Bruce called again, “We don’t splash guests either!”

“But-!”

“I doesn’t matter if he was annoying, we don’t splash guests!” Bruce sighed in exasperation before returning to his conversation with an amused Clark and an equally entertained Alfred.

Damian continued on with his infodumping, “Cassandra is a mer who escaped from a facility ran by my grandfather, who was trying to create the ultimate weapon for marine warfare.”

“Oh!” Kon blinked in surprise, “That… was not what I was expecting!”

“I kinda feel bad for them,” Jon commented, but Jason waved him off.

“Don’t worry about Cass. If she was in any real danger, she’ll just electrocute you and then rip your throat out!”

“That’s so cool!” Jon chirped eagerly while Kon remained slightly peturbed.

Tim shrugged, “I guess, but it’s kinda… just our lives. Dick has seen so much more of the world than any of us.”

“Maybe, but he’s an asshole,” Jason replied and Cass nodded in agreement. The selkie jerked upright with an affronted gasp and a mock-offended expression.

“Excuse me! I am not an asshole!”

“Mhm, sure not,” Jason countered with a flap of his hand. Before Dick could continue his defense, Bruce approached once more with Clark and Alfred at his side.

The not-human helped Dick to his feet before addressing the two half-human boys, “Alright, boys. It’s getting pretty late, so we should head back to the farm before Ma and Pa worry.”

The boys chorused their agreement before… floating and flying out of the manor? Tim thinks that not-human and his half-human sons were weird.

Bruce took in a breath before kneeling down in front of them, “Okay, kids. I know your thoughts on strangers in the manor-”

Jason interrupted with a flat expression, “If they weren’t kids, then I would’ve stung them.”

Tim huffed as Bruce’s expression tightened, “Okay, I wouldn’t have done something as extreme as Jason, but I really don’t like strangers in the manor… I kinda don’t mind that Kon, though.”

“What?! Tim!” Jason gasped in offense and Tim groans.

“Shut up, Jason! He had shiny things, okay!”

“Timmy has a crush!” Cass teased swimming over to wrap herself around Tim’s torso and drag him underwater. Very wisely, Tim decided it was in his best interest to not fight with the electric eel.

“Ugh, I wish I’d sting him sooner!”

“You will not be stinging anyone,” Bruce admonished, and Tim could hear Jason boo in dissatisfaction before joining Cass and Tim underwater.

“Father, I support Jason’s idea,” Damian chimed in, “we should allow him to sting Timothy’s potential paramore, for Timothy is a regal creature and shall not be paired up with such a thing below his standing!”

Tim groans in exasperation, the sound echoed by Bruce as he thrashed his red-white tail. Suddenly, the water churned and a ringed seal joined them in the pool, his eyes bright with mischief and whimsy.

As Bruce watched his fish (and seal) children tussel together underwater, he pulls Damian close against his side. Alfred rests his hand on Bruce’s shoulder, and the man cannot help but marvel at how far all of them have come since their first introduction into this… messy and patchwork family who now all call the Wayne Manor home…

Bruce could not be happier.

(here’s like, the prequel)

[myz-wykkyd]

My DMC oc and my take on Nero's mother/The lady in red. Her name is Julia De Bellona- an accomplished devil hunter and the former Supreme General of the Order of the Sword. Oh boy, this character, this character. Originally created her sometime when I was around 13 or 14 after playing the OG trilogy of games for the first time. She's changed a lot over the years and I honestly don't recall ever having worked this hard to develop a character before in my life LOL I haven't gotten everything written down yet, but I'm really proud of what I have managed to do.

Her wip TH profile can be found here. (Note- BIG WIP)

More Info under the cut. TW: for character death I guess?

NAME: Julia De Bellona

GENDER: Female (She/Her)

AGE: Early Twenties @ TOD | Immortal

SPECIES: Human (Formerly. See picture above.), Artificial Demon (Currently)

AFFILIATION: The Order of the Sword (Formerly) |

OCCUPATION: Holy Knight (Formerly) | Ruler of the Underworld (Currently)

RANK: Supreme General (Formerly) | Queen (Currently)

Prior to the rise of Sanctus, Julia's family, The Bellona, ruled over Fortuna as Feudal Lords- a position entrusted to them by Sparda himself prior to his disappearance. Throughout the generations, their primary goal was to protect humanity from demonic threats- which earned the love of their people and eventually led to the founding of The Order of the Sword; an organization of knights equipped and trained to defeat their evil foes. Julia was born from this long, accomplished line of devil hunters; but her abilities far exceeded those of her ancestors and allowed her to become one of the greatest devil hunters of her age- despite the fact that for most of her life, she was only a mere human.

Compassionate, capable, and determined, Julia rose quickly through the ranks of the Order and was the youngest Supreme General the Order of the Sword had ever seen- but she handled the position with a wisdom that surpassed her years. Under her careful guard, Fortuna was at peace for many years. But shortly after her promotion, she would meet a mysterious stranger who would change her life forever.

Vergil, one of the sons of Sparda, traveled to Fortuna seeking information on the Order and its former ruler in his quest for power. They begin in opposition, but the cold man would eventually win Julia’s heart. Though her compassion and plea to live a life of peace by her side appealed to her lover’s long buried humanity, Vergil chose to cast it and her aside to continue on his journey. Though heartbroken by the loss- she soon discovered that he had left a part of himself with her forever in the form of a child- A son she named Nero.

The following is a rough outline of the rest of her story.

A few months after Nero’s birth, Julia learns of the emergence of the Temen-ni-gru, one of the many gateways to the underworld sealed by Sparda after the war between humans and devils ended. Remembering Vergil’s quest for power, she leaves Fourtuna to stop him herself, but by the time she arrives in the city the events of DMC 3 have already unfolded. Wanting answers, Julia learns from several frightened locals that a white-haired man running a mysterious shop was responsible for ending the threat. Curious and slightly hopeful, she makes her way to the newly named “Devil May Cry” and meets Dante, Vergil’s twin brother, for the first time. 

Seeing the identical twin of her former lover is deeply off putting at first, but Dante doesn’t notice. He initially thinks she’s some kind of reporter when she asks for the story of what went on in the tower, and remains uncooperative until Julia successfully manages to bribe him with Pizza. He tells her everything but what she really wants to hear; but from their conversation Julia is able to piece together that the man who was responsible for the catastrophe died within the demon world.  

After leaving the shop Julia decides to investigate the ruins of the Temen-ni-gru. While walking amongst the debris, numb with grief, she is surprised to discover the Yamato amongst the wreckage. After pulling it free, she remains there for several hours debating with herself on the wisdom of her next decision, but she eventually gives into temptation and uses the Yamato to travel to the demon world to search for Vergil herself. 

Two long, brutal weeks full of fights and close calls with demons pass. Julia searched long and hard, but eventually, after she was unable to find any trace of him,  she was finally forced to admit Vergil was really gone. She retreats back into the human world using the Yamato and returns home.

Julia intermittently returns to the demon world to continue searching for Vergil. Almost a year later, she finds him (Or rather, finds Nelo Angelo) held captive and unresponsive. After a brief, but explosive battle with Mundas, Julia escapes with Vergil back to the human world. 

This encounter is witnessed by Machiavelli, the creator of Nelo Angelo, who is immediately intrigued that a human would risk her life for a demon.

Uncertain how to awaken him, she seeks out Agnus and asks for his aid in helping Vergil.

A/N: studying Vergil in this timeframe is what gives Angus the inspiration to build the false angels.

Agnus betrays Julia by turning in all his discoveries (her possession of the Yamato, her apparent relationship with a demon) over to Sanctus. Who takes it upon himself to execute the “traitor”. In a cruel twist of fate, he stabs her with Vergil’s own sword. The blade is shattered by a sudden, mysterious surge of power. My personal hc is that just as the sword recognized Nero, the sword recognized Julia, and it shattering was due to it being forced to do something that went against such an important connection.

A/N: Explaining both how the Order manages to get their hands on the sword and why it's broken.

As Julia lays dying, Nelo Angelo/Vergil finally awakens. Recognizing Julia on some level, he does not like what he sees, and slaughters Sanctus’ terrified guards. Forcing the Vicar and Angus to flee for their lives.  

With their enemies vanquished, Nelo Angelo/Vergil touches Julia’s face. But in that moment, Julia's thoughts are consumed by worry for Nero. And with her bit a strength, pleads with the Dark Knight to save their son before Sanctus finds him.

He obliged her last wish, taking an infant Nero from Julia’s home to the orphanage where Nero would grow up in.

A/N: Wrapped the crying boy up in his black cape before his departure. Staff of the orphanage would continue to call him Nero as a result.

Sanctus falsely frames Julia as a traitor to the people she had spent her life protecting- and Sanctus orders that all traces of her and her family be erased / never spoken of again. Explaining why she isn’t mentioned in game.

Julia’s body disappears afterwards/is never found by Sanctus. Debating, but my current thought is Nelo Angelo/Vergil took her to Machiavelli, whose spent the last 20+ years reviving her and turning her into the perfect demon. Knowing that she would be a Queen worth following.

A/N: Explaining that Machiavelli isn't dead, he's actually just been working on his Magnum opus this entire time.

After the events of DMC 5, Julia finally awakens and takes over the demon world in the absence of Urizen. She's lost most of her memory from her time as a human and doesn't realize how long it's been- but she recalls she has a son and that's in the human world, in a city called Fortuna, and is determined to find him-

[sellensand]

The truth about the Golden Lineage

Ok sooo I've just had a MASSIVE realization about Godfrey's children with Marika and I need to share it with the Elden Ring lore community. I have no idea if anyone has already put this theory forward, but as soon as it crossed my mind I knew I had to write it down before I forgot about it.

ELDEN RING SPOILERS BELOW.

I had always kind of assumed that Godwyn the Golden was Godfrey and Marika's firstborn child. This is not stated anywhere though, it was no more than an assumption on my behalf. So I began to wonder... what if the omen twins were actually older than Godwyn? What if they were Marika's first children with Godfrey? The Crucible predates the Golden Age of the Erdtree after all...

Once again, I had always assumed that Morgott and Mohg were thrown into the sewers of Leyndell as soon as they were born, which doesn't really make any sense considering:

- They are both quite well-spoken. They don't act like they were brought up by giant slugs and rats with no contact with the outside world. They are not like the feral omens we fight in the sewers.

