#he learnt from his life and is a better person in death. but deep. very deep inside he still Wants so baddddd

[antimonys-stuff]

anyway what I'm saying is BISEXUAL Icarus who in his mortal life fell (quite literally) for the splendor of Apollo in his chariot, and in his death falls in love with the princess of the Underworld, who also shines in her own way

[the-ghost-of-asselus-cancri]

"special gift"

fandom: arcana twilight

characters: summoner (mc) x sirius)

you were wide awake in the middle of the night, too anxious to go back to sleep, yet too tired and exhausted to take a walk in the park behind the mansion to clear your head of any troubling thoughts, buzzing like a cluster of unruly bees in your clouded consciousness.

the image of badly wounded sirius painfully stuck in your tired mind: his black, shimmering hair, usually gracefully styled, now a distorted mess, pieces of his clothes sizzling away from magical burns and his body covered in sharp, deep cuts, scarlet blood and many bruises. a horrible realization suddenly strikes you: spica would actually end his life right then and there, if it weren't for alpheratz's messed up mana flow making him faint in the middle of a fight, practically saving the opposing sorcerer from any repercussions or death itself.

a conflicted mess of emotions, like an overflowing river, made you shiver, as you took a ring, a small gift from sirius from the better times back then, and twiddled with it, the bright stone reminiscent of his ever changing eyes, mysteriously shining in the moon light. you wondered how sirius faired in this trying times: was he alone in this plan, healing his injuries by himself, or were there other ones in on it, scheming behind the shsdows? you put in on your finger, cold metal unpleasanttly grounding you back in reality, yet making you feel nostalgic despite everything that happened.

you opened your stella tab and decided to see if another one of his burner magical tabs was on. since sirius was wanted by the law, it was almost an every day occurrence that he changed his number constantly, his old stella tab presumably broken, as to avoid any possible meanings of easy traction. he admitted jokingly that sending you pigeon letters would be a better, safer alternative, and you almost suggested doing just that, until he laughed out loud at your determined expression in response to a half hearted sarcastic one liner.

"hey, you up?" you learnt not to question sirius about whatever this oath of his was, because somewhere deep inside you knew that he would never give you a proper answer, until the right time comes around.

"you shouldn't be up this late, summoner. is something bothering you?" you smiled, though it was bitter sweet, and wanted to type out "yes, you" but restrained yourself, not wanting this conversation to become an another pointless interrogation.

"what's with the stone in the ring you've given me?"

"it doesn't suit your taste in jewelry?"

"no, it's not that! does it have any meaning behind it?"

"oh, so the summoner wants my gift to be special, huh? never took you as a sentimental person."

"stop teasing me, sirius! just answer the question, or I'm going back to sleep"

"sorry, sorry, my fault, I shall tease you no more. in fact, I'm glad you asked, since this particular stone, opal, does, in fact, have a special meaning. it's my birthstone, would you believe it? it usually represents hope and, well, good karma, though I don't think these qualities suit me very well, you, on the other hand... you're like a guiding light to me, summoner, and i hope you will shine blidingly for me until the very end"

"is this one of your plays again?"

"so you think a man on the run has nothing better to do than to write a dramatic play? I'm just kidding, though I meant it, summoner, every word. this text conversation is making me miss you. I'm sorry it had to turn out this way, I really am. please stay away from the other towers, reject spica's insane ideas, if you must. stay safe, (_) "

"you too, sirius"

"I miss you"

"I know"

[cheriecelestial]

Luminary Pt.II

pairing *:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧ Yan Emperor!OC X Swordmaster!OC

disclaimer *:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧ yandere thoughts. hurt/ no comfort. angst. mentions of violence and character death. lovers to enemies.

a/n *:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧ Please listen to Joel Sunny’s Luminary for the whole experience. COMMENT LIKE & REBLOG ✿.*･｡ﾟ (ㅅ´ ˘ `) Pt.1

“Atticus was kind,” Atticus' ears perked up at his mention, his brows knitted in confusion as to why she was referring to him as if she was talking about someone else ? “You said your magic erases insignificant feelings. You were always so full of kindness, what happened?” Her words struck the platinum haired man like lightning. But what she saw in him was just him mirroring her light like the moon does with the sun and nothing else.

“To you my darling. I was kind because you deserved it. I cared because you did, always. You broke me out of my mould, out of all the rules and conceptions I had about my life. And I loved you for it. But before I knew it i started doing everything by your book. Everything for you. To win you, for validation, for love. So much so that I lost sight of my goal.” His words died by the end of his sentence, if they were talking truth now — he might as well splay his feelings out in front of her.

“I was just trying to save you. I-I-”Cecily barely stuttered out. He felt Cecily's hand on his shoulder dig in. Her bottom lip quivered and her body trembled to the point that she swayed slightly on her feet. If he could feel any guilt or remorse he was sure that the look on her face would've devastated Atticus more than anything he had experienced before but all he felt was a strange tightness in his chest.

Calming herself, she took a deep breath and spoke in a low tone,“ Is that what I was to you ? A distraction from your goal ? I tried Atticus. I tried so hard to save you from yourself.” He telt a part of his shoulder burn where she rested her hand.

“Distraction ? No my love. I know you tried to save me and for a moment there - I swore you did . But leaving behind all I had ever known was a risk I was never willing to take, because what will become of me when I abandon the laws that have shaped me ? You gave me life but my vengeance gave me purpose.” Atticus knew he wasn’t a good man from the very start. That something was fundamentally flawed about his existence. An inadequacy, one he’d never overcome. And somewhere deep within, he was jealous. Jealous of Cecily for being so perfect . She always so full of vitality. Like a star, even when she held his face in her hands — she always somehow felt so far away, somehow felt so unattainable. The problem with being born in hell and then being getting a taste of heaven was - that no matter how hard you tried you could never overcome that nagging feeling in the back of your head that told you that you didn’t belong. There was one sole lesson he learnt from all of this was he had too many demons to love an angel. So if he couldn’t belong in the heaven, he would drag his haloed darling to the hell.

“The reason I came here was to see if there was a modicum of redeemable humanity left in you. If there was any part of my Atticus left. Marcel was right, you have changed beyond recognition. I no longer recognise the person I’m looking at.” Her tone grew distant by the second. It was the same tone people talked about the deceased at funerals. Mourning him as if he had died, like he wasn’t still alive and breathing in front of her. She almost thought it would be easier if he had died. At least she’d feel some sort of closure, knowing he’s not coming back. But this, this was a nothing but pure torture for her.

But then he wasn’t gone, if anything he was doing better than he ever was. Leaving her behind to pick up the shattered pieces of what they once had. Yet somehow, she couldn’t hate him for that - not really anyways. No amount of anger would mend the torn pieces of her broken heart. She was left in emotional turmoil, love mixing with hate mixing with rage, betrayal and depression. No matter how many times the word hate flashed through her mind, it was never truly directed at Atticus. Rather the world, the things they had forced upon him, the pressure he had been made to feel.

Shakily, Cecily raised her palm to caress his hair. Atticus almost flinched at how warm her war calloused hand felt against his face. He nuzzled his face closer to her palm as his emotions as a cacophony of fear, desire, hate, and desolation, all battling one another for control. Her touch was a fire he would willingly walk into.

Cecily cupped Atticus’ face and tilted her chin up to him, parting her lips ever so slightly. Atticus’s brain went into overdrive at her invitation. She resembled a siren, calling out to him with her sweet song and in the back of his head he knew there would be consequences to this. But the moment her lips touched his he stopped breathing. His mind went blank. Every feeling, thought, and emotion that he has ever felt floods through him in a torrent. He could barely comprehend the feeling of her lips on his own. His hands wrapped themselves around her back and tighten as the rush of emotions overwhelms him. At the same time, he was aware of how much he hated this. She was ruining him and she had no idea how much her touch was destroying everything he spent so much time meticulously building.

“I’m so sorry I couldn’t save you.” Cecily’s emerald green eyes looked hollow yet somehow reverential when she pulled away. Atticus wanted to grab her shoulders, shake her violently and yell that he was still here so why did she look at him with such melancholy.

“I don’t need saving Cecilia. Join me my darling. Be my queen and I swear we could restore this empire to all its deserved glory.”He gripped her hand resting against his cheek and pleaded. He didn’t care if he sounded desperate or pathetic, he just needed her to say yes.

Cecily shook her head slowly and said,“ As appealing as it sounds, you and I both know you don’t plan on making me anything apart from your canary in a gilded cage because I will never approve of you methods and neither will I aid you in them.” Atticus sighed in defeat. He bit the inside of his cheek till he tasted blood. If she wasn’t going to give in voluntarily, he just had to make her.

“You know you can’t win against me. Even if you persevere and defeat my armies. You can’t kill me. Dark magic makes me impervious to all weaponry and magic. No one in history has ever been able to accomplish it. What makes you think you will be able to do it ?” Atticus challenged her knowing that even with all her strength, there was no way in hell she could win. She wouldn’t fight for so long if she knew she didn’t stand a chance, an ominous voice warned him .

“None but one”

He knew who she was referring to. The legend Seraphina Andrea Reginald and her aura sword — the Caelum Lux. The founder of the continent. She was this golden figure who was the beacon of morality, freedom and justice. An allegory and dubbed to be reincarnation of the goddess of light Lumine. But that was the end of it- a legend, another one of story tellers’ dramatic gimmicks to make little children believe in virtue. Even though Cecily belonged to her bloodline, calling upon such power was next to impossible.

“It’s a children’s story my darling. The Caelum Lux isn’t a real sword and you know it.”

Cecily lightly shrugged in response as a silent ‘yes well’. The orchestra began their final piece and a familiar melody swirled around them. It was the song Atticus often played for them at late hours when they’d sneak into the music room at the music room back when they were in the academy. What were the odds that they would play this very song as their final piece ?

“It’s the last waltz your majesty. Dance with me. Just like the old times.”

Wordlessly, Atticus pulled her closer. Her cheek was resting on his chest and his other hand almost holding her in a half hug. This wasn’t the standard waltz position, but it was something so comfortingly intimate to them. She was good to him but not to his cause. To Atticus Asterin – Cecily Reginald is an obstacle, but to Atty - Ces is an anchor. His heart felt at peace but his instincts were blaring sirens as if she was his greatest enemy and who knows maybe she was. Push her away and leave, the voice told him as a sign of fatal danger. He gripped her closer as if retaliating to the instinct. Atticus wasn’t going to let anyone take Cecily away from him, not even himself.

“The Caelum Lux isn’t a sword, it��s a bloodline.”Cecily stated calmly as if it wasn’t the most groundbreaking piece of information Atticus had heard. “You remember my father, the late duke, had all my distant relatives covertly killed a few years ago ?”

“Yes, I do remember. It was perhaps the only occasion you mustered the courage to confront him,” he countered. Instead of retaliating in her usual fury, Cecily merely smiled and continued, “Its aura can be invoked by the last descendant after absorbing the light energy of their deceased kin. Seraphina Reginald wasn’t a swordmaster — she was a mage. The most formidable one to ever exist.” Atticus’ blood ran cold. He remembered the duke and his cold eyes. They were the same colour as Cecily’s but they always held nothing but disgust and disdain, looking at him as if he were nothing but an insect. The only time a different expression crossed the duke’s face was as he lay dying. Atticus pressed the sword to his heart and the duke just smiled back at him. The same smile Cecily was wearing. The same smile a hunter wore when they caught their prey.

After gaining his power, Atticus believed he could shed his fear. He swore to himself that he would never go back to being that helpless weak boy who was even scared of his own shadow. He wasn’t supposed to feel this anymore.

Push her away. She’s dangerous.

Push her away.

Push her away.

“I see.” He felt as though he was stepping forward over this ravine with a snapping tightrope, but she was on the other side with a lamp and a knife, daring him to cross it. But it didn’t matter because she wouldn’t catch him — not anymore. He had emerged victorious, then why did he feel like he was exactly where the duke wanted him to be ?

Atticus looked down to her face pressed against his chest. It was a pleasant. Despite having this beautiful perspective emphasised, Atticus found his head reeling and his breath shallowing. His heart hammering in his chest unstably, feeling somewhat claustrophobic. She can’t defeat me, that’s what the platinum haired man kept telling himself. He was caught in a tailspin, a tailspin that was only leading him one place. He couldn’t let that happen. But she kept haunting his thoughts, along with the other ghosts holed up in his head. Did ruination and salvation always look this identical ?

You can’t put Atticus upon yourself to save — he made the choices he made, you can’t change them. You can’t save a person who doesn’t want to be saved. She told herself sternly. She must done what she had to, what she came here to do. Cecily took a deep breath and steeled her resolve. She didn’t know if she was telling the truth when she said she didn’t recognise him. Everything about him, every minuscule detail about him, had been exactly as she had remembered. He still had the same sweet and playful look in his eyes. He still had the same charming smile. He was still the same person she fell in love with all those years ago so it hurt. She cried, wailed, and tried to be strong as she thought about the moments shared with him and how cruel it was that this was where she ended up.

Their eyes lock, returning each other's gaze, scrutinising the abysmal of their souls that was built with a blended sentiment. She saw a bead of perspiration run down the side of his forehead and his breath getting more laboured by the second. She had to act fast.

For a fleeting moment, silence prevailed in between, the rhythm of their breathing stirring with the progression of the music around them. The music of the waltz filled the room with a gentle, flowing melody. It began with a simple rhythm, gradually building into a sweeping cadence. Footsteps and hands were in perfect time with the music, moving with precision and grace. It was a soothing, romantic piece. The tempo of the music shifted and changed, following the dynamics of the song and the movements of the dancers. Soon it reached a feverish crescendo indicating its dramatic ending .

Atticus wrapped her waist and lifted her in the air for a spin. When he set her down he noticed her eyes were closed. “Love ?” He asked but she didn’t respond. Growing unnerving due to the lack of response he reaped, he called out to her again. An ominous feeling crept up his spine as the voice in his head chided him, too late. When she opened her eyes, they glowed with unnatural amount of light almost as if the goddess Lumine herself had descended from the heavens. Wait, goddess ? Now it all started to make sense to him. Her coming here, the legend of Seraphina Reginald and the Caelum Lux.

Blinding light engulfed the ballroom leaving everyone stunned. And when the light faded, Atticus heard someone scream. He felt oddly disoriented and overwhelmed. What is going on ? He opened his mouth to speak but nothing except blood came out. His hand flew to his neck to feel the thick waterfall of blood dripping from the side of his neck. Before he could register what happened, his knees bucked as he stumbled. Is that my blood ? Am I dying ? His vision started to blur and he felt life slipping away like sand from his fingers. Unlike anything he had ever imagined, instead of fear he felt warmth.

