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mxvladdy · 3 years

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Lost Affections: Part 3

Ayyyyoooo. Here is the last part to @marymaryroo's request!

On to the next one :)

Magic is a beautiful and powerful thing. It permeates the Devildom like an eternal fog. For the residents, it is as common as breathing. From the strongest of their kind down to the lowest inhabitants, it is integral to their culture and daily life. Mistakes and accidents happen daily with young and old alike learning or experimenting. Magical rebounds and mishaps mean very little to them, especially the brothers. From the Celestial Realms down, they have seen it all.

Sometimes they forget that to you, magic can be a volatile and dangerous.

Beelzebub

Beel would never call himself accident-prone. He didn’t trip and stumble like Belphie when sleep deprived. He most certainly wasn’t as bad as Mammon when he was without his glasses or contacts. No, he would never say he was that bad. While not clumsy he knew he could be careless, especially when food was in the picture. He didn’t think twice about eating random things. It did hurt anyone, not physically. Sure, Luke and Satan got a little put out when he swiped something, but it didn’t hurt them.

He just forgets sometimes that you are different. You and he go together so well he forgets that you aren’t a demon. You don’t have the steel stomach or fast recovery time that he has. You make up for it. When you go out to eat you always research the place ahead of time. Does the place have non-enchanted food? Human grade options? If not, you make sure that Beel has his fill before taking him somewhere more appropriate for your stomach. Neither of you thinks about residual contaminants.

His life with you unravels with kisses. It is a slow, inconspicuous death. It builds over time with each brush of his lips to yours. Neither of you notices the taste of magic clinging to his mouth or tongue, neither of you thinks of the implications of all the weird potions and food he samples.

It starts small, you forget simple things about him. When his club activities ended, or what his favorite post-game drink was. He brushes it off, it’s trivial really. You are busy and these things can happen to the best of them. He keeps brushing off the nagging worry until he can’t.

It comes to a head one night at the door to your room. “Beel?” You yawn, pulling your robes closer around you. “What’s up?” You glance down at the box of snacks and pillows in his hands. “Did I miss something?”

“It’s date night.”

Your brows shoot up, facing heating. “What.” You sputter. Beel frowns, placing the box at his feet. With slow movements, he places his hand on your forehead. You were a little warm.

“Mmmmm.” His hearts flutter with nerves. Was his little human sick? He ignores the way you stiffen when he touches you. “Do you need a doctor?” He asks bending down to look you in the eye. He catches a whiff of something when you exhale. It is faint but clings to your breath, it’s sickly sweet and sharp to his nostrils. “You need a doctor.”

Without a second thought, he grabs your arm and drags you out of your room. His food forgotten in the hallway with your protests buzzing in his ears. “Beel...Beel!” You stumble after him. He ignores you each step he takes determined and picks up speed. Before you know it you are sitting next to Gluttony in Purgatory waiting for Solomon, beyond confused and anxious.

You fidget on the couch, peeking glances at the troubled look on the red-heads face. This wasn’t like him. He was a man of few words, sure, but this was new. Beel left you to your devices mostly, a few polite conversations here and there, but you two never hung out a lot. You zone out when he starts talking to Solomon. You were still half asleep from Beel waking you up. You had been sleeping so soundly beforehand. “Are you alright?” You jerk awake unaware that you started dozing again. Solomon crouches in front of you.

“I think so?” You had no idea what this was about. “I’m just tired.” The mage says nothing to you, instead turning to glance at Beel. He jerks his head to the door, a clear signal for the old demon to wait outside.

With one last pitiful glance, Beelzebub leaves the two humans to converse. “Now then.” Solomon rounds his piercing eyes back to you. “Tell me how's your stay in the Devildom?”

You tell him confused but willing to play along with his odd request, the sooner you wrap this up the sooner you can go back to bed. An odd feeling of missing something begins to grow as you tell him. Soon you began to fumble, the harder you try to recount something the harder it was to collect. You still were convinced anything was seriously wrong but the growing look of concern on Solomon’s face was making you think otherwise. “So,” You finish rubbing your knees with sweaty palms. “I’m I dying or something?”

He laughs dismissing the notion with a wave of a well-manicured hand. “No, no your soul is still firmly in place.” He rubs his chin. “But you have lost your memory, only when it comes to Beelzebub though. It is very peculiar. Have you ingested anything weird of late? Done any experiments with Satan?” You shake your head. To the best of your knowledge, you have been really careful with your food intake while down here. Devildom foods were delicious but had potential side effects for you and Solomon.

Solomon nods. He figured that. “Could I draw some blood? It sounds to me like you might have trace contamination of some kind. Diavolo and I discussed that this might happen but I wish to double-check.” Well, that’s worrisome, you nod and begin to roll up your sleeve. Solomon bustles collecting a few vials and a mouth swab for extra measure.

“Thank you.” He smiles looking at the samples with scientific glee. “I will let you know what I find. Until then, I guess just go about your regular day. Unless you feel ill, in that case, come to me immediately.” With that, he leaves you depositing you back with Beel.

The walk back to the House was more subdued, both of you were confused as to what to do next. “So,” You flounder. “We were-are an item?”

He shrugs looking down at you. “Yes. We’d hang out in your room on Saturdays, and get brunch on Sundays... do you still want to?”

You shrug feeling awkward. You felt nothing but platonic friendship to the large demon, though Solomon did fill you in on what you apparently have forgotten. “If you want to? I’m up now, and too nervous to sleep.” Beel grunts clenching his fists at his side.

“No,” He shakes his head. “You should rest, even if you can’t sleep. This is overwhelming. I’ll see you at breakfast tomorrow?” You feel bad. He sounds so hopeful when he asks, like a good night’s sleep was all you needed to fix whatever this was.

You reach for his big hand and squeeze it. “Sure, Beelzebub. I’ll see you tomorrow.” He lets you go watching you head back into the house. Running on instinct he turns and heads into the dense forest surrounding the house. He needed to hunt for a bit.

That’s how his twin finds him, gorging himself on the fauna of the forest. Belphie’s socked feet pad loudly over the dried grass and scattered bones of the once lush lowlands. “You know Lucifer is going to be pissed. It takes forever for the wildlife to come back after one of your benders.” He tosses his oversized pillow onto the dead grass and lays down. Belphie doses for a moment, the sound of his brother’s many mouths and whistling of wings a white noise to him. Up until an obnoxious locus landed on his nose.

“Beel.” He flicks the bug off his face, shooting the swarm coating his brother’s skin a sour look. “What’s going on?”

Forgot. Me. One of his mouths rattles out, flecks of meat and vegetation falling from between crooked and jagged teeth. Another opens near his rib cage to speak. They. Don’t. Love. Me.

“I’ll kill them.” Already Belphie is back on his feet. He feels for his brother and his plight, but the thought that you betrayed him after you promised to never hurt Beel took precedence. The storm of bugs goes quiet, all the millions of eyes now turn to him. They jerk and twitch in unison before converging back on the mass of leathery gaunt skin of his brother. His human form takes shape slowly, shiny wings and many mandibled skulls melding together to create his flesh.

Beel grabs Belphie’s shoulders. His claws dig into the soft fabric of his nightshirt. “It’s not their fault.”

“Then who?” Beel chuckles weakly at his brother’s blood lust. He couldn’t deny that he felt it too, but he had no idea where to channel this anger.

So he ate. It calmed him a little. If he could get into the village and eat there...no. The last time he siphoned the emotions from the populous at large Lucifer got mad. The whole of the Devildom had to shut down for a good week to recover. He rubs his stomach a feeling of agitation growing in the pits of them. “Don’t know. Solomon is taking a look at it.” Belphie snorts a sneer growing on his lips. “He is helping, Belphie.”

“Sure-right. That boy meddles in all shorts of shit he shouldn’t. Careful he doesn’t try to bargain with your skin for this.” He eyes where your mark rests on his brother. It would be a perfect lure to entrap his twin in a pact.

Hmm.

No, none of this would do. Belphegor would rather die than let some human-like Solomon meddle anymore in his family’s affairs, and as far as he was concerned the moment you started seeing Beel you were as another sibling. “Come on. Let’s get you back to the house. I’ll bring dinner up to our room.”

After settling Beel under the covers of his massive bed Belphie went on the hunt for more food in the kitchen. He stops by your bedroom door picking up the box of goodies still left in front of it. He piles more things into the box when he reaches the kitchen. Swiping up snacks at random Belphie piles the box sky high. His hand stops over a few of your favorite human snacks. Should he? Honestly, it was a blind shot in the dark if it would comfort his brother or not. After a bit more debate Belphie puts the chocolates back, a different idea already turning in his head.

Back in their shared room, he listens to his brother run down the last week between huge bits of sweets. As he recounts every little thing that has gone down they both began to notice just how strange you have been. Both twins sit in the aftermath of Beel’s words, a wasteland of wrapper and silence stretching between them. “Think it will come back?” The twins lock eyes, Beel’s large and unsure but simmering with foolish hope.

“Possibly.” Belphie grits out, breaking their eye contact. He could never lie to his brother, at least not to his face. “Get some rest. I’m sure someone will have a plan in motion by tomorrow.” He’ll set his plans in motion tonight.

Lying in wait some hours later Belphie listens through the walls of the massive house for your quick little human heartbeat in your bedroom. He matches his shallow breaths with yours feeling yourself slip into slumber and his realm. Once you are completely under he drifts off himself.

He enters your dreams and scowls unused to stumbling inside of a dreamscape. Your dreams are muddled and clotted with stick webs of confusion and hazy memories. Odd bits and pieces of images drip around the edges of your mind. This place was a disgusting mess. With a deep sigh, Belphie begins trudging through the quagmire.

He peers around making note of the black holes in your mind like canvas ripped from their frames. Rotten magic assaults him from all sides. Stopping in front of a particularly deep gash in your mind he rolls up his oversized sleeves finding what he was looking for. He knew this memory was in it, just on the outskirts of the scene playing out. He could knit this rip back together easily, after that it should give him some clarity on the others he couldn’t place.

This was going to take a lot of energy. No one would notice if he stole some energy to get things started. Belphie smiles to himself already tapping into Lucifer's dreamscape, taking a bit more than he needed. You deserve only the best after all.

__________________

“Morning everyone.” You chirp plopping down in your chair. The brothers reply with groggy acknowledgments, completely unlike themselves. You look around at the bunch. “Are you all ok?” The group grunts collectively yawning or rubbing their weary eyes.

“Tough night.” Lucifer looks up from his newspaper. He was half-dead in his chair, a cup of coffee shaking in his hands. Asmo sits beside him looking on the verge of tears as he gently pokes his swollen cheeks and eyelids. The only two that seem to even be remotely coherent were the twins. The youngest of the two sleeping oblivious to the turmoil of his siblings while his brother stares at your every move. “Good morning Beel.” You nod feeling awkward in this shared space.

“Morning.” He smiles at you, a few crumbs clinging to the corner of his mouth. Something ticks in the back of your mind at his look. A foggy image comes to mind. It feels like a dream, but so real at the same time. It makes you nauseous, a weird sense of dejavu fighting its way to the forefront. “You ok?” He puts a hand on your shoulder.

You blink noticing the room at large turning their gaze to you. You nod, reaching across from him for some leftover food. The moment a bowl of cereal was in your hands Asmo swept you up in a conversation about his “fading” looks. You don’t think of Beel and your predicament for the rest of the day, not until Solomon invites you over to his hall for tea.

“You were poisoned.” He states simply over his sorry excuse of scones. You pause in the middle of trying to break a piece off on the table.

“I’m sorry?”

“Nothing to apologize for, unless you did it intentionally.” He laughs. “It appears to be through slow ingestion over a long period of time. The levels in your blood are staggering but not lethal. It looks like the magic took root in the temporal lobe-much like a tumor, really quite fascinating- and has been eating away at the memories of the person, or in this case, a demon that poisoned you.” Beel had been poisoning you? Solomon waves his hand at your look of concern. “I am quite positive that it was not intentional. Mind you he does find the most wondrous things to shovel down his gullet. The fact that it mixed perfectly into a potion instead of a lethal toxic is sheer dumb luck on your end.” You breathe a sigh of relief finally tossing the baked good away as a bad job. Well that's...something. At least you’d be alive to stumble around your apparent “forgotten boyfriend”.

“Any chance of fixing this?”

Solomon shrugs. “Possibly? I need more time to figure out exactly what components are involved in your test results. Then making a tonic to undo all the magic is another thing entirely.”He discusses a few other options with you for a few hours, going over in great detail the ins and outs of potion-making. Soon the windows of the sunroom grew dark, the glow of the lamps outside growing brighter so you could see the pathway back to the house.

“I better head back.” You stretch looking out into the pitch outside. Hmmm, if you remember correctly Levi should be off of work by now. He said to call when he was done to come to pick you up. As if on cue a sharp knock on the door disrupts you. Instead of a shock of blue hair, you are greeted with orange. “Oh-hey Beel.”

“Hey.” The corner of his mouth twitches in a facsimile of a friendly smile. “Ready to go?” He picks up your forgotten school bag and takes your sweater from the coat rack. With a well-practiced motion, he slings the bag over his shoulder and holds your sweater open for you. He obviously did this a lot before…

You stare back wide-eyed at Solomon who only smirks, nodding at you to hurry up.

Out the door and into the chilly night you sneak a peek at Beelzebub walking quietly beside you. He catches your look and raises a brow. “Sorry.” You feel your cheeks heat a little under his thoughtful gaze.

“About?”

“All of this.” You wave at yourself. “Please don’t feel obligated to hang out with me. Until we can get this settled. I don’t want to hurt your feelings.”

Beel grunts, stopping in his tracks by a low garden wall. “I was hurt-am still hurting.” He admits. “But this isn’t your fault, so what good does it do to blame you for it? Even if you don’t remember me as your partner, you still remember me as a friend...right?” A warm smile spreads across his face when you nod. “Then I’m ok with this. I haven’t lost you completely and even if you don’t ever feel the same way about me anymore, I think I will be ok.”

“I- thank you Beel. That means a lot.”

“Of course.” He hums. “Let’s head back. I think Asmo left some food out.”

You dream of Beel again, a weird amalgamation of scenes all tossed together in a great pile with you in the middle of it. You could do nothing but watch like a film as they rush by you in a blur. Some scenes didn’t line up right, bouncing around like a scratched vinyl, but it still made sense in a way only a dream could. You play out each dream like an actor, the script coming to you naturally with each little venette. You sit outside his locker room, a basket of food and drink in your lap, your heart fluttering in your chest. You and Beel were watching his brothers on the beach, his broad hands rubbing sunscreen into your skin. Beel walking you back to your room after a long night in the library holding your hand in his strong, sure grip. Saturday afternoons spent hopping from one cafe to the next sampling the sweets and drinks to both of your heart's content.

It grips your heart but slips away with the rise of the young morning moon.

When morning comes the night is nothing more than a few smudges in your mindscape. Yet, a light, sweet feeling stays with you. You found yourself smiling more around the redhead and gravitating to him during the day. He accepts you back with a friendly hug and a friendly ear.

He treats you no differently than you remember. It’s nice. Even if a part of your yearns to see how he treated you when you were more than friends.

You begin to get excited for when your head hits your pillow. The dreams become clearer and clearer each night. Some new pieces show up and fall into place as the weeks progress. You start seeing bits of your dreams in the day too. After-images of you hand in hand with him walking down the other side of the street. The taste of something sweet on your tongue or a familiar scent in your nose.

After one particularly vivid dream, you wake determined not to let the contents of this dream slip through your fingers. This time you dreamt of the kitchen, dirty bowls, and units scattered about the cluttered counters. You had been baking something, and failing miserably.

Sneaking down to the kitchens you pull out all the things you could remember. For some reason, this dream lit a fire in you, like it was the last piece of the puzzle to getting it all back. You don’t think, instead, you just let your body take control. You baked a cake.

Well, it was supposed to be a cake. The center was too spongy and collapsed inward while the sides were dark and cracked. The icing was badly blended and melting from the still-warm pastry. It was almost exactly like the one from your dream.

You stare at it waiting for some great revelation, but nothing comes. Great. Now what?

“I smell food.”

“Gods!” You jerk smacking your knee on your bar stool. Beel’s deep voice scaring you half to death. “Should put a bell on you.” You grin. Beel peeks his head through the door brows furrowed.

“This is familiar.” He walks in pulling up another chair to sit next to you.

“Ye?” You look back at him.

“Yes. This was our first kiss.” You drop your icing spoon. “You wanted to surprise me before a big game.” He put a finger through the thick black and purple icing and pops it in his mouth. “Ah- You forgot the bane extract...I had thought that perhaps you remembered.” The hope in his voice stung your chest.

Oh. You look down at the mess you made, whatever feelings of satisfaction are lost. “I thought I was forgetting something, but my dreams are all blurry.”

“Dreams?” Beel pauses reaching for a slice. “You dreamt of this?”

“Yes. Been dreaming about you a lot of late.” You flush. “Little things that are starting to build a bigger picture. I just had this dream of a cake and the urge to make one...so- here we are.” You wave your hand out over the messy kitchen. Sighing plopping your chin down on your palm. “Guess I can sleep on it a bit more huh?” You shoot him a quick wink and sad smile.

“Or just ask Belphie.” He shrugs, taking another large slice of the disaster. “Sounds like he’s been meddling.” That realization hits you like a ton of bricks. Damn, you could have slapped yourself. “I’m sure he meant well, but he shouldn’t force you if you don’t want to. I could tell him to stop.”

What! No! You shake your head. “No. I-I don’t mind it. Solomon has yet to figure anything out, and whatever your brother is doing seems to be helping a little.” Beelzebub said nothing to that and just continued to eat while you started the dishes.

“Do you want to end tonight like we did before?” He asks sometime later, half of the dishes now drip drying in the rack. His long arms box you in on either side holding on to the lip of the sink. His head dips low, his chin resting on the top of your head. Deep down you knew that you could leave at any time. His grip was loose and easily breakable, considerate as ever to your comforts.

You turn to face him, a soft look crosses his face. “And how did it end?” He grins moving closer. You would have to thank Belphie for his interference. Just, perhaps later. You doubted he would want to be in your dreams tonight.

#obey me fan fic #obey me beel x mc #obey me beelzebub #fan fic requests #obey me fandom #obey me

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darkficsyouneveraskedfor · 4 years

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Into The Woods

Warnings: noncon sexual acts; vaginal, anal.

This is dark!Lumberjack!Bucky and explicit. Your media consumption is your own responsibility. Warnings have been given. DO NOT PROCEED if these matters upset you.

Summary: You’re sent to make a delivery to the man in the woods.

Note: This is for @imanuglywombat and @nellblazer‘s Lumberjack Challenge. I couldn’t see if they were accepting dark fics so if they aren’t, I guess it’s just another fic lol. But anyways, the challenge inspired me.

Thank you. Love you guys!

As always, if you can, please leave some feedback, like and reblog <3

“You sure Dezy isn’t going to make it?” You asked as you helped Gerry load the crate onto the trailer.

“I’m sorry, I got all the other deliveries sent out with Milo but this one’s too far for him.” Gerry grunted as he closed the back of the open-top trailer. “I don’t know what’s gotten into Dezy. Second day in a row and yet I hear he’s down at the Horse every night.”

“Well, he’ll run out of beer money sooner than later,” You sighed as you pulled on your gloves. The air was starting to bite as the brief autumn was turning. “You sure you can manage without me?”

“Slow day in the shop,” He shrugged. “You just be careful.”

“Alright. I’ll do my best.” You climbed up onto the four-wheeler and fumbled with the thick key with the grizzly bear charm attached to it. “Maybe next time give me the easy ones.”

“I’ll tack an hour of overtime on your pay, how about that?” He chuckled. “You need to get out anyway. I know this place is small but you can’t spend all your time reading those harlequins in the dry good section.”

“They’re not harlequins,” You turned the engine and raised your voice as you gripped the handlebars. “They’re fantasy, Ger.”

“Sure, sure,” He backed away. “You go or you won’t make it back by sundown.”

“Never far off these days,” You mused as you revved. “See ya, Gerry. Don’t forget to down stock the fishing wire.”

“Which one of us is the boss?” He called after you as you pulled out, the small trailer rumbling behind you.

You turned off at the end of the street, past the business fronts that looked like cabins. The town looked straight out of Western but with more snow. The first of the annual powder had yet to fall but you could feel it coming. You headed over the lumpy tundra past the sparse trees that grew thicker the further you got. The paths turned narrower and you steered slowly through the damp forest.

You only went so far out when your uncle took you ice fishing and rarely in this direction. You slowed as the path grew more uneven, carefully traversing the thick roots and deep valleys. The noise of the engine bounced off the trunks of trees around you. It was more than an hour before you reached your destination. At least, you thought you were in the right place. Weren’t too many cabins hidden in these trees; well not many still inhabited.

You pulled into the clearing and killed the engine. You hopped off the ATV and stretched your legs, your thighs tingled from the rumble. You went to the trailer and open the door and slid out the heavy trunk. You braced yourself before you lifted and gave a grunt. You’d packed the load yourself. You carried it past the old motorcycle and the neat stack of wood which marched the way to the broad front porch. You slowly ascended the three steps up and set down the heavy crate beside the door.

A bench made of logs, likely by hand, stood just a few feet from the front door, a woven blanket folded over the seat. The curtains were drawn within and you started to wonder if there was anyone there or if this was just another forgotten scene. It all seemed so eerily still.

You knocked and waited for an answer. Nothing. You tried again with the same result. Then, after a cold silence, you heard a door open and snap shut but it wasn’t the one before you. You turned as a man appeared beside the far corner of the porch. He appeared disturbed by your presence as he emerged from the old shed, his flannel jacket marked with patches of dirt and his dark hair poking out from beneath a woolen cap.

“He usually just leaves it there,” He clapped his gloved hands together as he brushed away the filth. “Thanks.”

“Uh, sorry,” You turned and ambled down the steps. “I didn’t realise.”

“Don’t be sorry,” He stayed near the corner, kicking his foot up onto the stump where an ax waited to be used. “Better get going before the sun beats you.”

“Sure,” You went back to the four wheeler. His eyes bore into you as you climbed up. “I didn’t mean to disturb you. I just--”

“Thanks,” He said again. “Driving out here all this way. Appreciate it.”

“No problem,” You turned the key. “Have a good day, sir.”

The engine roared to life and you carefully turned around, the empty trailer clattering behind you. You couldn’t help but feel him watching you still. You wanted to look back, but didn’t. You twisted the throttle and delved back through the treeline. You hoped Dezy would get his shit together, you weren’t keen on doing deliveries.

🪓

The next day, you were back to your usual fare. You stood at the long counter of Elk’s General, watching the locals as they wandered in and out, perusing the aisles of groceries, clothing, or novelty goods. You rung them through on the outdated till and smiled after them as they left with their paper bags.

The usual midday lull came and you pressed flat your latest read on the counter. You crossed your arms over the edge and bent over the pages, losing yourself in the fantastical medieval setting. Gerry didn’t mind so much as you kept an eye on customers.

The rusty bell above the entrance tinkled and you looked up suddenly. You turned your book over before you could lose your place. You stood up straight and smiled at your newest customer but froze as his eyes met yours. It was the man from the day before, to whom you had delivered the weeks worth of goods.

He ignored your usual greeting and marched over to you. He planted the bill for his delivery on the counter.

“I ordered six cans of maple beans. I have only four.” He said plainly.

“An oversight. I’m sorry, sir. Just a moment.” You gulped and flitted off to check the shelf. There were only the tomato beans in stock. You went to the back room and checked there. Nothing. You returned to the counter. “Looks like we’re all out but I’ll make a note to have them delivered when we get more. Or we can remove the charge from your bill.”

“Keep ‘em on,” He said as he reached into his pocket. “I can wait.” He unfolded the worn leather wallet. “I have to pay my account anyway.”

“Sure,” You reached to slid his bill closer and keyed the amount into the machine. “You could have called--”

“I don’t have a phone,” He growled as he counted out the bills. “I don’t like to be disturbed.”

You took the money and counted it. You avoided his gaze guiltily. You sorted the bills in the cash door and handed him his change. His gloves brushed your skin and he tucked the money away with his wallet.

“Good book?” He pointed to the novel.

“Alright, so far,” You answered quietly.

“I read his other one. The one set in Ancient Egypt. It was… interesting. Not my usual reading material though.” He tapped his fingers on the counter. “You have a good day, miss.”

He turned and left you as you returned his farewell. The door snapped shut behind him and you looked back down at the book. You opened the front page and read the list of works by the same author. You’d have to look into them.

🪓

Several days late, you were helping Gerry restock shelves with the newly acquired truck. The night before, you’d helped unload it and left it for the next day to sort through. Dezy sat behind the counter, half-keeled over on the stool, trying not to puke into his hands.

“Damn shit is hungover again,” Gerry muttered. “I got a whole list of deliveries today and he can’t even stand straight.”

“I can do it,” You offered. “Long as he can manage the till.”

“I don’t know if I even trust him to do that,” Gerry said. “You sure you wanna do the deliveries?”

“We got any of the maple beans on the truck?” You asked.

“A good amount.” He said.

“We owe two cans to-- well, I didn’t get his name. The man who lives way up in the trees.” You frowned, only then realising you new nothing about him. In that town, everyone knew everyone.

“Mr. Barnes?” Gerry reached over into the box and moved around several items before pulling out a can. “Quiet man. Doesn’t like to be bothered. Must’ve scared Dezy good to get him to shut up.” He took out two more cans. “If you’re willing to head up that way, you give him and extra can on me. He’s the only customer in town who pays on time.”

“Sure,” You stood, thankful not to be forced to kneel all day at the shelves. “The list?”

“Pinned up behind the counter as usual,” He caught a box of Corn Pops he hit with his elbow and swore. “Take a radio. Snow’s comin’.”

“Will do,” You said. “I should be that long.”

“Chill blowin’ in from the lake, bundle up before you go too.” He said.

“You sound like my mother.” You laughed.

“I feel like you’re mother,” He shook his head. “Now go, before I get sentimental.”

🪓

Gerry was right, it was cold. The four-wheeler seemed slower as the wind swirled around you. You stopped by each house and knocked before leaving your haul. You smiled away tips and bid each resident a good day before you rushed away under the protests of another delivery ahead of you.

Your last would take the longest, though it was the smallest. The tree cans rattled around the trailer so you stopped at the shop before you continued on and detached it. You placed the cans in a small box and secured it to the seat behind you with bungee cords. You fixed your gloves and pulled your cap over your ears before you set out once more.