- They had to use special shackles in order to keep them down there. As if... they would try to escape. To go back home. Someone had to make sure they never got out.

- They brought at least one doll with them. Newborn babies don't play with dolls, children do.

- Godfrey's words towards Morgott ("It's been a long while...") and the way he holds his son's dead body imply they once knew each other. They once had some kind of relationship. And I'm inclined to believe that Morgott remembers and loves his father too: as SmoughTown points out in his latest video, the magic seal from which Godfrey's golden ghost appears is the exact same Crucible seal that Morgott uses when he "teleports". Morgott created a spectral protector of the Erdtree in the image of his father (I'm about to cry).

So, if Mo & Mo once lived in the surface, why were they shunned? Well, here comes the crazy part. Once upon a time, in the Age of the Crucible, horns, scales, wings and other beastly parts were considered sacred, divine. They were the manifestation of the power of the Tree, from which all life begins, where all life is blended together. With Godfrey being a man from the Age of the Crucible (his knights are the Crucible Knights), it is possible that his first children with Marika, Mo & Mo, were actually revered when they were born.

However, at some point, something motivated Marika to change the dogma. The conquest of the Mountaintops of the Giants gave way to the Golden Age of the Erdtree. All things Crucible were suddenly frown upon. Lord Godfrey and his warriors were exiled from the Lands Between. And the omen twins had to be forsaken.

LUCKILY the royal couple had produced another child, one more in line with the religious ideals of the new age: Godwyn, a perfectly built golden boy, without any Crucible in him. A strikingly handsome prince, with a gorgeous set of long, androginous, golden hair, who we've only seen wearing a beautifully embroidered skirt. His looks and his fashion sense always reminded me of a certain red-headed champion of the Golden Age of the Erdtree...

Has anyone else noticed that the items related to the Prince of Death require both Faith and Intelligence? I'm talking about the Prince of Death's Staff (allegedly made out of a fragment of Godwyn's corpse) and all of the Death sorceries (which said staff boosts). You know which other items also require both of those stats, right? Well, as far as I know, only Rykard's Magma sorceries and the Golden Order incantations need both Fai and Int to be used. And the Sword of Night and Flame, yes, a Carian heirloom hidden in their Manor.

HUH. I wonder what the Carian royal family and Golden Order Fundamentalism have in common... OH, I KNOW. They are both connected to Radagon, the champion who aspired to be complete by dominating both sorceries and incantations.

My point is... What if Godwyn is not Godfrey's? What if he's Radagon's? What if he was Marika's first attempt at having descendants by herself? She was devastated by Godwyn's death because he was her favorite, her perfect golden boy, a personification of the Golden Order and a living proof that she was the One True God.

Now let's have some fun with this theory. We all know about Miquella's obsession with Godwyn ("O brother, lord brother..."). Some have speculated that the statue of the older figure embracing young Miquella and Malenia in Loretta's arena in the Haligtree might be Godwyn, because it doesn't sport Marika/Radagon's signature braid and the asset is apparently flat-chested (according to Vaati's Miquella Lore video).

Did either Miquella or Godwyn know the truth? Was Godwyn particularly protective of the Empyrean twins because they were more than just his half-siblings? I honestly don't know, buy it's not hard to imagine what they felt after their older brother's murder...

I obviously don't have all the answers, but if all of the above was true, it would mean that the whole Golden Lineage is built on a lie, because the firstborn male heir of Godfrey was not only not the firstborn at all, but he was also not Godfrey's! This would be so GRRM it's insane! Even Godrick's pride and his fondness of Lion iconography becomes all the more ridiculous!

Am I going too far with this? Please let me know if I'm losing my mind over this game.

(Oh and link me to any similar theories if you know of any, because I can't be the only one crazy enough to have thought about this).

[honeyynymphh]

An Ever-Fixed Mark

|| Otto Hightower x Fem!Reader/OC || Rating: T (for now) Chapter: 1 of 5 Words: 2.8k

Married to Aemond Targaryen, life at court has not been what Lady Brakenwyn ever imagined. It is monotonous and lifeless inside the Red Keep with a husband who does care for her and who would rather spend coin in the slums of Kings Landing than with his own wife. She can't help but let her mind wander and yearn for the affections of a man who pays her the slightest attention - a man that she cannot have: the Hand of the King. Tags: pining, forbidden romance, infidelity, author is prone to purple prose (tags will be updated as story progresses) Ao3 Link

A/N: This story is in first person so can be read as a reader insert or as an OC, she is not described nor does she have a first name. No Y/N. Reader is married to Aemond but he is barely in the story. I have not read any books so I am operating on vibes mostly. I just want to write about that old man.

How embarrassing it was to be wed to a child. At least, that was what I felt my life had become. While Aemond Targaryen was a man grown, he still clung to the temperament of boyhood and delighted too much in the station he had been born with. The banquet hall was loud and raucous with the sound of happy chatter and laughter. Though I felt no joy as I sat at the large table on my own, watching my husband whisper to some other lady in a dark corner. I knew our marriage was nothing more than a political alliance and also some sort of punishment for the prince. Or perhaps not a punishment, but a desperate hope that he would act more as a prince should if he were wed. So quickly had I seen the foolishness in such a notion that I was surprised anyone had thought our union was a good idea.

I sighed and stared into my wine cup. I wished to be anywhere but here in the Red Keep, and certainly not at this name day celebration for a man I had tried to love and only grown to resent. As soon as I had arrived in King’s Landing I felt as if I didn’t belong. Where I was older than the prince, I felt out of place in court amongst those my own age. The other ladies were polite but we had not grown together so to them I was nothing but an outsider. The queen was kind to me, in a sort of distant fashion. I felt her disappointment in me, as if I could fix Aemond and unite mother and son once more - more foolishness. I snuck a glance at her and could see the annoyance that caused her lovely face to frown as she watched her second son.

“My lady, would you dance with me?”

The words startled me from my musings and I glanced across the table to see Ser Henry, at least I was sure that was his name. I knew him to be one of Prince Aegon’s Kingsguard, though I frequently saw him speaking with Aemond. He seemed to be the only one who even acknowledged my existence. I was certain that my husband had sent him over to me, to entertain me…to keep me happy. Aemond treated me as if I were one of the family’s dragons, not that I was capable of much strength nor fire breathing or flight. But I was capable of making more little baby dragons and that was all my worth had become, not that he put any effort into such an endeavor.

I forced a smile on my face and nodded at the knight, before making my way towards him. I took his proffered hand and let him lead me into the crush of people dancing amongst the glowing candelabras. I barely paid attention to anything but the music, the glorious sound of lutes and harps mingling together to create such beautiful sounds as I let him lead me across the floor. This I knew would be the closest I ever came to flying, no matter how hard I prayed to the gods to give me wings so I could leave this place.

“He says you should try and look happy,” whispered Ser Henry, his lips barely moving.

My face twitched but I mostly kept it blank as I stared at a point over his armoured shoulder.

“Maybe he should try and make me happy,” I said.

“Lady Brakenwyn.”

It was just my name, my old name, but it was a warning. The ‘Lady from the Riverlands’ was all I was to those in King’s Landing, even though I had not set foot there since I had been a child. As a ward of House Hightower, I had spent most of my life in Oldtown and had assumed I’d be promised to someone in the Reach. How I wish my mother hadn’t been such a scheming woman and my father so happy let her do as she pleased.

“He will send you back to the Riverlands.”

In a box, was clearly left unsaid. Foolishness on my part, that had been, to think my mother would be content with a match from a noble house in the Reach. No, my houses’ army and fealty was worth a Prince.

I held my tongue, not wishing to argue when I knew it would be in vain. It was pointless the threats, I knew they needed my parents fealty and would not displease House Brakenwyn by sending back their only child in a wooden casket. How stupid I had been a year ago to think coming to King’s Landing would be like in the stories, that I would be happy to be wed to a prince and to live in such a castle with the rulers of Westeros. How I missed how hopeful and joyous I had been before coming here.

But I would not let my melancholy ruin one of my only pleasures as Ser Henry continued to sweep me across the stone floor, his steps were a little erratic and his grip unsure but it improved my mood drastically. The music changed, the melody becoming more upbeat and while I could not recall the name of it, I knew it well. It was accompanied by a simple dance that involved changing partners and swinging steps, it was the sort of dance better suited for warm nights outside, not trapped in a stone room. But that didn’t deter me, I was happy as I switched Ser Henry to dance with a stout but cheerful nobleman, red in the face from drink who laughed heartily as he spun me around. I couldn't help but laugh in response to his merriment, even as he repeatedly stood on my feet. My spirits grew when I heard the sound of Princess Helaena’s laughter drift towards me. My head turned to see her as she danced with her grandfather, who smiled at her in such a way that I wished so desperately to have bestowed upon my own person.

It would not do for me to stare, and I did try not to, but I couldn’t help it as the dance drew us near. Helaena smiled dreamily at me, as was her way, before I was suddenly in the arms of the Hand of the King. Unlike the unsure grip of Ser Henry and the over eagerness of the drunken nobleman, Otto Hightower held me with an assuredness and reverence that made my heart swell. The Hand was one of the few people I spoke to at length, as I frequently saw him in the castle library. His gentle manner and keen mind had managed to captivate me, and though I knew it was fatuous to have such thoughts about a man, not only so much older than I, but the grandfather of my own husband, I could do nothing to stop the growing fondness I felt for him.

I smiled at him, unable to help how earnest it was despite my inner admonishments. Afterwards, I would pray that he only thought my exuberance due to the dancing and not him. I didn’t wish to embarrass myself. Unfortunately, or perhaps fortunately in the case of idiotic fantasies, I was back with Ser Henry, watching as Ser Otto and Helaena were lost in the crowd.

“That’s better, my lady,” said Ser Henry at the expression on my face. “You look so much prettier when you smile. Perhaps you should dance more often.”

I merely nodded in response, it was pointless to speak any further.

When my feet throbbed, no thanks to the drunken nobleman, I returned to the high table and gave my thanks to Alicent, who had been busy attentively whispering in the King’s ear, before slinking out of the Great Hall and to my chambers. I had no desire to speak to Aemond, I had already given him my well wishes in the morning and that had been received as well as anything I ever said to him, which was mostly indifference.