In that moment, he saw the star decorations in the centre of the dome and all the incomplete dreams and promises of forever they made in their youth. His vision cleared for a second and he saw her. He saw everything he ever loved about her – her countenance bore an undeniable allure. Her spun hair, painstakingly brushed to perfection, flowed like silk threads, infused with small silver flowers, an extravagant touch. The jagged burn scar that ran down the side of her face, something that never deterred him from loving her all the same. Swathed in rich lace, her garments caressed her form with the grace of luxury, their hue an enchanting shade of white. This allure was further accentuated by her green eyes, glinting like shards of frozen emeralds, reflecting an unyielding mysterious depth — a landscape of evergreen forests like the ones they would often go hunting in. He stared at her till his vision was tainted by red.

As the world around him darkened, he was left with the haunting echoes of what once was, leaving him to wonder how it all came to this point. too many questions, too little answers. They said love healed, love nurtured, love saved many. Unfortunately for them, the poets were wrong after all, not even love was enough to save them. Her lips moved to say something he couldn’t quite catch, Atticus used the last bit of his strength to strain his ears to hear the last words she would say to him before he left this world .

“Rest now my love, may the gods receive you on the other side, pardoning that which may be absolved.”

[quirkywalrus]

I'm the problem | Dazai x GN reader | TW |

TWs: s3lf h@rm, su!slide, depression, mental health, bl00d, mentions of scars

Hey there! As a more detailed warning, there will be mentions of adult/mature/sensitive topics throughout so if any of the things mentioned above are triggering or a difficult subject for you then please do not read any further.

Dazai was often quiet when he came home from a stressful mission, which you had learnt was just his own way of coping with the days events and that it's nothing personal towards you. But today, when you shouted 'welcome home' to him from the sofa, instead of a worded reply he said nothing and headed to the bathroom. You didn't take much notice as this had happened before, but you did start to worry when it had been almost half an hour since you had seen or heard your boyfriend. You jumped off the sofa and quietly floated towards the bathroom door.

"Dazai? Are you ok? Are you sick?" you knocked, leaving a pause for response between each question. You stood there for a few minutes and heard very faint sniffles. Dazai never showed any of his vulnerable emotions towards you, he learnt from experience that it was best to keep those things hidden away for the sake and the safety of everyone in his life.

You gently placed your hand on the door handle and turned it down, you noticed the door wasn't even locked, maybe he secretly wanted you to come and check on him rather than him off-load unwanted information.

"Babe?" You whispered and quietly opened the door. To your own surprise, you found Dazai sat with his back against the bath with his arms bathed in his own fresh blood. You couldn't help but stare, you had no idea where to look or what to say.

"I'm sorry, I'm just pathetic" Dazai began to sob. You had never seen him cry so to you this was just one step further in your relationship. You knelt down on the tiled floor between his legs, cradling his face with your hands.

"You are not pathetic you hear me? You have no reason to be sorry - whatever happened today was not your fault. You don't have to tell me but you definitely don't need to feel guilty about what happened" Dazai's eyes looked down as he moved his weak wrists towards your hips.

"It's me. I'm the problem. I'm the reason that people I love disappear, or die. Even when I try to leave someone's life before I hurt them creates more problems. I can't win in this life and I'll be damned if I hurt you in any of those ways..."

"Babe, if you bleed to death then I'll be absolutely distraught. I don't want you to have to suffer alone in the dark - or on a tiled bathroom floor. You can talk to me babe, I will always have time to listen to you, never forget that." you kissed his lips gently to reassure him that everything you just said was the 100% truth.

"Will you let me clean you up? I don't mind doing it as long as you're comfortable with me doing it" he just nodded and started to unravel his half wrapped arms, as if he tried to stop the bleeding himself and hide it before you came through the door. Whilst you cleaned his wounds, you kissed each one gently - saying that you will kiss each one of them better before you put them to bed. The two of you laughed and giggled at some pointless small talk, your attempt to make light of the situation and by doing so, the boyfriend you know and love started to come back to life too.

"Please never leave me y/n. I'm so lucky to have you in my life I couldn't bear to lose you to anything"

"I'm not going anywhere, if anything, I should be worrying about you" you giggled. Dazai dug his hand into his deep coat pocket and sighed a very relieved sigh. He pulled out a black box and opened it. In front of you was a thin silver ring with a black rose stone on the top with a ruby in the middle. Your eyes lit up and you were speechless yet again.

"I promise from this day that I will never try to kill myself again, as long as I have you by my side, I have no reason to purposely die. Y/n, will you marry me?"

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

[dingusfreakhxrrington]

Hi! If I ask you, can you write a shot about Halbrand?

Reader is the daughter of Gil Galad and Sauron seduces her with his beautiful words, but then Galadriel discovers Halbrand's true identity and he becomes all dark, claiming reader and taking her with him to Mordor.

Maybe with different POVs?

🐈🧝‍♀️👍

The End of All Things

pairing: halbrand/sauron x fem!reader

summary: when great deceptions come into light, the noldor princess must choose her side.

warnings: elf!reader, betrayal, toxic relationship, mentions of violence, mentions of war, mentions of death, mentions of imprisonment, angst

word count: 1.7k

a/n: thank you for this request! i had a lot of fun writing this 🤍

read on ao3

friendly reminder that comments and reblogs are just as (if not more than) important as likes!

The daughter of Gil Galad by the Dark Lord’s side? None would have ever foreseen it, not even the princess herself.

You had met him when he first came to your cities. A man — a king — wounded in battle. A battle he had fought alongside none other than Galadriel, the commander of the northern armies.

She bought him to the Elves knowing that only their medicine could save him. She trusted him and took him into her ranks. Not only as the king of the Southlands but also as a friend.

Even she had not foreseen his deceit.

When he first arrived, you were soon by his side. A Noldor princess who had been studying medicine alongside the art of war. Trained a warrior but peaceful and kind by nature.

You wanted to tend to him personally, seeing as he was such a close friend to Galadriel. She must have had much trust in him to bring an outsider to her home — to your home. Healing him was an important task and even your father knew no one else was better suited to the task.

That was how you came to know him. Over the days he spent undergoing treatment you had learnt much about the new king of men.

For instance, he liked to make snarky jokes to hide how he was truly feeling. If he was ever in pain, another snide remark would fall from his lips followed by a deep chuckle as he tried to convince even himself that he was alright. You always saw through the façade.

Then, there was his charisma. Words like honey adorned by a handsome smirk every time the two of you spoke. Confident flirts danced across his poisonous tongue and soon began to puppet the strings of your heart.

It wasn’t long before you started to fall.

Before long he was up and about again, walking around despite the pain that still lingered from his wounds. By then, he already had you. Heart and soul.

He got along with the smiths soon enough, helping them with tips and pointers as they tried to uncover the secrets of mithril.

It was only then that Galadriel began to doubt his motives. She had brought him to Middle Earth with her, after all. He had protested her at every turn, wishing to be left alone to his own devices. She had even been the one to make him a king.

In her blind faith, your own arose. You had little reason to doubt the man who had arrived alongside Galadriel, her guest, and even then he had managed to captivate you in ways you could not describe.

In such a short amount of time, he filled your heart and became everything to you. He was your sun at dusk, your moon at dawn. He was the very stars that flickered in your eyes. All you wished for in this world was to be with him, to live out your days by his side.

It was foolish of you to want for a man, one who would lead a mortal life and grow old far before you. Then again, perhaps a part of you had always known there was something more to him — something strong, something powerful.

He was no mere man. He was one of the Maiar, perhaps the strongest of their kind, and the most destructive.

His web of lies knew no bounds, sprawling and twining until it was so thick you could barely glimpse the deep, dark fire behind it.

His name was not Halbrand, nor was he the rightful king of the Southlands. He was no friend to the elves and he did not love you the way you loved him, no matter how many times he proclaimed it. At least, you knew there was a slim chance of it.

When Galadriel had come to you with her concerns you had dismissed her. It wasn’t because you did not believe her but rather because you did not want to. You were conflicted, fighting an internal battle with yourself as you went over it again and again in your head.

The Southlands did not have an heir. Halbrand was not who he said he was. Galadriel had been wrong about him, you all had.

You knew where she had gone, knew she would have left you only to confront him herself.

By the time you arrived, it was already too late. She had a dagger to his throat and there was this look in his eyes… a darkness you had never seen in them before.

They fought but she stood no chance. She was not prepared to face him, not physically or mentally. His tricks and illusions — whatever he was showing her — it was too much. You saw a tear run down her cheek before she snapped out of the trance and lunged at him again, fury like dragons breath in her eyes.

In but a moment she was on the ground, knocked out cold from the harsh impact of her head against the rocky ground below.

Only then did he look at you and, as if their fight had not transpired at all, he returned to the façade he named Halbrand.

“Princess…” He held his hand out to you as he moved closer. You only moved back so he spoke again, “Please, y/n.”

“Y-you’re him… Sauron.”

His eyes grew icy once again, the darkness within him taking hold and, before you knew what was happening, it was as if all of time had become still.

You were not sure how long you were trapped inside your own mind, living through what he wanted you to see. The conversations you had once had together repeating themselves over and over again, changing slightly each time — moulding into a sick distortion of what you remembered.

Once you could no longer bear it anymore, you started to dream of things that had not yet happened. You dreamt of facing him on the battlefield, plunging your sword through him to save the people you loved.

You killed him over and over again until you could kill him no more.

All the while, he had been on the move, travelling across Middle Earth with your spelled body. You were trapped in a prison of his own making and, although such a thing would have been a feat for any other sorcerer, he kept you under without so much as breaking a sweat.

By the time your eyes finally opened again, you were far from your home.

It was not a cell but rather a home. One normal in all but its own nature. You recognised it, the building and furniture mimicking what you had seen in the Southlands.

Impossible, you thought for the Southlands were nothing but ash now. Yet, here you were and, when you looked through the window, there they were. The Southlands, greener than ever before with hills and fields and farms and life. So much life…

Then, the door opened and you caught a glimpse of the harsh reality behind him before he closed the door tight, as if to seal it from the darkness that resided outside.

“This is not real.”

He simply smiled, almost elegant in nature as he came further into the room. “It is as real as you and I.”

“You did this… All of it.”

His features remained soft as he spoke. “I did none of it. Galadriel is the one who found me and pulled me back to Middle Earth. I did not want this, I wished to be left alone.”

“In the Sundering Seas? Where were you going if you were not to return to Middle Earth?”

He sighed. All he wished for was to get through to you, for you to understand.

“I wanted forgiveness. I wanted to make amends for what I have done. I wanted to change.”

You scoffed, “To change? You will never change. You could have said no, you did not have to follow Galadriel. She put you exactly where you wanted to be. A king, a ruler, a deceiver.”

“I never meant to deceive you. I never meant to deceive anyone. You must believe me, I truly wanted to help.”

More than anything, you wanted to believe him, but you already knew what path he had chosen.

“And now?”

“I do not believe Galadriel and I crossed paths by coincidence. Fate put us both on that boat and fate brought me back to Middle Earth. It is my destiny to rule, to unite the lands.”

Lies, more lies. Although, you were unsure who he was lying to. You, or himself.

You stepped closer to him, hostile in stance. “Unite the lands? You wish to destroy and concur. How many more must die before you are satisfied? How much more blood will you spill to sit on your decrepit throne?”

Only then did his demeanour change once again as darkness consumed him. He raised his voice, all manor of elegance crushed under the wrath in his eyes. “You will see. You will understand and you will join me!”

“I will never join you,” you spat through gritted teeth.

His breathing began to calm but his anger remained. He turned from you and spoke again only after he had reached out for the door.

“In time, you will.”

He did not once turn back to face you, not even as you ran after him but, before you could reach him, the door was shut tight once again. You pushed and pulled and threw yourself into the splintering wood but it would not budge.

His magic was strong. Strong enough to keep you locked away until the day you joined him. Strong enough to rebuild this home and turn it into a well-crafted prison. Strong enough to destroy Middle Earth, in time.

In time, it would all come to an end whether you chose his side or not. Still, you would not break. You would not cave despite the love you still felt in your heart for him for the man you had loved was not real, Halbrand was not real. Not anymore. Only Sauron remained.

feel free to let me know if you want to be added to or removed from my taglist!

taglist: @idwtet @samblackblog @nebulosa-reina @valkyrie418

[coldbloodeddevil]

Get ready for the next battle

Name Kazuya Mishima Hachijo

Age: 50 (Or lower depending on time scale)

Nationality: None

Place of Origin: Japan

Species: Human(Devil Gene Carrier)

Profession: CEO of G Corporation(?)

Hobbies: Collecting Sneakers, Meditation, Forest Bathing.

Likes: Power, Freedom, His Mother, His Grandfather, Jun Kazama, His Adoptive Brother (Sometimes), Cats Dislikes: Feeling Powerless, His Father, His adoptive Brother (Sometimes), His Half Siblings,

General Personality: Stoic at the best of times, Cold and Ruthless at the worst of times. Kazuya is a man of few words. To those who do not know him. He's a stand offish yet professional figure who does not mince his words.

To his enemies, he is the Devil incarnate. A monster in human guise with a brutal desire to see them suffer.

Yet to the few he calls friends and fewer still his love. Kazuya is a caring, loyal man who would move heaven and earth for them. Even if he doesn't always express it.

Inner Personality: A troubled man who hides his trauma and loss under a veneer of cold calculated calm. Kazuya is someone shaped by the scars of his past, fueled by his wish to never again, have his freedom denied to him due to the cruelty of others. Even if it means the rest of the world burns.

Yet under this hardened shell, poisoned by his Father's brutal teachings and the whisperings of a devil that has been with him since birth. Lays someone who l wants to be better. But feels as if he has no other choice. Nobody like him could change.

Right?

Bio: Kazuya Mishima was born as the only son of Kasumi and Heihachi Mishima. His first four years of life were idyllic. adored by his mother and grandfather. The heir of his family's legacy. Everything was howa childhood should be.

Then when he was five, everything came crashing down.

Jinpachi Mishima, his beloved grandfather was betrayed by his own son, Kazuya's father and sealed beneath Hon Maru, the family's ancestral temple to starve and die. Then his dearest Mother was killed by the very same man.

In grief and rage, the young boy tried to confront his father, to avenge his mother. But he was too young, too small, against Heihachi. Who after beating his own child into unconsciousness. Plunged him down a deep Ravine. It should have been the end, it would have been for any other child. But from his mother's side, he was both blessed and cursed with the devil gene. His brush with death awakened the devil inside him. Who promised Kazuya power and revenge. Accepting the Devil's deal. Kazuya lived on.