The sky grew paler the later it got. A harbinger of snow. You took the same route as before, getting off once to push the ATV over a fallen branch caught beneath it. You carried on, the frigid air lashing your cheeks.

You drew up to the clearing as you had before. The motorcycle was gone, likely pushed into the shed in preparation for the first snowfall. The piles of wood had grown taller and the front door was open, the screen door a poor barrier to the looming winter.

You unhooked the box and climbed up the steps. You bent to set it down and be off. You looked up as you sensed something on the other side of the screen door. The man, Mr. Barnes, stared at you through the mesh, a mug in hand. You stood and smiled nervously.

“Your beans. An extra can for the inconvenience.” You said. “Have a good day, sir.”

You turned but caught yourself before you made it down one step as he spoke.

“It’s pretty cold.” He remarked as he took the box in his free hand. “You like coffee? I just made a pot.”

“I appreciate it,” You turned to him. “But I don’t mean to impose on you.”

“I wouldn’t ask if you were,” He said stiffly. “I’d feel worse letting half a pot go to waste.”

“I don’t know, I should--” You glanced behind you at the trees.

“You came all this way to give me beans in this,” He held the door with his elbow and stepped through. “You don’t like coffee, I got tea.”

You took a breath as you looked back to him. “Sure. I’ll have some coffee.”

He nodded and stared at you. He blinked and moved to hold the door open. “Well, you wanna come inside? Or do you prefer your coffee frozen?”

“Uh, yeah, okay,” You kicked yourself and stopped right before the door. You smiled awkwardly and offered your name. “I just… figured you wouldn’t want a stranger in your home.”

“Bucky,” He returned and waved you inside. “Not many strangers in town. Not really.”

You entered and he followed you. The entryway was lit by an antique lamp and the front room was entirely dark. You knelt to unlace your boots as he stepped around you. You kept your coat on as the wind continued to seep in behind you.

“Kitchens just down the hall past the stairs,” He said as he continued across the wooden floor.

“Okay,” You slid your boots off and stood, following his shadow to the kitchen.

As you passed through the doorway, he placed his mug on the table and went to the cupboard. He took down another thick ceramic cup and sidled over to the stove. He filled it from the percolator and returned to the table to place it before you.

“Milk? Sugar?”

“I’m fine, black is good,” You accepted as he slid the cup over to you.

You sat, hesitantly, and removed your gloves. You tucked them in your pocket and wrapped your hands around the steaming cup. He pulled out another chair and sat. He looked into the mug and slowly drank from it.

“I didn’t know anyone still lived out here.” You said.

“Sometimes,” He answered carefully. “Spring and summer I spend working the lumberyards south of here.”

“And you live all the way up here?” You wondered. He gave you a sharp look. “Sorry, it’s just… curiosity.”

“I like it,” He shrugged. “It’s quiet.”

You nodded and resigned yourself to silence. You listened to the wind outside and looked around at the tidy kitchen. Most of the original structure remained, renovated but not replaced. Even the curtains seemed to be of another era; faded but without holes or tears. All the way up here, time always seemed to stand still.

“You finish your book?” His voice jolted you.

You looked back to him and sipped the hot coffee. You nodded again.

“I did.” You answered. “It was alright.”

“Just alright?” He asked.

“I’ve read better and worse,” You said. “It was… entertaining.”

“Mmm,” He mumbled and drank his coffee. You mimicked him, eager to leave.

Ten minutes of silence and stunted small talk left your mug empty and your stomach gurgling. You stood and nervously teetered on your feet.

“I should go. It’s snowing already.” You glanced out the window.

“Sure,” He rose and gathered up the mugs and took them to the sink.

“Thank you.” You said and turned rigidly to head through the door.

You trod down the hallway and stopped to pull on your boots. You adjusted your cap and shoved your gloves on. He neared and you pushed open the door and glanced back at him.

“Coffee was good.” You said.

He caught the door behind you and you marched across the porch. You rushed down the steps and shivered as you neared the four wheeler.

“Be careful,” He said in monotone.

“I will, thank you,” You called back as you climb onto the seat. “Enjoy your beans.”

He waved and you turned the engine. You backed up and turned around. The snow had already left a thin powder across the ground. You steered into the trees and carefully began to weave around the trunks and along the uneven forest floor.

The snow thickened the more it fell. You had to slow as the ride became more precarious. The downfall formed a thick carpet beneath the tires and soon, even beneath the shroud of branches, the snow formed a curtain all around you, making it nearly impossible to see. You stopped and left the motor rumbling.

You pulled the radio from its holster down beside the wheel well and turned the dial until you picked up the signal. It was static and crackled.

“Gerry? Gerry!” You held the speak to your lips. “Gerry?”

“Yeah, i--me, ---okay?” His voice went in and out.

“I’m okay but the snow is… I can’t see. It’s going to take me a while.”

“Wha-- breaking up--” The radio broke off with a high pitched scratch.

“Damn it!” You shouted and tried fixing the dial. It didn’t help.

You sat for a moment and put the radio back. You couldn’t stay and let yourself get snowed in. You’d have to keep going, slow but steady. You carefully pulled past the trees, blinking away the flakes as they gathered on your lashes. You stopped again to pulled your scarf higher over your cheeks and pressed on.

The third time you paused, you realised you were lost. A brief lull allowed your vision to clear and you had no idea where you were. You kicked the side of the ATV and cursed. You grabbed the radio again and turned it on.

“Gerry?” No answer. Several more tries with nothing but static.

You hung your head and clicked the radio off. You gripped the handlebars and looked around. You’d have to turn around and try to trace your way back but the snow was starting to get heavy again and--

“Hey,” You jumped as the voice sounded from behind you. “You okay?”

You turned to find Bucky standing by a tree. “How--”

“Looks like you just went in a big circle,” He said. “You’re about ten minutes from my place.”

“What are you doing out here?” You asked.

“Wanted to grab some kindling before the storm got too bad, then I heard you.”

“Kindling?”

“Dry it out, obviously, but might run out of what I have before this clears,” He looked up. “Look, it’s only gonna get worse. Why don’t you wait it out?”

“I don’t-- I can’t--”

“There’s more than enough room for both of us. Might be a bit dusty but… Wouldn’t feel right letting you get lost out here.”

You exhaled and looked at the radio.

“Alright,” You relented.

“I’ll lead the way.” He came up beside the ATV and passed to the front. “Just don’t get too close.”

“Okay,” You turned the throttle just a bit and kept a snail’s pace as he guided you.

He barely seemed bothered by the gusts or the deepening snow. Even as the air turned almost completely white, he didn’t waver though you squinted to keep an eye on him.

“You like beans?” He yelled back to you as he broke through to the clearing around his house.

“Maple beans?” You asked dryly.

“They go great with toast,” He said as he continued onto the shed and unlocked the wide doors. “Warm you right up.”

🪓

You sat at the table, alone. Bucky had excused himself after clearing his own plates. You still picked away at the beans and sausage, listening to the movement above. You scooped the last few bites up and swallowed, washing it down with a gulp of water. You stood and went to the sink to rinse your plate. As you set it in the rack, you were startled by a creak behind you.

“I cleared a bedroom for you. It’s a bit dusty around here.” Bucky said as he leaned against the door frame. “Bit cold, too. Sorry about that.”

“It’s alright,” The windows shuddered. “Better than out there.”

“I put some clothes out too. Might be a little big.” He explained. “Dinner okay?”

“Yeah, it was…” You tried to smile. “Alright. Um, just one second.”

You neared him and he moved aside. You went down the hallway to where your jacket was hung and pulled the radio out. He watched you as you fiddled with it and the speaker crackled on.

“Gerry?” You held it to your lips.

“Kiddo?” He said, clear but not entirely.

“I’m okay,” You said slowly as you held the button down. “Staying until storm clears. Call in morning.”

“Roger, kiddo,” He returned. “Be safe.”

You turned off the radio and placed it back in your coat pocket. You looked up at Bucky as he stared at you dully.

“Just wanted to make sure someone knew,” You said. “Wouldn’t want them to worry.”

“Of course not,” He said. “You want a beer?”

“What?” You were thrown off by the sudden offer.

“Beer. If you want you can grab a book from the study,” He pointed to the doorway opposite the front room. “Sit in front of the fire where it’s warm.”

“I’ll take the book,” You said. “I’m not much for beer though.”

“Hot chocolate? Tea?” He stepped a little closer.

“I’m fine,” You squirmed. “Thank you.”

‘Just let me know if you need anything,” He said softly. “Haven’t had a guest in a while but… I can be accommodating.”

🪓

You read three chapters before you found your way upstairs. Bucky showed you the room he’d prepared for you but didn’t say much more before he closed himself into his own. You changed into the long sleeve tee he left you and the jogging pants with the drawstring waist. You tucked your feet into the wool socks and rolled under the blankets. You were still cold. The top floor was entirely untouched by the fireplace below.

You drifted into a shallow sleep. Maybe an hour or two before you woke, shivering. You sat up and reluctantly climbed out from beneath the covers. You took one of the blankets and wrapped it around you as you shuffled to the door. You slipped through, carefully not to let the hinges whine and plodded through the dark down the stairs.

In the front room, the fire burned a low amber. You crept over to it and took a log from the wrought iron basket just beside it. You placed it over the coals and stoked it with the poker until flames began to lick. You held your hands to the glow until you were no longer shaking.

You took a cushion from the couch and dropped it on the carpet. You laid down before the fire, wrapping yourself in the blanket as you basked in the warmth. You listened to the violent winds outside, softened by the heaps of snow which had gathered all around the cabin. Your eyes closed as you began to sink into the darkness around you.

You dreamt of the four wheeler, of the snow swirling around you, of losing yourself in the pure white. The trees curled and clawed at your as you were thrown from the seat. The snap of twigs filled your ears and your eyes snapped open. The fire popped as it burned, the room lighter but not much.

There was a heaviness around you. More than just the quilt, the thick arm wrapped around your middle held you close to the warmth at your back. Startled, you wriggled against the body and a groan slithered along your ear.

“What the--” You hissed as you grasped his wrist, his hand tucked beneath you. “What are you doing?”

“It’s cold,” His breath was hot as it seeped into your scalp. “You were shivering.”

“Let me go,” You tugged on him.

“Shhh,” He hushed. “It’s early.”

“Dude, not cool,” You pulled harder on his arm.

“Stop,” He said more firmly.

“Get off of me.” You growled.

“You’re not a very gracious guest,” He snarled as he retracted his arm, only to grab your shoulder and push you flat on your back.

You latched onto his wrist, he was strong. He didn’t budge.

“You’re scaring me.”

“Scaring you?” He removed his hand. “How? What do you think I’m gonna do?”

He sat up, his broad shoulder stretched the waffled shirt he wore as he rubbed his eyes. He pushed his head back and took a deep breath. You pushed yourself up slowly beside him.

“What do you want me to do?” His hand settled on your thigh and he squeezed.

“Stop,” You tried to push his hand away and he flipped it to grasp yours.

His grip slipped to your wrist and he twisted. He wrenched it over your head until you were forced onto your back. You cried out as he leaned over you, the blanket slipping entirely from your bodies.

“Came all this way for a few cans of beans,” He whispered. “Really?”

“Stop!” You repeated. “Please.”

“But you’re cold,” He uttered as he leaned closer. “You need to warm up… you’re shivering…” His nose touched yours. “Or… shaking?”

“Get--” His lips smothered yours as he shifted his body atop you.

You struggled as he released your wrist and reached down to grab your knee as he forced his legs between yours. He bit your lip as he pulled and his hand clawed at the waist of the loose pants. He pulled until he snapped the string within and you kicked around him.

“What are you doing?” You beat on his shoulders. “Stop! Stop!”

“I don’t talk to people, they don’t talk to me,” He snarled. “I keep to myself. Even that dumb delivery boy of yours knows better.”

“No, no,” You slapped his chest as he sat up suddenly.

He tore the pants down your legs until they were around your knees and pushed them up. The fabric kept you trapped beneath him, legs bent to your chest as he leaned over your once more. He brushed his nose against your cheek and snarled.

“You asked for this, honey,” He sneered. “You just couldn’t leave me alone… The way you smile at me, I can see it.”

“I was just--” You pushed against him. “--doing my job. Please, get off of me.”

He moved against you, his thighs pressed to yours as he felt between you. He pushed his own pants down and you tried to shove him off of you with your legs. You only made yourself dizzy.

The fire flickered against you, setting shadows across his features, his blue eyes caught the flame and glowed sinisterly. His rough finger tickled your cunt as he guided his cock along your folds. You grunted as you fought harder beneath him. He pressed along your entrance and you gasped, a horrified scream as he impaled you in a single thrust.

“Go on and scream.” He said. “No one will hear you. No one but me.” He jerked his hips and you cried out again. “I kinda like it.”

He moved his hips in sharp, short thrusts. He grunted with each, lower and lower, almost like satisfied purrs.

He sat up and hugged your legs to his torso as he rutted faster. He clung to you as if he was desperate, as if he couldn’t get enough. You scratched at the carpet. You whimpered each time he slammed into you, each tilt of his hips harder than the last. The clapping of your flesh mingled with your voices. You closed your eyes, holding back the sobs that threatened.

And then he stopped. Suddenly. He stayed inside of you as his grasp on you loosened. His body quivered and a low growl rose from him. He pulled out of you and pushed your legs aside to that you fell onto your side. Shakily, you pushed yourself, on knees and elbow you tried to crawl away, your pants tangled around your feet.

He grabbed your ankles and dragged you back as you slipped onto your stomach. He climbed over you, pinning your legs between his. He kneaded and pinched your ass, dusky, thick breaths rose from him.

He pressed his thumb between your cheeks and you reached desperately for anything to get away. The edge of the carpet rolled in your grasp and you kicked your feet with a panicked whine. He pressed his thumb against your asshole and you shook your head as he buried your face in your arms. He pushed inside and you let out a shrill cry.

He poked in and out of you, your tight ring burned around his thumb. He withdrew it and forced his index finger in, then added his middle. Your pained groans only seemed to encourage him as he stretched you around a third finger.

He pulled his hand away and bent his arm over your shoulders as he lifted himself over you. He lined himself up with your ass as his hair hung around his head and brushed the back of yours. He took a breath and you held one in. He entered you slowly, letting out a choked grunt as you strained around him.

The tears pricked at your eyes and your arm shot up as you blind grabbed at air.

“Please, please, please. Stop.” You begged. “I can’t--”

He pushed deeper and your voice fizzled. He pulled back and thrust in again. Every time, he went a little further. Soon he was buried in you to his limit and you couldn’t breathe or move. He held himself inside of you and shuddered.

He began to rock and you moaned. Despite the pain, the fire that radiated from your core, it felt good. The more he did, the better it got. The pressure built, unlike any you’d felt before, and you gulped and groaned against the carpet. Shocked by him, by yourself.

He got faster and faster. Louder two as his snarls filled your head. You tensed and then in an instant, your strength drained from you. You came, harder than you had ever in your life. You murmured as your head lolled and he kept going.

He lifted his head and his fingers gripped the back of your neck as he lifted himself over you. He hammered into you from above as you lay prone and helpless beneath him. He exclaimed and you felt a warmth flow into you.

He stopped and fell atop you. His weight held you down, suffocated you. His arm stretched up and he grabbed your hand, twining his fingers with yours.

“Stay as long as you like,” He rasped. “Snow’s not letting up anytme soon.”

#bucky barnes #dark bucky barnes #dark!bucky barnes #bucky barnes x reader #dark bucky barnes x reader #dark!bucky barnes x reader #fic #one shot #lumberjack au #lumberjack #au #mcu #marvel #dark fic #dark!fic #challenge

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musicallisto · 4 years

Text

Ψ — 𝐜𝐨́𝐦𝐨 𝐭𝐞 𝐚𝐭𝐫𝐞𝐯𝐞𝐬 𝐚 𝐯𝐨𝐥𝐯𝐞𝐫; (leo valdez x reader)

@fives-cup-of-coffee requested: Hi can I please get Leo Valdez (Hoo) + number 142? Tysm,bb ! Love your blog💗💗 song: morat - cómo te atreves | 𝄞

summary: In which Leo Valdez was having a good day. That is, of course, until you showed up.

word count: 1.9k author notes: at first I wanted to make it light-hearted & comical as the song would suggest and then it progressively got more serious and angstier and then I just have no idea where it went lol I hate it here. I hope you like this! + stan Morat they’re amazing warnings: there’s like one bad word in Spanish and I hope it’s not too Spaniard bc I looked everywhere for a Mexican equivalent of “cagüendios” asdjdj Mexicans please correct me

𝐋𝐄𝐎 𝐕𝐀𝐋𝐃𝐄𝐙 𝐖𝐎𝐔𝐋𝐃 have had the boldness of saying he was having a good day. No bloodthirsty monster nor megalomaniac Titan had decided to take over the world or rip him to pieces; he hadn’t had to dodge a meteor or plunge into the heart of a volcano; and to top it all off, he had not heard Percy sing once.

No, really, despite the cold, biting wind that froze the February morning, Leo Valdez was having a good day.

That is, of course, until you showed up.

Maybe it was his wind-swept curls blocking his eyes, maybe it was the whirring of Festus’ mechanical breathing under his fingertips, maybe it was the total peace of mind that inhabited him as he whistled to himself, but he had been impervious to his surroundings, surrendered to the memory of his aerial stroll with Calypso earlier in the morning, completely devoted to patching the dragon’s attrition up, so much so that he hadn’t heard you approaching at all. In his defense, he wasn’t expecting your visit after this many years, especially not on a cold morning in the woods of Long Island.

“Leo?”

“Woah, buddy, your clicks are starting to sound more and more like a real human voice. I might have to celebrate your first word soon.”

“Leo Valdez, behind you.”

He whirled around, and stupidly enough, the first thought that went through his mind was disappointment—so Festus wasn’t learning human communication after all, despite his best efforts. But when Leo pushed the hair out of his face and devised for the first time in four years your slightly embarrassed figure, hands buried in your pockets and abashed smile on your face, he couldn’t stop his jaw and heart from dropping.

So the suspect, gravelly grunt he had heard just before was not Festus protesting—duly noted. It was you, impatiently—and rather awkwardly—scratching your throat to catch his attention... You! After four years!

“Y/N?” he called out, and the way your name rolled off his tongue, with incredulity yet ease, was enough to remind you of how familiar his voice had once been.

“In the flesh. Ta-da,” you tentatively exclaimed, unsure about whether you should step toward him.

Leo seemed just as lost and confused as you were, eyeing you without truly processing it. No one, nothing had ever prepared him to face the return of someone he’d loved so dearly after losing them for so long. No prophecy had foretold any of this, no mischievous god had ever sent a cryptic message in a dream or smoke patterns. One day he had more or less started to accept the unshakeable hole you had dug in his heart when you left, and that he had tried to fill up as well as he could with new memories and songs and adventures — and the next you were waltzing back into his life as though he hadn’t spent the better part of four years struggling to forget you?

He took a small step forward without realizing it, but his body language read all but cordiality. A bubble of irritation started to form in the pit of his stomach and throat; he had started to fidget with his adjustable spanner.

“What are you doing here?”

“I’ve been looking for you everywhere.”

Behind him, Festus grated, a low and rumbling sound like still water stirring upon the approach of a storm. Leo swore he heard his heartbeats echoed in the loyal beast’s enormous ribcage.

“What do you want from me, Y/N? Haven’t you done enough?”

Oh, you had done more than enough. When you were friends and he had first fallen for you — you had mended his broken heart, stayed by his side as everyone went on to celebrate life and renewal and he was stuck in the downpour that Calypso’s first departure had wreaked. That was more than enough. When you were just a little more than friends and he had started to learn anew, step by step, what it meant to love, and first and foremost let himself be loved — you had been patient and kind, you had walked hand in hand with him on the road to healing, never pushing him to go further than he could. That was more than enough. When you were definitely more than friends, and he had found himself falling deeper in love with you with each passing day — you had loved him all the same, or so you promised, and made his every day an adventure and a safe embrace like no other. That was more than he ever deserved.

When you had left without warning for some foreign place on the other side of the world, leaving him only a note and a handful of colored glass shards, never to give a sign of life in four years...

That was more than enough.

You had dared to take one step forward, palms outstretched as if you were calming a wild animal. A frenzy of conflicting flames bubbled in Leo’s stomach — you were a stranger now to him, and he was once again happy with Calypso. Then why did he get the overwhelming urge to jump into your arms and rediscover the sweetness of your embrace?

“I’m so sorry, Leo, I never wanted to leave, I truly didn’t, but you have to understand —”

“Understand what? That whatever business you had to attend to was more important than me? That I meant so little to you that you just left me a post-it note with a sad smiley face on it and never came back? You didn’t send a word in four years! I bet you didn’t even think about me on February 29th!”

“Actually I left in April, but —”

“Can you imagine how hard it was for me to get over you? To forget you? No, scratch that—I haven’t forgotten you, no matter how hard I try to convince myself. But I was doing just fine, and you have a whole lotta nerve coming back now that I’m finally happy without you! ¡Pues huevos! ¡Al carajo todo esto!”

And he went on and on in a string of all the curses he’d remembered from when his mother argued on the phone, his cheeks reddening progressively, his breath faltering.

You stayed immobile, just an arms’ length apart from him until he had spewed out everything he’d carried for years. His chest trembled, shuddering at all the dust and waste it had swept under the rug, now displayed in full light before him; and you ached for him, underneath your cool composure, you truly did, just as you had ached yourself when you had left. How could you not? Leo had been light and warmth and fire and a comforting smell of smoke and gasoline and coffee-stained fingertips on your cheek and your neck... and most of all, the heart you would least have wanted to break.

“Leo...”

You murmured his name a few more times, until he looked up at you. Oh, that face, red and weepy and distorted by rage and overwhelm! How you hated it in those moments, like a cheap mask over a Roman statue!

“Leo, I’m so sorry. I know it doesn’t excuse anything, but trust me, I would never have done that if it wasn’t absolutely necessary.”

“What was, Y/N? What was more important than me?”

“I... I can’t tell you, Leo. I would if I could, but — “

“Of course! Even after four years, you’re still so full of secrets!”

“Jupiter told me not to say anything. To anyone.”

Leo’s parted lips, already fuming with more witty remarks, closed shut, and his chocolate eyes widened. The god of gods’ name was always enough to temper even the most boisterous of heroes’ fumes of anger, but not Leo’s erratic heart.

“Jupiter?”

“I got a mission from the gods. That’s why I left. To Rome. But they made me swear I didn’t say anything... not even an excuse.”

Leo swallowed, with difficulty, as if the information was a toxic flame permeating his throat. Before he could even register it, you continued, breathing deeply to steady your breathing:

“I owe you more than an apology... an explanation, at least. If you want to hear it... meet me in the woods at the gate of Camp Half-Blood at sundown. I’d understand if you didn’t come, but... just know that I’ll be waiting for you.”

For a split second, you were traversed by the thought, almost automatic, of leaning over to kiss Leo’s cheek, just like you had done it thousands of times to wish him goodbye; but you cut your impulses fast enough, only staring at his eyes for a few long minutes of dumbfounded silence before you turned on your heels and left.

In a single blink, the wind had caught your silhouette and carried it into the shadows of the trees.

And Leo stood there, colder than he would have admitted, motionless and partly oblivious to Festus’ impatient whirring over his shoulder. His chest rose and fell rapidly, quicker than the leaves rustling in the breeze; it had dried in his eyes too much for any tears to well up, despite the painful pang spreading in his chest. Had it not been for the weight in his ribcage, he could’ve believed you were but a ghost in the forest...

When you had left him without a word nor even a glimpse of a smile, Jason had admonished him to be brave and stronger than whatever misery you had inflicted; to not let any of your little games gnaw at his head and drive him wild. It was how Jason had always dealt with heartbreak and hardship because he was built of cold marble and electric stone; but despite Leo’s best efforts to follow his advice, he was Hephaestus’s son. Neither of them was exactly known for their fine handling of matters of the heart...

He had believed his inalterable strength would come back to him with Calypso. It was an endless ebb and flow between the two of you, each consoling him after the other left and tore a little piece of his heart. She had promised she’d be better — better than you, or than herself the first time around, he didn’t know, but he had believed her all the same.

But maybe what Leo had mistakenly taken for strength when he laughed himself to death with Calypso and captured her entirely with his lips, might have been solely absence. He had always had a knack for following in your steps... just like you had slipped from his embrace without a word, he had disappeared from himself imperceptibly.

Maybe he loved Calypso, truly and sincerely... but not in the way that allowed him to find himself.

Well, to hell with courage, with Jason’s heroic virtue and rectitude. Leo was realizing just then that the reason he clung so desperately to your memory was that he wasn’t ready to let it go just yet, and if it made him a coward, he accepted the fate with open arms.

“Come on, buddy,” Leo exhaled, a little shaky still. “Let’s get you patched up before sundown.”

Maybe it was a good day after all.

Or just a less-than-awful one at the very least.

tagging; @fives-cup-of-coffee @softeninglooks (all my writing) / @lxncelot (Riordanverse)

#mywriting #riordanverse #pjo #hoo #percy jackson #heroes of olympus #leo valdez #pjo imagine #hoo imagine #leo valdez imagine #leo valdez one-shot #leo valdez x reader #fives-cup-of-coffee

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rukakikuchi · 4 years

Text

LOONAverse timeline theory (REDUX!)

So... Yeah. This is something I’ve thought about doing for a while now. It’s been a little over a year now since I started getting into LOONA and analyzing the lore, and my views on the timeline have changed slightly.

Nothing major, but I still wanted to do an updated version of the timeline since now feels like a good point in doing so.

In the year since becoming an Orbit, I’ve used the theories of others as well as my own to get a better understanding of the story of the LOONAverse. This has led me to questioning and critiquing certain theories, and even going back and revising my previous views on the lore, and seeking out other interpretations to come to a new conclusion.

There are some theories from my old timeline analysis which I feel are outdated, since I no longer agree with certain points, and other elements which I want to bring more into question.

For those who may or may not know, I’m on the autism spectrum. And ever since I started listening to their music, LOONA has been one of my most recent special interests. I got hyperfixated on the story that was being presented, and I wanted to analyze all the pieces of the puzzle to get the bigger picture in my head.

With all that being said, let’s go ahead and get this started.

Part 1 - The [+ +] timeline

I think this is the part of the LOONAverse story we can get the clearest view on. This encompasses everything from pre-debut, starting with Heejin, all the way up to Hi High.