It was much cooler in the empty corridors of the Keep and the silence a welcome respite from the manic noise of the celebrations. I walked distractedly until I pushed through the heavy door and into my room. My chambers were linked to Aemond’s, though it was a passage several feet in length with a heavy door at each end. His door was frequently locked. At first I had locked my own until I realised he had a key and would let himself in, usually to cast judgements upon me. I thought our shared interest in reading would have brought us close but all it did was earn his ire. He didn’t trust me and I had learnt not to trust him. I did not know where Aegon spent most of his nights, or more aptly, whom he spent them with. But I did not care, as long as he left me alone.

The next day dawned slowly, the sun's rays gradually filtering through the high windows of the windows of the Red Keep as if she too were reluctant to rise from her bed. I usually awoke early, preferring to spend the morning in the godswood as it was often empty, though I allowed myself a longer rest after the nights dancing. The bird calls were gentle and the breeze soft when I reached the godswood. Sometimes out here I could pretend I was not trapped in a prison of stone as I sat on a bench and let the wind gently caress my face, the fresh air lifting my spirits. It was a tranquil place that felt disconnected from the Red Keep in a way that I relished. I had chosen a dress of periwinkle blue, I so rarely wore the colours of House Targaryen - a small rebellion on my part, and I admired the way the sunlight made the fabric glitter, reminding me of the Honeywine River during twilight.

I did not linger long as I knew Ser Otto would be in the library at this time, he did not spend every day there but I had learnt his routine without even thinking to do so. Every so often, I made sure to arrive either early or late, so that it would not seem as if I followed him like some unwanted shadow. Perhaps all we would say to each other would be a greeting, but it was enough to keep my melancholy at bay. There were few comfortable chairs but many tables, usually covered in scrolls and other texts. Ser Otto was fond of a small desk in one of the alcoves as it was near a high window, the light filtering through making it easier to read. One of the few chairs that were nearby was my favourite as it allowed me to curl within it like a cat so I could read and bask in the warmth of the sunshine. I hadn’t even noticed him the first time we had shared that little alcove.

I took my usual spot, opening the book I had been reading and settled in. The Hand had not arrived yet and I was uncertain as to whether he would come today after last night. I knew a council meeting would be held soon and surely he would prefer to rest before attending. But my disappointment at these thoughts were short lived when I heard his measured footsteps, I knew the sound by heart. I pretended not to notice him until his low and soft gravelly words greeted me. That was all we said before he sat down to work. I did not ask what he did, I didn’t think it was my business to enquire into the workings of the Hand of the King, but I was glad for it.

I shouldn’t have observed him as closely as I did. My eyes shouldn’t have lingered over the way his hand held the quill and how deftly it would sweep across the page as he took notes. Occasionally, while reading, he would lick the tip of his finger so he could turn a page. I’d feel my breath stick in my throat then as if I could feel his mouth upon my own body. Aemond rarely lay with me, I think I could count upon one hand the few times we had been together as husband and wife. But when we had, he had been so bare, so smooth—the only hair on him that which was on his head. If it wasn’t for his eye, he would be a blank canvas. Ser Otto looked worn in the way that a favourite book did. There were stories there. How I yearned deep in the pit of my belly to trace the lines of his face and to feel his beard scratch against my inner thigh.

I took in a shuddering breath at that thought and looked away, feeling the heat suffuse my face. I knew he was looking at me then and I heard the creak of his chair as he came to stand before me.

“My lady, are you well?” His low voice rumbled and I nodded my head in response. “Are you certain?”

I gathered my scattered wits and looked up at him. “Yes, my lord hand.”

He smiled at me, a small but reassuring quirk of the lips. I treasured it, even though I knew it was nothing more than some sort of perfunctory affection on his part. I was the wife of one of his grandchildren and from a house aligned with the Hightowers. I knew this to be true yet I could not squash the terrible hope within me that he meant it.

I knew I needed to stop this ridiculous fascination. But I clung to it, even more so in the nights. When I lay alone and in the silence of the Keep, with nothing more than the sound of rain pouring against the glass panes, I would think of him and pretend he held me. That he would whisper such sweet things in my ear and offer comfort that I had not felt in years…comfort I don’t think I’d ever truly felt.

Perhaps it was the unattainable nature of it all that enthralled me so. It was a safe dream to have, even though it gnawed at my guilty conscience. Why should I not have such thoughts? It wasn’t as if I were the one spending most nights in the Street of Silk. Even if I had shared a room with my husband, I would have been alone.

The seventh day was tomorrow and I knew I would have to pray even harder for my fanciful mind. I looked down at the book in my lap and tried to go back to the passage I was reading but I barely took a word in.

“It was good to see you enjoying the evening’s festivities during Aemond’s name day celebrations.”

I looked up at Ser Otto again to find his attention was still fixed on me as he waited for my response.

“You dance very well,” I said, wishing I had something more intelligent to say.

“For an old man?”

I blanched and hastily tried to correct his assumptions. “No! I didn’t mean that, Lord Hand, I was simply expressing my commendation.” I shifted awkwardly in my chair. “I do not think you are old.”

The man smiled, an eyebrow raising in amusement. I realised suddenly he had been jesting with me.

“It’s been a long time,” he said with a sigh, “but if your only comparison is Ser Henry and Lord Lyrmount, then I would seem full of grace.” He smiled again at me, it was small but conspiratorial in the way it lingered about his mouth. “I hope your feet have recovered well enough.”

“Yes, thank you,” I replied even as my feet throbbed in remembrance of Lord Lyrmount's clumsy steps.

He said no more and I knew our conversation ended for the day, but how I treasured it and the small but pleasurable smiles he had given me. He packed his things then, I noted how neatly he always did so, and I was constantly drawn to the precise movements of his hands and tried to ignore the thoughts of said hands touching my skin with the same careful reverence that he gave those old books.

As he left, I felt I had achieved something momentous with him being able to jest with me, as if I were waging some little war for his affection - despite how foolhardy the battle was. I tried to tell myself he merely tolerated me because of my marriage but I couldn’t help but think he did like me, in a way. He could have sat anywhere else in the library or avoided me completely - I knew there was ample space in the Tower of the Hand and he had no need to be here.

I smiled to myself at this small victory and happily returned to my book as the footsteps of the Hand faded into the distance.

A/N: I wrote a lot of this with COVID brain fog so I apologise if anything makes no sense.

Title is from Sonnet 116 by Shakespeare

[malanasims]

Taylor Swift Eras themed Legacy Challenge

i wanted to put together two of my favorite things: the sims and Taylor Swift. so i came up with this 10 generation legacy challenge in which each generation is inspired by a different album. I created this challenge for the sims 2 ultimate collection since that is the game i normally play, but i am sure it can be adapted for sims 3 or sims 4. i also implemented the traits project for ts2 but you can easily do the challenge without it using different personality points. i set up this challenge so that each generation alternates genders but you can switch that up. i also chose first names for each generation based on references of the album. also some of the writing is very cheesy and has a lot of references because why not go crazy. this is my first legacy challenge so if you have any critiques let me know. the rules are not strict and cheats can be used as its a story-based challenge.

Debut- Gen 1: Mary

“Take me home where we met so many years before. 

We'll rock our babies on that very front porch: After all this time, you and I”

You grew up in a small town where everyone knew each other. Your parents never had the greatest relationship and your mom was always with her best friend. Since birth you and her kid have been inseparable. Will you fall into the same patterns as your parents…or will you find a place in this world?

family/romance 

LTW: reach golden anniversary

nurturing, jealous, loves the outdoors, great kisser, family oriented

marry your first love

have 2 children (at least one son)

formal wear is a little black dress

Fearless- Gen 2: Stephen 

“You played in bars, you play guitar

I'm invisible and everyone knows who you are”

Your parents raised you well but something about the fact that they only ever knew each other scares you. You want to get out there and make a name for yourself. You know no ones coming for you on their white horse. You’ll have to be fearless to become a superstar: but for now all you have is your mothers eyes and her old guitar.

fortune/pleasure

virtuoso, charismatic, irresistible, ambitious, non-committal

LTW: become rock god

go on at least 5 first dates

have at least one daughter

date a fan

Speak now- Gen 3: Emma

“When Emma falls apart, it's when she's alone

She takes on the pain and bears it on her own”

You often felt overlooked by your rockstar father. He was always busy and you spent most of your time with your mother until her mysterious disappearance. You feel like you grew up too fast, and now you love to travel back to your youth and fantasize about castles and dragons. So you become an actress; a character. Will you break out of your fathers famously destructive patterns, or will you regain your balance on the tightrope and break out before fire can catch you?

popularity/romance

LTW: Become Icon

natural born performer, childish, bookworm, shy, hopeless romantic

your first love doesn't work out/ you break their heart

have at least one son

have a strained relationship with your father but a good relationship with your mother

meet your true love at a party and then never see eachother again

Red- Gen 4: Bobby

“How you took the money and your dignity, and got the hell out

They say you bought a bunch of land somewhere

Chose the rose garden over Madison Square”

You grew up in the starlight of your mothers fame. You two were always close but after suffering from the tabloids and the camera flashes you decide this life is not for you. You move out of the Angel City and start anew. Your mother has given you some funds and you build up a family home. You tell everyone you left because the city wasn’t right for you… but maybe it was partly to run from your playboy/girl ex who you know was trouble. Now you spend your life painting and searching for your muse. Will you stay paralyzed by time or finally begin again?

Knowledge/family

LTW: become visionary

artistic, eco friendly, night owl, loves the cold, loner

Have an on and off toxic relationship

Move out of your parents house

Settle down with someone nice

Have 3 children (at least one girl)

1989- Gen 5: Love

“You searched the world for somethin' else

To make you feel like what we had

And in the end, in Wonderland, we both went mad”

You grew up secluded from the world, surrounded by your mothers paintings. Your mom loved the environment but you couldn’t wait to get out of the woods and explore new places. Somewhere along the road, you fell into a rabbit hole of insanity: mascara running in the bathroom and rose gardens filled with thorns. You blow money and string lovers along. You have fantastic delusions until your wildest dreams turn into nightmares. Will you accept the help from your family and abandon your affinity for screaming, crying and perfect storms? Or will every day continue to be a battle?

knowledge/pleasure

LTW: Become space pirate

Insane, unstable, diva, adventurous, jealous

Join the adventurer career

Have 3 loves at once

Have children with multiple people (one must be boy/girl twins)

Lose money in poker

Reputation- Gen 6: Burton (the name is so bad help)

“I don't like your kingdom keys

They once belonged to me

You asked me for a place to sleep

Locked me out and threw a feast”

Yeah, your mother may have done a number on you, but who's counting? Maybe your twin sister… Everything you did, she just had to do better. In the wake of your mother’s madness, you turned to dancing. You found peace in swaying as the room burnt down. Your twin sister on the other hand hated how you were lit up every room you walked into, but you couldn’t help it. There's nothing she hates more than what she can't have… so she turned to sabotage. Just when you think that your life is perfect- you're at the top of your career and you finally found love- your sister starts a rumor that you cheated on your love. Your reputation as a famous dancer goes down in seconds. But to your surprise, your lover isn't reading what they call you lately and your relationship is stronger than ever. Will you get revenge on your sister and become exactly what you despise, or sit back and let karma take over?