For the rest of his life, he trained, schemed and fought for power..

…Until he met her.

Jun Kazama changed him. She was fearless, mysterious and strong in ways he couldn't help but be drawn too. She offered Kazuya peace, acceptance, unconditional love. Things he needed more then power. It awoke something in him. Something pure.

But it also caused him turmoil and clashes with Devil. Who simultaneously loathed and loved her. She was a risk to his control.

This turmoil, resulted in Kazuya's death at the hands of his father. Plunged again to doom. Yet the lava of the volcano saw that he would be no more.

Until they brought him back. G Corporation, seeking the secrets of the devil gene, brought Kazuya back from he dead. He accepted their terms and faced unbelievable torment in teturn for knowledge and the chance of getting everything he lost back.

Instead, he was betrayed and in his rage, had the entire board of directors slain. With himself at the head of the company.

Before this, he learnt that he had a son. Jin Kazama. But also that his beloved Jun had perished.

Now bitter and the battle between him and devil resuming. Kazuya fights once more to get everything back.

[latte-fairytaekwoon]

Wolf! Ateez: Finding Their Mate

Warnings: Mentions of violence, war, allusions to death, captivity, forced labor, angsty themes, suggestive scenarios, fantasy worlds, appearances of other mythological creatures.

Next>>

❥𝓚𝓲𝓶 𝓗𝓸𝓷𝓰𝓳𝓸𝓸𝓷𝓰

Being the next in line to lead the pack was a very stressful job for Hongjoong. Although he had looked forward to becoming the Alpha for a long time, hoping to change and reform some laws in their system so life would be better, he found his efforts often thwarted by his dad's and the council's old fashioned ideas. What was the point in being trained to lead a pack when everyone shut him out and never gave him a chance to speak?

More often than not, he found himself running off deep into the forest, even trailing through the more dangerous and forbidden areas just to feel as if he was free for a few hours, without anyone telling him he was wrong. During one of these trails, he felt off. His sense of alert was heightened while his wolf was feeling rather unsettled. Closing his eyes, he perked his ears as he heard and felt someone coming his way. His wolf of course got in attack mode, knowing a lot of rogues wandered around there. Hearing a branch snap nearby, he shifted immediately and lunged at the person behind, none other than you. He took you down quite easily since you were significantly smaller and weaker than him, your body landing harshly on the ground without putting up much resistance. His snarling soon stopped when you lifted your face and you saw each other for the first time. While you were still terrified of the beast trapping you down, your wolf was going giddy at finally finding your mate.

"If you're going to get rid of me, just get it over with. I won't fight you even if I had the strength to." You spoke up in a weak voice.

Hongjoong whined lowly when he heard your frail and delicate voice, feeling pain at the state you were in.

"I think it's more than clear to me and you that even if I'm supposed to, I'll never be able to follow through on that."

Getting off you, he transformed back into human form, offering you his hand and helping you up. You were so weak you nearly fell to the ground again had Hongjoong not held you up in his arms. You were severely malnourished and pale, barely weighing anything to him as he held you up.

"You're a rogue aren't you?"

Of course you were. Life as a rogue was tough and barely survivable in those parts of the country.

"Yes..." You breathed out, and even that was a struggle.

"What's your name?" Hongjoong brushed some hairs out of your dirt covered face.

"Y/N." Through much effort, you managed to answer him.

"Y/N." He repeated, his heart leaping when he heard your name.

You could only nod your head before your body started to give out, collapsing from exhaustion. Picking you up bridal style, Hongjoong ran as fast as he could back to the safe side of the woods, hoping to find some food and water for you. He had to. Even though he himself was tired, his wolf urged and pushed him to hurry.

"We just found our mate and we're not about to lose her."

❥𝓟𝓪𝓻𝓴 𝓢𝓮𝓸𝓷𝓰𝓱𝔀𝓪

Being a member of one of the richest and powerful families in the land, Seonghwa grew up with life handed to him on a gold platter. His family and others around doted on him. He never wanted for anything. He had the world practically at his disposal.

Very different from you. First off, you weren't even a wolf. You were human and from a young age you learned what it was like to live in fear of the beasts that surrounded you. You watched as they destroyed your once peaceful village, killing off all your loved ones, and dragging some of you off to be forced into a life of servitude to them. And you couldn't do anything but submit. You had to learn to grow up quick as your childhood and family was stripped away, burnt to the ground like the quaint town you once called home.

And above all, you learnt to hate them. You hated the wolves with every fiber of your being. And it was your hatred for them that often got you into trouble. That's why you never lasted long serving one household for long before you were sold off to another one, only for the cycle to repeat itself over and over again. Til eventually, you ended up at the mansion the Parks owned, a very grand and extensive estate that other human servants wouldn't think twice about working in, the other girls often gushing about how it was ten times better working there than any other place.

"We're still servants and they're still wolves. In the end of the day, if you piss them off enough they won't hesitate to rip your throat out or hunt you for sport. Don't get comfortable just yet ladies." You responded one day when they asked you if you liked working there, bringing them back to the reality of the harsh prejudice against humans, whom wolves looked down on them for being weak and inferior.

"Y/N, I need you to take this upstairs to the young master."

You didn't want to but had to nonetheless. You had never met any of the family members and you weren't particularly looking forward to it. Knocking on the door, you waited until you were given permission to enter before coming in. You walked up to the handsome young male, his suit in hand held out in perfect order to him. He had a stunned look on his face, his orbs growing dark as he stared at you intensely. Living long enough to understand wolves, you knew exactly what was going on, and although you felt a tugging in your chest, you were not happy with the situation.

"Your suit for the ball my Lord."

With a straight face, you set it down on the bed before curtsying to him, indicating you were leaving. Before you could turn around, Seonghwa was gripping your arm, the instant he touched you, sparks were felt in both your bodies.

"You feel it too don't you? You understand what this means?" Hearing the calm, serene and excited tone in his voice sickened you. Without thinking twice, you pulled your hand away, the harshness of it making Seonghwa's wolf whine sadly.

"Don't get ahead of yourself. I hate you and your kind."

Seonghwa stood there stunned as you walked out without another word, his wolf yelping out in pain at your rejection.

"Our mate.........hates us?"

❥𝓙𝓮𝓸𝓷𝓰 𝓨𝓾𝓷𝓱𝓸

Wolves by default did not trust sorcerers due to their scheming and mischievous natures, and sorcerers preferred not to meddle or make business with wolves due to their volatile and emotionally driven temperaments. They were two completely different beings, polar opposites as ones often preferred letting instinct and emotions guide them while the others prided themselves in being rational and intellectual beings that knew how to separate their feelings when making decisions, thus making them some of the wisest people to roam the earth.

But their differences had to be put aside in this instance if they wanted a strong business and political relationship that would benefit both sides. As one of the ambassadors of the monarchy, Yunho was one of the men dispatched to negotiate matters with the Sorcerer King. He clutched the blanket tighter around his body as the carriage drove on, unable to stand the blistering cold weather of the snow filled kingdom. As he looked out the window, he felt his heart skip a beat briefly when he caught sight of someone walking along the road, barely seeing their face as it was covered by a thick cloak. He tried to brush it off, but something was telling him that he should have stopped the carriage and gone over to see them. But he had more pressing matters to attend to.

"Welcome to my humble home gentlemen. I hope you all enjoy your stay with us. Rest assure all your needs will be cared for." The old King welcomed them with a warmth that contrasted the chilly and icy atmosphere around them.

Gesturing for some people behind him to step up, he briefly introduced them as his family. His wife, and kids, which were several of them, welcomed them all, some more reserved than others, but overall there was no animosity.

"There's another one, my oldest daughter but she seems nowhere to be found-"

Right at that moment, the doors opened and in came a figure covered in snow. Yunho recognized the pale blue coat from before and the once undistinguished feeling finally became clear when you pulled the hood off and let your face be shown, the visitors letting out audible gasps of shock and astonishment at the beauty you possessed. You barely spared a glance at them though, looking through them to the man on the throne who was looking displeased.

"My apologies gentlemen. You'll have to forgive me daughter. It seems she got caught up in a little storm."

You showed absolute no expression as you bowed your head to them, briefly walking past them as you tried to keep your head down. However, feeling someone stare at you, you lifted your face up briefly to find Yunho staring at you with such tenderness that both confused and warmed you a little. But you continued walking to take your place next to your siblings as Yunho still had the lovestruck expression plastered on.

"She's our mate! But she's a sorceress! How? Is this possible!" His wolf wouldn't contain himself, going berserk at this revelation.

"Who cares if it's possible or not? Look at her and tell me even if she wasn't destined for us that you wouldn't fall for her." Yunho counteracted, his wolf impressed by his response.

"I can't disagree with that."

❥𝓚𝓪𝓷𝓰 𝓨𝓮𝓸𝓼𝓪𝓷𝓰

Finishing putting on his suit, Yeosang grabbed his crossbow and checked it to make sure that it was in perfect condition. Satisfied, he picked up more arrows before coming out of his tent to join the other warriors who were preparing to go scouting the area. Their unit commander came up and looked them all dead in the eye.

"Remember, try not to engage in one on one combat with the enemy. Leave that to that strength force. Your job is to hide in the shadows and take them out without being seen. Only shift into wolf form if there is no alternative. Save your energy as much as you can. Am I clear?"

"Yes sir!" A chorus of soldiers chimed out before dispersing themselves quietly at different directions into the deep forest, disappearing without a trace and hiding until the opposing army started marching out towards them.

Making sure to mask his scent with dirt, mud and even some of the rainwater that had fallen earlier, Yeosang quickly climbed on top of a tall and thick tree, using the branches to cover his body away from any prying eyes. Now he just had to wait, wait until they started coming out so he could take them out one by one as he stayed hidden in the shadows. This was the most nerve wrecking moment for him, sitting quietly, all alone as he awaited for something to happen.

Soon enough, he heard loud clamors coming from the side. Sneakily looking out, he saw a dozen of wolves launching at each other, some of which he recognized as his fellow mates, the others were the opposing side. Being swift as he was, he aimed the crossbow at each of the enemies, helping to take kill them all off. The rest of his surviving members signaled they were going to search the area for survivors, meaning Yeosang now had to move to another area to help out. Just as he was coming down, you sharply grabbed onto his ankle, throwing him to the ground and dragging him away. He kicked you in your snout and gained enough time to get up and reach for his crossbow. Just as he was about to shoot you, who was also going to lunge at him, you both halted when you felt the inevitable connection between them. Both of you had a horrified expression.

"Yeosang! We heard a struggle! Do you need help?"

Hearing one of his friends coming, Yeosang looked back at you. He knew he had to say something or shoot you down, but he couldn't. Reluctantly, he put his bow down.

"No! I'm fine! Just go on, the other guys might need help."

He let out a sigh of relief when he heard them retreat back to where they came from. Just as soon as he let his guard down, he looked back to find you shifted into human form, tackling him to the ground as you pressed a knife to his neck.

"You killed my pack! You dirty son of a bitch! I'm going to-"

You couldn't finish your sentence as your wolf growled at you for putting your hands on your mate, strongly telling you to put the knife down and get off him. Yeosang could feel the conflict in you, he himself was going through the same thing.

"Go ahead. Do it. Kill me now. I won't stop you... I can't stop you." He urged you, knowing fully well you weren't going to.

You cried in frustration and agony at realizing you couldn't do it and at knowing you hurt your mate. Throwing the knife to the ground, you shifted back to wolf form and started running as far away as possible. You didn't get far enough as Yeosang himself shifted and tackled you down, firmly pressing you to the ground to keep you from moving.

"You're not going anywhere."

❥𝓒𝓱𝓸𝓲 𝓢𝓪𝓷

Your friend was practically beaming with joy at the thought of finally meeting the man her parents had betrothed her to. She had been dreaming about this moment her entire life, planned it out to a T.

"I just know the moment we see each other, we'll fall in love." She sighed blissfully as she arranged her dress one more time.

"I wouldn't get too excited Bona. You know wolf bonds are something else." You kindly tried to remind her.

She simply ignored you as she often did to anyone who tried to tell her differently from what she believed.

"My parents had an arranged marriage and they learnt to love each other. They're very happy together. " She said so confidently.

"Yes, after they were forced to create the mate bond against their wishes and amidst the pressure, therefore breaking the link with whomever their real mate was supposed to be." Your wolf was internally rolling her eyes at the stupidity of her statement, unable to stand the thought of two individuals being forced together without a hint of love between them.

She wasn't the only one who thought so, as the young man forced to attend the event held for him and his betrothed was fuming in his seat, refusing to get out, arms tightly crossed over his chest.

"You can't make me." He sternly affirmed, his wolf also refusing to budge.

"San stop the nonsense and come out of there." His father spoke up.

Eventually he was forced out of the vehicle and practically dragged through the garden to go meet his fiancee and her parents, who were extremely excited and overly happy to finally meet him, having heard so many things about him. His wolf cringed and gagged at the young girl's shrilly and high pitched voice that squealed intensely when he took her hand and shook it, feeling absolutely no sparks at the touch nor when he looked at her eyes.

"Can't say we didn't feel anything bud. I definitely felt like throwing up that deer we ate earlier." His wolf shuddered.

"Oh God, I thought that was just me." San chuckled.

As they showed them around the gardens, San opted for staying behind the entourage, trying hard to avoid the girl that was trying to latch herself onto her arm less his wolf took over and lashed out in anger at her. He definitely didn't want to cause a scene. As they were walking through the front of the building, one of the butlers was on the second floor of the house, arranging the flower pots that served as decorations. Accidentally knocking one over, San watched in horror as you were coming out of the front door at the moment, not having a clue about the falling object. In a flash, he ran over to you, being a fast runner it was no problem as he held you back and pressed you back into wall. You didn't need to ask why a stranger suddenly manhandled you as the flower pot soon splattered on the floor, no doubt it would have broken your head had it landed on it.

"Are you o....kay?" San let out a soft gasp when he looked at you.

There it was. He finally felt it. The spark and instant attraction he'd often heard other wolves talk about. There was absolutely no denying it. You yourself couldn't keep yourself from smiling, both you and your wolf melting at your mate's beautiful smile.

"Oh... I'm more than ok."

❥𝓢𝓸𝓷𝓰 𝓜𝓲𝓷𝓰𝓲

"Where you heading off to Mingi?" His friend Yunho casually asked, noticing how he was packing up some stuff in his backpack, including a water bottle and a few fruits and snacks.