It was the first chapter, or the first major story arc of the LOONAverse. We were introduced to the characters of the 12 girls, the worlds they inhabited, their individual conflicts, and an established main goal: finding each other and breaking the loop, an enigmatic force that’s opposing them.

Here’s my breakdown of the timeline of events:

This isn’t a perfect charting of the timeline, since we can assume certain events overlap or run parallel with each other, or take place in a very close amount of time between each other.

Part 2 - The [X X] timeline

Just going to refer to this as the “new” timeline. I believe this is the current timeline we are in in the story, starting from “Butterfly”. This is where Go Won created a butterfly effect by going to Iceland, Haseul’s location, and changed events of the timeline.

For now, let’s assume that everything before love4eva/Let Me In still happens, since that is the point where Go Won changes the timeline. Here is what the new current timeline looks like:

Because of Go Won altering the timeline, the events after love4eva/Let Me In never happen and certain events that occur in the [+ +] timeline have been altered.

ViVi doesn’t meet ⅓ and is still an android, though she presumably had found a way to become human again by “Why Not”.

Yeojin doesn’t get lost in the endless forest.

Olivia no longer resents Yves since she was not abandoned. Her journey to loving herself begins anew through “So What” and “Why Not”.

Odd Eye Circle has yet to reunite. However, we see that Choerry was with Hyunjin in “So What”, and the girls are rediscovering the powers of Odd Eye Circle in “Why Not”.

Part 3 - Updated theories

This is where I want to bring up some previous points I made in my last timeline analysis and how they have changed.

No one killed ViVi

I am no longer sided with the theory that Olivia or any of the members were involved in ViVi's death. Instead, I think she could’ve become an android after an accident. (See my “How did ViVi become an android?” theory.)

Yves does not lure Yeojin into the forest

I think something else might’ve happened that caused Yeojin to wander off, but I have seen a theory that Yeojin was in Eden and the “frog prince” she saw was Yves. I don’t think this was the case, since they have also said that the frog prince represents Yeojin’s “boyfriend” in the LOONAverse, but it’s an interesting perspective nonetheless. (Check out fairypinch’s video on Youtube.)

Side note: The “forest” that Yeojin has been described to be lost in has been referred to as the “endless forest” aka “the Moebius forest”.

I watched a video that was part of a “complete” lyrical analysis of LOONA’s discography (unfortunately, they’ve only done up to Olivia’s solo debut T T but it’s a very interesting watch regardless; the channel is Ross Kpop Stats.) and based on their theory, I think Yeojin could’ve heard a song calling to her and wandered into the forest.

Yves meets Choerry prime, not mirror Choerry

Mirror Choerry cannot come into Choerry prime’s world; however, she can still communicate with Choerry due to her Odd Eye powers connecting her to the mirror world.

I do still think, however, that Mirror Choerry did see Go Won, since she was upside-down and I previously theorized that what we saw in “One & Only” could be a dream. (See my dream interpretation analysis on Go Won’s MV.)

Olivia’s heart was not “swallowed”

I’ve begun to think that Jinsoul’s rap in “Egoist” might not be referring to her herself “swallowing” Olivia’s heart. It might be Jinsoul acting as shadow Olivia (as I’ve theorized Olivia has a split personality; link here). Regardless, there’s still some significance that they chose Jinsoul for the rap.

Also, she doesn’t wish for the other yyxy members’ hearts to merge with her. When we see her bite the apple in that same video, it is showing her finally decide to reject Eden and be free of it completely.

yyxy are not “one” as in they are literally one person; they are “one” as a unit and a part of LOONA as a whole.

No broken cassette tapes

Loominosity debunked the idea that ViVi’s tape case was cracked; it’s just tree branches behind ViVi. (Link here)

No diverging timelines either; The Carol 2.0 is just a cute holiday video with ViVi, Choerry, and Yves!

Everything from Butterfly to Why Not is one timeline

Essentially, Butterfly showed us the catalyst of LOONA’s “butterfly effect” to change the timeline. We see the result of that in “So What”, which has many parallels to “Hi High”, and “Why Not”.

I’m also beginning to theorize that Heejin actually jumped forward in time. She could’ve temporarily escaped the loop (as we see in the #1 teaser) and fell back into “So What”.

This also means that Go Won would retain her memories of the previous timeline, while everyone else has forgotten them.

I’ll admit, a lot of my old ideas felt like reaches since I was still learning about the lore. Now that I’ve spent time becoming more familiar with the group and their music, I think I’ve come to a clearer vision of the story.

So with all of that said, here is my new breakdown of the current storyline...

The LOONAverse started out as stable, but then something caused it to become unstable. This resulted in the universe becoming a Moebius strip, separating three worlds (Earth, Middle Earth, and Eden), and creating a time loop.

We don’t know when or how this happened; all we know is that the loop exists and it is a force that is preventing LOONA from reaching their goal.

At some point, Odd Eye Circle was formed with Kim Lip, Jinsoul, and Hyunjin, and were given the powers of the Odd Eye.

In Eden, Yves finds and eats the forbidden fruit, where she’s given knowledge of her fate and of the loop. She decides to rebel and travels to Earth, where she meets ViVi.

Shortly after, however, ViVi gets in an accident, nearly dies, and is converted to an android, where her memories get messed up and she forgets Yves.

Hyunjin receives a mysterious bracelet from an unknown sender, and tries to search for answers.

Odd Eye Circle finds the cherry that can send them to Earth. Jinsoul leaves one for Choerry, and when she eats it, she and Hyunjin switch places.

Jinsoul decides to go to Earth to look for Hyunjin, and meets Olivia Hye. She gets trapped on Earth and loses her powers and memories.

Heejin, a normal girl in Paris, is bored of her repetitive daily routine and wishes for her life to be filled with color. In search of some excitement, she decides to go travelling.

Two of Yves’ friends in Eden, Chuu and Go Won, decide to reject Eden and join in her plans to escape to Earth. They meet Kim Lip, who was searching for Jinsoul, and it’s revealed Go Won made the bracelet that was sent to Hyunjin.

Now, Hyunjin lives in Tokyo, with no memory of the Middle Earth or Odd Eye Circle. She meets Heejin and the two become friends. They both befriend Haseul and Yeojin, who are like sisters. ViVi meets Jinsoul in Hong Kong.

During Christmas time, Haseul finds Chuu when she first fell from Eden and wakes her up.

Haseul then has a dream where she finds and kills her doppelganger.

Yves, Chuu, and Go Won escape from Eden, leaving behind Olivia Hye, who feels resentment and anger for being abandoned.

ViVi meets Heejin, Hyunjin, and Haseul, and eventually becomes human. However, they learn Yeojin has wandered off into an “endless forest” and went missing, so they cast a spell of love to find her.

Olivia Hye falls to Earth, and learns to love herself and let go of her anger. She then meets Heejin after she went into the endless forest and learned about the loop. She convinces Olivia to join the others on Earth, and eats the forbidden fruit to be free of Eden.

Jinsoul regains her powers and memories, and Kim Lip senses Choerry and pursues her. They revitalize their powers during an eclipse and learn of the loop.

Kim Lip helps Choerry find the mirrors where she awakens her powers, connects with the mirror world through her reflection (her shadow/mirror world counterpart), and learns of the loop. They reunite with Jinsoul to merge their moons and complete the Odd Eye Circle.

Choerry meets Yves when she first fell from Eden and helps her escape by meeting Go Won in her dreams and leaving the roses for them in the forest.

After all the girls gather together on Earth, they try to break free of the loop, but fail as the time loop resets.

In order to change the events of the timeline and break the loop, Go Won stays behind in Eden while Olivia takes her place. She then goes to the dreamworld/mirror world to stop Haseul from killing her doppelganger and changing her fate.

Due to Go Won’s butterfly effect, the timeline begins to change. Heejin temporarily breaks out of the loop before falling back in and chaos ensues. The girls start a rebellion in their efforts to break free. They see the moon burn and meteors fall to Earth.

After the chaos, the Odd Eye Circle members start to regain their powers, and the group holds a midnight festival in celebration for the rise of a new moon.

...

And there you have it! Like I said, this may not be perfect, there are definitely parts of the story I want to re-analyze, and I’m sure whenever LOONA make their next comeback, it’s going to lead to some very interesting developments.

But I also wanted to do this since some of my theories have changed. The LOONAverse is so fascinating because it can lend itself to so many different theories and viewpoints, that it even challenges the viewer’s own thoughts on the story.

I hope you guys found this interesting. Feel free to share your own thoughts and opinions as well! Have a good day and, as always...

Stan LOONA! 🌙✨

#LOONA #LOONAverse #Heejin #Hyunjin #Haseul #Yeojin #ViVi #Kim Lip #Jinsoul #Choerry #Yves #Chuu #Go Won #Olivia Hye #KPop #Music #Theory #Analysis

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homogrimoire-archive · 3 years

Text

Lu Vresha Eend Howyethnsch

[Excerpt] Long after the lives of the lovers had past, the kingdom fell to ruin, stuck by a great disaster out of anyone's control. Another kingdom would rise, and fall, in its place, just as others had in the past. It would face problems like its predecessors once did, and would be given hope by the few glorious souls that rallied the masses and dared to fight for their values. Yes, the kingdom they fought for would fall too. Yes their hardship would essentially equate to nothing in the ultimate infinity of the universe. But, in their short existences, they tried and did their best to make a difference in their time. They made a difference to those around them. They made a difference in the course of history They made a difference in each other’s lives. And in their end, they had love. What other end could be more joyous than to die in love?

[Ana and Jack rejoin Overwatch. Jack finds himself becoming closer and closer to Reinhardt, who had been pining for years.]

AO3 Link

Long ago, there existed a kingdom in a forest. It was breathing the breaths of life in it's newfound status and growth. It was prosperous, stable. At some point in its history, it began a cruel conquest, fueled by the memories of it's suffering from a recent war. It feared that suffering, and sought to ensure that it would never suffer again.

Reinhard stood at the resting place of his master. He remembers his sacrifice. An honorable death. A death that perhaps could have been avoided if he wasn't so cocky and such a honor hungry glutton. That bit of guilt always resided in him. This is part of the reason he fulfilled his master's last duty. It was the least he could do.

It is bittersweet, but his master's unfortunate death allowed him to become a better person. It was this passed down, sacred duty given to him from his felled master that led to him experiencing and learning so much. It allowed him to meet many great people who he would never forget. It was for the gift of those memories that he would always honor his duty and answer the call. He would keep the memory of his master alive. He would not let it be forgotten.

The scans were completed a while ago, so all that was left to do was pay his respects. He left the medallion entrusted to him all those years ago on the armrest. A piece of those memories for his old friend to hold onto, memories that perhaps could have been his.

Long ago, there existed a forest kingdom. It was ruled by a king favored by many. He brought forth a new era. He was spurred by the memories of old stories he heard in his youth, among them, stories of a grand and prosperous kingdom. He desired to bring those stories to life as much as he could, and he did.

Jack stared at the photo, an old thing that managed to withstand the passage of time and preserve distant memories. So many memories, all filled with so many emotions, many of them never to be felt again, forever just a memory. Yet, it was the memories incited by that photo that spurned him in a seemingly distant past. Even in the present, they still provoked him to fight on.

Ana understood this well, perhaps even more so. Her husband, her daughter, available to her only in memories. Yet, they compelled her to continue the fight more than anything. She never needed to ask why he stared at it in silence for so long, caressing the worn edges. She knew that despite wanting more, they were still content enough with their current lives. He had kept tabs on Vincent, and learned that moved on, and was living a good happy life. She had kept tabs on Fareeha and Sam, and saw that they had come to do just fine.

All was well in the end. The ghosts who were kept alive by memories were accepting of their afterlife in the physical realm. That was, until their shared ghost had come back to life to haunt them. A recall was issued for Overwatch, and suddenly, there was an opportunity to face the present and future, to no longer be bound by the past. At least, that’s how Ana saw it. She wanted to see her daughter, even if she was doing what she had never hoped the girl would do. But, what child always listens to their parents?

She expressed her desire to Jack, just to learn that the stubborn fool desired differently. She honestly expected as much. Their time as ghosts were over. The Shrike and Soldier: 76 had to cease their existence, even if just for a moment, so that Ana Amari and Jack Morrison could face the present: the reality where their dreams were long gone, replaced by the truth, cold and hard it may be at first. Cold and hard it may even always be, but it is the truth.

She decided that she would leave, with or without him. She wanted to face reality so that she could have a decent future, what would remain of it, at least. She wasn’t getting any younger, and she knew it. Still, she tried to convince him one last time. She was his friend, and only wanted the best for him, be it a whack to the back of his head, or a hug.

“Overwatch was our home, Jack. It still is. It is our family. Are you really going to abandon it now that you have this second chance?” she questioned.

“You know as well as I do it was a lot more than just that.” he replied. There was Blackwatch, for starters. And Overwatch was an international organization with the power to help and hinder many, for better or worse. Eventually, it toppled under the weight it carried. When it fell, it was evident it was something the world no longer needed. Talon and its adversaries had bested the organization as well, proving to Jack that it could not be dealt with in the light. Yet…

“Even so, we have a chance to live, to help others learn from the mistakes we made. Will you even abandon that duty just so you can mope all day and beat someone up now and then? The dead can only affect the living so much, Jack. There will come a day when you will truly die. Will you be content to die as someone forgotten, content to die a miserable, delusional old man? You know when I’ll be leaving. You’re welcome to stay here as long as you like, and know that you’ll be missed, again.”

With that, she left him to think. He had been alone for so long, it hardly seemed to matter anymore. But, she had a point. Was he really alright with dying alone. In the crisis, he had his fellow soldiers to live and die with. He was fortunate enough to be among the survivors. In Overwatch, he did not enter the battlefield much anymore. It was indeed lonely at the top, being pulled away from his friends, family, and love. For what? He wasn’t sure anymore. Even so, he was never truly alone. Gabe and Ana were still with him, more often for work related reasons than not, but still. Vincent, the understanding man he was, still loved him despite how often he was away. Jack loved him too, still did, in a way different than before, but it was love all the same.

He considered that she was perhaps right, calling him miserable and delusional. His time as a ghost among mortals was miserable. Even as Strike Commander, working seemingly endless hours, he was able to find moments of repose. A calm night with Vincent, a huge dinner with Ana and Gabe and their families, a simple thank-you letter handed to him from a promising trainee. There was none of that as a ghost.

He missed that, more than he wanted to admit. Did he really think this was how he wanted to live? Even if he wouldn't have any of that if he returned to the living, there were other things life had to offer. He feared he could lose even that too. But, he had to try, didn’t he? That was what he had always done. There was no reason to stop now, especially not in the name of fear. What kind of soldier would he be otherwise? A dead one, that’s what.

The kingdom went across the lands, conquering and destroying any who opposed it. Soon, their conquest had ended. They gained a vast amount of land, inhabited by an array of peoples. These people were now people of the kingdom, and the people of the kingdom did not suffer. The people of the forest forgot this.

Reinhardt and Brigitte were the first, aside from Lena, to respond to the call. After their short flight, they were at their new base, the base of the new Overwatch. Reinhardt had been there at Gibraltar before, though not often. He remembered it as mostly uneventful, but great for his tan. There, he and Brigitte met up with Winston and Lena. By all definitions, this was the gorilla’s home, and a second home to Lena. It was great to see some familiar faces. Being the only ones to have currently “officially” rejoined Overwatch, Winston and Lena were excited to give them a tour of the new base of operations. It was a work in progress, one knight and his squire would be happy to help complete.

That night, over dinner, they discussed who they thought would answer the call and show up. Winston noted that Angela and Genji were likely candidates, and Mei was en route after a trek through the Antarctic and traveling across the world. They also imagined Torbjorn would be joining, and Ana’s daughter if she caught wind of the revival. Aside from them, it was anyone’s bet as to who would answer the call. It may not be a lot of people, but it was a start, and that was all they would need. Their first mission was already set for a few months time, leaving plenty of time for people to answer, and to work on the base.

Torbjorn was the next to arrive, to the great joy of Brig and Rein. His engineering expertise was invaluable. After that, came Mei. Only Torbjorn and Winston knew her beforehand. Tracer, Brig, and Rein had found her very agreeable, very clearly a wonderful woman who would fit right in. She became incorporated into their friend group in no time. After her, to everyone’s surprise, was Echo, renowned creation of Mina Liao and overall a great companion.

Before they knew it, their first mission came and went, a stunning success. It was no surprise that Fareeha showed up at their doorstep soon after. Rein remembered her very well. She was an adorable little one who loved heroism, and grew into a fine,strong woman. He would play with her with Mcree every now and then.

While he was glad she was among them, fulfilling her lifelong dream, he could not help but feel that he was a bit alone. Among brilliant minds and an advanced AI, he stood out. Fareeha was similar to him, just a simple soldier, but much younger than him, so not as relatable. He was very close to Torbjorn and Brig as well, but he still could not help but feel that something was missing. He realized what it was when Torbjorn had bought it up one night, when it was just them sharing a few drinks. Or rather, Torb had directly said what it was.

Ana, Gabriel, Jack. Things were just not the same without them. Even as things got rough towards the end, they were still family. As Torb had put it, they were as core to Overwatch as “a nano-thermal heat sink was to a intra-dynamic processor module.” Reinhardt could only assume the man was correct. His knowledge of technology and such was minimal, just enough to keep up his armor and hammer by himself. Even then, he trusted Brig to take care of it better than himself. He was just a soldier after all. A Crusader, yes, but a simple soldier all the same. He was only taught what was necessary for battle, same as his long dead companions.

Yet, they still stood out among even the best. Rein supposed he was much the same though. By all means, he was an accomplished man. He could have retired and lived the rest of his life as a distinguished soldier during the Omnic Crisis and honorably discharged member of Overwatch. No. He decided to continue fighting on, to eventually die a warrior’s death, as Balderich had, as Jack, Ana, and Gabriel had. He imagined they would have done the same, except for maybe Ana. In all fairness, she did not have super soldier juice in her, and had a family. Rein certainly wouldn't have blamed her.

That night, as he lay in his bed, he remembered back to the days and nights they all shared together. The revelry of a victory, the woe of loss, the small moments that are difficult to remember, but the feelings they contain never forgotten. Eventually, his mind wandered to the first time he met them, there in Gibraltar.

It was a great honor to be working with them to aid in the creation of a better world for all. They all responded accordingly, in their own way of course. It was when Jack greeted him did Reinhardt swear he fell in love. He did not realize it at first, but he would realize it soon enough. He knew it was a bad idea to fall for your superior, but he did nonetheless. There was something about his smile and the way he spoke.

Hearing that the man had a boyfriend both gave him hope, and crushed him a little. On one hand, he wouldn't be pining after a straight guy, on the other, Jack was taken. Rein might wield a smashing hammer, but he was no homewrecker. Over the years, he would only fall for the Strike Commander more and more.

Yet, for all his bravery, he never told another soul. It is the simple things that time takes away: small yet warm memories, the first time he ever kissed another some time while a soldier, the voice of a friend from his youth. However, his love for Jack was not simple. Thus, it persisted.

The king, fueled by the memories of stories, forgot he resided in the present, in reality. His enemies knew where they resided. By the time he realized he could not attain the greatness he desired, he was fine. He had learned how to deal with reality, and did his best to bring what he could of those stories into reality. It was not easy, but with the memories of his people, he did what he could, and created new memories in the process.

When Jack and Ana had arrived at the Watchpoint, it was well on its way to sliding into the ocean. Smoke bellowed in places as agents, many of them familiar faces, fought off what were obviously Talon forces. Ana rolled her eye, always sure the organization would have collapsed without her. It did fall after she was “killed,” so she might have been onto something.

Without hesitation, they joined the fray as unknown, masked combatants, proving who they sided with very quickly. They eventually found themselves split from each other, nothing concerning in the slightest. Ana found herself working alongside her daughter, the memorable cowboy, and an omnic she recognized as reminiscent of an OR-15 model. She made sure to keep her children healthy in between getting acquainted with the omnic and sleeping any fools who dared get close.

Meanwhile, Jack found himself fighting alongside the Crusader, an ancient bastion unit, and one very talented, very short, engineer. The giant crusader tried to make small talk with him, but Jack repeatedly responded with a noncommittal grunt or with something basic and unrevealing. Despite this, the German remained as friendly as ever, just as Jack had remembered. He had found the man to be loud, but never really minded so long as he wasn’t having a bad day. If it was one of those days, which were frequent towards the end, he would kindly lower his voice, which honestly wasn’t particularly quiet. Regardless, it was a greatly appreciated gesture when he felt so underappreciated himself.

Eventually, the battle reached its conclusion. Talon robots lay defeated, their remains would later reveal useful information. A few enemy ships were making their escape, Tracer chasing after them in hopes of being able to land a tracker on at least one of them. And to top it all off, Widowmaker had been captured. However, the one known as the Reaper had escaped, as they would learn in a hastily thrown together meeting with some refreshments. It was then that The Shrike and Soldier: 76 spoke up.

“The Reaper is a strong foe, though a dumb one.” the Shrike spoke. “Dumb fool…”

“We also know him as Gabriel Reyes, former head of Blackwatch.” 76 revealed. He was immediately bombarded with questions of how he could say such a thing without any evidence. Not only that, Gabriel had been long dead after all.

“You’d be surprised at how hard it is to kill an old soldier.” she responded, taking off her mask to reveal her face. Of course, her daughter was the first to recognize her.

“… Mom?” Fareeha asked. “You’re… alive.” Her mother nodded her head. A wide variety of emotions covered Fareeha’s face as she stormed out the room. Ana sighed.

“Well, if you’ll excuse me, I have to deal with this. I’m sure you all understand.” she said with the nonchalant wave of a hand as she went after her daughter. A moment of silence followed, all eyes eventually shifting to the masked man who arrived with her.

“You… I know who you are then! You’re Jack!” Reinhardt shouted, pointing a large finger at the man.

“…”

“Ahh! Your silence isn’t hiding anything old friend!” he bellowed, moving a few steps to give him a heavy pat on the back, making the smaller man slightly off balanced for a moment. “It is great to have you back.” he said more softly with a warm smile. Somehow, it made Jack soften up a little.

“It…” he began, taking off his mask before continuing. “It’s nice to see you too Reinhardt.”

It was not until they saw their memories played out by the people they conquered, who were now people of the kingdom, that they remembered this. The conquered lands were given an option, they could receive reparations and sever their ties to the kingdom, or receive one half of the reparations and join the forest kingdom in a coalition. They would form a single kingdom, each land in the kingdom equal in power. Many refused. They survived just fine. Those that joined experienced the mixing and melding of their memories that, as a result, birthed new memories reminiscent of their old ones

In the following months, things began to return to normal. The base was quickly rebuilt thanks to the help of friends around the world. More recruits, of faces old and new, had joined as well. Sojourn, Genji and the cyborg's brother were now a part of Overwatch. Other new faces included a friend of Winston’s from the moon, a freedom fighter who utilized the power of music and sonic technology, and a combat medic who was once a part of Talon. Meanwhile, Angela was making progress towards reverse engineering the brainwashing process so she could help Amile.

Ana had slowly been warming up to Fareeha, who was rightfully angry at her mother for deciding to leave. It saddened Ana, but was sure things would be alright in time. In the meantime, Overwatch provided her with a decent amount of work, be it missions, training, or catching up. It was decidedly better than being a ghost, but Hawai'i seemed much more tempting at times. However, she did find much joy in sharing what she had learned over the years to the younger ones, and had definitely missed gossiping at a base over tea. Vishkar representative Satya and former yakuza prince Hanzo proved to be good company in such a pastime.

Jack, on the other hand, was well in his element. He was no longer the Strike Commander, back to being a regular old soldier. Though, his insight from his past experience proved valuable of course. He soon found himself being happier with a smile on his face more often than not. He had Reinhardt to frequently thank for that. They seemed to bond over being two stubborn old soldiers. It was something Jack wished he had the time for back then, but, he had the present to do that now.

Rein was funnier than he remembered. There was also something about him that made Jack want to spend more time with the Crusader. Perhaps it was his hearty laughs that captured the attention of all, or the frequent nights they would spend together sharing a friendly drink, talking about the good and bad of their pasts, ultimately finding comfort in each other through the virtue that they weren’t so alone anymore. Perhaps it was because the man was an inspiration, a glorious sight to those who wished for hope. Jack had been one such person for a long time.

It was during these times did the great king reign. During all this, he was aided by many people who cared for him dearly. His mission of dreams and reality left little room for love in his life, even refusing beneficial marriages as he did not want to be an absent husband. Yet, after many years, he came to realize that there was in fact someone he loved: a knight of great renown who hailed from a conquered kingdom that joined the coalition. However, the king did not confess his love. It was only when the knight lay near death did he reveal his feelings. Perhaps it was that admission that spurned the knight to fight off death. Perhaps he would have lived regardless. What is known is that they kept their taboo love a secret.

This mission was supposed to be an easy one. Both soldiers should have known better than to expect things to be easy, but they were so confident in their teammates, and each other. They had been separated from the group, fighting their way to the drop point to escape. Comms went down after the order was issued to retreat and the coordinates were given. Hacked. Hopefully, the ship they were using to escape wouldn't be hacked.

The Talon machines were typically weak things, but plentiful. The sheer volume of them was what made things difficult. Jack could shoot all day, Reinhardt would hold his shield for as long as it could, and turn machines to scrap when it came to it. It was when his shield was down did his friend get hurt. A bullet to the chest, another to the leg with lots of blood flowing from it. He immediately rushed to the man, scooping him up, holding him close as he ignored the enemies and charged for the escape point. Rein didn’t know if he himself would make it.

“You know… you’re a good man, Rein.”

“Save your breath. I’ll get you to the doctors soon.” he assured.

“Heh. I think… this is fate. A warrior’s death… Honorable, and all that.”

Reinhardt remained silent. A warrior’s death was indeed honorable, but also sad, so very sad. But, at least Jack’s would not be lonely. No. There was no room for such thoughts. He steeled his resolve.

“No. You won’t be dying today! I love you too much to let you die like this!” he announced. I don’t want to lose you!

Just then, the machines froze, as if by command, their glows shifting from red to purple. Rein did not care why. If they were down, they were down. That’s all that mattered. He eventually arrived at the ship, Baptiste and Angela already there. Quickly, they shifted their attention to Jack. Fareeha was already patched up, leaving her to check Rein for any major wounds, thankfully none. His armor had served its purpose. Winston had suffered only minor injuries, and could patch himself up.