Popularity/romance

LTW: Become world class ballerina

Party animal, irresistible, social butterfly, hot headed, unlucky

Be enemies with your twin sister

Never be unfaithful

Have a bad reputation

Have at least one daughter

Lover- Gen 7: Cornelia

“I’d be a fearless leader, I'd be an alpha type

When everyone believes ya, what's that like?”

You've always known you wanted to change the world. Who cares if you were overlooked and discouraged. Snakes and stones won’t break your bones. You never had a big family as your father walked away from his. Sometimes it gets lonely trusting the wicked, and your loyalty was often a fault. You turn to politics to combat your feelings of helplessness, but no one takes you seriously and you feel lost in the light. You have to start from the ground up with the help of your best friend. You start to build your picture-perfect life: the kids, the lyrical smiles and the power. Will you drive away your lover by searching for their dark side, or will you put aside your ways and find the daylight?

Popularity/family

LTW: Become mayor

Good, easily impressed, brave, unlucky, perfectionist

Fall in love with your best friend

Have 10 best friends

Have children (at least one son)

Folklore- Gen 8: James

“I had the shiniest wheels, now they're rusting

I didn't know if you'd care if I came back

I have a lot of regrets about that”

You grew up trying to meet the expectations of your politician mother. Everything had to be picture perfect, even your private life. So she set you up with the daughter of one of the most powerful families in town, Betty. At first you are skeptical, but over time you fall for her integrity and affinity for old cardigans. Along the way you begin to feel stuck, tired of the sensual politics and your mother’s watchful eye. That's when you meet August -the polar opposite of Betty- and some part of you has to know what she is like. You meet in parking lots and dive bars, but after Betty finds out, you realize that summer is dwindling. In wake of losing two girls, you turn to writing: poetry and sad prose. You get lost in your stories, but once you start to gain traction, you can’t help but wonder how different your life could have been. Will you rekindle your wild flame with August or go back to the peace you felt with Betty?

knowledge/ romance

LTW: Publish 5,000$ best seller*

Great kisser, coward, bookworm, brooding, commitment issues

Fall in love with Betty

Fall in love with August

Confess to cheating on Betty

Write novels

Move into a cottage by a lake

Finally choose the one girl

Have at least one daughter with her

Evermore- Gen 9: Ivy

“And the skeletons in both our closets

Plotted hard to fuck this up

And the old men that I’ve swindled

Really did believe I was the one”

You always resented your father because he abandoned the good life for a cottage in the woods and his stories. You don’t want that; you want power and wealth. You don't need love, just a fancy car. So you turn to crime, because it’s easy for you; you love the gold rush. You con men and no one will ever prove it. You marry rich men and inherit their money when their time runs out. But then one day you meet your match, a fellow criminal, and wonder if this life will really bring you happiness. But you realized this a little too late, and now you're forced to drink your husband's wine… but he was the wrong guy. Will you leave the life of crime behind or will you stay frozen in time?

Fortune/pleasure

LTW: Gold digger

Kleptomaniac, genius, charismatic, mean-spirited, rebellious

Go into the criminal career

Marry a rich sim

Fall in love with a criminal and have an affair

Have a son

Midnights- Gen 10: Snow

“And I don't dress for villains

Or for innocents

I'm on my vigilante shit again”

You knew your mom wasn’t the most ethically-correct person. You like to think you inherited her better half; but that isn’t entirely true. You are determined to be different, so you become a spy; you get the satisfaction of working for the good guys and the pleasure that comes with great wars. Being a spy is difficult though, and you never know when things could go wrong. You are constantly burning files and deserting old lives. But you’re a mastermind, nobody can deny that. You finally meet your perfect person, but it's hard concealing your true occupation from them. You have money and respect… But can all of that pay for someone to just know you?

Fortune/knowledge

LTW: Become head of the SCIA

Perceptive, disciplined, loner, proper, daredevil

Join the intelligence career

Move homes at least twice

The rest is up to you since it is the last generation 

*50 new LTW mod can be found here

if anyone decides to do this challenge tag me! i'd love to see it

[sleeper-kerennnnnnx]

MASHLE ：author's Q&A from fan book translation

Please point out any mistakes or errors! I will correct them ASAP, thanks so much!

I will translate this in four parts as there‘s 131 questions in total！

Here are the Q1-Q33 parts!

To the animation fans: There are slight references to the subsequent plot of the comics‼ ️ (Q11 and Q17) Those who are not interested in spoilers can avoid it

Q1. I want to know the name of the pastry shop that Mash will open in the future!

In addition, can rough dough fans and wet dough fans tolerate each other?

A1: The name of the shop is Beard Maggio. Unfortunately, the two cannot be compared, and such struggles of human beings like us have never stopped.

Q2: Will Mash marry Lemon?

A2: It's up to you to imagine.

Q3: What would it feel like if Mash had a different hairstyle?

A3: No one would recognize Mash. Because my character portrait is in the style of Miss Sazae (a comic).

Q4: How strong is Mash‘s grip?

A4: 600 kilograms. Like a gorilla.

Q5: How heavy is Mash's wristband?

A5: One ton, about as heavy as a black rhino.

Q6: Why do owls hate Mash so much?

A6: I don't know why. I'm often barked at by dogs, so it's probably the same feeling.

Q7: How did Mash escape from the castle and be picked up and adopted by Grandpa Regulo?

A7: Of course by the effort!

Q8: Regulo always calls Mash "son", but why does Mash call Mr. Regulo "grandpa"?

A8: Because Regulo looks more like grandpa, similar to a nickname.

Q9: I heard that Mash wants to be a pastry chef, so will he make other desserts besides puffs? In addition, what professions will Finn, Lance, Dot, and Lemon do in the future?

A9: He should start learning other desserts in the future. Finn may be a civil servant...? Lance will be an incredible person, Dot will be a registered tax agent or accountant, and Lemon may be an idol!

Q10: What is the badge on the chest of Mash's black tights?

A10: It's an owl! (Annotate：The badge can be found in the comics but not in the animation)

Q11: Why was Mash's hair slicked back when he awakened? Why did his skin turn black?

A11: Because the blood circulation became faster, the skin turned black and red! The hair also turned upside down because of the blood circulation!

Q12: Is it just a coincidence that Matthew can't do magic? Or did the Pure Root do something before he was born?

A12: It's just a coincidence! That's how genes work!

Q13: Cell War and Mash have similar hairstyles and magic lines. When they get close, they will resonate and cause headaches. Could it be that the Innocent Zero deliberately created such a replica?

A13: That's right! Cell War is a replica!

Q14: Has Mash's iron wand been used by other wizards before? Or has the iron wand been on the ground since it was made and no one has used it?

A14: No one has ever used that wand, it's always stuck on the floor! We don't know who it was made for (crying).

Q15: Finn later became a one liner, so did his second line disappear and become ineffective (crying)

A15: He's still growing up, not yet a complete double liner, so the second line will only appear when he's desperate!

Q16: Which of the parents of the Ames brothers (Finn and Rayne) has black hair and which has blond hair? Or do both parents have two-color hair?

A16: Both parents have two-color hair!

Q17: Did the relationship between the Ames brothers improve when they got together in the last chapter of the comic?

A17: The older brother is a tsundere, but it seems that the relationship has improved!

Q18: Why did Finn call Ryane "Onii-sama"  instead of "brother"?

A18: It's because the two keep their distance, there's a gap...

Q19: Ryane and Finn have always kept their distance. After Ryane became a divine awakener, did Ryane pay for Finn's living expenses?

A19: Ryane is quietly taking a long detour to help his brother bear the responsibility! (Translator comment: So cute hahahahaha)

Q20: Lemon said that the family conditions are not good. How bad are they? Can you tell me her story?

A20: The stew at home has no seasoning and tastes very bland (crying).

Q21: If Lemon's secondth and third-level magic awakens, will torture instruments and appear?

A21: Torture instruments should appear... (crying). So scary（crying).

Q22: What is Lemon's best dish?

A22: Egg rice bowl! This is not easy to make...

Q23: Which do you think is cuter, Lemon or love cute?

A23: Lemon! I like short hair!

Q24: Are the planet earrings that Lance often wears a gift from his parents? Or did he buy them himself?

A24: He bought them himself. (Translator comment: you are so trendy Lance...)

Q25: How is Lance's relationship with his parents?

A25: It's always bad... (crying)

Q26: If Anna has a boyfriend, how will Lance react?

A26: He will die!

Q27: Does Anna know that Lance is a sister-con and has a lot of her peripherals? If she knows, what does she think?

A27: It's okay! That's it!

Q28: Will Anna come to Easton to study?

A28: Yes! (Yeah!)

Q29: I want to know the name of Dort's third-level magic

A29: Because the personal magic is explosion magic, it is to summon "God of Explosion-Vulcanus"!

Q30: What is Dort's sister doing now? In addition, is she covering her eyes because of fashion or for some reason? I want to know if she has other secrets.

A30: She‘s now working outside! Good women are mysterious! So the reason is a secret!

Q31: I want to know what snacks that eat with tea Dot recommends!

A31: Madeleine cake! (Translator's note: small shell-shaped cake)

Q32: Does Dot know that he has Ira Kreuz? In addition, are his family members also people with Ira Kreuz?

A32: He knows that he is. His family all have Ira Kreuz. I don't really know what it means to be a person with Ira Kreuz!

Q33: Is the Barrett family the only one with Ira Kreuz?

A33: In addition to the Barrett family, there should be others!

Please click likes and subscribe if you enjoy it！Thanks for reading！hope you would like it and I‘ll update it ASAP

Chinese version is updated in：longyou1225.lofter.com

[natewriteslol]

Remembering History

Summary: When Leona finds Cheka crying his reminded of his own childhood struggle. What will he do to comfort someone so unlike himself?