"Off into the woods. It's been a while since I went on a hike." He answered.

"Don't go off to far though. You know there's been a lot of rogue sightings and I heard they're pretty vicious." Yunho warned him.

"Pfft. Rogues don't scare me. I'll be fine. It's them who should watch out if they decide to cross me."

Yunho could only snicker at that. Mingi wasn't wrong. Although he was a pretty chill and laid back person, no one dared to anger him because the beast inside of him was something else, something dangerous and terrifying that if let loose could cause a lot of damage.

Mingi inhaled the fresh air as he casually strolled across the dirt path. It was a nice day, the weather not too hot and there was a light breeze flowing through that was absolutely refreshing. Spotting a nearby tree that had a cozy amount of shade in it, he sat down and opened up his backpack to take out an apple he had brought along. Taking a bite out of it, he was just about to relax when a howling sound put him on alert mode. Peeking his head out discreetly, he widened his eyes when your small figure emerged from some of the bushes a few feet away from him. Although he was ecstatic at seeing you and feeling that instant love for you, his wolf whimpered when they saw that you were badly hurt and bleeding.

"Our mate! She's hurt! Why is she hurt?"

He was going berserk at your state and then soon turned furious when a rogue wolf emerged from behind you. It was clear as daylight that he had been hunting you, Mingi could smell that you were human and thus the perfect prey for his opponent. The terror in your eyes was unmistakable as you realized you had nowhere to run or hide.

"Don't just stand there you idiot! She's our mate! We must protect her!"

Mingi quickly shifted, running out of his hiding spot and lunged at the rogue just in time before he could manage to sink his canines into your neck. Being thrown to the ground, the other wolf was ready to fight back but upon seeing Mingi's size, he knew it would be a lost battle. So instead he snarled at him before retreating back to where he came from.

Turning his attention back to you, Mingi ran up to you as he examined your wounds, letting out a whine when he saw the gruesome bite on your ankle. And his wolf cried when you flinched away at his touch when he tried to lick up some of the blood.

"Why is she afraid of us?! Can't she see we're trying to protect her?!"

Mingi sighed as he tried to calm his wolf down.

"She's human, she doesn't fully understand yet. She will soon enough, but for now, let's just try to take things slow and take care of our mate. She'll love us soon enough, but right now, let's try to calm her down."

❥𝓙𝓾𝓷𝓰 𝓦𝓸𝓸𝔂𝓸𝓾𝓷𝓰

He was the pack's playboi and there was nothing that repulsed him more than to know that he'd have someone destined to him for life.

"One person? For the rest of your life? Yeah no, I think I'll pass." He shook his head as he slumped back a sip of his beer.

"You can't run from your destiny Woo. We're all going to meet them eventually and be tied together forever." San reminded him, a tiny and goofy smile creeping into his features.

"Plus don't you think it'll be so romantic? Seeing your mate for the first time? Glimpsing into their eyes for the first time and being instantly drawn to them? Touching their hand and feeling that chemistry surge through both of you? Inhaling their scent? Oh my god- I think I'll go insane if my partner smells like mint chocolate." He giggled and squealed, making the other wolf look at him with an accusatory glare.

"No. That's silly and stupid shit. Makes you brain dead. Look. Seonghwa is a perfectly clear example of it." He pointed towards the older wolf who was strolling by with his mate, both of them looking like lovesick puppies as they nuzzled their noses together.

"Whatever you still have to attend the Mating ball." His friend scoffed.

Wooyoung wasn't too worried about it. Year after year since he was 18, he'd attend the ball and the results were the same. He'd feel no connection with anyone, only left the building with a few hickeys plastered around his neck and with his pants all wrinkled up with the belt undone. That was the only fun he'd have at the events.

But for some reason as he made out with the girl he just met, his wolf was suddenly trying to pull him away, feeling disgusted by the sloppy kisses being placed on Wooyoung's neck. Realizing he couldn't fully enjoy himself like that, Wooyoung excused himself and left the girl hanging there, looking appalled at being rejected.

"Hey man, what's your deal? You never complained before." Wooyoung argued.

"I don't know.... it just didn't feel right...."

Wooyoung himself was feeling weird as well. Hoping to clear his thoughts, he decided to take a walk around the room, looking over at the familiar and unfamiliar faces around him. Maybe he could find San and hopefully get him to agree to spike the punch or something. As he rounded the corner, a scent caught his attention, but he couldn't quite make it out. Sniffing harder, he followed the scent that was intoxicating him until he came up to a table....

And then he saw you....... with another guy's arm wrapped around you. It made his blood boil and his wolf was snarling at the stranger.

"Get your hands off her." Wooyoung spoke out instinctively, pushing past all obstacles until he tore you out of your date's embrace, who was appalled at having someone take you away.

You on the other hand didn't fight it. You couldn't and you simply let Wooyoung drag you outside until he pressed you against one of the trees in the garden. Pressing his face against your neck, he growled as he discerned another male's scent on you.

"You reek like him." He commented, rubbing his nose across your neck in hopes of scenting himself on you. You let out a scoff at his boldness.

"You have no say.... I could smell her perfume on you from miles away."

❥𝓒𝓱𝓸𝓲 𝓙𝓸𝓷𝓰𝓱𝓸

If there was anything that Jongho hated more than anything, it was rogue wolves. More specifically, he hated the damage they inflicted upon the different towns and villages on the outskirts of the city. Houses would be ransacked, people were killed or dragged off to who knows where. They were cold blooded killers that murdered indiscriminately, male, females, children, wolves, humans. They saw absolutely no distinction. And as he looked at the burning town in front of him, his hatred for them only grew.

"Search for survivors or any clue as to where they must have gone." The captain spoke out.

Everyone was mostly searching for anything that might give hints as to the rogue's hideout or their next target. There were never any survivors so they knew that it was pointless to waste their time on it. It saddened them really, to see the piles of bodies scattered about.

Jongho looked into each of the houses, at least the ones he could still get in to. He was careful of all the falling debris and concrete that could potentially trap him inside. Searching the area, his wolf suddenly got on the defense.

"I feel something... I sense something.."

Getting on his guard in case any rogue was hiding, Jongho squinted his eyes and scanned every single corner. He was slow and careful as he opened the door to every room, finding nothing but tossed furniture and blood splatter on the walls. Having found nothing, he walked back to the living room, where his wolf felt the same strange sensation, and Jongho was feeling it too. On a hunch, he moved the tapestry on the floor. Just as he suspected, there was a handle on the floor, no doubt leading to an underground basement of some sort. Bending down, he had no trouble lifting the heavy panel as he was strong even in his human form. He fanned out the dust that flew out, slightly coughing.

"Hello?! Is there anyone up there? Help!"

Realizing someone was down there, Jongho quickly climbed down the staircase to find you cowering in the corner, shaking with fear and looking awfully pale.

"Oh my God....is she...?" Jongho internally asked.

"Yes. That's our mate. And she's shivering."

Jongho quickly came up to you, taking off his coat and draping it around you in a gentle manner. Although he was saddened that you didn't react to seeing him, he understood it was because you were human and couldn't feel the bond just yet. And he didn't want to scare you, so all he could do was safely get you out of there and take you back home with him.

"It's my mate and it's my duty to protect her."

Gifs not mine. Credit goes to their respective owners

[dameronology]

wait on {din djarin x reader}

summary: boba fett is a good therapist, and din djarin is spectacular at being nosey. the result? a much needed conversation. perhaps there’s a silver lining. {kinda based on this song}

warnings: angst, language, swearing, s2 spoilers

this one hurts a lil bit but i promise the ending is happy. enjoy!!

-jazz

The air between you was thick, not unlike the beskar that the Mandalorian was wearing. 

It was funny, really, because you’d never minded the armour all that much before. Your ability to see straight through it and see Din Djarin for what he really was had been what made him fall in love with you, and you with him. Now, it felt like a barrier between you. Inches of thick metal and fabric, shielding him from the world around him. From you. The one person he usually held closest to his heart; the one person he’d let see his face for the first time in years. The man was hardly a conversationalist at the best of times but he’d opened up to you. Shared his world with you and intertwined it with yours. Built something with you that you'd both protect with your lives. 

Now, he was straying away. Forever attached by an invisible string, but with galaxies and galaxies between you. Even though he was mere inches from you, sat two seats over, there was a chilly air; if your relationship was a warm, welcoming house, the atmosphere he’d plunged you both into was the cold winter’s night on the other side of the glass. You wanted to go back, to drag him inside and slam and bolt the door behind you. Instead, you were forced to watch through the windows, knowing what was there but never quite truly getting close enough to let it envelope you. 

You couldn’t hold it against him. The last few weeks had been rough on you both, and it only come to a head today. Grogu had been taken by the Imps and the Crest had been blown up before your very eyes. It was one of those times that truly and wholly showed the difference between you and Din: you sought him out and he pulled away. You’d learnt a long time ago not to follow him. You wanted to. Fuck, you wanted to, but you’d learnt the hard way that it was a bad idea. 

Despite the icy silence and ache for your kidnapped toad son, you were still grateful for the fact Boba Fett had offered his ship as transport and shelter. You weren’t entirely sure what his deal was, but Din seemed to trust him, and so by extension, you did too. Things were a little cramped in the hull of the ship, but there was a spare sleeping quarters for you and the Mandalorian to squish into, assuming he’d let you. You didn’t want to ask him, because you were scared of the answer. 

Instead, you found yourself sat out on the dusty plains of...wherever the hell you were. Boba had parked the ship up overnight so that you could rest; it seemed to be some kind of desert planet. Not too different to Nevarro or Tatooine, but perhaps a little colder. The sky had long faded to black, casting a darkness over the sandy plains ahead of you. The chilly air was a welcome contrast against the stuffiness of the bedroom - it wasn’t even hot in there, just filled with some kind of inexplicable tension. And not the sexy kind; the regular, all-consuming type. You could feel it slowly etching into your frontal lobe, sinking in its claws and giving you a stress head-ache. Letting out a few deep breaths, you let the gusts of cold wind blow over your bare arms. 

‘A little cold out here, isn’t it?’

The voice was gravelly and unfamiliar, but one that you knew belonged to Boba Fett. 

‘Yeah, maybe.’ You didn’t turn around to look, instead letting your eyes stay focused on the distance. There was nothing ahead. Just darkness and sand. ‘Fresh air is nice, though.’

‘Or maybe the air inside is bad.’ He countered. Boba took a seat on the rock beside you, jokingly whacking his knee against yours. ‘What’s on your mind?’

‘Just...what happened today, I suppose.’ You replied. ‘We lost the kid, and our ship.’

‘You’re handling it better than your Mandalorian.’ He replied. 

‘I don’t think he’s my Mandalorian.’ You snorted. ‘He’s just...he doesn’t normally deal with so much at once. I think he just needs time to process it all, you know?’

‘Perhaps.’ Boba said. ‘And do you always make excuses for him?’

‘I beg your sweet pardon?’ You turned to look at him. 

‘Forgive me if I’m overstepping, but I’ve always been an observant man.’ He began. ‘I saw how you immediately went to him, to check on him, and how you fought beside him,  yet he’s barely even looked at you.’

‘Ouch.’ You muttered. ‘You might be observant you but certainly do not tread lightly.’

‘My apologies.’ He curtly nodded. 

‘It’s not always been like this.’ Your words felt forced. You were making excuses. ‘And it won’t always be.’

‘You know him better than anyone, or so I assume.’ Boba reminded you. ‘But don’t be afraid to remind him what he has, despite what he’s lost.’

He was right. Din could be distant, and he could be fucking ignorant without even trying, but you hadn’t strayed from his side once. Not for a second. It could be frustrating to deal, with but you loved him with your whole being, in a soul-consuming sorta way, and you knew he was capable of coming around. Your mother had always preached songs of love being patient and kind but as you saw it, it was frustrating, and at times the most inconvenient thing in the world. You must have had the patience of a saint to deal with him. He was just lucky he made it worth it (and that underneath all the armour, he wasn’t too bad to look at. It certainly helped his case). 

You let out a sad laugh. ‘I couldn’t. Di - Mando already struggles to express his feelings and I’d only make it worst if I said he wasn’t doing it well enough.’

‘You know your worth.’ Boba said. ‘Only you can decide if he appreciates it enough.’

‘He does.’ You quickly replied. ‘I know he does.’ 

He gave you a doubtful look, one that said I think you’re bullshitting, but I won’t disagree. He was simply sharing his observations, even if they were a little much. But the man hadn’t had any proper social interaction for a long time, so you could hardly blame him - and he had a sort of wise air to him, like he’d been round the block a couple times. He certainly seemed like the sort of person you should listen to.

‘I’ll leave you with this: the life of a Mandalorian is complicated.’ He dusted off his knees, before standing up. ‘You should make sure it’s worth it before you fully commit.’

‘I-’ you tried to speak, but you were cut off by the sound of a twig snapping under someone’s boot. Why the fuck were there twigs in the desert? More to the point, why was that your immediate thought? 

You both sharply turned around, coming face-to-face with a Mandalorian. Not a Mandalorian, but the Mandalorian. The one you’d just been talking about. The one whose heart would have been broken into a million tiny pieces if he’d even a word of what you just said. And, from the way his helmet tilted ever so slightly to the left, you figured he’d heard more than enough. Fuck. 

'Don’t let me stop you.’ His modulated voice wavered ever so slightly. ‘I’ll see you inside.’

He turned on his heel, heavy steps taking him back towards the Slave I. To anyone else, his body language hadn’t changed, but you could read him like a book. A complicated book, and one that was missing more than half its pages and was in a dozen different fucking languages, but one you’d read a thousand times. Understanding Din Djarin was hard, and you’d only just begun -  barely touched the surface in fact - but it was more than anyone else could say. 

‘Wait!’ You leapt up, almost comically falling over as you rushed after him. 

Sensing that his presence was probably not welcome, Boba returned to his seat on the rock, silently hoping that Fennec Shand was either a) asleep, or b) had enough common sense to stay the fuck out of the way of whatever was about to go down. 

‘I swear to maker if you shut that door -’ you were cut off by...the door shutting in your face. Djarin: 1. You: 0.

You let out a small groan, slamming your fist against it. 

‘Okay, maybe I deserved that.’ You quietly muttered. ‘But will you please listen to me?’

Silence. 

‘Fine.’ You splayed your fingers out against the metal. ‘Ice me out, Din Djarin. I’m more than used to it by now.’

There was a gruff hmm from the other side of the door. Had he really just taken offence to that?

‘It’s funny, really.’ You continued. ‘Because the part of that conversation you didn’t hear was me defending you. Like I always fucking do, because I know that despite everything, you’re a human being and you love me.’