Rein could only pray and watch as the two doctors worked their gruesome yet incredible magic. Hearing that he would need a blood transfusion was concerning, but he had faith in the doctors, and hope. He could not bear the alternatives. He did not want to have to actually bury his friend again so soon like this.

It was fortunate that he and Jack shared the same blood type. He did not hesitate to offer his blood. He would never hesitate to sacrifice his blood for those he loved and wished to protect. All he could do was somberly wait, his eyes fixated on the man pale as a ghost.

They arrived back at the base where he was given more thorough treatment. Rein hated that he had to be pulled away from his fellow soldier, but he needed to be examined too, and they couldn’t risk his blood levels getting too low. They had all they needed at the base. All he could do was wait once more.

When he returned to Jack, he was still asleep on the bed in the medical ward. That night, he stood by Jack’s side, falling asleep in a chair was just barely a bit too small. He had the oddest dream that night, one of an ancient king and his lover, a knight.

When he awoke, Jack was still asleep, machines methodically beeping and droning quietly. But, Jack was still alive, and some color had returned to his face. Throughout the day, many came to visit, Brigitte and Torbjorn bringing breakfast, Ana, Winston and Lena drinking lunch, and Fareeha and Mcree bringing dinner. They all recalled old memories and stories, wishing for the best when they left.

It was a few hours after Fareeha and Mcree had left when Rein noticed that he began to stir. He shouted for one of the medics as he quickly returned to focus on Jack. Baptiste was the one to show up.

“What…”, Jack groaned, “Where... am I?”

“Safe and sound, that’s where. You took some pretty nasty hits back there. Let’s see…” the combat medic said as he pulled up the patient notes. “Major blood loss, damage to a major artery, punctured lung. Yup. Pretty nasty. Thanks to our friend here, you’ll live. Hmm, and thanks to some super soldier serum, apparently.” he noted. “Well, you should be good as new by the morning. Rest until then, and take it easy after. We’ll go over it tomorrow.”

“Right. Thanks doc.” he said as Bap began to walk away.

“Finally!” he gasped. “Someone thanked me! You’re welcome. Oh, and maybe get some actual food in you. Holler if you need anything, One of us will answer.” he finished with a wave goodbye.

Once the doctor left the vicinity, Rein practically jumped to pull Jack into a killer hug.

“Ah, thank goodness you will be well!” he rejoiced.

“Ack! They just fixed me!” he shouted.

“Right, sorry.” he sheepishly apologized. Jack let out a light huff.

“It’s alright. It’s nice to see you though.” he said with a friendly slap to the tank’s back. “So, uh, thanks. For helping me out back there.”

“Bah. Think nothing of it. It is what comrades do for one another. But, you are welcome.”

When he left Jack to get him some food, which ended up being warmed up leftover burgers and fries from the night before, Rein got to thinking. He wondered how much Jack remembered. Did he remember getting wounded? The declarations of love? The robots being hacked? How he held him tightly in his arms? Or even what happened in the ship? Rein hoped that he at least remembered the declaration of love. He didn’t think he'd ever get the courage to do it again, even after knowing Jack had moved on from Vincent.

When he came back, he noticed that Jack seemed lost in thought. But, he seemed to snap out of it once he noticed Reinhardt, thanking him for the food.

“It seemed as if there was something on your mind.” he said.

“Yeah… I need your opinion on something.” Jack requested. Rein was eager to give it. “I’ve been thinking, maybe I am getting a bit too old for this.”

“You know, I had been thinking of retirement as well.”

“You have?” Jack asked, shocked. Rein gave a lighthearted laugh.

“Yes, I have. A warrior’s death is honorable, but it would be missing something I want.” he replied.

“It’s love, isn’t it?” Jack questioned. So he did remember. Rein sheepishly turned away.

“Yes. It is love.”

“I think… I love you too, Reinhardt. Sorry, if I read things wrong, I─”

“No! You didn’t!” Rein quickly responded. Jack laughed, his bright smile the apple of Reinhardt’s eye.

“I’m glad then. I’d be honored to spend the rest of my life with you, if… that’s alright with you.”

“There would be no greater honor, than to spend the rest of my life with the man I love.” he said, placing his hand gently on top of Jack’s. They softly smiled at each other, gazing warmly at the man they loved.

Long after the lives of the lovers had passed, the kingdom fell to ruin, stuck by a great disaster out of anyone's control. Another kingdom would rise, and fall, in its place, just as others had in the past. It would face problems like its predecessors once did, and would be given hope by the few glorious souls that rallied the masses and dared to fight for their values. Yes, the kingdom they fought for would fall too. Yes their hardship would essentially equate to nothing in the ultimate infinity of the universe. But, in their short existences, they tried and did their best to make a difference in their time. They made a difference to those around them. They made a difference in the course of history. They made a difference in each other’s lives. And in their end, they had love. What other end could be more joyous than to die in love?

The honorable beings, who time and time again would arise to help their world, were fueled by the memories of others. And in turn, they fueled the memories of others as well. In a never ending cycle of despair. But, this is where hope and love are reborn, time, and time, again.

#reinhardt76 #soldier 76 #reinhardt wilhelm #jack morrison #overdads #rein76 #reinhardt overwatch #overwatch #I realized I never posted this on here #so here it is #I should write more rein 76 someday #it is very underrated #then again I just like rarepairs #also the title doesn't have any real meaning

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captain-emmajones · 4 years

Note

Prompt - Dark ones Emma and Hook showing off their magic abilities to each other (some fluff before it all went to hell)

My Lover Resembles the Moon

So anon, I added a bit (a lot) of smut to your fluff, but I hope you will still like this :’))

Missing scene 5x10: Emma has found Dark Hook, had reassured him they would get rid of the darkness together by showing him their love is strong enough to muffle the voices. What happened between this scene and the one where he learns Emma has been keeping Excalibur to herself? (You know the one that opens on them kissing and looking very satisfied before it all goes to hell). Basically sex in the forest for our two dark ones, quite eager to show each other their little magic tricks.

3000 words - Smut/Fluff - Ao3

“If the moon smiled, she would resemble you. You leave the same impression of something beautiful, but annihilating”

— Sylvia Plath.

“Come on, Hook. Let’s take a few minutes to ourselves – then we’ll join the others and defeat the darkness once and for all” Emma’s soft voice reached his ear as she gently grabbed his hand.

They were still alone, just the two of them among the trees of this endless forest in which the fresh air was a welcoming delight.

Her skin, their skin, was cold under his touch, and it was a bitter reminder that they weren’t properly alive.

However, when she was holding his hand, darkness wasn’t all that scary anymore and he could even begin to imagine getting used to it.

(For him, darkness was a very childish, very bright anger deep within his heart, an anger ready to jump and roar at the slightest noise.)

As she guided him to lie down on the soft grass, Killian noticed Emma’s skin was of a very pale white under the moonlight. Tiny sparkles shone on her face – nothing like the crocodile’s scales – and he wondered by which enchantment she still looked like an angel when she was inhabited by the deepest darkness.

As he settled his head above his free arm – they were still holding hands – and took in the view of a full moon in a sky full of stars, he felt no exhaustion in his bones, just a very peaceful humming in his soul that had replaced Rumpelstiltskin’s voice.

He could hear fireflies fly by them, could see them blink in the dark.

From the corner of his eyes, he caught a glimpse of Emma undoing her hair, and he shifted to see long, white curls fall around her face. She was a sight for sore eyes, with this halo of light that surrounded her entire body.

“You are still so beautiful, Swan,” The shy whisper of admiration escaped his mouth.

“Still?” A small chuckle shook her shoulders as she smiled, amused. “Did you expect me to turn completely crocodile on you?” Her tone was playful but very soft, and he gripped her cold fingers tighter.

It was enough, to feel her next to him. (Much like she had told him his simple presence was enough to distract her from the voices in her head, back in the castle.)

However, he did feel it, the death in him, he did feel it because suddenly he wasn’t tired or cold anymore, and the only thing he could feel was his love for Emma.

She was a tether to reality, to goodness, to hope. He couldn’t believe he had been furious at her a few minutes ago. He had felt betrayed by his love. It had been so easy to listen to the voices in his head and let wrath take him over.

He gazed at her as she rested silently next to him, a content smile on her lips.

She deserved better than this. (Than him.)

“Killian?” she suddenly called him. She did not turn her face towards him, her eyes remained fixed on the moon, and he realized he had been staring and had forgotten to answer her.

“Emma?” he echoed back. He was mesmerized by her beauty.

He saw her lips part in a smile. “You forgot to answer me.”

“You’re glowing, Swan,” was all he managed to exhale. It made her chuckle.

Green eyes find his as she shifted towards him, one hand cupping her cheek, and his heart missed a beat. “To be fair, you are rather dashing too, as you would say.”

A laughter shook his shoulders, and he completely forgot about the darkness. There was nothing else in his mind but Emma and the hand he felt strong in his, Emma and the halo of goodness surrounding her face, Emma who loved him and whom he would love until his dying breath.

“You know,” her voice broke the silence once again, “when I was eight, my foster family had a house near a forest.” She paused, and he heard the emotion in her voice, the little tremor of pain. “The other kids and I, we went to catch fireflies.”

His heart sank. He could imagine her tiny hands wrapped around the small insect, her eyes gazing at it with wonder. “I thought they were fairies” she continued on, smiling widely. “Don’t think I was that wrong, now.” And she tried laughing a bit, and Hook’s heart ached for his very fierce lover.

Leaning on his left arm, he bended towards her. She watched him, her green eyes sparkling with the reflection of the stars. He stared at her for a few seconds more, his face just above hers, and it seemed his love had become a soft ocean inside his chest.

“I love you, Swan,” he told her again. He did not give her the time to answer. Instead, he pressed his open mouth on hers, drinking her breath.

The coldness of her lips and her skin almost made him stop, moved something unpleasing inside of him, but then she was kissing him back with passion and he forgot all about it.

(It was easy to forget the darkness when she was with him, easy to replace it with a lot of love and attention, and perhaps there was no getting rid of it but this way.)

His hand found her hair, found them silky and soft, as his tongue softly played with hers. Her fingers had settled into his hair, brushed the skin of his neck, and then he let go.

He retreated just enough to see her eyes, and she was smiling, of a very content smile. He felt a very strong emotion wash over him. As long as they were together, darkness was nothing to fear.

“Can I show you a little trick?” he suddenly asked, his fingers brushing her cheek as an odd excitation tickled his heart. She smiled into his touch.

“Go ahead, Hook.”

He snapped his fingers, and a firefly appeared on her knuckles. Its tiny, round body sat on the tip of her finger and its small wings reflected the stars, and she looked at it with a lot of caution and care.

It made her smile. “Your magic is red,” she noticed out loud.

He grinned. “Aye, does that surprise you?”

She shook her head, and the firefly flew away. “No, seems very fitting for you.”

He raised an eyebrow, intrigued. It was true that Swan’s magic was a pure light, even as she was the Dark One. “And why is that?”

She bit her lower lip, and he waited for her to answer. “You are a passionate individual,” she eventually uttered, one finger tracing the shape of his open lips.

Somehow those few words seemed to lit a very dangerous flame in his heart. The woman of his life was lying beneath him, in an empty forest, and their only companions were the crickets singing around them.

“Am I?” he tempted, and suddenly the air became incredibly warm.

“Oh yeah.” He held his breath at her quivering words, gazing intensely at her. He could have sworn they were both glowing with desire at that point.

She was the one who lifted her face and kissed him again. This kiss was less gentle than the previous one. It was a wet, trembling kiss that left them both panting by the end of it.

When they finally parted, he imagined there would have been pearls of sweat on his forehead – had he been properly alive. As for the woman lying on her back, her cheeks would have probably been the usual red they displayed when they engaged in such activities in the intimacy of his quarters. (Or for that matter, their room in Arthur’s castle lately.)

“You want to see something impressive?” she suddenly asked him, with this breathless tone that sent shivers down his spine.

“Aye, Swan,” he answered and he licked his lips in anticipation.

One snap of her fingers and suddenly she was naked under the moonlight, and his fingers were touching her skin and his eyes were all over her, and he wasn’t breathing anymore.

He swallowed, felt himself get hard under his leather pants. “That is a very interesting trick indeed,” he whispered, one finger tracing the side of her hip with thorough care, “allow me to modestly imitate you.”

Another snap and he was naked as well.

The forest suddenly seemed to be seriously lacking oxygen, as they both stared at each other. He was urged by the desire to mark each spot of the glowing skin he could see, wanted to kiss her and love her for the rest of his life.

He saw her swallow beneath him, and he realized his cock was strong and conquering against her thighs.

“Very well, Hook,” she whispered, “I see the student has outwitted the master.”

He grinned and then he was melting on her lips, kissing her passionately. She moaned in his mouth, and he shifted to settle between her legs. His hand found her core and he discovered her as wet as he was hard against her skin.

“Excited, are we, Swan?” he whispered against her lips, before beginning to kiss her milky neck.

She buried her hands in his hand while her legs wrapped themselves around his torso. And she was lazily pressing her wet core against his erection, and it was soon a struggle to continue on simply kissing her skin.

“Well, that is very presumptuous of you to say, Captain,” she uttered, and he could imagine the grin on her face.

“Indeed, Swan,” and he left a wet, open mouth, kiss between her breasts that sent shivers in her body.

He desperately wanted to take her, right now, especially when she was rubbing herself like this against his bare skin, and he could only think about what it would feel like to be inside of her, in her heat.

He summoned his inner strength to take his sweet time to kiss her whole body. She soon became impatient, and grabbed his cock to guide him inside of her but he stopped her – pining her hand above her head.

“Bad form, Swan,” he grinned, kissed her cheek, while she angrily rubbed harder against him. “Very bad form,” and he was stepping away to look at her in the eye.

He saw the delicious fury in her eyes, and before he knew it he was suddenly under her. Magic.

“I’ll show you bad form,” she affirmed, now on top of him, and if they had been alive her hair would have stuck to her forehead.

Instead, it hurtled down her back with great beauty. She pressed herself entirely against him to kiss him once again, and he wrapped his arm tightly around her.

She was driving him crazy. Letting his lips go, she took it upon herself to paint his skin with her kisses, starting with his neck. She pressed kisses all along his chest, down his stomach, and he realized he had been shutting his eyes when he opened them and found her gazing straight at him, just above his cock.

“See anything you like, Captain?” she asked him, her breath tickling his sensitive skin.

He held his breath, fisted his hands to hold back the tension inhabiting his body.

“Aye, very much so.”

She smiled again, of that impish, dangerous grin, and he was completely hers.

“Good,” she whispered and then her mouth was over his cock. He clung to the blades of grass under them, breath stuck in his throat.

Her hands had gently grabbed the base of his penis, while she pressed kisses along his length. Although his eyes were close, he could see stars.

“Swan,” he moaned, and she was taking him completely into her mouth, and his toes were curling.

She was ridiculously good at this. It wasn’t fair.

As she sucked, and kissed, and sucked some more, he felt himself get dangerously close to coming.

“Let me go” The small, urgent whisper echoed in the night. Wen she looked up, he seized the opportunity to grab her. “Sorry Swan, but we want this fun to last longer,” and with a swing of his hips, he was on top of her again.

“Very well, Captain,” she chuckled, and her tone gave away her own anticipation, “now if you please could take what is yours…”

“As you wish, Swan…”

She guided him to her entrance while he rested his forearms on the fresh grass. In one long, a bit too abrupt stroke, he was inside of her, and he did not remember her to feel this good.

“Bloody hell,” he whimpered, staying still for a few seconds to allow her to adjust to him.

“Right,” she smiled, arms wrapped around his neck, “the only good side of the darkness—,” she started.

“—is the sex, bloody hell, I can see that,”

He had learned in the secret of their room in King Arthur’s castle that she had been having stronger orgasm than usual. He had, of course, been very intrigued. “Perhaps it only means I’m getting better day by day, Swan.” She had chuckled. “I can assure you, you’ve always been good but it’s as if the darkness amplifies my sensations…” And then he had taken it upon himself to prove her that her orgasm had everything to do with him and none with the darkness.

Clearly, as he rocked his hips with hers, he realized just how very wrong he had been.

The slow friction was soon not enough for the both of them.

She buried a chuckle in the warmth of his neck. “Let me turn around,” she asked him.

“Your wish is my command.”

He withdrew himself to let her lie down on her stomach, and the sight of her ass under the moonlight was quite literally heaven sent.

“Bloody hell, Swan,” he whispered, transfigured by what he was seeing.

She was making herself comfortable underneath him, crossing her arm under her head, and lifting her hips so that he could have full access to her body.

He licked his lips as his open palm traced the shape of her ass, and the line that went down to her clitoris. A shiver shook her as one, lazy finger penetrated her and she muffled a moan against her arms.

She was so very wet.

He couldn’t resist it. He leaned forward and kissed her there, his hand grabbing the full flesh.

“Hook,” she groaned with a husky voice.

He was tracing the shape of her inner folds with his tongue, a tongue that found itself very adventurous against her skin and explored her inner folds as well. He could feel how tense she was under his touch. Then, he was sucking her clitoris and her entire body was shaking.

He felt her come closer and closer, in the way her thighs were lifting, tensed, and that’s when he decided to step back.

“Hook!” the angry whispered attacked him right away.

He chuckled a bit, and bounced back on his knees.

“Coming to your rescue, princess…”

Spreading wider her legs, he settled between them. With one hand, he penetrated her again and she felt so delicious against his skin he closed his eyes in delight.

Bending towards her, he pressed a wet kiss between her shoulder blades while he went in her in long strokes.

When they had both come, she settled between his arm, and he snuggled her close. She still smelt like Emma.

And perhaps was he still just Killian. Perhaps was there a way out for them. (But where had all the fireflies gone?)

As she laid between his arms, he had this terrible, naïve, and selfish thought: they could run away – together. They could run all through the forest and never come back. They could be happy, together, even with this darkness inside of them. There was nothing they couldn’t do. There would be no more Dark Ones but them and their love.

She tightened her grip around his waist, and he pressed a kiss against her temple.

Selfishly, he almost wanted her to choose him – and he recognized the voice of darkness echoing in his thoughts. This voice murmured that he should be enough to make her completely and utterly happy – darkness and all – if only she truly loved him.

(Oh, he was aware of the fact that this simply wasn’t a reality possible for them. Even if he asked her to run, even if she said yes, it would destroy them. Hypothetically, he wasn’t sure how long it would take her to miss her entire family and to want go back and to hate him for having made her chose.

There wasn’t a reality in which she wouldn’t turn around to face him one day, and he would only see in her eyes disgust and betrayal and regrets.)

But the thing was, he knew her to be the only person necessary to his happiness.

She pressed another lazy kiss to his collarbone.

She was his happy ending and his one true love and she would be his light in the darkness as well.

As they lay together on the ground, he couldn’t help but notice the fireflies had stopped blinking in the night.

#captain swan #cs ff #cs fanfics #cs smut #5x10 #missing scene #and the ungoing saga of me writing missing smut scenes continues lmao #hope you will like this anon :) <3 #i apologize for any typos #my brain hurts and refuses to english atm #my stuff #Anonymous

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seokoloqy · 6 years

Text

helLO pARADISE, mY NAMe IS | myg (m)

➳ PAIRING: hades!yoongi x persephone!y/n

➳ GENRE: smut, just a tiny bit of angst, greek myth!au

➳ WORD COUNT: 10k

➳ WARNINGS: attempted kidnapping, mentions of death, fingering (he has rings on yeehaw), unprotected sex, creampie

➳ SUMMARY: Buried in the Earth where seasons did not exist, where all prosperous life perished, and Helios’s blinding light could not touch; you slept soundly in the arms of darkness.

➳ A/N: oomf first fic of 2019! i love greek myths so i hope i did it justice... and feedback is always welcome! anyways, happy new year everyone and i hope you enjoy!!

As the clouds wept for their fallen god, he was consumed by the Earth, sinking into the deepest parts of despair where humanity no longer existed and death lurked in the inky shallows of Styx. He found himself trapped inside the loneliest void the world had to offer. His brothers did not grieve for his loss for they found comfort in their own luxury above where the Earth flourished in his absence. As flowers began to blossom in Spring, he created a kingdom where isolation and despair found solace in the arms of the dead.

Eons of solitude wore away at his weary soul, and he longed for Helios’s blinding rays to grace his pale skin, to see blooming gardens rise from dirt, and for the smell of earthy petrichor once again. He wanted—needed—his own slice of Elysian in the Hell he, unfortunately, called home.

“Hello, uh…” Is the first missing piece of euphoria he has found in your hesitant voice, as you struggle to address him. You had accidentally bumped into him, colliding against one another as you tried running the opposite direction, away from the vigilant eyes of your keeper.

In the lively chatter of drunken gods, he can only focus on you, the budding goddess of Spring, and forgets entirely why he has come to visit his brother's palace. It’s rare to find him wandering the great and golden halls of Olympus; he doesn’t belong in the palace of glowing gods.

It’s amusing you don’t recognize him. Can’t you tell? He diminishes light, darkness follows his wake, flowers wilt and die, life ceases to exist wherever he goes. It must be your mother, leaving you clueless and naive to the realm of Hades.

“Yoongi.” He answers, reprieving you from embarrassment. No recognition, not even a glint behind your youthful and sparkling eyes. You really have never heard of the danger you’ve just met.

“Hello Yoongi, my name is Y/N,” you chirp.

Light does not touch him, yet, the outstretched offering of peace glows softly. Your hand reaches towards him, a golden light that breaks the cover of darkness surrounding his being.

Hesitantly, he takes your hand gently, afraid he might put out your ethereal light. To his astonishment, as his hand envelops yours it glows brighter, like a connection woven by the fates has been made. He’s struck by the warmth that encompasses him, thawing his frozen heart and sending him spiraling down into sweet oblivion.

The seconds of your warm, endless light holding onto him is enough to decide. He needs you to save him from the eternal darkness that clouds his realm—bring him salvation from solitude.

“There you are, Y/N! What are you doing wandering off, love?”

Your hand slips from his and the connection is lost, leaving him bitterly cold once again, longing for a hint of warmth.

Love. He hasn’t heard that useless phrase in centuries, but as it falls from the messenger god’s lips, it ignites a long forgotten flame inside him. What was it like to have a lover? Admittedly he has had his share of meaningless late-night affairs, but what does it feel like to hold someone he cherishes in his arms at the end of his eternal nights?

“Your mother put me in charge of you, and she’ll castrate me if she finds out you’ve been talking to strangers.” The exasperated messenger pulls you away from the brooding god, keeping you a safe distance from the dark.

Yoongi is hardly a stranger. Olympus knows his name, eldest son of Kronos and king of the underworld, he deserves more respect from a simple winged boy. However, he doesn’t express his contempt for the messenger’s choice of words, leaving his anger to simmer.

“You can’t keep me by your side forever, Taehyung. I want to be free to meet new people.” You dare to look towards Yoongi, the enigmatic stranger whose cold hands somehow felt warm clasped around yours.

You examine the crown resting carefully atop his silver hair. The metal, well-worn through years of abuse, has turned a discolored amber color. The design of his crown twists into what resembles antlers overlapping one another with a single garnet gem held in the center. It looks sharp enough to pierce the skin.

“Am I not sufficient company, darling?” Taehyung pouts then brings his attention towards Yoongi giving him a look that says something along the lines of ‘back off’. A look that doesn’t intimidate Yoongi the slightest, he has seen worse in Tartarus, where only the wicked spend their eternity. “Would you prefer to be acquainted with the king of Hades instead?”

Dissatisfaction is prevalent in Taehyung’s voice. Of all the gods on Olympus, you had to meet him, the most unpleasant, insolent, and ill-tempered god of them all. He is meant to look after you during your visit to Olympus and now you're smitten by the king of Hades.

You stare wide-eyed at Yoongi. You’ve heard of his realm before briefly when your mother explained what happened to mortals when they died. You faintly recall her saying his kingdom was desolate and devoid of life, including the gardens you cherish so much.

You purse your rosy lips, disapproving of Taehyung’s attitude towards not only you but Yoongi as well. “I can befriend whoever I please, you aren’t my mother and you don’t control me, Taehyung.”

“She’s right. I believe she should be free to choose for herself,” Yoongi agrees, keeping his eyes keenly trained on you while Taehyung’s narrow at the king’s words.

“What has brought you to Olympus, Yoongi? Neither of your brothers or sisters has requested you, I would have known.” Taehyung knows everything that goes on in the palace, who comes and goes, who belongs and who doesn’t.

“I am here on my own accord, boy. Do I need permission to visit my brother's palace?” Venom drips from Yoongi’s lips as he glowers at the pretentious young god.

The air slowly begins to thin and becomes harder and harder to breathe. With the tension between the two, you start to feel uncomfortable watching their silent confrontation. You grab Taehyung’s hand and try pulling him away first, knowing the hot-headed messenger doesn’t like to back down from a challenge.

“Let's go back to the garden. I want to see the flowers again,” you mutter. Taehyung reluctantly follows tearing his gaze away to trail after you. “Goodbye, Yoongi, it was nice meeting you.”

You turn away from the god without looking back, silently hoping you can continue this meeting another time soon when there is no guardian hovering over you under the instruction of your mother.

Yoongi watches as you disappear, taking the light with you and leaving him alone in the dark once again.

The mortal world is where the foolish, the greedy, and the sinful lie. The likes of which, you blindly do not know of. You are caught in an idyllic dream where there is no wrong in the world, carefully crafted by your mother.

She believes mortals are expendable beings that have no business being associated with the gods. They’re dirty creatures with wicked whims that will do anything for what they desperately desire. They hunt their prey like wild beasts, unrelenting and merciless.

“Come out, there is no use in hiding. You’re mine.”

Taehyung left you by the lapping pools of a crystal lake. You convinced him it was a safe location since it is so close to home, where your mother is. He trusted you would be safe under the watch of several nymphs who inhabited the quiet lake.

“Did you hear me? You belong to me. Now come out before I get angry.”

However, it wasn’t safe there, someone was watching in the dark foliage, stalking you with their vigilant eyes. You were unaware of the danger that lurked in the dark as you plucked wildflowers from the Earth.

“When I find you, I will make you my bride.”

You had no choice but to run, trying to find sanctuary in an unfamiliar part of the forest. No protection against this danger, just your instinct, and prayers that one of the benevolent gods will come to your rescue.