Characters: Leona Kingscholar, Cheka

Warnings: nothing really just a little sad :O

This should have been what he wanted, to see the young brat who snubbed him of the chance of being king. Leona was third to the crown, a child would have the opportunity to rule before him.

So why did he feel sadness?

The Amber eyes that typically could be found gleaming were prickling with tears and his mouth was pried open as he choked on his sobs. This wasn’t a regular temper tantrum, this was true hurt Cheka was experiencing.

He was most definitely caught off guard, Leona had never really comforted anyone let alone a child, “Why are you crying?” But this question seemed to further put salt in the wound of the young beastman.

So, Leona decided to soften his approach, only to stop this crying of course, delicately placing a hand upon the back of the child as he bawled in his corner of beanbags and plush toys. Allow him to cry, and maybe then he would be able to find the root of the problem.

Eventually Cheka had slightly calmed down and decided to look up at his uncle, his eyes stinging and swelled from the crying, “I-I was practicing with my tutor a-and I messed up on the problem and Mrs. A g-got super mad and said I was h-hopeless.” The five year olds hands retreated to his eyes, covering them in shame.

“A-and I know you think I’m a screw up too, Uncle.”

“I can’t do anything right.”

“The younger son is quite a handful isn’t he? But you can’t help but feel pity for him, he didn’t even inherit his father’s features” the servant gossiped to another, yet none of them knew that Leona was in a corner, playing a game of hide n seek.

“I mean it must feel horrible knowing the real truth at such a young age, though I feel like he’s in denial. But everyone knows no matter what, nothing will grant him the position of king…

“He can’t do anything right, not even be born at the correct time” the other servant giggled whilst folding the towels.

As Leona watched the display before him from behind a houseplant, yet despite hiding he couldn’t escape their scornful words. His heart began aching as he felt the same pressure on his chest as the day he watched Farena and his father secretly discuss his plans for the eldest son’s future. He could barely breathe, as his saliva soured in his mouth and the castle had never felt colder.

Farena tapped him, loudly giggling and shouting “Found you!”. Yet his brother was unphased by the touch instead looking at the servants with an hardened expression as they gazed in horror.

As Cheka cried, Leona began to see himself in the child, he thought his nephew would be unaware of pressure or immune to sadness due to the loving family he possessed, or the fact that he shall be king.

While he knew it was factual that he couldn’t be the king, causing a battle inside of him. However, Leona never thought that it would be obvious to others.

In every fairy tale one opens, the prince goes on to become to be king, so is he truly worth anything if he wasn’t king?

As the child’s tears seeped, creating a puddle in his shirt he realized how naive of him it was to think that. But instead being shrouded of regret and self pity Leona realized he needed to be with him now.

“That woman will no longer be teaching you, I will be sure of that,” Leona said, and for the first time he caressed the child’s soft red locks.

“I don’t wanna disappoint you,” the young boy murmured into his shirt, but the grown beast men’s ears picked up on it of course. But he was speechless, Leona had no issue being rude to his father or others.

He thought that he would have no problem with doing the same with Cheka, yet he found his stomach sinking, remembering that the young boy had been aware of the distaste he had for him all this time?

“You’re…you’re not a screw up, you have potential and…you’re a good kid,” Leona said, finally breaking the silence, it was tough to say but for once when no one was around, had to shoo away his built up ego for him.

“And…I do love you, you’re my only nephew.”

“Really?” The young boy replied, his eyes red but they had a gleam of happiness to them which made Leona smile.

Not wanting to be vulnerable with the adorable saucers of Cheka on him making him let out a tsk, he sighed “Yes, of course don’t press me for an answer too much.” Yet he couldn’t muster up more sass due to the soft arms wrapping around his shoulders, enveloping him into a hug.

As his green irises fell on the child clinging onto him, Leona wiped away a tear that had cascaded down his cheeks, not wanting to leave this evidence of emotion on him.

Yet, this happening had caused him to rethink.

Perhaps the whole point isn’t being prince, but to be a leader to those who need it, who need you the most.

[dr-spencer-reids-queen]

Retaliation: Part One

Pairing: Spencer Reid x Female!Reader

Word Count: ~2.2k

Summary: Everyone can see just how much you're suffering, Spencer more than most. When he confesses to the team about your nightmares, Derek takes matters into his own hands.

Season Five Masterlist

Warnings: canon violence, canon language, canon talk of death, methods of kill

Author’s Note: I do not own anything from Criminal Minds. All credit goes to their respective owners. If there are any warnings that exceed the normal death/kills from the show, I will list them.

x

"Men are more ready to repay an injury than a benefit because gratitude is a burden and revenge a pleasure." - Tacitus

Dale Schrader was born on February 6, 1967. A lifelong criminal, he began a series of armed bank robberies throughout New York in 1994. He married a woman named Connie on August 17, 1995. On June 16, 1996, the two had a daughter whom they named Jenny, less than a year after the wedding. On May 5, 2001, Dale was sold out by Dan Otey, a fellow bank robber, and was arrested. 

Evidence of his involvement in the other robberies provided by Officer Joe Muller proved damning, and Dale was sentenced to fifteen years in a Lockport prison. While incarcerated, Dale proved to be a model prisoner, and due to good behavior, was released in only eleven years. 

While serving his sentence, Dale plotted an elaborate revenge scheme which he set into action two days after his release. He tracked down the home of Joe, having discerned that he and Otey were the ones who were responsible for his arrest.

At Joe's house, he abducted his wife and two sons at knifepoint, subsequently placing them in a crack house frequented by Stacy Ryan, the sister of a deceased former cellmate, and a group of fellow addicts whom he paid to keep an eye on the hostages. 

With Joe's family taken care of, Dale approached Joe outside a hardware store, showed him a picture and phone recording of his captive family, and blackmailed him into helping him acquire a key in police storage. What the key goes to, you have no clue.

Before getting the key, Dale decided to abduct his daughter to spite his now ex-wife, stabbing Ryan to death en route and dumping her body on the side of a road. Dale abducted Jenny while Connie was away from home and placed her in a cabin near the Canadian border. Jenny's abduction was what called in the BAU, who created a profile for him. 

That's why Derek is chasing Dale close to the middle of the night in the middle of the woods. Jenny wasn't hard to track down which caught Dale red-handed, and Derek wasn't going to let him get away.

"Don't move, Schrader!" Derek yells.

"Dale Schrader, you're under arrest for the murder of Stacy Ryan and the kidnapping of your daughter, Jenny."

Derek pulls him up by his cuffed hands and brings him to the police car that is by the cabin where Jenny is being held.

"Let me say goodbye to her," Dale pleads.

"You lost that right the minute you took her," Emily glares.

"She's my daughter! Jenny!"

Jenny looks frightened by him and coils into the police officer assigned to watch her.

"No, it's okay. He can't hurt you."

"Jenny, I'm sorry."

"Are you going to ride with her?" the officer asks Derek.

"Yeah, I got it. Jenny, listen to me. I promise you he's gonna go away for a long time. It's going to be alright."

Email shoves Dale into the back of the police car and approaches Derek who is talking to Jenny. She takes out her phone and calls Hotch to give him an update, Derek lets Jenny talk to her mom on the phone, and the police officer going to ride with Dale and Emily is canceling the Amber Alert put on Jenny.

Soon after, everyone leaves the cabin in their respective vehicles and heads down the mountain to get on the main highway. Emily is the first car in the group followed by the ambulance followed by the other police cars. Derek relaxes in his seat for the long ride ahead of them when he comes across a sight he never wants to see.

The car that held Emily, Bunting, and Dale crashed into the ditch on the side of the road. Emily is on the side of the road with cuts on her head but it doesn't look like Dale is anywhere near the scene.

"Pull over. That's one of us!" The ambulance pulls over and Derek jumps out before the car has a chance to stop completely. "Prentiss!!"

"What the hell happened?" she groans painfully.

"Are you okay?"

"I think. Bunting's down there. He's dead. Schrader's gone. It was a big truck. New York tags, Victor Alpha 737. They went northbound about ten minutes ago."

"That son of a bitch got away," Derek curses.

"He's got a partner," Emily winces.

You're stuck at the station with Rossie, Spencer, JJ, and Hotch. He took the time he needed off before returning to work. This will be his first case back since the funeral so you're not sure how this is going to go for him. Spencer looks at you and notices how distant you look. He hasn't had time to tell the team how you've been feeling since you got out of prison, and he needs to tell them soon, or else you're going to crash.

You haven't been sleeping well because every time you close your eyes, the nightmares come. They're not even about prison. The energy stuck to you makes you see all sorts of shit at night that you'd rather forget. Spencer looks at his hands and flexes them because he's gonna do something he hates doing. He reaches over to you and grabs your hand as a way to show you that you have his support.

You do something that tells him you're dying inside and need help.

You squeeze his hand without looking at him.

"The first case back, we won, and you'll be home for breakfast," Rossi smiles at Hotch.

"We never figured out why Schrader killed Stacy Ryan. She had no connection to his daughter or his ex-wife."

JJ walks into the office with the phone in her hand.

"There's been an accident. Emily's in the hospital and Bunting's dead."

"Is she alright?"

"She has a concussion. Morgan's with her right now going to the hospital. Schrader escaped the scene northbound in a truck with a partner."

"We need roadblocks now. Do we have a license plate number?"

"Emily remembered a partial."

"It's better than nothing," Rossi comments. "He could be headed to Canada. We need somebody who knows the area."

"I'll get an officer. I'll make sure Schrader's face is everywhere," she says and leaves.

"Schrader was a bank robber. Now he's murdered a woman, kidnapped his daughter, and killed a cop. He's obviously more sophisticated than we originally thought."

"He's got a bigger plan. It's not just about getting his daughter and fleeing the country. We never profiled that he'd have a partner. We don't know this guy at all."

With two agents down, the rest have to reinvent the profile since you never anticipated Schrader to have a partner in all of this. Why did he escalate from robbery to murder and kidnapping? What's his endgame?

"Alright, so Schrader pulled a series of bank heists in the 1990s. He was the only one to ever go away for the crimes. He was a model prisoner, only served eleven of his fifteen years. He was released early on good behavior, and any friends he had are either dead or still in prison," Spencer recaps.