There was a small thud, as though Din had placed his hand in a similar position to yours.

‘But Boba has a point.’ Your voice fell to a whisper. ‘I keep giving and I get nothing back. Instead of letting me in, you just shut me out and I know you’re upset at what he said but for the love of everything holy in this shitty world, do not prove him right.’

It was a risky ultimatum, and not one you’d seen coming. Your chest had tightened as soon as the words left your mouth, because you knew that if Din stayed silent, that was it. You’d have to let him go; to accept that you would never get back what you putting in. Before, you were able to convince yourself that you were okay with that but maybe, just maybe you weren’t. Waiting around for something that had no guarantee of happening was like beating a dead horse that had no guarantee of coming back to life. The only thing that was promised was emotional exhaustion and then eventual death. You would have liked to have found something between those two waypoints - whether Din Djarin could be the one to give it to you? You didn’t know. 

After a moment of silence, the door finally opened, and you came face to face with him. Like actually face to face with him; no helmet, no armour. Just a loose tunic and tired brown eyes, matched with lazily-shaven facial hair and knitted brows. That was Din. Your Din. 

‘Can I just...can I just talk for a moment?’ He asked. ‘I have something to say and I want to get it right.’

‘Of course.’ You nodded. 

‘I’m not hurt by what you said.’ He stated. ‘I know I don’t show you enough love and it hurts that I don’t know how, but I am trying. I promise you that much.’

You gave him a tearful smile. ‘Yeah, I know.’

‘I just wish that you could say it to me and not to him.’ He murmured. ‘I don’t want you to hold back on anything, ever. You can always come to me. Even if it’s about me.’

‘I get that.’ Your eyes fell to the floor. ‘It’s just that I know you’re trying your best and I’m scared you’ll think that your best isn’t enough.’ 

‘It’s not.’ Din’s words took you by surprise. ‘It’s not enough, but one day, I hope it will be.’

‘I don’t know what to say, because if I deny it-’

‘- you don’t have to say anything.’ He cut you off. ‘I want to give you the world. And I will, if you’ll be patient with me.’

You took every word as gospel as he said it. The Mandalorian was a lot of things, but a liar wasn’t one of them. And to his credit, every promise he’d made to you before, he’d delivered on. You didn’t doubt for a second that this one would be the same. It wasn’t even naivety or wishful thinking. 

‘I mean, I’ve come this far.’ You tried to crack a joke. You finally looked up from the floor, his brown eyes meeting yours. 

‘I love you.’ He took your hands in his, words firm. ‘That’s all I can give you right now. I’m sorry.’

‘Din.’ The words barely come out as a whisper. ‘Never apologise. Please never apologise. I just...it’s nice to hear it, you know? A little more often than every time you almost die.’

‘Are the words enough on their own?’

‘Yes.’ You squeezed his hands. ‘Because I know you mean them.’

Din wrapped his arms you, pulling you tightly against his chest. It was warm and soft, miles away from the cold armour that so often greeted you. He held you tightly and with a new kind of might you were previously yet to experience, clinging onto you as though it were the last time. It wasn’t - it was far from the last time. Rather, it was the first time. The first time that he’d spoken of a future with you, or fully promised himself to you. You knew you would get there one day. You’d just needed him to say it himself before you could believe it. 

Din Djarin was giving you tiny little pieces on himself each day, and one day, you would have all of him. 

tags: @meshlababy @bo-kryze @poestardust @aqueencomplexx @princessxkenobi @cosmic-rich @captn-andor @buttercup--bee​ @maharani-radha​ @kat-r-in​

[starshipsofstarlord]

Stuck in 1903

Part Two

Masterlist

Summary: Damon and Bonnie had come to your rescue, or so you thought, but it is Kai’s every intention to get close to you again

Pairing: Kai Parker x reader

Warnings: angst, smidge of fluff, mentions of smut, mentions of death, mentions of murder, bad friendships, mentions of poison, swearing

Word Count: 2052

Find Part One Here

divider by @firefly-graphics

If the Other Side continued to exist, then you would be there rather than this subordinate prison world which had been designed for one bad witch. Kai's own kind feared him, you had experienced him mentally draining your energy, he was a chore to put up with, but he could do much more than that, you had learnt from Bonnie. He fed off magic, physically stealing it from bodies and items that harboured any of it, which had poisoned his mind to hunt for power. Your friends had informed you that he had murdered his siblings, well some of them anyway, and had attempted to do so to more of them. And now you knew, with supporting evidence, never to trust Malakai Parker.

Without Damon and Bonnie you had to resort to fending for yourself, which was not at all difficult since this version of Mystic Falls that you were trapped in was quite literally a ghost town. The forever enveloping silence was torture, though the method of ignorance had not been designed for you; it was all for Kai, and that unsettled you. There was one more thing that you had been dreading - the possibility that you could not escape from the remote isolation without the aid of the guest starring siphon himself. This hell was built to contain him for eternity, but now there was magic that he could use to his own advantage nearby.

Your cheek rested upon the side of your hand, mushing the flesh whilst your elbow was poised upon the countertop of the kitchen island in the Salvatore house. All of your concentration validated your deep thoughts, of which you were broken from as a plate was placed directly in front of you, a pancake decorated with chocolate chips and syrup to form a smiley face. Damon was the culprit as he threw a tea towel over his shoulder, expectedly looking at you.

"I'm not hungry." You informed the vampire, who simply frowned at your lack of an appetite. "I ate yesterday, which was technically today." Beneath the table, you crossed your ankles, as you earnt a sigh from your well aged friend; he clearly was not impressed by your behaviour. But you didn't know what he had expected from you, you had been trapped here for longer than you could remember, and alone until you had discovered the man that had been outcast by his own family. At the time you had not known of his murderous tendencies, and had wanted nothing more than to get away from him, and you wouldn't like to admit it but you even missed him a little.

He was annoying and cocky, and withheld crucial information from you, though there was something that contradicted that all. Whenever any one of your friends had suffered the fate of death, they were always attempted to be brought back to life against the natural order of things. It made you wonder and doubt a little if they had even tried to resurrect you. In this separated reality, there was no jurisdiction so that you could know, though each time that either Damon or Bonnie looked at you, you could swear that there was guilt written in their gazes.

"Look I knew being stuck here with Kai must have fucked you up-" he should have bit his lip, his assumptions were anything but correct. And that was proven as you defensively darted out of your seat and jabbed your finger in his face, making him pivot his jaw back. There were many things that were 'fucked up', and supposing that you were one of them because you had died after sacrificing yourself to ensure that they all continued to live just didn't settle right with you. The context of the morbid situation did not help with condoning any reassurance at all, in fact, it gave a spine to your lack of faith in him and the others in the first place. Out of everyone, it was inherently worse to be here with Damon, all he had cared about was his precious Elena as well as himself, and after existing for well over a century, that was insurance that he was never going to change.

"It wasn't him who did that to me, it was roaming this damned place by myself, I had no one. And as crazy as it sounds, I think spending time with the notorious Malakai Parker helped me keep what was to spare of my sanity. If I'm not wrong, I may even say that I've found more being here than dealing with the bullshit y'all cause back home." Perhaps your words were a tad harsh, if Bonnie were in the room you were sure that she'd have a somewhat understanding of what you were saying. Though she was not, and thus you had to deal with the harshness of her best friend all by your lonesome. And it seemed that you had rattled him, apparently he couldn't handle the truth.

"Then why don't you run back to the sociopath? When we discovered that you were here, we found the pair of you attached to the hip anyways. And with him inside of you, I'd never seen you so darn happy, better here with him than tempting me to drink bleach from the way that you constantly complained when you were alive; I swear you were worse than Donovan." It was on your mind's own command for you to take a step back, and away from the toxin that Damon had so cruelly spat at you. Ans the way that he compared you to Matt made you angry; it was though he were ignoring that there were valid reasons for the blond to be the way that he was - after all, the monster before you had practically killed his sister. A laugh renegaded out from your mouth as you realised that you had been right all along, none of them cared. You were just a burden that stopped them from having a perfect life together. If this were a book, then this would be the beginning to your villain arc, and ironically enough Damon saw himself as one of the good guys. Now that was utterly ridiculous after every reckless thing that he had ever done!

"Have it your way then bloodsucker." All along, you should have trusted your guy, and from now on you knew that you would listen to it. And strangely enough, it was calling you to Kai, maybe it was because he was your last resort to escaping this imprisonment that had been meant for him alone. Turning on your heel, you heard Damon flop the towel down on the side and sigh, though you continued to walk, appeasing your better judgement elsewhere. "Wait." He tried to convince you to stay, belatedly understanding the mistake that he had made, but it was no use, you were already on your journey of getting as far away as possible from him.

The Mystic Grill, it remained to be familiar in your eyes as you entered. It was empty and void of drunken assholes and narcissists that you had wasted too much time on. The only person that you missed in the modern alternative was Matt Donovan, he was the only person that didn't treat you as though you were invisible or a nuisance. You wondered how he was coping with your absence, knowing him, he was probably relieved that Damon was gone. But you weren't, because he was here with you instead. Trailing your fingertips over the counter of the bar, out of the corner of your eye you saw a lonely glass of bourbon that was sat there as though it were lamenting you with mockery. You tried to hold your sentimental sob inside, but it was practically impossible. It tore through your body, bellowing out from your mouth as you stifled and fought through your tears.

A hand caressed the landscape of your back causing you to jump and flinch from the unexpected contact. One thing that you had learnt from evading and eventually experiencing the qualms of death, was that you could never be too careful. For no more than a second you had predicted that the intruder to your pity party was Damon, that he had followed you as you tried to distance yourself from him, but alas it was not, instead of being greeted by a fretless vampire, you were condemned by the sight of a powerless witch, of whom had purposely interjected your moment of cracked emotion and wore a brave smile for you. Wiping your eyes with the back of your sleeves, you couldn't help but snap at him. "If you're here to finish what we started then tough luck Parker, you've been here long enough and you have two hands, figure something else out."

His tongue darted out to swipe at his own bottom lip, as he raised his hand, showcasing his offering to you. "I was only going to see if you wanted a pork rind, you look like you could use one." Sighing, you dug your hand into the pungent packet that was littered with dust and crumbs, retrieving a few treats for yourself as you placed them in your mouth. "And now should be when the poison kicks in..." With your hand, you gave him a little shove as you tolled your eyes at his homicidal comedy. "Come on, that was funny! I'm funny!"

"If you say so, there's not very many people around to give you an honest opinion." It was true, the only other human like lifeforms impartially close by were Damon and Bonnie, and well, you weren't going to scurry back to them anytime soon. "And if you had poisoned me, then you would know that I would be fine and dandy in not so long, It wouldn't make a difference if that wasn't the case either, I mean I'm already dead, what could be worse than that?" Kai looked at you with shock; he didn't know that about you, that you had actually suffered a final breath. Now he thought about it, the grand scheme of things he didn't know much about you in general, though he was prepared to learn. He had often found death to be fulfilling, satisfying even, but he'd never thought about its victims being so beautiful. Yet here you were before him, by chance the one force that could motivate and help him find a way out of this jarring hole of reaping misery.

"You're here, that's all that matters." As soon as those words fled from his lips he realised exactly what he had said, and a blush framed his features. "I um - that wasn't what I - you know, yeah..." He scratched the back of his neck as you shook your head at this new side that you were seeing of Malakai. His parents called him Malakai, of course he was going to become a killer, but right now you saw nothing more than an embarrassed boy whose skin had flushed as an affect of his own words. From your experience, everyone was either the killer or the killed - you two were one of each. Like ying and yang, you fit perfectly, it was a balanced divide that was settled on whichever rhythm played out in the air. And to correspond with that thought you walked over to the jukebox, a song beginning to play which made Kai want to cover his ears. "I hate this song." He told you; he really did, if he could murder it, he would without a doubt.

"Then don't listen, just dance with me." You extended your hands out to him, to which he begrudgingly reached for. And as he snapped his eyes open, he realised that was all a memory, and that goddamn song was still playing. All he could think about was you, he had seen how upset you had been to die, and yet you were gone again, and it was all down to your so called friends. One was standing before him as he sat in chains, imprisoned against a chair. "Are you here to punish me?" He asked Bonnie, wanting nothing more than shut his eyes and see your face again.

[orionwhispers]

Bravado // Tommy Shelby Imagine

(A/N - its been a long ass time and i wanted to ease myself back into writing but this ended up being long and also super super angsty. sorry that this illness imagine came during covid idk whats going on with my imagination lol. love you guys SO much thank you for always being there. reblogs, comments and likes mean everything to me.)

trigger warnings - LOTS of angst. fluff. implied smut. my hc that tommy has a fear of illness, bad descriptions of hospitals. 

He knew something wasn’t right the minute his car pulled into the driveway and you weren’t waiting for him under the great concrete arch, with that smile on your face that made his knees buckle and heart race like he was a love struck teenager.

You were always there as soon as he came home. Barefoot in a broderie dress in the summer with tousled hair and baby pink toenails. Wrapped in a hand knit blanket with fire flushed cheeks and woollen socks in the winter - even running across the gravel and into his arms in the middle of a storm, the ice cold rain whipping across both of your faces as you kissed under the light of the moon.

No matter how shit his day or week or month was, no matter what stained his hands or darkened his heart, no matter what lay heavy and hard deep in his gut, seeing you made everything vanish in the night air like wisps of smoke. You made everything worth it.

He refused to give into fear, he wasn’t that kind of man, so he swallowed all of the nagging thoughts and apprehensions as he came up to the dark foggy windows and the iron cast door. It felt strange turning his key in the lock without the weight of you in his arms or the sticky peach kisses you left down his jaw and neck, the smell of the vanilla in your hair and lavender on your skin.

The second thing that sent a jolt of white hot electricity down his spine was Mary, watching him anxiously and wringing her hands in the hallway. Usually, she was calm and collected, taking his jacket and leather travel bag with her signature placid smile and gentle fingers. Usually she would return to the kitchen and finish up whatever she was making - a hearty roast lamb with rosemary and garlic and glazed potatoes or a pheasant pie with honeyed carrots, always followed by a three layer chocolate ganache cake that was so thick and rich you practically had to saw through the sponge. She would always have dinner piping hot and dripping with gravy by the time the two of you returned downstairs, no matter how many hours it took for you to get... reacquainted.

Now she looked sheepish and pale, her skin almost translucent under the syrupy yellow lights. There was something about the way she stood, as still as a wraith, that made his blood run cold.

“Mary. Where is she?”