As your bare feet desperately push you forward, the ground begins to tremble. You’re knocked off balance and sent tumbling into the ground. As you lie in the dirt, whimpering as rocks dig into your soft flesh, the sound of footsteps creeps closer. You’re certain he has found you and will drag you back to his kingdom where he will make sure of his promise.

Fear grips you in its steady grasp. Your legs are frozen, unable to stand again, despite your begging. You plead for the strength to move, but nothing finds you. Just as helplessness washes over you, the Earth finally caves, sinking you into the deepest parts of despair.

Your descent begins with a scream for help as you fall into unending darkness. You meet water at the end of your fall—bottomless, black waters. It consumes you and envelops your entire being in its murky depths. The sting of its surface hitting your skin is excruciating. You try to cry out from pain, but water rushes into your lungs as you thrash.

Swimming towards the surface, you’re met with dim moonlight and an endless fog. You violently cough up the remnants of water still lingering in your throat. There is no shore in sight, you're left no resting place, forced to paddle your arms and kick your legs to stay afloat.

“Hello?” You call out hoarsely, hoping for an answer in this lifeless world. “Please help me!”

“Help will never come, you foolish child,” a disembodied voice hisses.

You twist your head, looking for the source of the voice to find nothing but the same endless waters. There is nowhere to hide if it chooses to find you. You reply to it, “What do you mean? Where am I?”

The voice mockingly laughs, echoing all around yet no one is there, “You’re in Hades.”

Yoongi. The king of Hades crosses your mind. This is his realm. Which means he must be here too, watching over his kingdom. Was it him who sent you here?

“Do you… have any idea how to get out?”

It laughs again, “Once you’re here you can never leave.”

The laughter subsides and you’re left alone again to muddle in your thoughts. That stranger in the forest, this is all his fault. He called himself a king, he said he was lost, and he asked for your name which you carelessly gave away. He hunted you and chased you through the thickets, all while spewing nonsensical vows to marry you.

While you pity yourself for being so foolish, you feel a tug at your dress. As you try peering down into the inky waters, it tugs again harder, nearly submerging your head under. Panic sets in and you begin to swim towards nothing in particular, just desperate to get away from whatever is grabbing at you.

A hand wraps around your ankle pulling you underneath the surface. You clamp your mouth shut to stop the scream desperate to escape and try to swim up, moving your legs to shake off the hand. In the murky waters, you can make out a figure of a person, holding tightly onto your ankle. Its grey fingers dig into your skin, piercing the flesh and hooking into you. The hollow eyes and decaying face watch as you twist and pull yourself closer to the surface.

There’s another corpse, and another, appearing out of the dark depths all swimming towards you, trying to get a piece. One of the corpses pushed into the one holding onto you and you manage to pry your leg free. Without hesitation you begin to swim away, rising to the surface for air.

You can feel their hands brushing along your legs, stomach, and waist. Swimming further into the fog, you make out a rocky shore. You kick your legs and dive your arms into the water, trying to escape.

As you come upon the shores filled with piercing rocks, you can no longer stand to move your limbs. You lay in the rising waters, half submerged and your arms splayed forwards gripping onto the jagged rocks for a semblance of comfort.

There are no more hands clawing at your feet, for now, you believe you are safe and that lulls you into a deep sleep.

“How could you let this happen? I told you to bring her to me safely and she is worse than when she arrived! You’re absolutely useless, get out.”

Your eyes flutter open at the familiar sound of Yoongi’s voice, hushed and irritated. Footsteps recede and a door is slammed, followed by Yoongi’s deep sigh.

You are no longer on the rocky shores of Hades, instead, you’re pressed against a mattress tucked beneath a wool blanket. The room is unfamiliar, coated in blacks and greys. The black canopy bed you are laid in is draped in dark mesh, leaving the hushed whisper behind a semi-transparent curtain. You can faintly make out the silhouette of Yoongi and his pointed crown.

“Yoongi,” you whisper, reaching your now bandaged arm out to push aside the mesh drape.

He must have heard you, his outline turns towards the bed and opens the curtain, revealing him in the same dark attire you last saw him in. His face is relieved, lips twisting into a faint smile as he gazes at you fondly. “You’re okay now. Just rest and I will run you a bath soon.”

“No, wait!” You call just as he begins to turn away, a hand darting out to latch onto his retreating figure, only grazing the skin of his wrist lightly. He flinches from your touch, and you withdraw your hand to your chest. Your cheeks turn a rosy color, feeling as if you’ve interfered with his personal space. He doesn’t seem like the type of man who enjoys physical contact.

When you first met, he was so hesitant to even touch you. Maybe he only shook your hand so you would leave him alone, after all, he has a reputation on Olympus for being a callous god.

“I mean… thank you for answering me.”

“Answering you?” He echoes, parting the drapes further.

You pluck the stray threads of wool from the blanket thrown over you. “I prayed.” You answer, pushing yourself up the bed. Your bare arms are met with cold air, sending your arms to unconsciously wrap around yourself. Your dress is still damp from the fall. “I prayed and you saved me, didn’t you?”

Yoongi takes the wool blanket and pushes it over your shoulders, careful not to touch your glowing skin. He licks his parched lips and offers you a solemn reply, “I hardly saved your life. You landed in Styx, nearly drowned in the waters and cut yourself on the shores. I could have killed you.”

“But you saved me from that wicked king, Pirithous. I’d rather be dead than trapped as a bride to that awful man?”

Yoongi makes note of that name, mentally reserving a special spot in Tartarus for him soon.

“Sir?”

“What now?” Yoongi snaps, turning to the door where his withered ferryman stands haunched. Yoongi hasn’t gotten over the carelessness and disregards the ferryman seemed to have for his order to bring you back unscathed.

“The messenger is here for you.”

“Taehyung?” You perk up, pushing aside the blanket, eager to see your friend again. You want to be held in comforting arms, a familiar and safe embrace. “I have to see him.”

Yoongi is quick to move in front of you as you swing your legs over the bed. He has his palm towards you as a gesture to stop you, close, but not touching your bare shoulder. “You can’t see him, not like this.”

You glance down at your attire, lilac dress clinging to your damp skin. Despite this, you don’t find anything the matter. The wool blanket is tossed aside and you stand, nearly pressing against him, toe to toe. He doesn’t seem to notice the proximity, a glaze in his atramentous eyes.

“I mean… You could become ill. This dress…” he drifts off, eyes trailing to the side where they linger over the sheets you slept peacefully in. “I’ll run you a bath instead.”

Yoongi steps away, finally regaining his sanity, and makes his way towards the connecting bathroom. The ornamental cape draped over his shoulders flows behind his figure and disappears into the bath.

You turn your head to the shadowy man still lingering in the doorway who curiously stares at the soft golden halo of light enveloping your body. It’s unnerving the way his skeletal fingers clutch his staff tightly to his chest and his crooked gaze drifts over you.

The faucet is turned on, the sound of water filling the tub fills the room and the arcane ferryman turns to leave the threshold, returning to the river where he is most needed.

“Come in.” Yoongi emerges from the bathroom, sleeves rolled up and showing off the pale skin underneath.

“W-With you?”

You regret the words as soon as they come out of your mouth, not realizing how it sounds aloud. What is it that you’re implying?

Yoongi drags his eyes down your figure, tonguing his cheek. ”No, I have to meet with the messenger.” He shakes his head, trying to erase the lustful images that have plagued his thoughts. He takes his leave, heading towards the door afraid if he looks at you again, it will drive him insane. “Please, take as long as you need.”

He leaves before you can thank him for saving you—for caring for you.

You emerge from the bathroom, wrapped tightly in a white towel. Your original clothes are damp with water from the river and you’re left with no other option. You flush at the thought of wandering around Yoongi’s palace with nothing but a flimsy piece of cloth wrapped around your body.

The room is well furnished with a full vanity table as well as a closet. There must be something in there for you to wear, undoubtedly only men’s clothing, specifically only Yoongi’s clothing. You walk across the room to the closet, opening up the creaking doors.

There only seems to be one color pallet in his wardrobe—black. The shirts hung up are neatly spaced on the rack with pants folded and resting at the bottom. His shirts are all the same, black button-up shirts. You pull one off the hanger and slip your arms through the sleeves. They fall past your hands and stop mid-thigh.

You admire the silk and the cooling effect it has on your skin. Releasing your towel to the ground, you begin to button up the shirt. As you pick up the pants laid out and unravel them, they seem too big to fit around your waist so you put them back, deciding the shirt is enough for now.

The halls are empty, holding only foreboding darkness at the end where you have no idea what awaits. This is nothing like Olympus, where the golden halls are lined with windows opening to the blue skies and wispy clouds. Here, heavy curtains cover the pane and block the view.

Yoongi never said you had to stay in the room, and you’re hoping to find Taehyung and explain everything to him. Your mother must be worried sick, you have to reassure her you’re okay.

“Yoongi?” You try calling. You doubt you’ll find the throne room easily and there isn’t anyone around to guide you.

Leaving the hall you come upon a room where you’re struck with a sense of familiarity. Underneath the dome-shaped ceiling is a tree. In the heart of the room is a full pomegranate tree, bearing deliciously ripe fruit.

You unconsciously step forward, entranced by the glowing halo of light cascading down from the windows above. The only bit of light in this realm belongs to the tree. You ache for its warmth to blossom across your skin once again.

Your hand reaches for one of the sanguine fruit, plucking it off. As the branch snaps back and the leaves rustle, you run your thumb over the smooth skin, admiring the ripeness and shine. The shell cracks under the pressure of your fingers digging into the core where the wine colored juices leak out and bleed onto your fingers. You pluck a few maroon seeds from the center and fondle them in the palm of your hand.

“Stop! What are you doing?” The yell comes from the opposite end of the room, there you see Yoongi rapidly approaching, cape billowing behind him. He rips the fruit from your unsteady hands and tosses it to the ground, giving you a warning look. “You must not eat or drink anything from my kingdom if you want to return home to your mother. Do you understand me?” He warns, stern eyes focusing on your gaping features.

All you can do is nod weakly as your eyes drift to the discarded fruit and scattered seeds, not daring to look up, “I’m sorry. I-I didn’t know.”

You really are a foolish girl. No wonder your mother never let you roam the land without a guardian. It took months of begging for her to agree to let you visit Olympus for the first time, but only with Taehyung as an escort. You can’t go anywhere alone without her overbearing fear for your safety.

Yoongi regrets his uncontrolled outburst, feeling guilty as your face falls, but he can’t risk unintentionally trapping you here. You probably will never forgive him. “Don’t apologize to me.” He sighs, shifting his crown forward as it had moved back in his haste to reach you on time.

You nod silently, toying with the edge of his shirt draped over your figure. Yoongi’s attention drifts over to your hands and down to the bare skin of your legs. Under his gaze, you unconsciously pull the shirt lower, embarrassed by the exposure.

“You must be cold.” He blurts, hands moving to his neck where the string of his cape lies. “Here, take this.”

He unties his cape, pulling the string around his neck loose with agile fingers and wraps it over your shoulders, the warmth left from his body lingers and envelops you. He fixes it around your shoulders, tying a neat bow in the front.

You don’t have the heart to tell him you aren’t cold as your giddy heart races when he smoothes the dark cloth over your shoulders. A touch that sends shivers down your body, although not the same as when you first met. When your hands touched for the first time it felt like millions of volts through your body, sensations you only crave more of.

“There you go,” he murmurs, lips pulling into a tight awkward smile as his hands fall from your shoulders.

“Thank you.” You fight off the rising blush, wrapping the entire cape around your body to hug yourself.

“Of course. Now, come, I have a room for you.” He gestures with two fingers beckoning you to follow him through the door you came through and back into the dark halls.

“What about Taehyung? Hasn’t he come to take me home?” You ask, catching up to Yoongi as he moves to the door.

He must have spoken to Taehyung while you were bathing. Did Yoongi tell him what happened to you?

“I’ve explained everything and we both agreed it would be safer if… you stayed here with me for a while.” There is a hint of unease behind his voice and he reaches to unbutton his collar, exposing his sunken collarbones.

“And my mother? She must be worried!” You exclaim, taking the cape and wrapping it tighter around yourself as it gives you a bit of security from the dark.

Yoongi grimaces at the mention of your overbearing mother, “Taehyung will notify her. You have nothing to worry about.”

You nod, accepting his answers. Staying here doesn’t seem so bad. You’ve never really gotten the chance to explore anywhere else but Earth, where it’s green grass and blue skies never failed to make you feel comforted. Here it’s different. Every inch of this kingdom is covered in mist and decay, the inhabitants are no longer living.

But looking at Yoongi as he strides confidently down the hall makes you a bit braver, he is undisturbed by the darkness of his kingdom and you want to exude that same confidence. Adapting to and learning about a whole new world intrigues you, especially when its king is so infamous on Olympus—a mystery in your eyes.

“This is your room for now.” He stops in front of the door adjacent to the one you woke up in. Both doors are exactly alike and you can only guess behind the door is an immaculate copy of the same room. “And I’ll be in the one across from you.”

“Thank you,” you grin, pulling him into a hug. He has his arms hovering over your shoulders, startled by your sudden embrace. Before he can lay his hand around you, you pull away. “And goodnight, Yoongi.”

The room, despite its fresh linen and immaculate furnishings, fails to bring you a sense of comfort in this unfamiliar environment. You’re alone underneath the suffocating blankets and left pondering what your fate would have been if you hadn’t been rescued by Yoongi.

If he hadn’t saved you… just the thought of that vile and repulsive king trying to steal you away to make you his prize of a wife makes you want to scream. You’re beyond grateful for Yoongi’s generosity and hospitality—welcoming you into his kingdom, an infamous land where its doors open only for the dead.

You stare at the ceiling, thinking of the man resting in the room across the hall. You’ve only just met, yet, there is an undeniable pull—like Eros has struck you with his golden arrow and brought you together. You find yourself longing again for his touch.

You brush off your lingering thoughts and toss aside the sheets, letting it fall across the empty half of the bed. From your bedroom to his, you carefully tip-toe across the empty hall, hoping not to disturb whatever resides in the dark. As you push down the golden handle and creak open a sliver of his door, you’re met with the silver moonlight and the shadow of Yoongi’s figure as he faces the window. He turns his head at the sound of his door opening, startled by the sudden intruder.

Peaking your head through the crack, you ask him a question, “May I come in?”

He nods and turns to face you, hands clasped behind his back as he watches you enter the room silently. You shut the door behind you, hearing the lock click into place and lean against the door frame.

“Are you feeling alright?” He asks, hoping the chilling temperature hasn’t begun to affect you.

“I’m feeling fine, but I just…” you trail off, unable to find the right words. Asking the king of Hades if you can spend the night in his bed together seems so uncouth to you. “Can I stay with you? Just for tonight.”

You prepare for the worst reaction, for him to refuse and turn you away, laughing at your foolish bravery. Although, you’re silently praying he’ll agree to let you fall soundly asleep in his arms.

“Yes.” He speaks without hesitation despite his better judgment objecting every step he takes towards the bed, suddenly looking smaller than before. How can he lay beside a goddess, one who shines despite the looming darkness that shrouds him, without diminishing part of that light?

You nearly skip to the bed, wanting nothing more than to crawl into it and drift off into oblivion securely pressed against his chest. You peel the sheets back, sliding into the familiar warmth with a satisfied sigh.

He doesn’t know if you’d prefer for him to join you now or wait until you’re asleep.

“Will you join me?” You ask through tired eyelids. Today has been an experience you never thought possible, meeting the king of Hades, being chased by another mad king and brought to the underworld. You just want to sleep for centuries.

He wordlessly nods and pulls back the blanket and joins you, laying on his side facing you.

You turn on your side to look at his glowing features, boldly letting your tired thoughts slip out, “You’re cute.” Your finger traces the curve of his nose and pauses at the tip just as he begins to blush. A giggle escapes you and you pull your finger away, enjoying the way his nose scrunches and he shakes his head.

“Just cute?” He muses. “I should be the one saying that to you.”

“Ah,” you swoon, pressing a hand to your cheek jokingly. “The almighty king of the underworld believes I’m cute.”

“Is that so surprising?”

“No, many gods tell me frequently… however, I think I like when you say it the most,” you admit, slipping an arm underneath his to bring yourself closer to his chest and resting to the sound of his beating heart.

Adjusting to the eternal night sky and echoing screams of the damned takes time. You’re sure that enough time has passed above that the trees are beginning to shed its leaves and the vibrant flowers are beginning to wilt in preparation for Fall. There’s no way of knowing for sure, there are no flowers in Hades, besides the pomegranate tree that never seems to wither. While the season change, you take comfort resting endless nights away beneath the everlasting tree, needing no other entertainment besides the artificial light and rustling branches as they sway peacefully.

But it’s no secret you long to see grassy hills and blooming flowers again while stuck in this kingdom—it’s not like home. The closest you will ever get to those blossoming hills is the distant glow of the Elysian, a sanctuary out of reach to you. It’s reserved only for righteous mortal souls, off-limits to everyone else.

Yoongi has assured you many times that this is for the best. He only wants to keep you safe while Pirithous is still roaming the Earth looking for a bride. He tries making up for your frustrations by allowing you to join him as he rules over his kingdom with a stern fist. You sit by his side, listening to woeful tales of dead men and women as they beg for another chance at life. The answer is always a resounding no. You’ve learned that Yoongi doesn’t allow for second chances—one miserable life is enough for mortals.

Today seems no different as the weeping man falls to his knees before you, desperately holding onto a lyre and pleading for the return of his wife. “Please, I’ve come so far… Euridice was so young and we just married. We had our whole lives ahead of us. She was taken too quickly from me.”

You hear Yoongi huff, bored and already waiting to move on.

“And what makes this any different than all the others? I’ve heard it before. Don’t waste my time with your tears, Orpheus.”

“B-But I’ll do anything to save my love,” the man stutters, clambering to his feet, daring to take a step forward. “Wouldn’t you do the same for yours?”

Yoongi’s eyes naturally glance to you and you can’t help but notice. You haven’t been here long, no one in the underworld really knows the real magnitude of your relationship with its king, not even you. Does sharing a bed and falling asleep in his arms every night count as something more to him? You hope it does because you find yourself loving the nights you spend together in his room talking about the world above, how he still loves his chaotic brothers despite their differences and your love for blooming flowers in the Springtime.

“Anything?” Yoongi muses, leaning into the ebony throne with his arms resting on either side, a hint of mischief in his voice. “Then prove it to me.”

“W-What?” The mortal clutches his lyre to his chest, confused by the king’s request.

“Prove to me how much you care for your love and I might be inclined to release her.”

You look between the two men staring at one another as seconds pass. Yoongi isn’t one to let spirits leave his kingdom easily. It will take an extraordinary gesture that will move him enough to set Euridice free. You already pity the mortal, he’s lost his wife and now has come a long way to bravely face the king of Hades.

“I accept,” Orpheus speaks after mulling over his options. He sits on the ground, positioning his lyre before strumming the strings of his worn instrument. The melody he creates is a melancholy song of longing and loss. As it slowly echoes through the room, you’re entranced by the gentle sound of his haunting song. It’s like you can feel his pain, his grief, his loneliness. Even without words, it’s clear how much he loves his wife.

It reminds you of your situation and how you desperately want to be reunited with your mother, how lonesome it is here without the nymphs or Taehyung, but also the way you feel for Yoongi.

He stops strumming, waiting for a response from the king. Yoongi seems unmoved, remaining in his laid-back position and twisting the metal ring on his forefinger with his thumb lazily.

“All I can say is, I’m impressed by your incredible talent, unfortunately...”

You know what’s coming, the cruel refusal and unsympathetic shrug as he dismisses him for another desperate soul. The ‘no’ is just on the tip of his tongue and you can’t help but beat him to the conclusion. You can’t watch another one go, not after such a moving performance. He deserves to be reunited with his love, he’s proven himself enough with his haunting melody

“Give him a chance, Yoongi.” You lean across your chair, reaching for his hand.

Orpheus begins with a chant of thank you’s and relieved tears as he looks to your sympathetic face.

“And why should I?” Yoongi interrupts. He doesn’t show any indignation for your demand, nor does he seem pleased.

“You can’t turn him away, not after he traveled all the way to bravely face you. I think he has proven his love enough. Please, give him a chance.”

“If you truly believe he deserves this, I promise to let her go on one condition,” he turns toward Orpheus. “You can have her back as long as you don’t look at her until you leave this realm. You may have the urge to turn back but, if you don’t, you’ll have a lifetime with her if you keep your patience for a little while longer.”

Another odd request from the king, but nevertheless, the mortal man is overjoyed by your persuasion. He swears to obey Yoongi’s wishes, believing he won’t lose her again. He makes his way to the doors, eagerly awaiting to be reunited with his wife once again on Earth. As he turns, a shadowy figure materializes behind him in the form of his wife, no longer the decrepit and pale apparition she once was while stuck in oblivion. Her young, familiar self has been restored by Yoongi’s promise.

You watch as they leave, Eurydice trailing behind her ecstatic husband as he leads them off. However, it doesn’t take long until the news of their ill-fated journey meets your ears.

“He couldn’t do it?” You push yourself off the ground and wipe away the dirt stuck to the chiffon fabric of your dress. You took a break to relax away from the tears of the dead.

“The very last step, he turned around and now Eurydice has returned to Asphodel.” He explains.

His unapologetic tone irritates you. He doesn’t seem to have any remorse for the star-crossed lovers. Why would he create another challenge after Orpheus had already proven himself? Did Yoongi want to watch as he failed to save his wife again?

“You’re cruel.” You spin to face the tree trunk and pick at its bark, hiding your watering eyes from him. Your fingers pluck at the bark until a splinter pierces your skin and a quiet whimper passes your lips. You pull your hand back to inspect it, but Yoongi grabs it first, watching as the golden ichor bleeds from your finger.

“Am I?” He feigns disbelief, gazing between your tearful expression and the cut on your index finger. “I gave him a chance to cheat death, and he failed. How am I so cruel?”

He presses a delicate kiss to your finger, watching your reaction as roses blossom on your cheeks. He uses the hand in his grasp to pull you into his arms, where you find home in the crook of his neck.

“You knew he would turn around. You pretended to give him a chance when you knew he would fail. Why couldn’t you just let her go instead of giving him false hope?” You press your face into his shoulder, wiping away tears that have formed but refuse to fall.

They had a chance at a happy ending and he has ruined it with an impossible challenge.

“Life isn’t fair and neither is death. I only taught him that again.”

Nothing is ever fair, especially death. Loved ones are taken too quickly and bargains and bribes will never bring them back. You frown, knowing his words are right.

You pull away from his embrace, needing a moment for yourself and leave him behind, as he wonders what he did wrong, and make your way through the darkened halls to your original room.

You’d rather sleep alone tonight. As you trudge towards your room, you wonder if you’ll ever be freed. It has been over a month since you’ve been here and despite the constant reassurance, you still don’t know when it’ll ever be safe to return to the surface.

Will he keep you here forever too? Like another one of his shades he refuses to let go of. But given the chance, do you want to leave him?

Yes, you miss your mother, but the difference between her and being here with Yoongi is the way they treat you. Your mother, despite her heart being in all the right places, treated you like a child. There was never a moment where she’d let you go off alone, not even on Olympus where there’s enough power in one god to smite any trespasser. Instead, she says it’s the gods you needed to fear. All that power in childish and irresponsible deities is a dangerous mix that she didn’t want you to be associated with.

Here, you’ve learned more than you ever have on Earth about life and death. There’s so much about Hades you want to learn including all the secrets of its ruler.

The guest room is cold and unwelcoming, and you’re tempted to walk across the hall to join Yoongi and forget about the whole situation. Instead, you collapse onto the bed and sigh as the events of today wash over you.

“There you are.”

You know that voice, the voice of the man who tried taking you away. He finally found you. The door shuts behind him as he creeps into the room with a wicked grin on his face.

“How did you find me?” You’re back against the headboard as you try and press yourself away from him.

“It doesn’t take a lot to bribe the ferryman into giving you away,” he laughs, standing at the edge of your bed, reaching out to you with withered fingers.

You jump off the bed to avoid his grasp, crying out, “Get away from me. I will never marry you!”

The lamp on the bed stand is wrenched from the table and you throw it in his direction, hitting him square in the face. As it collides with his nose, you take the chance to run while he stumbles back in pain. He cries out profanities and curses your name. You have no time to pay attention to the words that escape his mouth as you dash into the hall and come upon the pomegranate tree.

“Yoongi!” You call, running through the door on the other side where the throne room is. You burst through the doors and find Yoongi already standing at his throne.

“What’s the matter?” He demands as you throw yourself into his arms. He was planning out an apology before going to see you in your room, having no idea of the intruder trying to steal you from him.

The door swings open and Pirithous barges in with fury etched on his face, blood leaking from his nose.

Yoongi pushes you behind him and addresses the pathetic man. You watch as Pirithous begins to cower, not realizing you had come into the throne room where Yoongi had been and not expecting the king of Hades to look so intimidating.

“And who are you?” Yoongi questions, looking over the unfamiliar face.

“P-Pirithous, your majesty.”

Recognition and anger are what you see cross Yoongi’s face. “You really are a fool, Pirithous, daring to come into my kingdom to steal yourself a bride,” Yoongi sneers, advancing towards the trembling mortal. “And what makes you think I’ll let you walk back out?” He grabs Pirithous by the collar and brings his face closer to watch as the man pales. “If I were you, I’d start praying to the gods and maybe they will have enough pity to save you because I certainly will not.”

Yoongi turns and pulls him by the collar towards his throne where he throws Pirithous. As he falls into the chair thick vines begin to overlap his body and trap him.

“You’ll stay there until the Erinyes come to collect you.”

“N-No… you can’t do this to me! I am a king!” Pirithous screams desperately, thrashing against his bindings.

You stand by Yoongi, watching him struggle and you can only feel relief. How can you feel sympathy for the man who tried abducting you? Whatever his fate will be you’re glad he’s no longer a threat to you.

“Come with me. You have nothing to worry about anymore.” Yoongi takes your hand, guiding you away from the anguished cries and pleading screams. It’s the last you see of Pirithous.

It seems like eons since you’ve last seen a flower, much less a whole field of them, swaying gently in the chilling breeze of the underworld. The vermillion poppies Yoongi presents you are like a gift that swells your heart with adoration. Despite the looming cavernous cave you stand near, the sight is pleasant and welcoming. You’re tempted to dash into the fields and throw yourself into the flowers, but you haven’t been outside his castle since you arrived here, so you’re unsure of what could be lurking in the fields or the cave.