"A three-ton truck was found north of the accident, not too far from Canada. We have the heaviest presence at border crossings. He probably knows that, but I don't think he's gonna sit still for long."

"He might have to depending on how injured he is," Spencer says.

"What do we know?"

"Dale Schrader went to prison for robbery. He was hands-off. All of his crimes were impersonal. Two days after he's released, he kills Stacy and kidnaps his daughter. It's both personal and emotional. It doesn't make any sense.

"When he's not attached to the crime, he pulls it off, but the minute he's invested, he lets his guard down and gets caught. It makes sense. He's not the hard-ass we thought he was."

"If Jenny was what he wanted, he had her. He could have left. He could have taken her to Canada. Why didn't he?

JJ comes back in with pictures in hand.

"Here are pictures from the accident."

It's not as bad as it could have been but you're still worried about Emily.

"Any word on Emily?" you ask.

"Apparently, she's arguing with the doctors," JJ chuckles.

"This took a lot to pull off. What if he's got a group of guys to call on? All those bank jobs were solo but this is a lot for one man to orchestrate."

"Have you figured out why he killed Stacy?" JJ asks.

"We haven't found any connection to Schrader, but she may be connected to the partner. Killing her might have been advance payment for breaking him out of custody."

Hotch calls Pen over video chat so everyone can hear what she has to say.

"Garcia, I need everything you've got on Stacy Ryan."

"She was a junkie. If she wasn't high, she was waiting to get high. The only thread I have between her and Schrader is that Stacy's brother spent time with Schrader upstate five years ago."

"Why would Schrader kill a junkie? It doesn't make sense. Where's the brother now?"

"Dead."

"It doesn't feel like Schrader does anything randomly. Stacy must have meant something to him."

"Yeah, but what?"

"Can you figure it out?"

"I'm on it," Penelope says and hangs up.

You're not completely here but you try your best to think about the current case. Schrader's partner saw everything that happened in the woods but he ran away and stole a truck. He knew Emily and Derek were taking that road back to the station which is why he waited for them and crashed into Emily when the moment was right.

This whole thing feels meticulous. If Schrader didn't need his partner for Jenny, then he must need him for something else. For what, you're not sure of. It doesn't make sense because Schrader had five years to plan all of this in prison. He should have had backup plans for his backup plans. He had more than enough time to escape over the border with Jenny before his ex-wife got home and realized she was missing.

Instead, he stayed local in that cabin. He had what he wanted. He could have run. Logically, there must be something else keeping him in Lockport.

One AM rolls around quicker than you'd hoped, and you yawn from how tired you've been. Not only do you need sleep but you're running only on caffeine and energy drinks. It's not healthy for you but you don't know what else to do.

"Schrader's face is all over the news," JJ says. "He's been on the run for almost two hours and we're no closer to catching him."

"We need to find the partner."

"Hey," Spencer says and everyone looks behind him to see Emily and Derek walking into the police station. "How are you feeling?"

"I feel like I got hit by a truck."

"Here, sit," JJ says and pulls out a chair for her.

"Thanks." Emily has Penelope on the phone and places her on speakerphone so everyone can hear her. "Garcia, tell everyone what you just told me."

"I have unearthed more of Schrader's past. What we do know is that he robbed fifteen banks in the state of New York in the nineties. However, what your resident glamour-puss smarty-pants just found out was that most of that money was never recovered."

"Where is it?" Spencer asks.

"My guess is that only he knows."

"That might be a good reason to stick around Lockport. The robbery that put him away should have been routine, right? What happened?"

"Maybe someone turned him in."

"I don't know. He kept to himself and always worked alone. Who'd turn him in? We're missing somebody. Garcia?"

"Yes, checking, sir. Records leading up to Schrader's arrest show this other bank robber named Dan Otey. He was looking at copious amounts of time, then he strikes a deal, and all of a sudden Schrader is arrested."

"It can't be a coincidence. You know, it's not uncommon for criminals to buy jobs off one another. Maybe that's what Schrader did but Dan Otey sold him out for a lesser sentence."

"It doesn't make sense. Otey was a rat and now he's the partner?" JJ shakes her head.

"You're right, Schrader wouldn't trust him. If anything, he'd want him dead."

"He'd probably use him first. He'd tell Otey that he owes him one and that he might save his life if he helps him get out of this jam."

"Where is he now, Garcia?" Hotch asks.

"Otey is a local. He lives off Route 7."

You get up from the table and head over to the coffee machines to pour yourself an extra strong cup. Spencer waits until you're in the other room before speaking up. This is his chance to tell everyone what's been going on with you.

"Okay, let's take a pause for a second. There's something going on with Y/N. Prison did something to her but she's pretending like everything is fine when I know it's not. I don't think she's been ready to come back. She's scared to go to sleep, she's crying all the time, and she is terrified. She keeps telling herself that she is fine but I know she'll crash sooner or later. It's not going to be pretty when it does."

"I noticed something was wrong on the last case we were on," Emily says. "She left one of the crime scenes and I found her outside begging for someone to help. It looked like she was locked in her own mind. I didn't want to say anything since it's none of my business but now that you put it out there, I had to say something."

"Let me handle her," Derek says. "Thanks for letting me know."

You come back with your coffee but don't notice how everyone is staring at you.

x

Follow my library blog @aqueenslibrary​​​​​​ where I reblog all my stories, so you can put notifications on there without the extra stuff :)

[fandombead]

The Dancer

Hello!! This is my submission for Prinxiety Shipweek's prompt: Music.

Summary: Virgil is the small (like– 5'' tall) 16-year-old son of a woodcarver who crafts him a little dancer friend out of special wood he got from one of their regular clients. Imagine Virgil’s shock when the figure, his size, comes to life in the nighttime. (note: Fairy Tale-ish AU!)

WC: ~4.8k || It's on AO3!

@prinxietyweek !

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

Music

Virgil stepped down and wandered out of his space in the walls onto his dad’s desk, trying to get a peek at the man’s latest project. 

Patton was extremely skilled at his craft, to the point he was renowned in all the land for his detailed, “impossible” works. He had learned from a great teacher and put in the work to always remember the lessons. It wasn't a miraculous talent he was born with, but a skill he cultivated. He liked to say he gave a piece of something he loved to all his precious creations. 

Virgil didn’t think much of it, but he was lucky. His dad often made everything he needed from scratch or tinkered out of something he thought would be useful, and it always surprised him how crafty and resourceful his dad was even when he wasn’t carving oak and cedar. 

Right now, Patton was bent in a way that surely would hurt when he finally got up, intently focused on his latest secret project that had captured Virgil’s nosey attentions entirely. It wasn’t near his birthday; that had passed a few months ago and he had gotten a new Violin (and it was incredible how good it managed to sound. Even better than the first model Virgil had learned to play with).

But Patton had been hiding this from him for weeks, and it was driving Virgil crazy. As it was, Patton knew where all his perches for looking out at the shop and people watching were, and had been very good at keeping the new…whatever it was out of sight.

Virgil had caught glimpses: Patton had chosen a rather expensive-looking hardwood that Virgil didn’t even recognize as any used before, which meant it either was for a top-paying commissioner or one of Patton’s major passion projects that would require a lot of detailing. He’d also ordered an odd mechanical base from Logan: the clockmaker several shops over who he often collaborated with. Having a custom part or apparatus from him wasn’t unusual, but the secrecy had Virgil more invested than he’d otherwise be. 

He tried to interrogate Logan from the counter when he’d dropped the boxed mystery device off a few days ago, but the man had simply smiled and told him to be patient and he’d surely get to see it soon. Virgil did not like that answer. It only kept him awake at night and more curious.

Virgil peeked out from Patton’s old design books on the desk, trying to see what his dad’s arm was blocking. There were interesting scraps of sparkly and sheer fabric littering the table and he could at least see that Patton was holding a paintbrush in his left hand, tongue out in concentration.

As Virgil tried to see, however, Patton cracked a knowing smile. “Heya, kiddo. Can’t help but want to peek, hmm?” Virgil ducked back behind the books guiltily before shuffling out at being caught. Patton set the brush down. “Well, it’s alright. I was actually just finishing the detail on this, he’s nearly done. I was going to introduce you at breakfast, but I think now is much more interesting.”

Virgil gave his dad a confused look. “‘He’?” 

Patton just grinned and told him to turn around for a moment which Virgil complied and did. Whatever just to get to finally see this…whatever it was Patton had created.

Virgil heard Patton shuffling and setting things down, then the light tap tap tap of his small mallet.

Something was set down again, closer behind Virgil and Patton finally let him turn to see.

Patton held an ornate little red box in the moonlight coming in from the window behind them. On top, poised gracefully on one pointed foot  was a figure of a beautiful dancer, with chestnut brown hair in waves that looked more soft than carved and a just as soft smile on a kind face. He looked similar to the dancer in the ballet Patton had taken him to last winter, in a shimmering long-sleeved shirt and embroidered gold vest. 

The figure in his hand was posed in a dance, as if captured right as he reached out his hand to a partner, waiting. His other leg was carefully positioned behind him, pointed rigidly. If not for his base, he’d probably be close to Virgil’s height. Virgil looked at the creation as he circled it in awe. Patton sat back and wiped the polish and paint from his hands, chuckling proudly. “So, whatcha think, Virgie? He’s pretty nice, yeah?” Virgil’s eyes were wide as he looked back at Patton, near sparkling. “How did you even make this?? It’s so– I’ve never seen you make anything this elaborate before.”

“Well, I was gifted a very rare and simply elegant block of wood from one of our regular clients, Sir Fraus. He says he got it during his travels but didn’t say what kind it was. Only that it was in thanks and that he thought I’d know what to make with something this rare. So, I figured that I should make something just as special. I'm excited to show him the next time he stops by. He’s got joints to be posable and everything– and just wait until you see this.” Patton reached into his apron pocket and pulled out a small gold key. Virgil watched, walking around to see as Patton stuck the small key into the back of the box and it clicked in. He turned it a few times, winding it up and then let go. The dancer began to slowly spin on his toe, the metal base he was attached to rotating.  

Virgil watched as the shimmery sleeves of his outfit caught the moonlight, unable to look away. Patton smiled, also admiring the dancer spun, dancing to an unheard tune as his arm that wasn’t poised moved up and down as he spun. 