“Mr Shelby, I - ” Her voice was strained and hesitant, like a slowly fraying rope.

“Where is my wife?”

She moved forward, creases forming around her eyes. “We tried ringing you in Liverpool but the hotel said that you had already left, so we...”

“You rang me? Why? What’s happened?” He couldn’t hold back the desperation in his voice, and it lingered and festered around them both like a poisonous gas.

“Mrs Shelby came down with something a few days ago, we thought that it was just a common cold but unfortunately she seems to be getting worse.”

He tore upstairs before he could even think, his shoes leaving perfect muddy footprints on the cream carpet. He almost slipped at the top, and he lurched forward, his hands reaching out and holding onto the portrait hanging above the stairs for stability.

It was the oil of the two of you. A soft, personal picture that revealed more than he ever possibly could. The love in your gazes, the hint of a soft, drunk smile on the dangerous gangsters face as you leaned into him, melting into him like butter, him holding onto you as though he couldn’t bear to let you go. It was his favourite photo, one that always washed a sense of calmness over him, a reminder of the woman that he loved and the way he felt around you. But now he felt as if was riding out a terrible storm.

He lived his life with no fear, he was capable and practical and used to the sound of bullets and the copper sweet smell of blood. There was really only one thing, one terrible thing that he couldn’t control, and that was what drove him crazy.

Sickness.

It gnawed at his insides like a rabid dog, clawed under his skin and settled behind his ribs. Losing someone he loved was like ripping out a piece of his heart straight from his chest, and he knew better than anyone what it was like to lose somebody to a violent, quick death - the pull of a trigger or the smack of a fist. At least in those moments he could lock them away in his mind, he could leap in front of a bullet or crack the neck of any man who dared to get too close to you, but there was almost nothing he could do to stop sickness, and the devastation it caused.

When you first met him it had been a surprise, almost amusing, that this powerful God of a man had these small little quirks. His house was always sparkling clean and smelling of Lysol, his fruit bowls were filled with citrus fruits and round, plump blueberries. He always made sure you were wrapped up warm in the winter, always placing his coat around your shoulders and bringing an extra pair of gloves in case you forgot yours. It was adorable, the way he took care of you,

It wasn’t till a little bit later when you learnt of those he had lost. His mother and his childhood sweetheart taken away from him much too soon. It broke your heart when he told you late one night of the sallow tint of their skin and the way he could almost see them vanishing from earth, the way that illness had moulded and changed those he loved the most.

You understood.

Your best friends older sister had died of tuberculosis when you were young. The elderly woman across the street from your first flat had passed away from a bout of horrendous smallpox. Your brother lost his first child to pneumonia. Times were changing but the fear of disease was ever present. Medicine was improving and so was knowledge, but still there remained a huge, dark cloud of what could happen, one that always hung around your husbands head.

——————————————-

All Tommy could think was the worst as he ran through the landing. His heart was in his ears and his bones felt loose, like the sweet liquorice the two of you would share at the pictures. He came to a stop by the bedroom door, tentatively pressing his palm onto the wood and ever so slightly pushing it open, listening to the gentle creak it made.

The room was warm. The lace curtains were pulled shut, and your favourite lavender candles were flickering on your vanity, casting syrupy shadows against the wall. He exhaled loudly as he saw you, bundled up under a mountain of satin sheets and hand crocheted blankets, your hair splayed across the pillows.

He moved to your bedside, pretending not to notice the large, untouched jug of water and the tissue box next to you, hoping and silently praying that you weren’t sick - just asleep and waiting for him, ready to wrap your arms around his neck.

You were silent, your lips parting every so often as you breathed, your chest rising and falling. He reached out gently, as though he was picking up shards of glass, and brushed his fingers against your cheek. Your forehead was beading with sweat, your cheeks flushed, and yet your skin was ice cold to the touch. He recoiled quickly, his heart dropping like a weight into his gut, and he inhaled a shaky, deep breath.

He saw something curled up beside your hands, a fluffy white cloud with sparkling emerald green eyes trained on him. Despite everything, he smiled. He thought of your birthday - of strawberry cheesecake and champagne, and surprising you with a ribbon wrapped little kitten as you woke up. He thought of that day often. How you smiled and leapt onto him with tears in your eyes, his whole world blissfully quiet as he spent the day in bed with you and your new best friend.

He would have preferred a big dog, one with sharp teeth and a menacing gaze to ward of visitors whilst he was away. But you were drawn to the tiny, malnourished runt of the litter who was scared of his own shadow. A kitten no bigger than the size of his clenched fist. A little white hairball who only ate and drank from fine pink saucers. A cat that had a very frustrating habit of crawling in the bedroom right as Tommy’s hand was up your skirt and his lips on the sweet spot of your neck, the tiny thing mewling and crying until you picked him up and nuzzled him into your chest.

He was a horse lover through and through, and never saw himself having time for any other pets. But in the summer when you saw the litter from one of John’s barn cats and fell in love with the sweet baby who mewled and cried and crawled right into your lap - he knew that he would give you anything and everything you wanted.

Including a cat who refused to accept that Tommy was the man of the house.

“Hello, boy.” He said, leaning over to scratch Comet under the chin, using a voice he only reserved for the two of you. “Have you been looking after my girl whilst I’ve been gone?”The cat meowed loudly in reply, pressing his head into Tommy’s palm but not moving from his spot beside you.

Tommy suddenly felt you shift under him and his heart lurched into his throat. He turned to face you, cupping the side of your clammy face as your eyelids fluttered open, blinking under the candlelight. A rush of red hot heat built up in his belly as you registered him, that angelic smile growing on your face, your tired eyes glimmering with recognition of the man you loved.

“Tommy?”

“Hi, Princess.”

You smiled sadly. “You’ve been gone for weeks - I missed you.”

He felt his brows crease as he rubbed along your jawline softly, trying to stop you from falling back asleep. He felt panic in his throat as sour as vomit, and he tried to bite back the nagging feeling that something was very wrong.

“No, sweetheart, I’m early. It’s only Thursday. I left on Monday.”

“Oh.” You said softly, your voice as gentle as the breeze rustling through the trees outside. “Well let me welcome you back properly - let me make you a lemon drizzle or a...” You lifted your head from the pillow and shuffled under your blanket, but he pressed his hands against your shoulder and held you down.

“No. You’re staying right here.”

“But - ”

“No.”

“Hmm. Don’t leave me, Tommy.”

“Never.” He said, his tone firm and cast like stone. He stroked your hair softly as your breathing slowed, but it didn’t nothing to quell the hard thump of his heart in his chest.

——————————-

Tommy left the room as quietly as he could after you had fallen asleep in his arms. He hadn’t wanted to move, not when you were pressed against his chest, looking ethereal but vacant, sweat beading under your brow and your face lacking colour. He wanted to stay with you, curled up by his side, his fingers laced through yours, the sound of your heart thumping in his ears.

But he was a man of action, and seeing you there - your lips cracked and dry, shudders passing through your body and goosebumps raised over your skin - he couldn’t fight the fiery urge to do everything in his power to make you feel alright again.

He found Mary waiting outside the door, chewing on the skin of her lips and swaying on the balls of her feet in anticipation. He grabbed her by the arm, harder than he meant to and something he would apologise for later, and pulled her downstairs, determined to let you rest whilst he got some answers. As soon as they reached the drawing room he spun her around, clenching his jaw and pointing a finger at the anxious maid.

“Where the fuck is the doctor? Why isn’t he here?”

“Mr Shelby.” She said, stepping forward calmly. “We phoned Doctor Moore and he came on Tuesday to see her.”

“Tuesday?” He seethed. “My wife has been ill since Tuesday and no one called me?”

Mary raised her hands in defeat, making it clear that the decision wasn’t hers to make. “He said it was nothing of concern . He gave her some antibiotics and told her to rest. She asked us herself not to call you, she knows how you.. worry.”

He ignored her sugar coated attempt to quell his anger, but if anything it made his vision darken. “When it’s my wife, It is always my concern.”

“Mr Shelby, we were just doing what we were told. As soon as we noticed she wasn’t getting better we phoned the surgery again, but Doctor Thomas was out for the day and said he didn’t think it was necessary to come round again, so we -”

“I don’t give a fuck. My wife is the number one priority. Ring every doctor in England if you have to, get somebody out here now to see my wife.”

He stormed away, anger pulsating through his veins, but he stopped suddenly, and threw out over his shoulder:

“And call Doctor Moore’s ’office. Tell him to expect a visit from the blinders soon.”

———————————————————

Once, when you were first dating, you found Tommy at the door to your flat at midnight, with scraped knuckles and blood dripping from his nose. You let him in, cleaned him up and sat with him in the bath until his skin was clear and his breathing was even. He knew that night, as you were pressed against his chest and his lips were pressed to your scalp that he was truly, madly and completely in love with you.

He remembered waking up the next morning, love drunk and blissful, and finding the bed beside him empty. He found you in the kitchen, wincing slightly and pressing a hot water bottle to your belly as you buttered a few pieces of toast. He rushed to your side with eyes as wide as saucers, concern lacing the features that were usually ice cold and hard as stone. You were completely baffled as he held you at arms length, his bright cerulean eyes trailing up and down your body for any signs of injury he might have missed. You were bewildered at the sight of the powerful man practically on his knees as he made sure you were alright, and you bit back a giggle as his warm palms spread over your abdomen.

“What is it? Whats wrong?”

“Tommy. Sweetheart.” You said softly, bringing his gaze level to yours. “It’s just - you know - that time of the month.”

He brushed off your embarrassment and ran his fingers through your hair, pressing a uncharacteristically gentle kiss to your forehead, sending a swarm of butterflies around the pain in your stomach.

“Do you need anything?” He asked, half ready to run down to the corner shop and buy any amount of painkillers or chocolate bars or your favourite lavender tea that you might need; not caring who saw the seemingly terrifying gang leader in the street with an armful of strawberry laces and salt water fudges.

You smiled like the summer sun and he melted, pulling you close as you whispered in the shell of his ear that you only needed him, and that was all you ever needed.

That was the first time you fully saw the extent of Tommy’s fear, but it definitely wasn’t the last. He knew he wanted you forever and always, and it took only six months of neck kisses and pillow talk, red hot jealousy and possessive hands across your skin and dancing in the rain and falling asleep under the pale yellow moon for him to put a ring on your finger. You were both consumed by your love, as though it was the only thing that mattered, it was insatiable and powerful - the wonderful mix of the devil and his sweet little angel.

And with that, came the good and the bad.

Like when you got food poisoning after Arthur cooked you a Sunday lunch to cheer you up whilst Tommy was gone. He came home to you retching over the toilet bowl with Mary holding back your hair, and swore that he would kill his brother with his own hands. Or when you slipped on ice and broke your arm while out with friends in London, and Tommy went ballistic and tried to ban you from ever leaving the house. It was just in his nature, how he always made sure you walked on the side furthest from the road, kept an arm slung around you whenever you were together, kept his eyes alert and vigilant no matter where you were - always looking out for his girl.

But he had never been like this.

———————————————————-

You were falling in and out of sleep. Waking up drowsy and heavy headed, squinting under bright lights, an ache in your skull and a burning in your throat. Every so often you felt a pinch in your upper arm, a squeeze on your palm, a kiss on your forehead - but you always drifted back into unconsciousness.

You weren’t sure how much time had passed when you woke up. The room was dark and you could hear the wind howling and whipping rain across the windows. You felt all too hot and all too cold at the same time, and the bed was damp with sweat. You struggled and tried to sit up, your head swaying and feeling as heavy as one of Tommy’s marble statues; as if you had been carved up and moulded. You could hear voices out in the hall, and unsteadily got to your feet, moving towards the noises.

“Pneumonia?” You heard through the thick wooden door, instantly recognising your husbands voice. “That’s impossible.”

“Sir...”

“Fucking. Impossible.” You knew his teeth were clenched.

The other man cleared his throat.“I know that it’s hard to hear, Mr Shelby, but your wife is very sick.”

“Just...” You felt your heart flutter and clench in your chest as the sound of his broken words, could practically feel his desperation and you wanted nothing more than to hold him. “Just tell me how to make her better.”

The second man spoke again, his voice softening and lowering, something you knew Tommy would hate. “Mr Shelby, the first round of antibiotics didn’t work and that means that it’s time for something stronger. Usually I would suggest the Birmingham hospital but I don’t think it’s equipped for...” He paused, trying to think over his words carefully. He wanted to convey the severity of the situation but also didn’t want to risk getting a bullet in his head from your very protective husband. “...This kind of reaction. I recommend we send her down to London for extra testing.”

“London? That’ll take two fucking hours. How the fuck can you recommend letting my wife travel that far? Are you out of your fucking mind?”

“I’m my opinion this is the wisest choice to make, but unfortunately that could mean your wife might get worse before she gets better.”

“Worse than she already is? That’s not an option.”

The man you assumed was the doctor was insistent, trying his best to portray the severity of the situation but failing as your hardheaded husband had already come to a decision.

“I’ll look after her here. She’s safest with me.”

Once Tommy had spoken that was the final result, and the doctor slinked away into the darkness and shook his head. You remained peering from behind the door, your tongue between your teeth and your heart hammering.

Tommy took one look at you and frowned, scooping you in his arms like a baby despite your protests. He ignored you, acting playfully and cheerful but you could feel his heated skin and the see flare of his nostrils. You wanted to help him but didn’t know how, and let him tuck you under the covers once again. He kissed your crown and stroked your hair and you wanted to speak but no words would leave your mouth.

“You stay there this time. You know I have no problem with tying you to the bed.”

You rolled your eyes as he left, and his clenched fists and tightened shoulders told you all you needed to know.

————————————————-

Comet watched from his spot beside you as Tommy wrestled with the fire. He had noticed you shivering despite your high temperature, and bundled you up in blankets whilst sparking matches beside the fireplace. There were raindrops across his shoulders, evidence that he had been outside and to the log store right at the end of the property - a job that had always been for the Groundskeeper. Your precious cat nudged the tips of your fingers as you sighed and watched your husband throw kindling onto the coal, a deep unease settling over your gut.

“Tommy, my love, I’m fine.” It wasn’t exactly true but you felt he needed to hear it. But you could practically see your words wash over him and evaporate like ocean spray.

He was shaking a metal tin in his palm as he worked, and you groaned and let your head hit the pillow as he pulled out two round chalky tablets. You winced as he placed them beside your glass, your mouth already tasting like the sour talc medicine you had come to loathe. He raised his eyebrows and shot you a look that told you he wasn’t far off plugging your nose with his fingers to force you to swallow, and you childishly stuck up two fingers as you took them.