“I don’t come here often because the brothers that dwell in these caves are quite reclusive. However, I’m sure they won’t mind you being here awhile.” Yoongi explains, striding into the red meadow. You trail after him, letting your hand glide across the tips of the flowers that meet your waist. “I know it doesn’t compare to the flowers on Earth, but-”

“No, they’re perfect.” Your hand reaches for his without thinking to intertwine your fingers together. His fingers tighten around yours and he smiles as you begin to lead the way.

You spend a majority of time walking through the meadow and weaving flowers into your hair as he watches on. You’re sat in the middle of the field beneath the looming flowers, head leaning on Yoongi’s shoulder as you twirl a poppy absentmindedly between your fingers. It’s peaceful here and you can pretend you’re no longer in Hades, instead, above on Earth where Spring continues to flourish and nothing is dead.

“I’m sorry I upset you earlier,” he mumbles, watching the flowers sway. “Perhaps I am cruel to tear two lovers apart and perhaps I’m jealous that they have a love that will last forever even when one of them is gone.”

Listening to Orpheus weep about losing his love too soon made Yoongi realize how little time he has left with you, and it only dwindles with each moment that passes in this meadow. With Pirithous no longer any threat, you’ll be back in your mother’s arms in no time and he’ll be here, tending to the dead as he has for eons, alone. Will you forget about him as each month slowly passes and you’re reunited with the other gods?

“What do you have to be jealous of?”

“Because you’ll be gone soon,” he admits. “And I...”

He can barely finish his sentence. The time you’ve spent with him is what he will continue to cherish forever, how can he easily give that away? He doesn’t want to think of eternity without you. He’ll miss your light.

The wistful expression on his face as he looks down at your glowing figure tugs at your heart. In this moment, you know exactly what you want. You want him—all of him, even the darkest parts he keeps hidden. For the first time, you realize you’re in love with him. It’s not even the type of love Eros himself could conjure up with a strike through the chest with his precise golden arrows. The king of Hades has absolutely stolen your heart all on his own.

“Do you think I’ll stop loving you even when we’re apart?” You scan his awestruck expression, tucking the red flower behind his ear and cradling his cheek. Against the ashen color of his hair, the bit of color from the flower brightens his tender smile. “I love you, Yoongi, you are my paradise. Even if we’re apart.”

Your echoing words resonate deeply within him.

Love and paradise.

There is that word again, but this time it doesn’t seem so meaningless. Is this the answer? Could love be the piece of Elysian he has desperately searched for? You’re all he can ever want, all he’s ever needed. The moment he met you, he knew there could never be anyone more perfect for him like you were created for one another. He will do anything for you. He knows the answer now to the aching feeling in his chest, it must be love.

“I think,” he breathes in, bracing himself for the forgotten words he never thought would escape his lips. “I think I love you too.”

The excitement of his confession replays in your thoughts throughout the night. You slip further beneath the waters of your bath, letting your nose rest above the water.

You want nothing more than to scream from the top of Olympus and announce to gods and mortals alike that the king of Hades is in love with you. But what will you do now?

Stories and gossip from Olympus of lovers spending passionate nights together cross your mind. The gods have all spoken of it, laughed about their fair share around the rim of their wine glasses. You’d never admit it to your mother, but their stories always piqued your interest and you had been tempted to learn more only with the right person.

Besides stories of lovers, you’d also heard the horrendous failures of illicit affairs between the king of Olympus, his many lovers, and vengeful wife. You’re careful not to be that foolish, and now you have finally had someone whom you’d like to share that passion with.

Hardly able to contain yourself, you rise from the tub and step out, reaching for a towel to dry yourself off. You exit the bathroom to find Yoongi removing his crown and cape. The towel wrapped around your chest makes it hard to breathe as you slowly inhale.

“Yoongi?”

“Yes, love?”

You grin at the endearing name he’s given to you. As he turns you release the towel and embrace the chilling air. His expression is less than excited, devoid of any hint of pleasure. His mouth set in a thin line as his eyes travel down your exposed body. He catches his bottom lip between his teeth, trying to ignore the way his body begins to react at the sight of you.

“And what is this for?” He grunts, walking towards the bed.

“For you.” You answer, confused by his reaction. The gods speak of uncontrollable desire and yet, Yoongi is the picture of composure. “Am I not what you want?” You bring your arms over your chest, following him to the bed.

“Of course I want you.” His response is automatic, not a hint of hesitation behind his voice. Gods, he wants it badly, but won’t bring himself to taint you and diminish your blinding glow.

You feel a wave of lust go over you by the way he stares, hooded eyes and lip caught between his teeth. Maybe he needs more convincing this is exactly what you want.

You saunter up to him, hips swaying and eyes inviting him to indulge for once. You press down on his chest until he is sitting on the bed, staring up at you with darkened eyes.

“Please, Yoongi, touch me,” you plead, grasping his hand in yours and bringing it to your beating chest. His frigid fingers do nothing to cool the scorching heat of your body. “Don’t be afraid. Make me yours.”

His stony expression remains unchanged despite your desperate whimpers, driving you into madness. Why won’t he move? You’re willing to give yourself to him, every inch, and he refuses still.

Daring to push him further into temptation, you guide his slender fingers down to your breast, moaning as his hand presses against the hardened nipple. The way he sucks in a breath, hiding his lust for you, only arouses you further. His fingers gently tease the bud as he watches your eyes flutter shut and you moan into his hand.

He doesn’t take his eyes off your body, roaming every supple curve from your breasts to your waist and down to where he desires you most. Your light is magnetic, and he’s drawn so senselessly towards you. Preparing to worship every part of you like any devout mortal, kisses will be his prayers and your screams of pleasure will be his sacrifice. He wants to ravish you until your screams become deafening and your mother knows exactly where you have been hiding and who is defiling her dear daughter.

“Pl-Please,” You move yourself to straddle his lap and his hand doesn’t move from your breast, fondling the soft flesh in his palm. You carefully pressing your dripping core to the rough fabric of his dark pants, where you can see his evident arousal begin to grow. Your trembling hands glide down Yoongi’s unbuttoned shirt, revealing more of his pale chest for your eyes to devour. “I want you. Can you tell?”

You tenderly press a finger to your aching core, shuddering and collapsing into him. Your hips buck into your finger, unable to control yourself from wanting to sink your fingers into yourself.

Your head is buried against his neck, panting for breath against his collar. It’s almost painful how you clench around nothing and your body yearns for him to fill that void. Your finger drags along your slit, collecting the leaking arousal and massaging your folds.

“This is for you, Yoongi,” you murmur breathlessly, bringing your finger back up into view, watching as the dim light reflects the wetness of your finger. “Make love to me, tell me you love me and press tender kisses onto my skin or fuck me until you’re satisfied, ruin me. Have your way with me, Yoongi.”

For the first time he speaks, shallow breaths and gravelly tone, “Are you sure this is what you want?”

“Yes,” you practically moan, breathing in his minty scent. Your hands tangle into his hair, pulling his lips closer to yours, feeling the heat radiating from your skin from the proximity. You want him to kiss you, touch you, and make you his. Your hips move against his hardened cock, feeling the rough fabric of his pants press against your core and sending delicious waves of pleasure through you.

He finally gives in, connecting your lips in a heated fervor. Your hands fall to his shirt, making quick work on unbuttoning it and pushing the shirt off. As your hands roam his chest, his hand glides down your stomach, cold metal rings pressing into your skin, cooling your scorching skin.

You feel a tingle of excitement as his hand continues to travel lower until his thumb meets your clit. “O-Oh,” you gasp, clutching his shoulders as he begins drawing slow circles.

“Feel good?” Yoongi smirks, listening to your heavenly whimpers and moans. You choke out a yes as the tip of his finger prods at your entrance. He lazily drags his finger up and down your drenched folds until you’re begging for him.

“Yoongi,” you whine, drawing out the syllables of his name. “Please just do something.”

Your arousal makes it easy for him to slip one finger into you, giving you barely any time to adjust before moving it back out and ramming into you again until you can feel his ring at your core. The touch of metal against your entrance has you clenching around his finger. Your screams echo throughout the room and only encourage him to go faster.

He moves at a quick pace, letting your hips move against him to match the fervor of his thrusts. “Do you want another one?”

“Yes, yes! Yoongi, please,” you cry out. You can feel a tightness beginning to build in your abdomen, threatening to explode. You just want more of what he’s giving you, greedily rocking your hips into his fingers as he gives you exactly what you want. Two fingers stretch you and curl against your walls while he kisses down your chest.

You’re reaching your breaking point as your legs begin to tremble and your moans become uneven pants. Just a little further… and suddenly his fingers leave you empty as he pulls back. You whine from the loss and beg for him to continue, “N-No… why did you stop?”

“Not yet, love,” he orders, quieting your whimpers with deft kisses and laying you down on the mattress. “I want to be inside you.”

His words send another wave of arousal through you and make you whimper, pulling him into another heated kiss. Your head sinks on to the pillows as he kneels between your legs, lips and tongue moving against yours while undoing his pants and pulling them off to discard on the floor. His cock stands proudly and ready to sink into your soaking heat. He pulls back from the kiss to gaze at your red, puckered lips and frenzied hair splayed out on his pillows.

Your hands intertwine with his as he gives you a reassuring look, asking, “Are you ready?”

You nod and he wastes no time aligning his hardened tip with your folds. As he pushes into your throbbing core, a moan spills from your lips and you dig your fingers into his knuckles, leaving crescent marks on his skin. He barely notices the sting in his hands while he buries himself deeper into you.

“Gods you’re so perfect,” he groans, dropping his head on to your neck to mark the untouched flesh with shades of lavender and rose.

He begins thrusting into you, pulling out all the way and then one swift snap of the hips back into you. As your body writhes with pleasure underneath Yoongi and his unrelenting pace, you arch into him and let your breasts press against his chest.

“More,” you plead, spreading your legs closer to your chest, allowing him to hit your sweet spot. Your toes begin to curl and the familiar coil in your stomach returns. His finger finds your sensitive clit again, roughly rubbing the bundle of nerves until you come. “A-Ah, Yoongi!” You cry.

“Good girl,” he praises, loving the way you clench around him as you orgasm.

You lie limp on the bed as he continues thrusting into you, getting overly sensitive, groaning as his fingers absentmindedly draw circles on your clit. “Y-Yoongi,” you moan.

“Just a little more, love.” Yoongi removes his hand from your abused clit and pushes himself into you faster. One more quick thrust and he comes undone inside you with a breathy groan, drenching your walls.

Yoongi slowly pulls out of you, letting the gush of both your highs leak out onto the bed and falls to your side, breathing deeply as he grabs your waist and engulfs you into a hug.

You both lie on the bed, listening to one another catch their breath and relive the feeling over and over.

“Stay with me.” Comes the longing whisper.

The arm around your waist tightens as Yoongi pulls you closer to his chest. He fears the uncertain future without you and can see only one solution. Stay with him—here in the Underworld—where life might not flourish, but you’ll be together and he promises to ensure your happiness forever, no matter the sacrifice.

To stay with him means you will never see your mother again, no longer free to roam Olympus with Taehyung glued to your side, but it also means forever with the man you love. The decision pulls you between Heaven and Hell—stay or go. The way he lovingly strokes your hair and watches as you make your decision, willing to accepting whatever answer, moves you to speak.

“I’ll stay.”

The two of you get dressed without another word uttered and find yourselves in front of the sacred tree where Yoongi plucks one of the ripe fruit off its branches. Six red seeds fall into your hand and you can already taste the bitterness of them as you slowly raise your hand to your mouth.

The bittersweet flavor of each seed erupts on your tongue and your fate is sealed. You’re forever bound to this land and him—to be his bride and queen of the Underworld. From this moment forewarn, he is no longer alone in the suffocating darkness, no longer searching for solace in isolation. It wasn’t him who rescued you from the shallows of Styx, instead, it was you, who entered his land and brought light along the way forever changing his bleak world.

“Gods, I love you with my entire being,” he declares, sweeping you into a tender kiss. “Thank you for saving me.”

The coldest winter on Earth brought famine as another month passed without you and your mother continued to grieve, crops died out and more humans began to starve. The dead began to trickle down into the darkness at an alarming rate and it didn’t go unnoticed by Yoongi or the other gods on Olympus.

While Yoongi pretended to ignore the trouble he had caused, he kept his promise of making you happy. He brought you to the poppy fields whenever you asked, allowed you to rule at his side which meant he was more lenient about letting souls go, and kissed you every night while senselessly thanking you over and over.

On Olympus, Helios had finally revealed he’d known where you’ve been the entire time and it didn't surprise Taehyung that Yoongi had lied to him months ago when he first visited frantically asking for your whereabouts. Your mother was furious at this revelation, demanding someone retrieve you from the depths of hell.

After a long bargain between Yoongi and his brother, king of the gods, they came upon a decision which lead to Taehyung inevitably bringing you back to Earth despite your heart-wrenching tears and cries, begging not to be separated from Yoongi.

For six long and arduous months, you would reside on Earth with your mother and she promised not to bring another deadly winter for the mortals. In that time, you’d play with the nymphs again and wander the great halls of Olympus with Taehyung by your side, all the while wishing you were somewhere else—with someone else.

As the days of Summer came to an end and lonesome nights became longer, Yoongi eagerly awaits for you to return home once again.

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whitefirewillow · 4 years

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Love Like Yours Day 7

Hello, hello, hello!

Day 7 of @lovelikeyoursfest is here!

For this prompt I focused on another sweet moment with my apprentice and Asra, and as for a romantic trope, I went with a rather different version of the “Getting Stuck in an Elevator” trope. The elevator in this case is a cave, and I like to imagine this taking place before the plague arrived in Vesuvia.

I hope you all have a splendid and beautiful day today! Stay safe and bright everybody! My Commissions are open too!

May 23: Play it Again, Sam

1606 Words

“Asra, shouldn’t we be heading back? We have to open the shop early tomorrow.”

“We’ll head back before the hour gets too late, but I’ve been waiting all week to show you what I found.”

A knowing smile crossed Siarrah’s face as she crossed her arms and raised a curious brow in Asra’s direction.

“Is this the ‘surprise’ I overheard you talking to Faust about? You’ve been more energetic than usual these past few days, so I had a feeling something was up.” Siarrah commented as a purple head poked out of Asra’s shirt collar.

Love a surprise! Faust cheered as she positioned herself around Asra’s shoulders.

“Maybe,” Asra replied with a smirk. “I know you’re going to love it though, Siarrah. We’re almost there.”

He continued to lead her deeper into the forest. The evening sun’s light passed through the masses of leaves above them and warmed their skin. Around them, the forest’s inhabitants moved about to find their last meal for the day before returning to their nests and burrows for a night’s rest. Birds passed over Asra and Siarrah’s heads from above and tilted their heads this way and that as they observed the two magicians approach a cave mouth set into the cliffside.

Asra paused outside the cave’s entrance and turned to Siarrah to see her reaction. He was rather amused by her look of perplexity mixed with the childlike curiosity and drive for exploration that he admired in her.

“A cave?” She quipped with interest as she looked to Asra for a form of confirmation to her question.

“It’s what’s inside the cave that I want to show you,” Asra said as he beckoned her to follow him.

Explore! Faust said excitedly. Asra lowered his arm to the cave’s cool floor, allowing Faust to slither off of him.

“Alright, be safe Faust, you’ll know where to find us,” Asra called after her as she took off. “Shall we?”

Siarrah nodded and the two of them began to traverse the inner network of the cave. As they traveled further in, Siarrah created an orb of light in her hand so they could safely travel through the dark and rocky terrain. After a few minutes, Asra stopped at a fork in the path. Siarrah raised the light to try to see down the two tunnels, but nothing could be discerned from where they stood.

“Feeling adventurous?” Asra inquired, turning to Siarrah with an inquisitive glance.

“I suppose, why?”

“I’ve used this tunnel before,” Asra gestured to the path on the right. “But I haven’t tried this one yet.” He said, gesturing to the tunnel on the left. “Faust traveled through this one and she told me it’ll still lead us to our destination, but who knows what we’ll find on the way there.”

Siarrah scrutinized each tunnel for a moment before looking at Asra. The right tunnel was, for the most part, clear. The left tunnel looked roughly the same with the exception that ivy vines hung over its entrance to where they would only have to duck or part them to avoid them. The light wasn’t strong enough to see where they started nor was she particularly worried about it anyway. She shrugged and nodded to Asra.

“Left tunnel it is,” Siarrah said.

Asra smiled and eagerly led the way inside, ducking under the vines to avoid them. Siarrah chose to part them, enjoying the feel of the leaves against her skin as she entered the cave, but something snapped above her and she paused as a thick woven strand of the ivy fell through her hand. Something rumbled above her and to her dismay, the cavern’s ceiling where they had just been standing began to crumble.

The rockfall was coming in their direction, and Siarrah and Asra dove further into their chosen tunnel. They covered their heads as the tunnel’s entrance was sealed behind them, and only when everything fell silent did Asra and Siarrah turn to see the damage done.

Siarrah resummoned her light and the two magicians examined their predicament.

“Well, that’ll be the last time I pull too hard on a vine in a cave.” Siarrah chastised herself in a poor attempt to make light of the danger she had unintentionally created.

“Are you alright?” Asra asked worriedly, looking her over for any scrapes or bruises.

“I’m fine, what about you?”

“I think we managed to go unscathed this time around,” Asra concluded with a smile.

“Do you think we can clear it out?” Siarrah questioned as she looked over the rubble again.

“I don’t want to risk unsettling the rock again,” Asra admitted. “Besides, I think we’ll have a better chance of getting out through the other tunnel.”

Siarrah nodded before her eyes widened with worry. “Do you think Faust is okay?”

Asra gently placed a hand on her shoulder to steady her panic. “I’m sure she’s fine. I would have felt something otherwise.”

Siarrah sighed with relief and gave Asra a grateful, but sheepish smile. “I’m...sorry for causing that cave in.”

“Siarrah, we didn’t know the ivy was holding up the unstable rock. It’s not your fault. Now come on, I still have that surprise for you that will make you forget about the cave in.” Asra reassured as he led Siarrah through the tunnel. She followed close behind him with her light in hand, and it wasn’t long before they emerged into an open space that was lit by the setting sun.

Siarrah gasped as she took in the beauty of the serene pond that was home to delicate little lotus blossoms and large lily pads. A waterfall flowed from an unseen river in the back of the cavern opening into the pool. In the pond’s center floated a stunning lotus that had its petals closed.

“Oh, Asra…” Siarrah’s heart swelled as she took in the sight.

“I knew you’d like it.”

“Like it? It’s beautiful, I love it.”

“This isn’t even the best part,” Asra commented.

“There’s more?” Siarrah asked incredulously. Asra laughed.

“We just need to wait for it to get dark, which shouldn’t be too long now.” The last of the sun’s rays were already beginning to fade out of the cavern and the darkness of night was beginning to settle in.

“What are we waiting for?” She pressed curiously.

“You’ll see,” Asra replied as he guided her to sit beside him at the pond’s edge.

The two magicians made small talk as they waited for the sun to set behind the horizon, and they didn’t have long to wait. When the hour came, Asra excitedly warned Siarrah and gave her a bright smile.

“Siarrah, concentrate on your magic.”

“What for?” She inquired, tilting her out of curiosity.

“Trust me,” Was Asra’s simple reply.

Nodding, Siarrah closed her eyes and steadied her breath, concentrating on the flow of her magic throughout her body. She could feel Asra’s aura beside her own, and the feel of her magic flowing in her body mirrored the sound of the waterfall on the opposite side of the cave. A gentle hand lightly shook her shoulder and a delightful shiver ran up her back as she heard Asra whisper in her ear.

“Open your eyes.” She did so, and another gasp of awe escaped her lips.

The cave had been completely transformed. Pink, blue, and violet hues painted and illuminated the cavern’s walls. Lizards, insects, plants, and fish glowed and danced in the sparkling water and swam along the rocky walls or through the pond. The lotus in the pond’s center had bloomed and magic flowed from it like a fountain. Mushrooms and crystals protruding from the rock were bright with an ethereal luminescence that all left Siarrah completely breathless and entranced with their gorgeousness.

Beside her, even Asra looked awestruck as he took in the unbelievable sight before him.

“Siarrah, all of this is your magic.”

“I did this?” She turned to him in bewilderment. “How do you know that?”

“I can feel your magic flowing through this cave, and the cave is reacting to it,” Asra replied.

“You knew the cave could do this?”

“Not at first, but I discovered it with my own magic by accident. When I did I knew I had to show you, and see if the cave would react to your magic too, and I find that I’m just as surprised as you are.” His smile was just as captivating as the magic that swirled around them.

Pretty! A familiar voice announced. Siarrah and Asra looked down to see Faust curled up between them observing the colorful light fish that jumped out of the water.

“How long have you been there?” Asra laughed. Faust flicked her tongue at him in response. He suddenly stood and slipped off his shoes as he approached the water.

“What are you doing?” Siarrah asked. He looked over his shoulder at her as he stood knee-deep in the water. He extended a hand to her with a warm smile on his face.

“Would you care to join me for a swim?”

Siarrah’s eyes widened at the thought of swimming with Asra in a magic pond. She smiled as she carefully stood, feet already bare, and followed him out into the water. The magic in the cave seemed to welcome her as she took Asra’s hand in hers. Their responsibilities to the magic shop and the cave in were long forgotten as they spent the evening together under the watchful eyes of Faust and the cave’s magic, holding on to one another tightly as if nothing could ever separate them from this tender moment together.

#lovelikeyours2020 #asra alnazar #the arcana apprentice #the arcana faust #the arcana #commissions open #writing

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hectorandvarian · 5 years

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Review on the second series of the third season "Return of the King".

Greetings to all who see this post. With you Hectorian, and today I decided to do a review. Due to the fact that the first half of the third season gave us not too much information for the theory, I will often alternate them with such reviews of the series. And first I will say a brief opinion - "Return of the King" is definitely one of the best series of the first half of the season. It's just a pleasure for me to see Edmund again and connect with the Dark Kingdom.

First, as always, I'll start with the positive: (a reminder that the numbering of "pros" depends on their appearance in the series, not on their significance to me)

1) Stubbington brothers Storyline

I was really pleasantly surprised at how the line of villains was shown here. The brothers were never "star" villains, but nevertheless. The motive for killing Eugene because of humiliation from other bandits is very original. And despite the lack of clever moves, Stubbington's plan was quite straightforward and cruel. And in the end these characters I even liked it more than all the rest of the series.

2) Rapunzel's actions as Temporary Queen.

It is because of this series and understand what the growth of the character. Remember the insecure girl who was afraid of the crowd and could not make clear decisions? Forget. Now Rapunzel is confident, finds a language with the inhabitants of his state and even gives orders to the Guard. In General, it seems that Rapunzel for a few weeks of his reign just on the head beat Frederick! She's so good!

3) my God, what have Edmund the beautiful horse! It also had to try the design is almost a background character! Definitely worthy of respect.

4) Eugene's Storyline.

"Return of the King" is one of the few (almost the only) series in the third season that focuses on Eugene. Here he is not just a clown or a minor character. He is the Central figure. And his conflict with his father can be understood. He is still a stranger to him, and besides, he wants Eugene to behave exactly as he sees it. And although Eugene is sometimes too rough with Edmund, I'm glad that the turn with "the Dark Prince" has not been forgotten and has developed.

5) Edmund - you are my king!

I adore Edmund! He is a very unusual character, combining a good-natured father who just wants warmth from his own son, and an incredibly experienced soldier and cunning King. After all, despite his "illness", he managed not to reveal all the cards at once. And Yes, speaking of "illness." It was in this series that the strangeness of Edmund's behavior was more apparent. These 25 years alone have not passed without a trace - the Dark King not only talks to himself, he even finds it difficult to establish contact with his son. And, nevertheless, have him simply huge and good heart of, he very likes his son despite nor on that, and so personally I him give an award "the Best father in this series!"

6) Series of very the beautiful on locations.

Usually in the third season use already old seats in Corona or same nothing not remarkable forests and grasslands. But here we see a new place, and damn it, I like it!

7) Eugene and Edmund finally become family!

God, I was glad when I found out the two of them were going to get along. Yes, echo modicum and obviously, but would still pleased! Some will say, "Well, they started to be friends just because of the book?" But in my experience, Yes, sometimes people just need a common interest, so that they clung to each other and began to become friends. And Yes, my headcanon come true! Edmund was sending Eugene "gifts" from the Dark Kingdom, and one of those gifts was probably a book about Flynn Ryder!

8) Bringing us to the wedding from a short cartoon.

Yes, for someone it will be a minus, but personally I find in it positive sides. The series does not forget about this part of the story, and brings us to it. There are two things that happen in this series that do this: Eugene's forgiveness of the Stubbington Brothers, after all, they are the same family as Edmund and Eugene, as well as the wedding sash. I am glad that at least in this way Edmund will have a connection with one of the most important events in his son.

9) Cassandra is not forgotten!

This is very good! The line of the main antagonist (although Cassandra can not be called a "villain" in the full sense of the word) is not forgotten and even Vice versa-is undergoing changes. It was a surprise to me that Cassandra could not control her powers, and it makes me feel sorry for her - life is too unfair to her. And that voice at the end, it gives me the creeps. It's really intimidating, especially looking at a terrified Cass.

Conclusion: This is my one of favorite series in this season! Yes, I turned a blind eye to the cons, but even if you accept them, it does not change the fact that the series turned out very good. That's fine with me. Thanks to the creators for what you have not forgotten about the turn of the series "Destinies collide".

#tangled spoilers #tangled #tangled the series #tts #rapunzels tangled adventure #tangled season 3 #tts edmund #tts eugene #tts rapunzel #tts cassandra #rta cassandra #rta eugene #rta spoilers #return of the king

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mxvladdy · 3 years

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Forgotten Affections: Mammon

Here is Part Two of @marymaryroo 's request!

This one used more of my True forms ideas so if you want some more contexts here is Mammon's Link

Hope you like!

Sometimes they forget that to you, magic can be a volatile and dangerous.

Part Two of Three: Mammon

TW: Gore and slight body horror

His plans are not stupid. No matter what his brothers thought or said. He was always calculating, always thinking and scheming. Sometimes his plans were fast and spontaneous, some do get the better of him. But risks were always a part of the games he plays. The hazards are just as an addictive high as the rewards he strove for. Mammon knew his plans could go sideways, but he never cared. When he failed he just would try again. Variables changed on a dime and he knew how to handle that. Life moves fast but he always moves faster. Until he couldn’t.