“I’m only a bit disappointed I couldn’t add music to the box, but Logan didn’t have a comb the right size or the cylinder for the song I was hoping for anyway. Perhaps one day I can get one custom-made.” Virgil tilted his head as he watched, sitting next to Patton to watch as the figure slowed to a stop, arm down in rest again. 

“Did you…name him?” Virgil asked as Patton reached around his son to wind it up again.

“You know, it’s funny you mention that. I went to the nice woman who sells fabrics from her home in The Den– you know, that little shop district across town? She made the costumes for the play we saw. Anyway, I was explaining to her what I needed and asked for any outfit suggestions and somehow we got onto the topic of names being important for creations like this. She gave me a few, but I ended up liking one the most: ‘Roman’. What do you think?”

Virgil had to admit that was very fitting for the regal dancer. He liked it. “Roman,” he repeated, nodding in approval with a tiny smile he hid in his arm as they watched him spin again. “Suits him.” “I’d say his clothing suits him too.” Patton grinned and Virgil groaned, laying his head in his arms. “Baaad, that one was awful.”

Patton laughed, ruffling Virgil’s hair with a fingertip and a wide smile. 

“Hahaha, I bet Roman likes my puns!”

Virgil made a noise of doubt as Patton turned and looked at his colorful clock on the wall. “Ah, I stayed up far later than I meant to. You’re welcome to stay out here if you want, but I gotta get to bed. Early day tomorrow, as usual.” he hummed, standing. Virgil watched him and gave Patton’s hand a brief hug when it swept up to ‘hug’ him goodnight. “Don’t stay up too late, Virge.”

Virgil gave Patton a vague wave of his hand in acknowledgment, not taking his eyes off the dancer.

Patton made sure the shop was locked up and then left to his room in their home above the shop.

Virgil sat alone, going back to wind the box when it stopped. He really did think it’d be nice to see Roman dance to music. And then he realized that it was something he could provide.

Virgil got up and ran off to his room in the walls. There was his little workshop space Patton had carved out and covered for his privacy, with a little balcony, but he ended up having to go all the way back up to his bedroom adjacent to Patton’s. He could see Patton brushing his teeth out of his balcony but didn’t stop to chat as he grabbed his black violin case from the corner by his shelf bed. Then he was immediately headed back down. He jogged out onto the worktable again, his instrument case already open as he set it down.

Virgil spun the key as far as he could, which was admittedly difficult after 5 turns, but he used all his strength to get the coil as tight as he could. Then he picked up the violet violin and started to play the first song that his hands picked: one that he’d learned by ear from the record Patton liked to play in the shop the most. 

They’d heard this one at the ballet and it felt fitting for the dancer still diligently posed on one foot. 

The pretty tune filled the air around him and Virgil smiled as it looked like the dancer was moving to it with the one arm that shifted as he spun. He could almost imagine he really was playing musician for this dancer, Roman. His vest twinkled in the gentle moonlight, and it was mesmerizing as it created a shimmer around him. Virgil was so lost in the music and gazing at the stunning figure that he did not notice the soft click of the key stopping.

He finished the song out, the lilting drawn-out end fading gradually, and the dancer stopped turning with his arm down in rest. Virgil was smiling, proud, and a bit sheepish that he’d even done it. But it was nice.

And then the carve dancer blinked, and Virgil gasped, nearly dropping his violin. He froze, staring as the dancer’s pretty dark eyes seemed to focus on him. Then it moved again, head tilted curiously. Virgil dove behind the toolkit holding Patton’s chisels, the nearest thing. 

Virgil stared in awe as the figure twisted around curiously, gazing around the shop and tentatively looking over to where Virgil hid. He tried to get down, stumbling as he pulled his foot free and nearly fell off the box entirely, much to Virgil’s anxiety spike as he gasped. Thankfully he caught himself on the edge with his hands and was able to carefully sit and hop down.

The figure was alive…alive?! Enchanted?? He didn’t think Patton knew that, surely! He would have shown him– or at least mentioned it so that his anxious son wouldn’t freak out. Was he even awake right now? The wooden man danced a little about the table, wobbly for a few steps before getting used to moving rather quickly and happy about it. 

That was a wooden person smiling over at him. Virgil scrambled back, startled. “How—how are you moving right now?! My dad carved you out of a hunk of wood!!”

The possibly possessed wooden figure blinked at him— despite Patton having never created eyelids with which to do so— hands clasping in front of himself as he stood and appeared to be listening, and even just standing there he looked like he was posed perfectly to begin dancing.

Virgil was a little unnerved that he just kept staring but his eyes were curious rather than judging or belittling like a lot of people’s tended to be when meeting him. Though their being nearly the same tiny height probably made that observation moot.

And he was the first person Roman(?) had properly met. 

Virgil didn’t know what he was waiting for but the other suddenly spared him from needing to figure it out by hurrying off to some unknown goal.

Virgil jolted at the sudden movement, scrambling up to see where the man—figure— Roman was going.

Roman popped out from behind the bookend, nearly giving Virgil a heart attack. Though before Virgil could properly decide if he was running for the wall door, Roman held up what he’d retrieved, out to Virgil with an eager look.

He had Virgil’s violin and bow, carefully held out in offering. Virgil blinked dumbly as he slowly took it.

Roman bounced on the balls of his feet a little before splaying his arms out, standing on the tips of his toes again. He was looking expectantly at Virgil and the nervous teen clutched the instrument as he realized. 

Virgil lifted the violin to tuck under his chin, mind reeling for what to play. He watched Roman stand straighter still and send a dashing smile his way, and suddenly Virgil found it easier just to let the melody that felt right flow. They both anticipated the start of the music as Virgil played the first clear note. His hands did the rest on their own, skillfully guiding the bow along the strings.

And Roman…Virgil had no idea how he knew to dance in such a way. He danced like a man finally free of rigid demands, and it was more enchanting than the beautifully poised expectation of the dancer frozen in place on a spinning point. Despite the freedom to move, Roman seemed to enjoy the little fast turns and twirls, and he spotted Virgil to keep from growing dizzy. It was impressive and alluring, the thin ruffly tule at the bottom of his shirt waving around his waist even as he stopped, catching himself gracefully with a flourish.

This was a man unrestricted, flowing in sync to the timeless music like he’d practiced it a hundred times and now had his opening night performance. His vest glittered stunningly as he moved with more grace and freedom than a person made of wood should have been able to. But it was natural for him. Roman moved across the table elegantly, the resonating sounds working with him as he reached toward the streaming moonlight like it was where their unseen audience might be. Then he was stretching into a near bow as he stepped back, going into tight spins as he twirled away, arms tucked in.

Virgil was in awe, turning to keep the dancer in sight as he played his violin for him. Roman beamed in his exuberance for just a moment before tamping the pure joy to focus again. The smile never fully left.

The dance and song sped up in tandem, and Roman swept around Virgil close enough to reach out and take his hand. Virgil was captivated and almost stuttered to a stop as Roman used his shoulder as a support, hand barely applying weight as Roman leaned in with dazzling bright eyes. It was a long gaze and yet just as quickly as he’d appeared at Virgil’s side, Roman was flitting away as if carried off by the drifting tune as the song peaked. 

As the song finished, both Roman and Virgil stepped into their final poses, Roman’s not dissimilar to the one he took on the stand, with pointed feet and one arm curved high above his head. Both seemed breathless in their own way, watching one another as they stood still, just taking it in. Virgil moved first, lowering his arms and letting a little grin spread on his face despite himself. “That was amazing!! How do you know how to dance??? It’s like you just knew??” Roman let himself down from the pose, the bright smile back as he padded over to Virgil. He laid his hands over Virgil’s bow hand and bounced happily, trying to convey his own excitement. Up close, Virgil could definitely still see the wooden body that made up the dancer, and the little joints that allowed him to pose freely were visible through his sheer long sleeves. Virgil held his violin to his chest, looking at him in wonder. “Incredible…so..you’re Roman, right? Is that actually your name?” Roman tilted his head and then nodded happily. 

“Really? Because I doubt my dad’s just guessed that out of the thousands of names, right?”

Roman pointed to the stairs that led up to the living area of their home then back at himself. Virgil looked a little confused. “I’m guessing you can’t talk, since…no voice box?” 

Roman stilled a bit but nodded once more, unbothered by this but acknowledging it. 

“Oh…well, it’s nice to meet you, Roman. You’re an incredible dancer,” he stated, looking away sheepishly and couldn’t believe he was embarrassed right now to be talking to a magical doll person. 

Roman perked up at that though and insistently tapped Virgil’s hand, nodding hard as he pointed at Virgil. He clapped happily and Virgil’s face flushed. “I-I’m still learning, but thank–thank you– do you– uh, need to rest? Sit down?”

Roman shrugged but tugged Virgil’s hand as he walked to sit down by the red box he belonged to. Virgil went willingly, sitting beside Roman who tucked his legs to the side, probably limited in how he could move this way.

They were able to see the moon and stars through the window across the room. 

“Are you cursed?” Virgil suddenly asked without thinking and winced as soon as it left his mouth. 

He glanced at Roman, who very much seemed to be chuckling at him, even as no sound came out. Ro shook his head. Virgil relaxed a little. 

“Oh, good– so just a magical creation? Are you…aware…of things? Like when you were frozen earlier?”

Roman looked thoughtful, then reached around Virgil to point at the key in the box.

Virgil tried very hard not to blush at the closeness as Roman peered at him and then the key insistently. 

“T-The key? Okay, you–you know about the key??”

Roman frowned, then mimed turning it and dramatically opening his eyes. He pointed to his ears and the violin. Virgil’s tired mind raced.

“...you– you’re aware when your key is turned? The music does it? O-Or, like– you can see and hear and things…?” he tried.

Roman smiled and pulled away, nodding. Virgil wasn’t sure exactly what he got right, but he was pretty sure Roman could see and hear whenever the key was turned. He started to worry. “And when the key isn’t turned?? You aren’t–aware of that too, right?” Roman put out his hands and shook his head gently. He seemed to search for the right thing to attempt to communicate before he mimicked sleeping.

Virgil relaxed as he seemed to finally understand. “Oh. Okay, it’s like you’re not awake, then? …How do you even know what sleeping is.”

Roman just smiled and shrugged, but the look he was giving him led Virgil to think that was not all.

Virgil talked for what became hours with Roman. He ended up showing him around the shop using his bridges and walkways along the walls, holding his hand as they went. Roman seemed perfectly happy to listen, and he’d point and get Virgil’s attention when he wanted to know what something was. 