Your stomach rumbled with nausea and you bit back the bile in your throat as you settled into the pillows. You watched your husband as he pulled off his crisp white shirt, revealing his taut tan stomach and the deep ink tattoos that you loved to trace with your fingertips and your lips. There was something about him standing there, with those damn cerulean eyes and hidden muscles, that boyish hair and slender fingers that you wanted desperately around your throat, that made a million tiny fireworks spark inside of you.

But instead you pushed him away from you despite your body wanting nothing but him wrapped all around you. “Don’t get too close. I might have something contagious. I can’t have you getting sick.”

He ignored you, smiling inwardly at the way you always put others before yourself. It was one of the million reasons he had fallen for you. You were sweating out a high fever and shivering in pain, and yet you always thought of him first. He pressed his lips to your temple and pulled you closer, knowing that skin to skin was a way to bring down a fever - even if it meant he had to restrain himself from tugging off your pretty little white nightgown and whatever frilly things you had on underneath.

“I’m not going anywhere. Fuck it if I catch anything.”

“That’s easy for you to say. I’m the one who will have to dote on you hand and foot, you big baby.” You teased, pressing yourself into him playfully, finally giving in.

He held you like a child, trying to hard to soften despite the way you felt underneath him. Everything on him was running a mile a minute, and he couldn’t help but want to try everything and everything to make you feel better. His hand was pressed against your temple to always try and measure your fever, his other palm across your chest to try and count your heart rate.

He could hear Mary treading across the landing carpet but he ignored his anxious maid, instead letting himself be completely consumed by the only thing that mattered - you.

This was something he had to do by himself. He was the only one who could care for you he reminded himself. And he let the words tumble over and over in his skull until they were all he could hear.

—————————————————————-

You had been asleep for a long time.

Every hour, after pacing the length of the hall and sanitising his hands and wiping the beads of sweat above your brow and above your breasts he woke you up and held a cool glass to your lips. You mumbled and moaned and pushed him away but he kept his fingers across your wrist - harsher than he ever had before - and kept you as close to him as possible.

He couldn’t remember the last time he had cooked. Perhaps it was last valentines when the two of you had camped out under the stars, drinking icy white wine and sharing stolen, day drunk kisses. That night he had roasted a chicken over the fire and it had burnt to a crisp as the two of you rolled around the grass, his head buried in your neck as you giggled at the poultry going up in flames.

He was trying now though, easy, plain substantial meals that wouldn’t upset your stomach. Boiled egg and dippy soldiers. Crackers with smooth cheese. Bubbly water and ginger biscuits. Each time he went upstairs you pushed him away, your whole body shuddering and almost retching, and he felt like smashing the plates against the wall at his defeat.

It had been almost thirty six hours since he had come home and it had been almost as long since you had eaten something, and his heart thundered and shattered in his chest when he found you gasping and wheezing over the toilet bowl when you had taken a bite of toast to calm him. He rarely left you alone, only for a few minutes to put the still full dishes in the sink, to ring Lizzie and tell her that he wouldn’t be coming for reasons that he refused to disclose, to smoke a cigarette under the grey stone archway, his shaking hands and bitten fingernails barely visible through the sleepy rolling fog.

He had grabbed handfuls of papers and the brass ink pen you had got him for your anniversary and broke his own rule - bringing work into your bedroom. It had always been a sacred space. For candlelight and soft laughter, aching hands and heart shaped bruises, a sanctuary for him to breathe and to love and to be loved fully in return. But he was afraid if he didn’t have a distraction, he might just completely lose it, and he had to be there for you.

So he sat squinting in his glasses, the room almost completely dark save for a few candles because of the migraines that had started to spread throughout your skull, and let himself be drawn into the mess of squiggly lines and numbers that suddenly didn’t add up, with you still centre stage in his peripheral.

After about forty minutes of rereading the same sentence a dozen times to try and make some sense of it, he heard your voice, like a small crack spreading across a sheet of ice, coming from the bed.

“Tom?” You sounded so weak, he practically flipped your cream vanity as he got to his feet and darted towards you. “I don’t feel well.”

He lifted you as you reached your arms up at him like a child. He almost gasped at the sweat pouring from your body but didn’t want to scare you, and instead held your shaking, shivering body against his own. How could you be so hot, yet so cold at the same time? Your skin was prickled with goosebumps yet you were burning with a fever, and for the first time in a long time, he had no fucking idea what to do.

He left you propped up against the headboard and he entered the bathroom. He ran over to the claw foot tub you loved, twisting the faucet and trying to find the perfect medium between boiling hot and freezing cold. He didn’t want to overwhelm you, just try and soothe your raging fever, and he ignored the shelves of expensive bath oils and scented soaps that you coveted, instead opting for a handful of something meant to ease tension - praying to whoever was listening that it would help you somehow.

There was a brutal, awful moment as he lifted you from the bed, limp as a rag doll, where he imagined what would happen if your heart were to stop. He couldn’t comprehend what it would be like to miss the weight of you in his arms, the smell of your skin, the feeling of your lips against him, the shovels stopping and fading into nothing. It hit him square in the chest, as merciless as a bullet, and he had to lean against the doorframe to stop the two of you from plummeting to the ground.

He undressed himself first. Tugging his white shirt off, sliding off his slacks and his underwear, keeping you as close to his chest as he could. Then he pulled your nightgown up and over your head. He gathered your hair and secured it up with a claw clip so that it was away from your face, the heat radiating off your neck as fierce as the fire now burnt down to ash in the bedroom.

He lowered the two of you into the bath, sinking down beneath the eucalyptus smelling lukewarm water, letting it wash over you both. Your teeth were chattering and you were barely awake. He gathered handfuls of water, letting it drip over your shoulders and pulse points, grabbing a washcloth and running it over your raised skin, hating how you barely registered his touch. As he scrubbed over your collarbones and up to your face he saw your lips had turned to an awful, silvery blue, as vibrant as a fresh bruise. He hissed and tugged on the plug, now determined to get you wrapped up in a fresh towel and tucked back into bed.

You were soft and placid and he helped you out, lacking the usual fire that he adored. Your eyes were glassy and missing their vibrance, like the vanishing spark of a lighter - and he felt miles and miles of invisible distance between the two of you. You were unsteady on your feet and he used his body to prop you up as he warmed your arms with a fluffy white towel. You suddenly stopped, lifting your hand to your mouth as you started to cough - a horrible, dry, gasping cough.

He noticed it almost immediately. His eyes darting to the splatter of red against the white, a smudge of crimson that was as loud and commanding as a siren, a warning signal that something was definitely not right. A bead of scarlet that would linger long behind his closed eyelids.

He managed to get you back into bed, remaining calm as he stroked your hair and kissed your temple. He tucked you under the duvet and waited for your breathing to even before he ran downstairs, his heart thumping in his ears as he practically ripped the phone off of the wall.

“Pol? Fuck. I think - I think I need help.”

—————————————————————-

The room smelt like bleach and metal. Unfamiliar and clinical. There was something hard on your chest and covering your mouth, it tasted like wet pennies and was as heavy as a hand over your throat, but for the first time in days you could finally breathe. You tried to sit up, but there was a needle in your chest, a gown you didn’t recognise cut straight down the middle to accommodate it. You struggled and lifted the thin bedsheet above your shivering torso, trying to look around the cold room.

“Careful!”

It was Polly, dressed immaculately despite her surroundings. She reached out and placed a manicured hand across yours, and you smiled at the woman who had always been a calming influence when you had joined the circus of a family. There was concern in her eyes, rimmed with black eyeliner and lifted lashes but still swimming deep around her pupils. That made you frown, and you moved as much as you could to face her.

“What happened?”

She ran her tongue over her teeth, choosing her words. “You gave us quite a fright, love.”

“I did?” Your memories of the past few days were much like a fever dream, blurry and distorted snapshots were all you could really remember.

“Your pneumonia got worse. A lot worse.” She paused, looking over to the door and you followed her gaze. “They found fluid in your lungs.”

“So...” You started, gesturing to the needle in your abdomen and the breathing apparatus around your head.

She nodded. “Yes. You were in surgery. It was touch and go for a little bit.”

“Really?” You were bewildered. You couldn’t remember anything, let alone having major surgery. You looked her straight in the eye, asking her the questions that had been on the tip of your tongue since you had woken up. “Where is he? Where’s Tommy?”

“He’s outside.” She clicked her tongue, reaching deep into her purse and pulling out some hand cream, gently rubbing your dry hands like she was your mother. You leant into her touch despite all of your questions.

“What? Why?”

“I think he blames himself. God knows what goes on in that mans head. All I really know is he was bloody terrified.” She paused, looking over in the distance. “I’ve never seen him so scared, not even on his wedding day.” She smiled sadly, trying to lighten the mood, but it soon faded. “He didn’t leave your side the whole time you were asleep.”

Your heart thumped in your chest, a soft aching that you knew all too well. “I want to see him.”

“I know you do. But right now...” She stopped right as a handful of nurses entered, clad in long blue dresses with white aprons, hair tied back and smelling of strong soap and disinfectant. You lost Polly in the bustle as one spoke softly to you before tugging on the needle right beside your ribs, your eyes just catching hers as she left, a promise to see you soon on her lips.

It wasn’t her you saw next, but Tommy.

The nurses had cleaned you up with wet flannels and bowls of warm soapy water. Your hair had been braided and your face washed, and walked you arm in arm over to the bathroom so you could relieve yourself. A skittish doctor followed after, his eyes darting across you and his touch gentle as he changed your dressings and took your blood - obviously under strict instructions from your husband, and despite everything, you smiled.

You were sat listening to the clock tick. A romance novel you had been given was dangling dangerously close to the end of the bed, but you were too tired to focus on it. You heard the door squeal softly, and the sound of familiar footsteps across the tiling, each small thud sending shockwaves across your spine.

“Tommy.”

He looked tired. Exhausted rather, as though he had been awake all the hours that you had been asleep. His eyes were bloodshot and his skin was sallow and bruised. His clean shaven face was dark with stubble and his hair was ruffled and unwashed. You longed to reach out to him and cradle him against you, but he stood in the doorway, lingering like a ghost.

“Tommy?” You repeated, your voice almost a whisper, breaking his already shattered heart once again.

“How are you feeling, my love?”

You smiled softly, like spun sugar and sweet honey. No hospital bed or itchy gown could dull your infectious light. “Better now.”

He approached you almost cautiously. He settled down on the hard chair beside your bed and stroked a line down from your temple to your lips, his touch setting you alight like an electrical storm. There was a sadness in his eyes that reminded you of how he got when things were bad, and you willed him to come back to you. His touch was tentative and he inhaled shakily as you cupped his hand with yours, pressing a tender kiss to the inside of his palm.

“Don’t scare me like that. Ever.” He was stern, as though hoping his words would make it true. “I mean it.” He kept his gaze on your pretty face, trying his best not to stare at the harsh bruising on your delicate flesh or the sickly tone of your skin.

“Tommy I’m going to get sick, even you can’t stop that.” You teased gently.

“I can bloody well try.” His hands cradled your face, pulling you into him and kissing you fiercely, still mindful of the wires and tubes taped to your body. There was something about the tenderness and deep longing in the kiss that when mixed with your total exhaustion and love for your husband prompted tears to start falling from your eyes. You sniffled as he pulled away, concern dripping from his beautiful features, his powerful mind wanting to do everything and anything to stop your hurting.

“Hey, hey.” He said, running his calloused fingertips under your eyes and wiping your tears away. You leant into his touch and he kissed your temple, squeezing you even tighter into him. “You know I hate it when you cry.” He toyed with your hair and winked playfully. “Besides, all you need to focus on is getting better. You’re going to have to take care of me when we get home, this week has given me a fucking stroke.”

You rolled your eyes, kissing the inside of his wrist. “You’re a idiot, Thomas Shelby.” You blinked at the clock looming above you both, wanting to stay in your blissful bubble but also knowing that Aunt Pol would probably be in the vicinity harassing a poor nurse over your results. “You should go and find Polly, let her know that everything’s alright.”

He shook his head and nuzzled his nose across yours, an act so innocent that your heart dipped and swooped in your chest. “Later.” He said, breathless and consumed by you. Everything had been too much. Almost losing you had been harrowing, it had punctured him completely and he just needed to feel his girl safe and warm around him. He needed to know that you weren’t found anywhere.

“I just want to stay here for a while. Just me and you.”

You grinned. “Always.”

[thedragonnerd]

Rayaari headcanon - travel through the emotions with tears

(inspired by this lovely anon)

Tears of sorrow and pain

Raya is so young when she loses her mother, that the concept of death is difficult for her to understand. The reality doesn't strike her until bedtime, when she slowly begins to realize that Ma will never again be there to sing her a lullaby, or hug her fear of the monsters away. Benja is unable to stop the tears for hours, as Raya screams and cries and hits her small fists on the bed. Finally, she upsets herself so much she throws up, and her crying trails off to quiet whimpers instead. For months afterwards, Benja and Raya both dread bedtime, for this is when sorrow hits the hardest for her.

Namaari is nine when her Ba dies. Death is not an unknown concept for her, unfortunately. She has already begun to see its cold grasp ensnaring Fang citizens as famine begins to sweep the lands. But nothing can prepare her for the news the young soldier delivers of her Ba's accident, nor the expression on Ma's face when they both realize he won't be coming home. She doesn't cry for the first week after his death, and people whisper about how stoic and brave she's being. In reality, she is too shocked and numb to demonstrate any further emotions, until one night she awakens to find Ma has crawled into bed next to her, hugging her close in her sleep. Hot tears fall down her cheek, and she burrows into her mother's embrace as she cries silently.

After the Druun return, after she loses her Ba, Raya finds herself scared and all alone in the world, besides faithful Tuk Tuk. During the day, she wraps herself in false bravado, learning how to be a confident young woman instead of an easy mark for people with questionable motives. She employs a 'fake it until she makes it' approach to life, and it carries her through well enough...except at night. At night, she can't help but remember both her parents, and in the darkness she softly sings her mother's lullaby to soothe herself as the tears fall.

When the magnitude of what she has done by trying to take the Dragon Gem hits Namaari, she is horrified with herself. She cries quietly at night for weeks on end, reluctant to talk to anyone about her guilt. And then one day, she wakes up and decides she has no right to cry over it – she should step up and be responsible for her own actions instead, and be the best leader she can be. For several years after that moment, she refuses to let herself cry. Then one scouting mission, she loses her first soldier to the Druun, watching him turn to stone over her shoulder as they flee. She manages to hold it together as she tells his family how brave he had been; then, she goes to the kitchen, stealing as much rice wine as she can carry. She hides with her serlots, drunkenly crying into their soft fur until she can barely breathe. After that, she allows herself to cry sometimes, but only ever when alone.