The plan this time was foolproof. Everything had been in place, or so he thought. He ran a tight ship with his informants and an even tighter ship with his court. He anticipated everything. He just can never predict you.

You weren’t supposed to be here. Why were you here! You should have been at school!

Of course, the witches saw you as a threat. They thought he was trying to underhand them once again. They weren’t wrong obviously. But he would never put you in harm's way to get what he wanted. Seeing you here startles him, startles all of them. While the shock of your face showing up where it didn’t belong slows his reaction time, it increases the witches. Their spells move with blinding speed, out-pacing him by mere seconds as he tries to get to you. The spells hit you with a wet crunch, flinging you across the room. He watches in horror as your body flops like a marionette cut from it’s strings. He catches you scooping you up to his chest before hitting the concert hard. He skids along the cold warehouse floor hiss when his heat cracks hard on the metal of a stack of crates.

It hurt, but he couldn’t give less of a damn. He didn’t give a shit about the black blood trickling from his brow or the crack in his beloved glasses. He had one thing on his mind, you. You were still and loose in his arms. He saw no blood, but something wasn’t right. His pact is alight with pain, flaring and itching as he panics something wasn’t right with his master and his pact couldn’t locate it.

The next few moments in time freeze around him as he moves faster than he ever has in his life. The city and realm are brief flashes in his mind's eyes as he blinks, he just had to keep you safe. He takes you to the only place he knows you will be safe. It was the safest place in the kingdom for him, and it would be for you too.

The cave is cold. An eternal shadow coats every part of the large cavern, it had been a while since he had visited his hoard. His greatest treasure now sleeps in his bedroom and shines more brightly than even his most precious stones. Yet, now you were as cold as the jewels he once coveted. He doesn’t remember shedding his human skin but he doesn’t care using his many mismatched and uneven wigs to move you to his nest.

He tucks you into the silks and wool sheets lining his bed. Bending closer he nuzzles your arm. His many broken and scarred beaks picked up on the fetid odor of tainted magic seeping from your pores. He can’t place all the damage done to you but it is more than he knew what to do with. He was no practiced healer like Asmodeus or learned in medicine like Satan. No, he didn’t have that, but he was yours, and you were his to protect. So he does what he can through his pact, leeching some of the poison from your body into his. Getting comfortable beside you he shuffles you closer into the remaining soft down feathers on his belly. This close he can feel your frail heartbeat.

The hours move on and you still do not stir. He hates himself for this. How could he be so useless? You trust him, he was your first man he was supposed to be better than this. In this moment Mammon regrets every class he ever ditched and the class he slept through in the Celestial realms. He was never good with magic but perhaps if he had just paid attention he might have been able to help you better right now. Whatever toxins the combination of spells had embedded you rolled in his stomachs mixing with his guilt. He takes it all powering through so you could rest.

You stir sometime in the wee hours of the morning, of what day he doesn’t know and he doesn’t care. His many eyes never leave you as you wake. “Mammon?” You slur, mind still groggy with sleep and the residual effects of whatever it was that hit you. He clicks his many beaks asynchronously in delight, the chatter of bone on bone is raucous.

Beside himself, he turns back to his human form in a dizzying blur of feathers and gold light. “Babe!” He snatches you up kissing every bit of your skin he can find. “I am so sorry. I fucked up-you weren’t supposed to be there. How in the hells did you find me?” He pulls back to make eye contact with you. Your eyes are wide with shock. “What’s the matter? Why are ya lookin’ at me like that?”

You looked confused, eyes darting around you as you clutch the furs and blankets closer to your bare chest. “Mammon. What...what’s going on? Where am I?” You glance down at yourself seeing how battered and bruised you were. You look at him, the confusion now replaced with unadulterated terror. “Mammon...what did you do?”

“Ti?” He shakes his head momentarily, losing his grip on your shared tongue. “Babe-I don’t understand.” He tries to touch you. You push away, scrambling back and tumbling from his nest. Mammon hears your heart rate pick up, hammering like a helpless beast when it knows it's cornered. But where was the threat? You were safe here, tucked away with him. He feels numb, disbelief locking his jaw and tightening his shoulders.

You couldn’t think he was the threat...right?

“C-come on,” He blinks back tears. “This ain’t funny. Don’t you remember me?” He reaches out for you beckoning for you to come back to his nest. There is an odd and sharp twinge in his pact and he hisses. You mark weights him down, locking him in place from coming any closer to your trembling form. You were stopping him from comforting you. You were scared of him.

“Mammon.” You shudder holding the blankets close and back away till your back hit the rough stone wall. “You’re scaring me.”

“An’ your scaring me! You promised not to play cruel jokes on me.” His head bobbles inhumanely, sapphire and gold eyes glowing in the low moon light.

He smells the sour tang of sweat blooming on your skin, his sense locking on the bob of your throat. He mimics the dry clicking of it as you try to swallow enough spit to speak. “When did I do that?” You croak. He rears his head back. The words strike him hard. You curl away from his screeching arms raised for a blow that he would never do.

“Date? You, us!” He barks, voice coming sharper and shriller in desperation. “Our late night drives? Us...movie nights alone at the theater. Just last night?” He implores searching your gaze for something. Anything!

You shake your head clutching your brow. “I’m sorry, I don’t...” His caw of rage rattles his chest. His many heads emerge again to echo his cries. He shakes them in disbelief. “Mammon! Listen to me, please! Just-just take us home-”

“No!” You flinch back, spit coating your upraised arms. “You are my human!” Mammon’s eyes flash in warning. If you didn’t remember him then the others could try to take you away from him. He would never let you go. Your scream of terror is swept up in a flurry of wings and plumage as he disappears back into the night.

He doesn’t return home to the House. He takes flight and heads east, the winds and forest coming alive with the sounds of his legion taking to the sky with him. Search. Find. He orders images of the coven and what they did to you flashes in his mind to his murder. Those mages did this, and they would fix this. He travels on the wind ignoring the searing pain of your mark. You are calling him to return, ordering him to. The pain only fuels his desire to hunt.

He will have to be fast, for your sake. While his cave had plenty of fresh water and food for you he knew you. You were that spark in the night, that shock to the system that kept him going. You help him keep his head up high. You would try to get down from his nest, or try the other brothers before long.

His council found the witches one by one, picking off the weaker members while leaving the elder witches to him. He barrels through the punishment of breaking a pacts to extract whatever he could from them before his talons find their throats. The kills got more and more savage as each hunt turns up nothing.

On the fifth day of his hunting, Lucifer finds him. His world turns into a blur of black mist and boney fingers as his brother throws him violently from the gurgling body of his last victim. Empty eye sockets bore into Mammon's dazed faces. “Where…” Lucifer opens his broken maw, jaw creaking as his voice gurgles out. Mammon ignores him screeching and clawing at the hand pinning him to the floor. The fingers begin to close slowly, choking off his air until he is forced to revert to his other form, dark chest gasping for air. “Wheerrree…” Black smoke fills his lungs, the cold radiating off of Lucifer’s exposed bone burns his skin.

Mammon hisses back, throwing caution to the wind and landing a quick kick to his brother’s deteriorating nasal bone. “Mine!” He groans, head filling with static. “They are mine...even if they don’t remember me.” The fingers around his throat loosen before pulling back. Mammon coughs holding his throat as he struggles to his knees. “You can’t have them.” He wipes his face, cleaning off blood and tears. Devil’s when did he start crying?

“Mammon.” Lucifer tries again, flowing closer. “No one wants to take them away. I want to make sure they are safe.” Safe? Of course they were safe! The Great Mammon was watching over them, there was nowhere safer. Right? But there was safety in numbers too, what was a murder of crows or a flock of night creatures if they did not stick together. Mammon pushes his palms hard into his eyes till light spots of color irrupted behind his eyelids.

Clarity and exhaustion caught up to him all at once. “I messed up. I messed up so bad, μέντορας.” He looks at the corpse of the last witch. They were the final witness to what had happened the night he got you hurt. His last chance to help you is gone, splattered across the pavement. “Λυπάμαι. Λυπάμαι, αδελφός.” The dam breaks, all the suffering, and confusion of the past week overwhelms him in that moment, robbing him of coherent thought.

Warm human hands grip his shoulders squeezing him tight to center him. “Calm yourself. Remember how I taught you?” he nods, grimy head bobbing through a hiccup. “Good-good. In through your nose and out your mouth. Yes, just like that. Again.” Once punishing hands now wrap around him surrounding him in a sea of black silk and soft hair. It is of little comfort to him now, but Mammon feels the invisible hands clutching his hearts loosen. Lucifer does too and brings his brother out of the crook of his neck to look him over. “I want to help both of you. But, I need to know what is going on.”

To say Lucifer was displeased was an understatement. He couldn’t fault Mammon for his outburst, while he could not say he would do the same he understood what fragile hearts his sibling has. Mammon would never intentionally harm you, but as he pleads his case Lucifer began to worry more and more for your well-being. Mammon wasn’t going back to check on you, that was very clear by the pattern of violence he had marked around the eastern prefecture. Mammon’s recklessness had the potential to get you hurt, and he could not have that.

“Take me to them.” Lucifer raises, helping Mammon up from his knees.

“Can’t.”

“Mammon.” His patience grows thin.

“I can’t,” Mammon repeats himself, firmer this time. The magic he placed on his nest was the last that he had. Having a demon as strong as his brother coming in would break the barrier beyond his repair. “I swear to you I will bring them back, now, back to the house. Just please...I can’t take you.”

Lucifer sighs but relents. Mammon doesn’t swear often if not at all. With care Lucifer takes the back of Mammon’s head and brings his forehead to touch his. “Promise?” Mammon coos softly showing his neck in submission. “Thank you, now go retrieve them. I will clean up this mess.”

Mammon returns to his nest to find you sleeping again. You were clothed and freshly bathed, bits of food nearby and used cutlery at your side. He doesn’t approach fearful of how you would react after last time. He kicks a pile of gold by the side of you instead. You react immediately, lurching up in bed. Something shiny glints in your hand and he laughs. The silver dagger gleams in his direction. “Mammon?” You blink in the low light squinting hard to make out his form. “Is that you?”

“Of course,” He steps closer, arms relaxed at his side. “No one else can come up here, you know. Or, I guess you did at one point.” You lower the knife but keep your eyes trained on him still hesitant.

“Are you ok?” Getting a better look at him you frown. He was a mess, disheveled and grungy. Dark viscous matter cling to his once vibrant white hair clumping it and sticking to the hard edges of his face. You didn’t want to know what it was, but you had your suspicions.

“Yes.” He said, tone clipped and stressed. “Come on, let’s get you back.” He holds out a grimy hand to you.

You look at it. “Are we really?” With how he left you you weren’t sure if this was a trap or not. For all his boisterous claims and vibrato you never thought he would actually go through with anything. Now you weren’t sure.

Mammon nods, waiting for you to make up your mind. You take his hand after a few minutes of contemplation. Your touch was so familiar yet foreign all at once. It was as warm and soft as he remembered it to be, but that was it. You were hesitant with your touch, fingers barely resting in his scabbed and scarred over palm. “What happened?” You turn his hand over seeing how the cuts and bruises continued.

“Nothing.” Nothing of worth any way. “Come, Lucifer is waiting for us.” That makes you pick up your pace and it chafes him.

When you both land in the outside garden of the house Mammon let’s you go. Rushing over to Lucifer’s side, you almost use him as a shield between the two of you. You grab at his brother’s pressed suit jacket asking a rapid fire slew of questions. Mammon relaxes only a fraction noting how Lucifer has yet to touch you out of respect for him.

Lucifer let’s you run out of steam before speaking. “I believe I know what has happened but let’s get you checked out first, and Mammon.” He looks over to his hunched brother. “Go wash up. I’ll be with you as soon as I can.” Dismissed, Mammon slinks off to his room without a fight and empty handed.

With a clean bill of health, minus the apparent memory loss you sit in Diavolo’s office nursing a cup of tea. You look at your companions on either side of you. You, Solomon, and Lucifer sit on Dia’s large couch while the prince paces in front of you. The latter shaking with rage.

“I’m not mad.” You say again looking at the men around you. Mad wasn’t the right word for the feelings you have right now. You were angry at the situation and how Mammon handled it, yeah. But now you were more confused and fearful for his sake. Even if you didn’t recall the particulars of your relationship, what you did remember was a warm and friendly mix of emotions and companionship. He had always been a good friend and steadfast ally after the initial rocky start. Could you have been more? Something blooms in your chest.

“Irregardless,” Dia turns to you, face grim. “He put you in immediate danger and then abducted you. If Lucifer hadn’t tracked him down you still would be missing.” You nod your mouth closing on a rebuttal. He wasn’t wrong. “And,” He continues. “This matter now has more repercussions then just you and your lost memories I’m afraid.”

“That’s right.” Solomon butts in. “The covens are in an uproar. Seats have been usurped and the power imbalance now is reaching dangerous degrees. They want blood.”

Diavolo scoffs, cursing low in infernal. “Mammon needs to be reprimanded, Lucifer.”

Lucifer stiffens next to you. You hear the soft creaking of his leather gloves as he clenches his fists tight. “Is this not enough?” He leans forward imploringly. “Let me handle his punishment. You know I am fair with it.”

“He wiped out the entire East coven. This will take years for me to handle diplomatically. The council of Magi wants justice, and I cannot blame them. Mammon broke contracts and peace agreements.”

His words go over your head but the implications were very clear. “I’m so sorry.” You bow low in your seat. This was your fault. You should have taken a brother with you to retrieve Mammon that night. While trapped in Mammon’s treasure trove you had plenty of time to go over that night’s events and try to figure out why Mammon had said those things to you.

You remember that day clearly. Going to classes, turning in homework and rounding up the brother’s before they got into mischief. You run down that night the best you can too. You remember texting the group that you would bring Mammon home in time for the last meeting of the day, then the burning sensation of spells hitting you and bright flashes of light before waking up next to him in his nest. You remember him, but those nights he told you about and his feelings he shared with you were gone. Nothing there but black space.

Solomon’s hand on your shoulder breaks your musing. “This isn’t your fault. I’m sure we can settle this out over time.” The two demons in the room nod, faces unreadable. With that Solomon nods, getting to his feet. “I believe the time for humans in the room is over, shall I escort you home, or would you like to stay at Purgatory?”

“Home please.” The week's events land heavy on your shoulders. You wanted to sleep in your bed surrounded by familiar comforts. “I’m over this demon shit.” Solomon doesn’t even try to hide his snort.

“There is never a dull moment with you around, huh?” He chuckles, combing a hand through his hair once he gets to the front door. You shoot him an exasperated look. “Relax. I promise we will get this all set to rights...if that is what you wish.”

“I have a choice?”

Solomon raises a pale brow. “Yes. I do believe I can fix this with enough time and preparation. While Mammon had the right idea going to find the root of the problem and there for the spell, he did it all ass backwards. Once I get in contact with the spirits of those he murdered I believe I can get you back together again. You do want that don’t you?”

Did you?

The question perplexes you while you crawl into bed. Did you want something that you didn’t even know you had? The Mammon that had greeted you when you woke up was like nothing you could remember and had planted a seed of doubt within you. What about him had you fall for him in the first place? Would you remember all of this if Solomon was able to fix it? Could this break in your memory change how you felt for him? Ugh-why was magic always so difficult…

You are left to your own devices for a while allowed to stay in from work and school while you recover. The brothers dote over you in their own ways, all expertly navigating around any question you had about Mammon’s whereabouts. Only Beel gave you any useful information.

“He’s...working off his debt.” Cryptic, but at least you knew he was alive. With the brother’s all being tight lipped you took matters into your own hands. Your phone was gone, no doubt shattered on the floor of the warehouse when you fell. You should have had a new one by now, but Lucifer seemed to be hiding it from you like Mammon.

The door to Mammon’s room is sealed tight, no handle or seam to be found. The loud hum of magic radiates from the door making it impossible for you to open. Even his seat at the council was empty. So much secrecy, you were beginning to believe you were being punished as well.

Good thing you were too pig headed to care.

Cornering Lucifer wasn’t as hard as you expected it to be. He very well could have been waiting for you to jump him by this point. He looked tired and drained, his mark, like Mammon’s, was dark and silent on your skin. “You’ve been avoiding me.”

“Yes. Though, as you can see, I’ve grown tired of it.” He waves at himself leaning on the wall just outside of the kitchens. “What do you want?”

“Why can’t I find anything?”

“Any what?”

“If I was dating Mammon wouldn’t there be, I don’t know evidence of it?” There was nothing in your room, and you couldn’t get into Mammon’s. The other’s had been of no help. It was gone, as if by magic. “Is this your doing?”

Lucifer pinches his brow with a grimace. “Yes, and no. Mammon asked me to.”

“What! Why?”

“He heard what Solomon said to you. That you are unsure if you want those memories back. This is your out.” A gift as Mammon likes to think of it, the last one Mammon can give you. Even if it kills him, his brother still thinks of your comforts.

“Don’t I get a choice?” Lucifer snorts eyeing you.

“It is one of the very few strategic advantages of being human. Have you made one?”

Yes? No? “Well, I would like to make an educated one! I can’t do that if I can’t even see Mammon now can I? I’m clear headed now.”

Lucifer chortles rummaging in his pocket. “Please, the fact that you picked Mammon as the object of your affection clearly shows me you have never thought clearly a day in your life.” He drops something in your hand before turning. “The magic of the door is gone. Just-please be gentle with him. The council has not been kind.” He gives you a final small smile. “You two were happy together, you know.” He leaves you with your new phone in an empty hallway.

You clutch the small device close to your chest, eyes riveted to the screen. Lucifer had backed everything up. Your contacts, calendar dates, assignments, and pictures. You click on your photo gallery. Oh, there were so many pictures of the two of you together. For a moment you hate the you grinning up through the screen. Mammon’s arms wrap around you, his face nestle in your hair as you glow under his attention. He looked serene, eyes closed with a blissful smile peeking out through your locks. The next few photos were very much the same, little dates and windows into a life you wanted to remember. The next few you took were candid photos. Him asleep on his couch stretched out and snoring or in the kitchen trying to do something, and failing.

It was so different from the Mammon you remember and the one you saw so briefly in the cave. Deep down your heart hurts for him, out of sympathy or the echoes of your lost love you weren’t sure, but you wanted that life from the pictures again. You reach his door with a new reinvigorated fire in your belly. You could do this. Mammon would never fall for someone indecisive.

The door opens as quiet as a whisper into a dark room. Stepping in you hold your breath, ears hyper aware of just how dark this place was. You don’t think you’ve ever seen this place without lights on. Mammon didn’t like the dark all that much. The room was quiet too, except for an eerie wet gurgle. “Mammon?”

“Leave.” Deeper into the room a massive black shape moves. “Shouldn’t be here.” You turn to the shape, arms outstretched to guide you through the pitch. “Don’t-” Several large luminous gold eyes lock with you. They are weary and apprehensive. You push forward till your hands touch some feathers and…

“You’re bleeding.”

“It’s fine.” Like hell it was. Ignoring his protest and the slick feel of his blood on your hands you grab for your phone.

“Oh Mammon.” Your stomach twists. In the bright little of your little flashlight you can see only a small bit of his side, but it was shiny with fresh blood, feathers broken and limp from where hands had yanked at them. “Who?”

“The Rite of Equivalency.” A head turns to follow your fingers. He hisses, the feel of your fingers stroking along a raw gash under his upper set of wings burns. “Pound for pound of flesh for that which I took.” His beaks click, sore and irritated, they had not been gentle with their gathering today. His body was worth a lot to witches. His feathers and beak shavings were valuable in potions and on the market. It was the most lenient punishment Lucifer could broker, even if it did literally cost him a limb or two. Your hand goes still on his side, he can feel your small fingers trembling on his hind leg.

“Mammon-this is monstrous.”

The crow chortles swiveling his heads to look at you. “Are we not monsters?” He tries to joke, uncomfortable with your gentle touch now. “Hey- no...please don’t cry.” He sees tears clinging to your eyelashes, your lower lip quivering. He opens a wing to try to wrap it around you but stops gasping in pain. His side was like a live wire, healing bones burning under his thin skin while they mended. He is so tired.

You pick up on his discomfort and move away wiping at your tears. This wasn’t about you right now. “I came to talk about...us and what you overheard between Solomon and I,” His heart rate picks up.

“Lucifer put you up to this.” It wasn’t a question but a simple statement of fact. He had hoped-

You shook your head, brushing his side. “He gave me the option by opening the door, but I wanted to do this. To see you again and talk.” Talk, and get his side of the story, to fill in the pieces of the puzzle until you could get them back yourself. You pull up a few pictures and turn the screen to him. “I want to go back to this. I think I liked being yours.”

#obey me #obey me mammon #tw: body horror #tw: gore #fun request!

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0l1v3juice · 5 years

Text

Departure

Never in my wildest dreams could I have known that I would be granted the opportunity to meet such kind and unique people. I can still remember everything from start to finish, like it just happened yesterday. Even the moments in which I felt consumed by fear, the memory does not fade. I do not think I will ever forget this experience. Then again, I also really do not want to. Who would want to lose any of the memories they have relating to their most cherished relationships, even the ones that hurt or are scary? In the beginning, though, things were neither painful nor scary; things were bleak.

I remember hinting to my friends that we should not leave the village, but of course we would anyway. Whether or not we stayed or left, war would continue to consume our lives and destroy our livelihood. We were far too outnumbered to stand up to either the Alliance or the Horde, so we played an insignificant force in the war as a supplier of food resources. There were a few people here and there who would abandon the village to join the ranks of our oppressors, but the lot of us simply resisted that temptation. We were nothing if not resilient. Our spirits would not be broken by the onslaught of foreign nations declaring war over our own soil. There had been rumors circulating that neighboring villages had driven off all the soldiers from either side that dared to fight on their land, and we used this as our fuel to keep fighting. Eventually, however, one day, we grew weary of the senseless bloodshed.

“There must be a better way to deal with this than to merely ride it out,” I pleaded to my fellow villager.

“When we have the forces to drive them back, we will know. Until then, we must survive. You know in your heart that there is no other way, Hunjun,” she sighed to me.

As much as I did not want to keep hearing it, I knew that she was right. But I was growing more concerned as the days turned to weeks, and weeks to months. Our numbers were dwindling. Some of us who openly opposed the commandeering of land which was already inhabited and cared for ended up paying the price for speaking out - either by harsh physical labor or other means of subordination. Many of us did not survive the transition into forced servitude. We are a gentle race, but we are also determined and persistent. It was difficult to watch so many of us fall to their torture. We simply would not sit idly by in the face of injustice and cruelty. There was nothing just about the war being fought between the two factions, and so we fought back.

To fight back was our downfall, as ill-prepared as we were. Our quiet, peaceful village was not as prepared for battle as it should have been. As our numbers grew smaller and more of our resources were stolen by soldiers, our lives diminished before us, and we lost hope of redemption for our village. Soon it was just Maysam, Toolani, Songxue, Shen, Mao Cung, and me.

“I don’t know how much longer we can live like this,” cried Toolani.

“We are not living, we are surviving. If you want to live, first you have to survive,” Shen counseled her.

“But it has been this way for so long. Could you so easily chide our brothers and sisters out there slaving away for our enemies?” Mao Cung rebuked.

“Mao is right; if surviving and holding out were the answer, there would not be so many of us dead or enslaved!” lamented Songxue.

As the days drew nearer to our eventual decision to escape the prison of our last safe house, discussions like this were not uncommon. Shen was always level-headed, but did not understand that we were dealing with entirely foreign forces. Toolani's parents had been a part of the resistance which was stamped out by the soldiers, and it took more and more of a mental toll on her every day. The prospect of our kin being enslaved on our own land enraged Mao Cung beyond belief, especially as the last remaining member of the family who led the village. Songxue knew not what to do besides mourn our losses. Maysam and I typically remained silent during these discussions, since they usually led to nowhere. But not that day. Maysam interrupted the bickering with one thoughtful question:

“What reason do any of us have to oppose the idea of leaving our forsaken village?”

There was a moment of silence, and Songxue responded first.

“Would we not be abandoning our kin and leaving them to a life of servitude until death?” she remarked.

“Songxue, while it is admirable that you wish to free our brethren, what ability do any of us here have to do so? What makes you feel certain that we would not end up as they have? Should we not carry on a legacy for this village and make our escape before everyone is lost?” Maysam admonished. Songxue lowered her head and nodded in sorrowful understanding.

Mao Cung stewed in his thoughts for a moment before voicing a bothersome detail about Maysam's proposal.

“It's a pretty cowardly thing to do. I know staying here would likely result in our ultimate demise, but in facing our ends with pride, we die with honor. You should like to dishonor the name of our village by cowardly retreating in its dying moments?” he criticized.

Maysam was taken aback by his assertion. She meditated on his sentiments for a few moments before he continued.

“We are not living, we are surviving. We must survive until the very end in order to bestow honor upon our village's name and our own names. What would our ancestors think of us, running away and leaving what they have given us to become ruins? Though our defeat is certain, we still must face it with bravery and pride for our loved ones, do you not agree? Certainly you understand what that means,” Mao Cung finished.

“There is a difference, a fine line between bravery and foolishness, Mao Cung. What good would it do us or our ancestors to wait patiently in our seats for the kiss of death? Brave heroes face certain death when it means a greater good is accomplished. Fools await their demise in the name of the so-called ‘honor’ that comes waiting. There is no honor in senseless bloodshed. There is no honor in this war. I am certain that our ancestors would want us to rebuild their legacy where fertile soil awaits. We cannot change the fates of those we loved and lost, but we can continue living for them. Does that not sound like what you would want, Mao?” Maysam spoke. Mao Cung reflected for a moment before agreeing with the sentiments Maysam expressed. Truly, she was making a groundbreaking decision.

With Maysam's speeches granting reassurance to Toolani and Shen that escape was the right thing to do, it seemed as though we were all in agreement with the idea. Then, I spoke on one important detail.

“Where shall we go?”

Songxue and Mao Cung's eyes fixated on me in confusion, while Shen, Toolani, and Maysam shared a look of insightful despondency. They knew what I meant, and they did not have an answer. No one could have.

“Where shall we escape to? A neighboring village already consumed by the war? What about the dense forests that we can trek through to reach the beaches? Will there not be soldiers arriving on those beaches? What would we do then?”