Virgil played him another song when Roman silently requested such. He had no idea how the night was over so soon. They were back on Patton’s worktable and Roman was standing by his box, trying to convey to Virgil that he had to go back. 

Virgil was disheartened as he watched. “Can I see you again soon? I’m sure Dad would love to meet you, and maybe then you won’t have to go back on that thing.”

Roman turned back to Virgil, interest peaked. He gave Virgil a soft look and hugged him, gentle and earnest as he tried to convey what he felt. Virgil was very still as he cautiously settled his arms around Roman’s back. 

Roman pulled away too soon, and Virgil let him go. Virgil watched as he settled his foot back on the support, and posed as he had been, confident and with a professional ease. Virgil didn’t know for certain when, but between one blink and the next, Roman was once again just a figure on the musicless box.

He would figure out what he had to do to see him again.

—-

The next morning, Virgil tried to show Patton when he woke up. He played part of a song from Swan Lake and watched, but Roman did not shift from his spot, much to Virgil’s confusion. Patton enjoyed his son playing, though seemed a little confused about what he was supposed to see. “That was lovely, kiddo! It really is lovely to watch him spin to music.”

But Virgil just sighed, shaking his head. “No, he– last night– he was dancing! To my music, and smiling, and…and…” his face grew hotter as Patton was smiling at him, hands clasped and Virgil quickly looked away. 

“I’m really happy you like him, Virgie! Maybe it’s a good thing we never found the music for his box. You playing whatever you want is a wonderful idea.” 

Virgil was dejected. Did it only happen once? Had he truly dreamed it? No, he had seen it, felt Roman’s cool hand in his. Was he shy to come out in front of his dad? But Roman had seemed genuinely eager to say hello when Virgil mentioned them meeting. Maybe it was just conditional? Roman wouldn’t likely know– he’d just been just as surprised as Virgil when it had happened the first time.

He brainstormed about this in his room most of the day, coming out occasionally to help Patton around the shop– he was very good at moving small things about and getting them for his dad, as well as ringing up customers– and to eat.

That night, Virgil went down to the shop after dinner. Violin in hand, he turned the key fewer times than before and started to play a pretty, upbeat tune. The wooden dancer spun stiffly, but as the song neared its end, the arm became less rigid as it lifted with more grace. The smile etched in place became wider still and Roman shifted, lifting his foot higher then back down as he bowed. 

Virgil grinned, stopping as Roman found him on the table nearby and waved. Virgil quickly pulls himself up onto the base. “Roman! You’re still here,” he breathed, and Roman gave him a bright look and eager nod.

Virgil offered his hands. “Here, let me help this time.” Roman gratefully took the help, holding Virgil’s shoulders as he carefully lifted his foot free of the metal stand. Virgil helped and was shocked at how easy it was to lift him for support. He wasn’t as dense as a flesh and blood being, and Virgil didn’t know what to do with the fact that he could easily hold Roman over his head if he wanted to. He let go of his waist before he got any more silly thoughts and hopped down from the box. He offered Roman his hands and Roman took them to get down easily as well, hopping with a grace he apparently always possessed.

It was another night of strolling around the shop and performing for one another as music filled the air. They ended up on the railed windowsill beside the door. Roman somehow made him feel like he was a part of the dance despite Virgil being his musician, dancing captivatingly around him. Even as the song ended, Roman danced in the silence, and the music was in his head as he enticed Virgil to join him. Virgil nervously set his violin down and couldn’t refuse that beautiful smile as Roman took his hands and danced with him. 

Virgil honestly felt like it was only Roman’s skill that kept them from tripping over each other. He certainly didn’t know how he’d become the lead in this soundless song that they both knew the steps for. But he twirled Roman easily and guided him into dips that he’d seen dance partners do on the stage. It was relaxed and free of any real form, but they were miraculously in sync together.

He got bolder and confident with the trust Roman put in him, and how had he ever earned that?? He settled his hands at Roman’s waist as the other guided them there and he lifted Roman with little trouble. Roman settled a hand on Virgil’s shoulder as he posed and Virgil turned with him, then let go to raise his arms high, trusting the person supporting him. 

When Virgil set Roman back down, Roman was giddy, hands waving at his sides as he jumped and did a little happy dance in place. He threw his arms around Virgil, and that time he really almost did knock him over from the force of the hug. Virgil laughed, letting himself go to the ground as one arm wrapped around Roman. “Yeah–yes, it was fun–”

Roman’s smile couldn’t get much bigger as he tucked against Virgil, happily nudging him and content.

Virgil had never danced with someone in his life; not like this, where their hand wasn’t his platform or partner. Not in a way where he was on equal footing, able to hold them close. They sat there together, catching their breath and gazing out at both the sleeping town and the stars above. Virgil must have nodded off because suddenly the sky was lighter and Roman was shifting next to him.

Virgil sat up straighter as Roman stood, looking back across the shop to the table. To his stand. He looked down at Virgil and offered him a hand, gesturing. Virgil’s at-ease expression changed to one of concern. “You want to go back?”

Roman looked off to the side with a small, sad shrug. 

“If you don’t want to, just stay, you don’t have to go back.” Virgil insisted, taking one of Roman’s hands in both of his own.

Roman gave him a gentle smile, free hand held to Virgil’s cheek. He stood on his toes and pressed a kiss to Virgil’s forehead, hoping it said all he needed for him. Virgil held his hand there for as long as he could before Roman began to pull away. Virgil squeezed his hand imploringly.

“W-Wait! What if you just don’t go back onto the box? Then you won’t turn back again, you could stay! I-I’d love if–if you could stay?” he practically pleaded.

Roman turned back slowly to him, holding his hand reassuringly but his expression was apologetic. He looked down at his foot: a simple cloth slipper that covered the wood and the hole to anchor him to his place.   

Virgil shook his head. “You don’t have to get back up there! Dad will absolutely understand once he meets you— please. Let’s just try it?”

Roman looked hesitant as he looked over at the growing dawn light filtering through the window. But he nodded obligingly and settled beside Virgil, resting his head lightly against Virgil’s shoulder. Virgil tiredly held his hand and they sat there against the window frame to wait together, though really it was just an excuse to not say goodbye again. 

Virgil was not truly surprised when Roman went still and rigid against his side, his hand losing its grip even as Virgil continued to hold it, gently stroking with his thumb. He felt disappointed tears brim for a moment, but he didn’t let them fall. Roman wasn’t gone. Virgil could bring him back in the evening. But it wasn’t fair that he would not get to see a sunrise.

As Patton found him and fretted about whether Virgil had been out here all night (and he didn’t ask why was Roman off the box), Virgil was devising a way to change that. As his dad gently scooped him up and took him upstairs to deposit him into his little bed in the wall, Virgil lay there vowing that he’d find a way to break the spell keeping Roman trapped to the night. He deserved to bask and dance freely in the sheer unreflected light of day. 

Virgil would show him all of life he could, beyond the shop and all the music he could dance to to his heart’s content. Virgil wanted to play all his favorite songs for him and to dance with him again. Roman would get to really live, and Virgil was determined to be by his side through it all. 

[lulubelle814]

A Marriage of Convenience - Epilogue

A Marriage of Convenience Masterlist

Main Masterlist

While Loki wanted to keep the origins of their marriage a secret, Eva encouraged him to be honest with his parents.  Odin was livid to find out the marriage was a sham and threatened to not only throw Loki out of the company but to cut him out of his will as well. 

“You have brought disgrace to this family and to my company! I should cut you out of my will and my company!” His face was turning red from so much anger. Meanwhile, Loki wished they'd kept it to themselves but instead fought back. “Why should it matter how this began considering where we are now? This would have happened between us eventually. I do not see why this is such an issue for you.”

As Odin began to respond, Frigga placed a gentle hand on his shoulder. She could see the look of pure love when her son looked at his wife.  “Loki is correct; however, I believe we should step back and take some time before anyone says something they will regret.”  Loki was grateful to his mother for her support.

Odin, Loki, and Eva all agreed. Dinner ended early to avoid more arguments.  Frigga spoke to Eva when walking them out.  “It's not hard to see how much my son loves you. I could tell something was amiss when you first came to dinner, but I had a feeling it would all work out.”

The drive home was quiet.  As Loki drove, Eva ordered Chinese for delivery as it was a comfort food for both of them, making sure to include both egg rolls and cream cheese rangoons. 

Arriving home, Loki loosened the tie around his neck as they went to change into more comfortable clothes. “That could have gone much worse. If it were not for mother, we'd have easily been thrown out of the house.”

Eva placed a gentle hand on his shoulder, much the same as Frigga had with Odin.  “If they had, at least we'd still have each other.”  He placed a hand on top of hers, grateful for her calming presence.

Over the next few weeks, Odin gave Loki mostly grunt work that no one else wanted to do, items that would typically go to interns or entry level employees (lovingly referred to as peons in some of the upper management but never to their faces).  He'd not done this type of work in quite some time, but with his wife's encouragement, he used it as an opportunity to see what could be improved. After about 6 weeks or so, he'd located at least half a dozen different ways to streamline the work which would not only make it easier for the peons but would also save time and money, roughly estimating some $2.5 mil a year. 

When Odin saw this, he was impressed and had other upper management members do the same with their departments who then used it as competition to see who could save more time and money while the work getting done would still be done correctly. They ended up creating a bi-yearly competition across the company to give ideas, no matter how absurd. Upper management would then review the ideas and see which ones were plausible. 

Odin finally came around regarding the actual origins of his son's marriage roughly a year after their confession when Eva and Loki announced they were expecting. When their son, Oakley, was born a few months later, Odin was completely enamored, already wrapped around his grandson's little finger. 

Three years later, they had a little girl, Gwendolyn. Oakley loved his baby sister and vowed to always protect her. If there was any animosity left with Odin, Gwendolyn quickly erased it. Both children loved their grandparents immensely and were spoiled rotten. 

When it came time for Odin to retire, Loki stepped on to take his place with his father's blessing. Eva opted to stay home with the children, but as they grew older, she started back working with her husband as he'd never been able to find a secretary to match his wife's caliber. Together, they brought the company to new heights.  When it came time for Loki to retire, his son did not want to take his place; however, his daughter did. Gwendolyn continued the work her father started as her parents enjoyed retirement and traveled the world.

Dividers by @jiyascepter

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