As I barraged them with question after question, the atmosphere quickly withdrew from hopeful to despairing. It was unintentional, but I refused to welcome hope into my heart again only to have it ripped away. They had all forgotten how prevalent the presence was of those pests we were hiding from. Soldiers were on every beach, constantly arriving with new and improved plans to burn our villages and take our resources. How would we expect to get past them? Daunting as the task seemed, Shen remembered to never lose that hope that I had already lost.

“We are all willing to do whatever it takes to carry on our legacy, so there must be a way,” he proclaimed.

A moment of silence passed before Toolani spoke.

“I may have an idea, but you won't like it,” she told us.

I can still remember the feeling that overcame me when she sighed those words. In my heart, I felt grief - grief that was so strong, I almost thought I had already lost her. I am certain we all knew what she was going to say before she shared her plan with us. Toolani was a very skilled mage, of course her idea would include the use of her talents, likely against the invaders. However, something told me that she would likely not make it with us in our journey onward. It seemed that Toolani was the only one willing to accept the fact that we would not all make it. Before she could continue with the details, Maysam sprung into the conversation.

“No! I will not allow you to put yourself on the line and ultimately die at the hands of these savages! Do you want to end up as the rest of our brothers and sisters have?” Maysam implored Toolani not to go through with it. But Toolani's mind was already made up.

“No, sister, I don’t. And I wish to shield the rest of you from meeting that same fate as well. But I know - I know full well that they will not stop coming. If we are to escape, it must be now. We don't have the luxury of time. We don't have the promise of good fortune. So, I must do everything in my power to protect you all and keep the memory of our beloved village alive. It is my duty. Please, May, let me lead you all to victory,” Toolani calmly spoke.

We all sat in a moment of silence in respect to the bereavement we knew we would be experiencing soon enough. Following shortly after, Toolani shared with us her plan. It was bold and daring, just her style. She had carefully concocted the idea so we would have a means of escape and a length of time to expect for travel away from our home. Toolani really did think of everything.

Though her plan was executed perfectly, it still hurt to say goodbye.

#olive writes things #world of warcraft #my ocs #Hunjun Sweetbreeze #Maysam Wildsong #idk #the others are just kind of made up and not fleshed out really lmaooo #maybe i'll do a part 2?

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yanderehopecounty · 6 years

Text

Bird of Paradise

A Joseph x Deputy (kinda?)

Warnings: none Word Count: 1,449

Montana nights; broad forests teeming with life and cool waters, the waves barely hushed beneath the light of the crescent moon. The low thrum of crickets, a never-ending pulse, joining the swell of nature’s orchestra with an enthusiastic beat. Flickers of illumination beckon through the murk, between wide, thriving tree trunks and lush, green grasses. Curious little beings, creatures who call the wilderness their undeniable home, flit across the winding dirt paths, feral in nature yet desiring closeness to something unknown, something different from itself, something cursed to walk these paths until its utter end.

A lone deputy, starved for civilization and her own space to call home , trudges these woods, ever searching, ever fearful. Ghostly hands rise of their own volition, cascading through the sea of brush as if they could produce what they so painfully desired. The swarms of otherwise friendly lightning bugs part like the Red Sea, making way as if struck by the fear of God, Himself. Her curled, aching fingers grasp at nothing, deprived yet again, and she half wonders if this were all a vicious illusion, gripping her mind like iron shackles tethering her weary soul to this wretched plane of existence.

How long had it been? How long had she wandered?

Time itself seemed to meld together into an unrecognizable amalgamation, the start being her forceful eviction by a horde of men she did not recognize. “Sinner” they had screamed so hatefully, marking it so with angry, white letters on her porch. Weapons raised and a fierce flame burning in their beady, accusatory eyes, they tried to take her but her conviction would not let them. She fled that humble home of hers, the one that housed her precious memories, kept her collected belongings safe and sound, and provided the shelter so necessary to her as a human being. Those times she gazed through the glossy windows, peering out upon the velvety landscape as the sunset cast hues of pink and purple across the darkening sky and the moments spent beneath a woolen blanket, steaming mug of coffee in hand as she reveled in the peaceful mornings, they would be no more. Lost forever, reduced to smoky ash carried off on the unforgiving winds of change as those strange men torched the place behind her retreating form.

She would never forget the lick of heat, lapping at her bare ankles, or the sick crunch of twigs and rock as her soles bared the full brunt of forest debris. If she paused briefly and pressed both eyes shut, she could muster up that feeling all over again. Her skin would prickle with a phantom scorch, warming every inch of bruised and battered flesh to discomfort, spreading a vengeful itch and setting her lungs ablaze. It would become more and more difficult to breathe, her system mimicking a victim of smoke inhalation, a disgustingly wet cough wrenching free from constricted airways.

It consumed her even now as she thrust a stray tree branch out of the way. The gnarled appendage whipped back again, nearly smacking clean across her bared cheekbone. If it weren’t for the sickness broiling in her veins, doubling her over, she’d have been just another unconscious body discovered in Montana’s harsh wilderness; meat for the wolves. However, it appeared tonight would not be her end. She just had to keep moving. As long as she could press forth, she was safe. The fact her directionless hike led to unknown locations did not matter.

Civilization was out there…somewhere.

That desperate thought had just barely crossed her mind when her knees began to wobble with effort, buckling beneath their own weight. A needless cry of despair brushed past her scabbed lips and she tossed all limbs outwards, gripping aimlessly for a handhold. Her reddened toes squelched into dark mud, the oddly cool sludge oozing in between. With a short yank, she worked herself free only to slide atop the slippery surface. Yelping once more, her hands flailed at nothingness. The ink black sky, riddled with the constellations whose names she could never place, tumbled in her vision, overturning as her back fell flat against the muck.

For some reason, the star cluster known as Apus stood out as she blinked wearily through black, fluttering lashes.

The Bird of Paradise.

It’s name she would not forget, though it had no apparent myths surrounding its nature or even any notable stories. The particular grouping had only been brought to her attention once before, when a friendly neighbor had inhabited the cabin just across from hers. He had been a very polite man, a bit older in age, with sun kissed skin that always seemed to harbor a specific, ethereal glow. She never knew his name, only that he had not been born here and it always showed so evidently. He was primal in beliefs, yes, but he was like a whole force of nature, or perhaps something even mightier. She could never quite place her finger on just what exactly it was, though ‘mythical creature’ came quite close. The man had a tendency to appear only on occasion, when it seemed absolutely necessary, before disappearing without the slightest of traces.

She let her weary eyes drift shut, allowing herself to fully drown in the recalled image.

The night had been similar to this one, despite the biting chill in the air. Autumn gave way to Winter, the reds and golds faded to dull browns and washed away by pearly snow banks. Her on and off again neighbor had been particularly peeved by the death of his flower garden to the inevitable frost. The crestfallen features on his face, once full to burst with an unending hope, had pierced through her like chilled icicles. It was so unnerving, an unnatural phenomenon that looked as if it could bring about the end of all times. She hungered to fix what was broken, so, she did as her father had done. She looked to the stars.

Surprisingly, he already contained some knowledge on the matter; far more than she did to be utterly exact. The once exuded charm returned within minutes as he excitedly began pointing out his favored constellations, a renewed vigor fueling every exaggerated wave of hands. The pureness that leaked from him and etched its way into her heart, oh how it lifted her wilted convictions. With every beat it grew stronger yet, pulsing vibrant life into her stagnant soul. A swell of long forgotten emotions permeated the hardened barrier imprisoning her body like a cage of ice. It filled up her barren chest with a warmth akin to the bonfire softly crackling only a foot away from them.

Perhaps it was years of loneliness that left her bitter and cursing this rotten, twisted earth but, he consistently found ways to dig up the beauty, always excavating and dissecting as if a divine being bored of the Heavens he solely ruled.

She’d always had a sneaking suspicion, deep in her gut, that his admissions were as unmatched in this world as they would be in a Godly one.

His words could go on for eternity and she’d still be there, listening with as much enthusiasm as a five-year-old receiving a brand new toy. Alas, the evening would come to a close sooner than expected, but not before his encompassing arms, so breathtaking and warm and wonderful, graced her body with their benevolent embrace, sweeping up every piece of her as if she were a broken doll for him to put back together. The gasp of surprise from her open mouth was drowned away, trapped beneath the fabric of a crisp, white dress shirt. A caring hand had engulfed the back of her skull, cradling it against him with all the tenderness of a God imitating a mere mortal and the way her core burst to life, fragile chest heaving with each gasping intake of his golden, honey scent, it was enough to send tremors between them both.

“Bird of Paradise, O faultless one cast away from thine nest. Won’t you see about my garden? The rose bushes, the lilies, the baby’s breath, each of which I have prepared for you…”

The sudden ring of his voice boomed loud and clear, rushing into her eardrums with enough force to draw tiny whimpers from her pale, trembling lips.

“Lost in the forest of doubt, you took your journey with clipped wings and how painful it was to watch. My Bird of Paradise, it has led you to me.”

Those arms. She felt them wrap her up once more and it was as if she could rise up and touch the sky.

“It has lead you home.”

#far cry 5 #fc5 #far cry 5 writing #writing #joseph seed #deputy #rook #deputy rook #female deputy #joseph seed x deputy

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sosthemortalcoil · 6 years

Text

Movie Night with Sabriel (Ko-Fi Request, silent15)

silent15 requested m!Gabriel and RO Sabriel fluff. Movie night in, Gabriel’s first time seeing the original Star Wars trilogy. Hope you enjoy it!

You can hear the microwave in the other room, and it takes a concerted effort not to get up and stand anxiously in front of it. The violent pops the microwave belches out aren’t helping. One too many melted, overcooked, and on-fire disasters with the small machine had ruined any trust the two of you might have had.

“You can stop looking like you’re waiting for the house to burn down,” Sabriel comments, sitting cross-legged on a stool and monitoring the situation. She had taken off her glasses, leaving them to rest on the counter.

Per her normal dress, she was wearing a knit sweater, this one a forest-green with stripes of mahogany worked into the pattern. A pair of jeans, worn often enough to begin to appear white around the knees, hugs her legs.

“You’re staring,” she says, never taking her eyes off the microwave. Even from your position in the living room, you can see the slight smile.

“Of course I am,” you retort. “My girlfriend let her hair down; I have to enjoy the sight when I can.”

Sabriel scoffs, but she reaches up and wraps one of the wavy strands that falls over her shoulders around a finger, slowly letting it uncoil. “Girlfriend. Sounds so… juvenile. We’re probably the oldest inhabitants of this city.”

“Oh? What should I call you then? My mate? My bonnie lass? My lover? My—”

Sabriel interrupts with a laugh. “Enough! Girlfriend is good enough. Boyfriend.” She tacks on the label at the end, ducking her chin and turning her head away.

“See, I like the sound of that. Sabriel’s boyfriend. I think it’s rather romantic.”

Sabriel jumps off her perch, yanking open the microwave door. “Cheeseball,” she tosses back, hissing as she tugs open the flaps of the popcorn. The smell of butter wafts through the room as Sabriel tosses the bag on the counter and puts in a second, flat package.

As she slams the microwave shut, she sticks the fingers of her other hand into her mouth, sucking on the tips.

Seizing the opportunity, and bored of waiting on the couch, you get up and move behind her. “Here, why don’t you let me kiss them and make it better?” you ask. It was a concept Daniel had introduced to you, in a very different context, but you didn’t see why it couldn’t be used here.

Sabriel shakes her hand, looking at you sideways. “Human saliva isn’t really going to make it better,” she states.

It’s hard not to roll your eyes at that. Grabbing her hand, you draw it to your mouth, kissing the pad of each of her fingers. She goes from being unaffected to scowling in an effort to keep the blush staining her cheeks from being noticed by the time you reach her pinkie.

“Does it still hurt?” you ask cheekily.

“No, but I didn’t really burn them. And I’m a little more resilient than the average human,” she retorts, extracting her hand and turning back to the microwave.

“Are you sure we need two bags? Daniel’s already asleep,” you comment. Tonight was the culmination of a great deal of planning—anything where you got Sabriel to yourself seemed to take more time and effort than any of the battle-plans you’ve ever had to draw up.

“Love, I’m fond of you, but if you eat my share of the popcorn, there will be a war. We have three movies to get through tonight, and we need to stick to the schedule because I am going to make you watch the prequels. Anakin is a little git, but Padme has to be one of the best additions to the franchise. Plus, I admit I’m a bit of a sucker for Liam Neeson, and his role as Qui-Gon will make me cry. Everytime. And we can’t forget Obi-Wan, especially when he has to put up with the bloody knob of an actor that they used for Anakin in two and three. Plus, the origin of Boba Fett—ah, there I go again.”

Sabriel starts to raise a hand to her mouth, but you catch it. “You don’t need to censor yourself or be nervous around me,” you tell her, gently twining your fingers with hers. “And you should give your poor nails a break.”

She elbows you, and you let out a dramatic oof than has her biting her lip to stifle a chuckle. “Don’t be nervous, the archangel says. Nutter.”

“You’ve seen me almost set the house on fire cooking,” you retort. “You can’t honestly try to tell me that my station is still some barrier to overcome. You certainly weren’t bothered by it when we first met.”

Sabriel pulls a face. “I’ve apologized for my behavior for that night,” she states.

“Actually, I don’t think you ever did,” you muse, tilting your head to one side.

Sabriel leans back against you, digging in her bony elbow. “I’m sure I did,” she says, the perfectly polite veneer disguising her physical jab.

“No, no, I’m sure I would remember—” Sabriel turns in your arms, exasperated.

“Just can it,” she states, and kisses you. It’s quick, a fleeting touch of lips before she’s pulling away.

“Hmm, maybe I remember something,” you say thoughtfully, concealing your grin as Sabriel’s eyes narrow. Goading her never fails to remove the stiff formality that sometimes overtakes her, a yoke around her neck that she can’t always shake on her own.

“Oh really? Let me guess, another kiss might be just what you need to recall better,” she tosses out.

You shrug your shoulders. “If that is your recommendation, my lady. I am a firm believer in a kiss making everything better, after all.”

“I shouldn’t reward you for this kind of behavior,” Sabriel says, her lips hovering over yours. “Might lead to repeat performances, and you are insufferable enough as is,” she adds, poking your side.

“You wound me,” you breathe back, waiting for her. The corners of her eyes wrinkle in a genuine smile as she closes the distance between your lips, kissing you softly, gently, a teasing taste before she pulls away.

“Don’t seem to be incapacitated to me,” she states. Then she sniffs, and her eyes go wide.

“Fu—” She cuts herself off and shoves you away. Whirling, she yanks open the microwave. Smoke curls out, accompanied by the acrid scent of burnt popcorn.

“Nothing worse than the smell of burnt popcorn,” she wails, taking in the singed package. Hanging her head in defeat, she lets out a heavy sigh.

“Turn on the fans, open the windows. I’ll get another bag out after I take this outside. You do not want to throw away popcorn in the inside bin. That smell never leaves.”

Rubbing her back, you decide the best course of action is to remain silent and do as she asks. A few minutes later most of the air is cleared, helped along by a lemon-scented breeze that has you arching an eyebrow at the other angel.

“I thought Grace was for emergency use only.”

Sabriel glares at you as she stuffs another bag in the microwave and punches in some random time. “The smell of burnt popcorn counts. Besides, I’m not about to let anything ruin my movie night with my boyfriend,” she states, before viciously opening the already cooked bag and upending it in a bowl.

You wisely decide not to comment. She had already been in a bad enough mood when she arrive, three hours later than was planned. Not to mention she had forgotten her copies of the original Star Wars trilogy.

Luckily, you had made sure to pick up the movies, with Daniel’s assistance. Seeing as they were some of Sabriel’s favorite media to talk about, you had thought it would be a nice surprise. She had almost cried when she saw that you were prepared, tired and wrung out by work. The popcorn had been her way of reasserting control and calming down while you set up the film.

“Go into the living room. I’ll be done shortly, and it’ll be better without a certain someone distracting me,” she states, turning her attention back to the microwave and leaning against the counter.

“Yes, ma’am,” you say, a subtle reminder that she’s slipped into her authoritative role. Not that you always mind, but she doesn’t often intend to.

“Please, luv,” she adds, tossing you a weak smile in thanks.

You settle onto the couch, stretching out your legs. Sabriel likes to curl against you, tangling legs and using you as a pillow. It might not be the most comfortable position, but you don’t complain. Not when she relaxes against you, drawing lazy circles across your chest, her toes flexing against your legs.

Getting Sabriel relaxed is an art form, one that you are starting to get the hang-of, but you still have a long way to go before mastering it. Which is fine by you. You can see yourself happily spending centuries becoming an expert in what your guardian angel likes and dislikes. It’s strange, the idea that without this assignment you might have never met her. Not face-to-face, anyways.

She’s become such a bright spot in your life that imagining it without her is—unpleasant.

The air leaves your body in a forceful exhalation as Sabriel plops down, half on the couch and half on you. You hadn’t even noticed the microwave go off.

“Okay, popcorn, movie, blanket—” she reaches up and tugs the last item off the back of the couch, throwing it over your legs.

“And boyfriend about to be exposed to the wonder that is Star Wars for the first time. Let’s go.

“Why are we starting with Episode Four?” you ask after the opening crawl, trying to digest all the information the scrolling yellow text had imparted.

“Because that’s the first one made. Not that it originally had the episode number when it was first released. That was a later edition. Anyways, it goes four, five, six, then one through three. Probably do Rogue One after we finish episode, then the last trilogy. Solo isn’t bad, but it isn’t great either. It can certainly wait. Plus the—you know what, focus on one movie at a time.”

“It seems like there’s a lot of them. When do you find the time to watch all them? I hardly get to see you as it is.”

“When I’m not being distracted by kissing my annoying boyfriend, I am an excellent multitasker,” she retorts. “Plus, being aware of popular culture is one of the best ways to fit it. I went to one of the original screenings for this, which was years go. Now shush!”

A fanfare plays, and the words a long time ago, in a galaxy far, far away... appear on screen.

“Wait a second, this is set in the past? I thought science-fiction was futuristic?”

“Five seconds, and a question. Just go with it! It’s not like it’s absurd, given some of the places you’ve been, I’m sure.”

A yellow block of text begins scrolling across the screen. “Evil Galactic Empire? Not biasing the audience at all.”

Sabriel throws popcorn over her shoulder at your face. You catch it as it falls, and pop it into your mouth. At least the movie begins with action. The imposing figure dressed in black quickly distinguishes himself as the primary villain by choking a man to death.

“That golden droid is rather insulting, isn’t he?” you murmur, holding a piece of popcorn up to Sabriel’s lips.

“I don’t know, I think ‘mindless philosopher’ is an excellent retort. Perhaps one I should start applying to you?” she asks. She shifts, trying to find the best spot to rest her head. “Now just watch.”

The little Jawas remind you of some of the goblins you’ve met at the fae court, constantly tinkering and not to be trusted. You watch quietly as the droids are picked up by a moisture farmer, and the plot thickens as the hologram plays.

“So Old Ben Kenobi is—is that the Obi-Wan you were talking about?”

You play with Sabriel’s hair, your attention split between the movie and your girlfriend, who had made a good dent on demolishing the popcorn.

“Yes, but not this version. Not to say that old Obi-Wan isn’t still great, but he’s not Ewan McGregor.”

“Should I be jealous?” you tease, snagging some pieces of popcorn before her questing fingers snare them.

“What?” Sabriel looks confused.

“Well, you keep talking about these guys—”

Sabriel snorts. “Fictional characters,” she interjects.

“Fictional characters played by flesh-and-blood humans,” you continue.

“Fictional character played by powerless humans in a universe where some of them have an ability to tap into the Force, a power which can control the minds of the weak, be used to wreak havoc—the darkside of the Force—or heal, lift rocks, deflect bullets…”

“In other words, it’s Grace.”

Sabriel opens her mouth to dispute the point, and the shuts it. “You might have a point,” she says begrudgingly. “But we can discuss it later. Talk too much and you’re going to miss the best lines.”

“You’ve probably said them all.”

“Shh!”

It takes effort not to burst into laughter when Obi-Wan, or Old Ben, or whatever name he goes by waves his hand and the Stormtrooper ignores the droid. “Are you sure that the creator of this film never met an angel?” you ask, wrapping an arm around Sabriel’s waist.

“Are you asking me if I had anything to do with this?” she asks softly back, turning her head to speak against your jaw.

“Would you tell me if you did?”

“I can’t take credit for anything to do with Star Wars, though I may be able to confirm that Lucas might have had a guard on him for a while. My job means that I oversee; I don’t get to take cases anymore.”

“Except for Daniel,” you murmur.

“Yes, you are an exception. In a lot of ways,” she adds, kissing your cheek before turning her attention back to the movie.

The main crew grows, adding a roguish smuggler and a tall, furry alien that reminds you of a brownie—if brownies stood well over two meters in height. You can’t understand a word of the creature’s language, a rare experience given your Babylon matrix, but the party banter clarifies when needed.

“So, this is where you got flyboy from. Has nothing to do with me being an angel.”

“I didn’t say it didn’t have anything to do with you being an angel. It’s accurate, either way,” Sabriel says sweetly, rattling the kernels in the bowl as she scrounges for any intact pieces of popcorn.

“I suppose Han is considered charming, in his own way.”

“Fishing for a compliment there, flyboy?”

“Depends.”

“Maybe I should switch to calling you a walking carpet.”

“Hey, no need to bring Chewbacca into it.”

“You’re right. That’s not fair to him.” Sabriel gives you a look that would work if she had her glasses on to look over. As it is, it’s adorable, but not the no-nonsense appearance she’s going for. You drop a kiss on her forehead.

“If I’m flyboy, I’m pretty sure that makes you princess.”

Sabriel lifts a shoulder. “Just remember, this princess doesn’t miss.”

You’re a little surprised when they make plans to take down the Death Star. Since it was a trilogy, you had half-assumed that the Death Star would be the ultimate challenge, especially since it had taken out an entire planet.

You suppose there are the rest of the Imperials to overthrow. Plus, if there’s another trilogy following this one, clearly the evil Galactic Empire doesn’t stay down for good.

“He’s not really going to leave, is he?” You can’t help the incredulity in your voice, watching Han plan to leave the rebels to their attack. “He’s supposed to be one of the best pilots there is, and he’s just going to walk away? And I thought he liked Leia.”

“It’s not over yet,” Sabriel says, squeezing your arm.

You don’t know how you got so invested in the movie, but you’re almost on the edge of the couch, watching raptly as Luke shuts off his sensors, trusting in the Force as he goes after the Death Star’s vulnerability.

It’s a relief as the planet-killer explodes, your favorite characters making it out unscathed. Not that you had doubted they would. A silly grin crosses your face as Leia places medals around Han and Luke’s neck.

“I’m going to have to remember that wink,” you say to Sabriel, nibbling on her ear. She smacks your thigh.

“You think you can pull it off? I’m not sure you’ve got quite the roguish charm required,” she teases, sitting up.

“There’s two more of them to go tonight?”

Sabriel turns to you, eyes gleaming. “Yes.” She hesitates, and sighs.

“If you want to. Given that I was later than planned, it’s understandable if you would rather not.” She says the words, ostensibly giving you an out, but you can see how eager she is to continue.

Neither of you technically require sleep, though since you occupy a shell, and Sabriel runs herself ragged, rest should be taken when the opportunity arises.

“Maybe one more. Have to have some reason to keep you coming back,” you say, capturing her wrist as she gets up to put the next movie in.

Sabriel’s expression softens as she sits back down on your lap. “I’ve got all the reason I need right here,” she states.

You lean forward, kissing her. She tastes of butter and salt, warm and familiar. Too soon she pulls away, chuckling.

“It’s a shame, though. I was really hoping we’d get through Return of the Jedi.” She leans into your ear. “I have my guilty pleasures, and among them include these conventions humans hold. Going in costume is a lot of fun. I’ve done a few of them over the years, but I can’t show you my collection until you’ve seen them all in the movies.”

Your eyebrows shoot up as Sabriel gets up, setting up the next movie. “You run around dressed as Leia? I wouldn’t have thought it was your style.”

“A rebel leader, who you will see, is perfectly capable of taking care of herself? Nothing in common at all.”

“Not sure you count as a rebel leader,” you tease as she walks back, repositioning yourself and moving the popcorn bowl to the coffee table.

“There’s no evil Galactic Empire, either.” She counters. “But my cosplay would be even better if I had a Han to my Leia.”

“Oh really?”

“We haven’t gotten to the part where she says I love you, so don’t be getting so full of yourself yet.” She wags a finger in your face, her grin belittling the scolding.

“Well, we could practice.” You throw in a waggle of your eyebrows for good measure, enjoying the way Sabriel struggles to keep a neutral expression.

“Only if you’re dressed as Han will I let you slide with responding ‘I know’ to I love you,” Sabriel warns.

“He is a little bit of a cocky bastard, isn’t he? Kill her or like her, I think Han put it before the garbage chute?” You pull her down on top of you. “Besides, I think I’d prefer to respond with I love you too.”

“Aren’t you the romantic,” she huffs, leaning forward to bump foreheads with you. It’s not as intimate in the shell, much of your Grace locked away behind barriers and therefore not escaping your mouth to mingle with Sabriel’s citrus scented Grace, but it’s still a tender moment.

“But I do think there are some strong parallels. For instance, I’m pretty sure you would have happily strangled me when we first met.”

“Not worth the paperwork,” Sabriel responds, curling herself around you and hitting the play button. “And Leia never tried to strangle Han.”

“Yet. You said there’s two more movies to go. Anything could happen,” you add, securing your arms around her and resting your chin on her shoulder.

“Well, she strangles someone. But you’ll just have to wait and see who. And if you make it through the movies, I might just let you pick one of my Leia outfits out for a private showing.”

“I don’t know, I’m not sure the princess has much on you,” you murmur as another opening crawl works its way across the screen.

“You are sweet. But you be surprised by how fun it can be to throw in a little, um, roleplay.” The dim light from the TV isn’t enough to show her face, but you can feel how tense she’s gotten. Interesting. She does have some fantasies of her own.

“I might be able to make that work. Play the dashing scoundrel rescuing the princess.”

Sabriel shifts position, digging into your stomach in the process. “Watch who saves who, flyboy. And the deal only counts if you stay awake. If I catch you sleeping, the offer is null and void.”

“Well, I wouldn’t want to disappoint. Maybe we can make it through one more after this tonight.” You kiss her cheek, and settle in for another round, feeling content and at peace.

#ko-fi request #Sabriel RO #star wars #movie night #m!Gabriel #fluff #extra #thanks for the coffee!

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