The first time Raya visits Talon, she is fourteen and half-starving. The market place is loud and confusing, but it’s also full of food and wonderful scents. Unfortunately, she has no jade pieces and the soldiers patrolling the stalls do not seem like people with whom she should risk get into trouble. She almost walks away instead of trying to buy anything, but her stomach cramps just at that moment, and she almost gasps in pain. It breaks her heart, but she slowly hands over a ring of gold in order to buy some food – the only thing she has with her that belonged to her mother. ‘You know, that vendor scammed you,’ a young boy tells her with a snort, as she walks away. ‘You should have gotten far more product for the worth of the ring.’ The food tastes like ashes in her mouth after that, and hot tears slip down her cheeks as she tries to choke down the rest of her dinner.

Namaari’s scouting party is ambushed, not by the Druun, but by angry citizens from Spine. She loses good people that day, watching in horror as they are overwhelmed by Spine’s army, still acting as good soldiers trying to protect their Princess until the end. The last warrior screams at her to run, and even though it is against her instincts, she turns and flees into the forest, not even stopping when a sharp pain pierces her side - an arrow hitting its mark. She collapses some distance later, crying in pain and fear. For the first time, she fears she will die alone, bleeding out amongst the trees. Then she remembers her mother, remembers her duties and the promises she made to herself, and staggers upright. Her serlot finds her as she slowly makes her way forwards, and when she finally manges to crawl onto her back, they take off towards Fang.

‘You’re a traitor to your people,’ someone snaps at Raya, as she tries to mediate between two disagreeing Heart citizens. ‘You try to tell us what to do, but you’re a Princess who doesn’t even know half of her own culture. Too busy cavorting with binturis from Fang and other lands to bother with your own.’ She can feel the tears coming on as the words cut deep into all the fears she has about herself – how she isn’t a good leader, how she lost so many years where she should have learnt about Heart and her role as Princess. A hand lands on her shoulder squeezing gently, yet the voice behind its owner is cutting. ‘Gentlemen, I suggest you leave now before you make me do something I regret,’ Namaari says, and when the men depart angrily, silence falls. Namaari doesn’t say anything at first, drawing Raya into an embrace instead. ‘You’re a better leader than they could hope to be,’ she whispers into Raya’s hair, kissing her head gently. Raya clings to her tightly, arms wrapped around her waist.

‘You’re not welcome here, binturi,’ comes the accusation thrown into her face, and Namaari flinches, much to her own disgust. The celebratory gathering is supposed to be for all the lands to come together, but she can understand Fang not being so warmly welcomed. She is trying though, trying to atone for her mistakes, and after a long day of talking herself into having the confidence to attend, she is now just feeling overwhelmed with their cutting remarks. She simply nods and tries to walk away while hiding her face, but Raya is already pushing past her, getting into the personal space of the other women with a snarl. ‘She’s more welcome here than you currently,’ she growls. Then she spins around, holds out an arm gallantly to Namaari with a smile, and says ‘shall we?’ with a wink. Namaari links their arms, and they walk away with their heads held high.

Tears of laughter and joy

There is something charming and fun in watching Sisu learn more about people and their odd behaviours. Namaari is still slightly in awe of dragons in general, but she finds it easier the more she spends time with Sisu and watches her do ridiculous things. Sisu often brings Tong, Boun and even Noi along to visit Raya, and Namaari loves this time especially, because Raya will go and join in on the fun, laughing at her friends’ antics until tears stream down her face. Namaari sits and watches them with a smile, until Raya runs over and grabs her by the hand, dragging her over to the group.

Raya likes to think she is excellently athletic and nimble on her feet, and to a certain extent this is true. Unfortunately, she has a rather clumsy side to her also, and she spectacularly demonstrates this in front of Namaari by mistake. She is trying to demonstrate how smooth her mounts and dismounts from Tuk Tuk’s saddle are, and even goes so far as to try and show off by standing up on his back. And yet, she slips sideways instead, arms windmilling in the air before she drops onto the floor. ‘Are you alright?’ Namaari calls, and as soon as Raya answers in the affirmative, she can hear a cackle of laughter. Namaari is laughing so hard that there are tears shining in her eyes, and Raya can’t feel too embarrassed by her tumble when it brings Namaari such joy.

At the end of a very long day of Council meetings, Raya wants nothing more than to escape the political grandstanding and disappear into the night instead of staying for dinner. She manages to grab some food from the kitchen before it is even brought out for the guests, and then steals Namaari herself as company. They sit under the stars, enjoying their picnic and complaining about the day. Namaari does a wonderful impersonation of the most annoying Councilor in the meeting, and Raya startles into loud laughter at how realistic it is. Soon they are lying next to each other, giggling loudly until they are both crying from laughter.

Namaari kisses Raya for the first time during a sparring session. They are fighting in a casual manner for once, not trying to be highly competitive as usual, but preferring to shoot as many teasing remarks towards the other as punches, enjoying the moment. Raya manages to pin Namaari down on the ground, leaning forwards slightly to highlight her triumphant and teasing expression, and instead sees Namaari staring up at her with a soft smile. Namaari brings both hands up to slide her fingers through Raya’s hair, drawing her down until their lips are touching softly. Raya feels tears welling up behind her eyes at she feels the love emanating from Namaari.

Raya proposes after two years of dating and several days of angsting over whether she has the correct words to say or the correct proposal gifts. But when it comes to the moment, she forgets everything, and just blurts out ‘I love you. Marry me?’ Namaari stares at her in shock for a moment, before stepping forward to kiss Raya. ‘Yes, yes of course,’ she says, her voice shaking from her emotions. Raya cups her cheeks in both hands, gently wiping away her tears before they kiss again.

When they marry, neither of them can get through their vows without some tears of happiness. No-one judges them for it though – most of their family and friends are crying also.

[kuvvydraws]

How would both of the boys feel about a significant other with a terminal illness (say they're only expected to live for another 20 years) and they need lots of care and medical attention?

They’re going to be heavily affected by the news, but the real punch comes depending on their SOs attitude and if they’re bonded.

If their SO has accepted it, as much as that is possible, they’re going to try to do the same and just live life until the end comes, yknow? They’ll accompany them to the hospital visits, sets reminders for medication... They really want to feel useful but also not be smothering, so it’s a tough balance, specially because they can get a bit overbearing at times and their SO would have to remind them to chill.

Under the cut cuz it gets a bit darker in the end, nothing explicit but beware readers, just in case!

Out of the two, Órdago will deal with it better. He’s used to death, to have people he cares about taken away, and he’s painfully aware he can’t fight something like a sickness no matter what. His sadness comes from deep resignation, and if the end it’s already written, he’s going to try to make the most of whatever time his SO has left, and to be worthy of it. In this case, he’s very normal about it, and while angsty moments won’t escape him, he’s learnt to be with them in exchange for being part of his SO’s life.

He might be a mother hen from time to time, so their SO would definitely need to wack him from time to time.

After his SO dies, Órdago will need a lot of time to act like he’s alive himself again, despite going through the motions. “It’s what they would have wanted, at least they’re at peace now“... those words don’t give him any comfort, but he’ll keep going anyway. What else could he do?

Raavi’s case is more extreme. In the beginning, learning about SO’s sickness makes them feel like it’s a personal revenge from fate. Out of all the people, after all this time, why did it have to  be their SO? They’re very good at hiding dark thoughts, but in private, when they’re alone, they rear their ugly heads, their voices loud and suffocating. Even if SO seems okay considering their condition, Raavi gets some intrusive thoughts about how their time together is running out, specially during doc visits, when reality hits them hard in the face, and SO will be able to see some cracks in their cheery mask.

On the other hand, as said before, Raavi is very good at keeping unwanted thoughts at bay, specially when they have company, and will be a very supportive partner SO can rely on for anything. They’re all about enjoying life to its fullest, unapologetically too! Will be attentive but not as much as Órdago.

If they’re bonded with their SO, however, Raavi will be very close to dusting after they’re gone. Unlike their brother, they’re going to need nearly constant company during their mourning, because Raavi is very likely to do something stupid in their pain.

[dangerouslyallaboutdraco]

Hey it’s me again I was wondering if maybe you can do a part 2 to my request maybe Harry and reader catching up and explaining where she was and how the Malfoy’s took care of her all those years and like maybe some wedding planning and the actual wedding (maybe Narcissa or Harry kinda want Narcissa Bc she was like the mother she didn’t have those years walk her down the aisle but I bet why it would be Harry also ) and the vows maybe something to do with stars cuz I have this trope where Draco loves looking at the stars and they did that as a couple and maybe their honey moon. This can be just as long if you want I just really enjoyed the first one thank you so much!! 💙✨

The Potter Twins pt 2

A/n: This is going to be long... @loxbbg

Read part 1 here

"I'm going out, Dray." Y/n mentioned as she opened the front door. Draco jumped off the couch and raced over.

"Without a kiss?" He asked, raising his eyebrows. Draco pulled her into his body by the belt loops of her jeans, holding her hips. Y/n leant up, placing her lips on his as she cradled his face.

Draco tried to deepen the kiss, parting his lips slightly.

Y/n pulled back from him. "I can't be late, Draco." She told him firmly, looking into his eyes. They were her favourite colour. If she could, she would gaze at them for the rest of her life. She was going to try.

"Where are you off to?" Draco questioned, realising he had no idea why she would be leaving before lunch.

"Having lunch with Harry," Y/n said, beaming.

It had been a week since the final feast. Y/n quickly filled Draco in on everything that they discussed. Draco was thrilled to know Harry didn't hate him and that the twins were making up. Y/n and Harry had been sending letters back and forth since.

They finally both had a few free hours to meet for lunch. Harry had suggested a muggle cafe near the entrance of Diagon Alley.

Y/n felt nervous as she walked into the cafe. It weakened when Harry got up to embrace her. It immediately made her feel better.

The twins sat down, eventually ordering some food. They could both tell the light-hearted conversation was about to get deep.

Harry asked the first question. "Where were you last year?" He asked.

Y/n signed before answering. "The last time I was at Hogwarts was when you and Draco duelled in the bathroom. Narcissa came. I thought she was there for him. But she said I had to leave with her right then. No one knew I was even leaving aside from Snape." She explained. Harry nodded along with her words, soaking it in. "After that, I went to one of the old Black Family houses. It was in the very South of England, right near a cliff. There were spells placed all over it so no one could find me. Lucius, Narcissa, and Draco were the only ones who knew."

Harry's eyebrows furrowed. "Lucius?" He pushed.

It surprised Y/n how similar they were. It was the same question she'd thought of. "I didn't know until after the battle, but before the Quidditch World Cup, Narcissa had made an unbreakable vow with him that I wouldn't be hurt." She explained.

"Oh," Harry said with a nod.

Y/n could tell he was thinking about how Lucius had been Voldermort's second. "I know. He wasn't a good person." She affirmed. "He did hate me until very recently."

"I'm glad Narcissa did that," Harry told her. "I'm very grateful she declared I was dead, even if it was for Draco's benefit."

Y/n had only just found out about that. "She wanted Draco to be happy."

"So, you're close to her?" Harry shyly asked, not meeting her eyes.

Y/n nodded quickly. "Yeah. I probably owe her my life." She mentioned. Thankfully, they were able to laugh about it. "What happened to you after the duel?" She asked Harry.

He definitely looked like it wasn't something he wanted to talk about. Guilty even. "Snape gave me detention for the rest of the year." Harry guiltily admitted. "I feel terrible about it now. He was standing there defenceless, and I just hit him with the Sectumsempra spell."

"He was crying," Y/n told Harry, making his face drop even more. "He knew what was about to happen."

"I had no idea," Harry admitted, feeling terrible about hurting Draco. "Was he alright?"

Y/n nodded. "Snape gave him the countercurse. I'm not sure what happened once I left him in the hospital wing, but he came to see me on the Ravenclaw vs Gryffindor Quiddich match."

"I can fill in some blanks?" Harry offered. Y/n quickly nodded, prompting him to continue. "Ginny and I got together." He mentioned, a blush forming on his cheeks as well as a smile. Y/n found it adorable how much he obviously loved her. "I served detentions. Then it was the 30th of June."

Y/n knew what part of the story was about to come up. Well, she knew what Draco knew. She anticipated finding out the other side.

Harry continued. "Dumbledore and I went to find the Horcrux. We did, destroyed it, and escaped. When we got back, Dumbledore froze me, but I watched him die." Harry let one tear slip out of his eyes.

"I'm sorry," Y/n told him, placing her hand on top of his. "Draco brought them in through the Vanishing Cabinet. He was tasked, by Voldermort, to kill Dumbledore."

"He didn't." Harry quickly shook his head. "He wasn't that morally corrupted. I've always admired him for not doing it." He confessed. "Snape had to do it, but then he fled."

"Dumbledore tried to protect you." Y/n realised. Harry nodded. "He knew you'd fight Draco."

Harry agreed, crying a few more tears. "Yeah, he knew he had to die. Snape was the half-blood prince. McGonagall became head then." Harry recounted.

"That was it?" Y/n asked.

Unfortunately, Harry shook his head. "No, there was a funeral. But I broke up with Ginny so she'd be protected."

"I'm sorry, H, that can't of been easy." Y/n apologised. Harry nodded sadly, still believing it was the right thing to have done. "Where did you go after that?" She asked, now curious about what Harry had been doing.

"On the run. Moody died over the summer, as well as Hedwig." Y/n felt terrible for him for that.

"Was it on the 27th of July?" Y/n asked him, remembering how weird Edwige acted that day. Harry nodded while looking confused. "Edwige was acting really odd." That made Harry smile at how similar their owls even were. "What else?" She asked.

Harry thought about it for a second, trying to recount the terrible events of the year. "I met Ted and Andromeda Tonks." He remembered. Narcissa's long-lost sister. She had spoken to Y/n about her, tears always in her eyes. There was also a photo of them, Bellatrix, Narcissa, and Andromeda, on the mantlepiece. "Bill and Fleur got married. It was a beautiful wedding." Harry recounted. "But it was attacked by death eaters."

"That was the fall of the Ministry," Y/n added. "Rufus Scrimgeour died because he wouldn't tell them where you were." Harry rose his eyebrows, choking out a sob.

"After the wedding, we went to London. We got attacked by death eaters but wiped their memories." Harry recounted the challenging, scary fight. "We stayed at the Black family house, and I learnt about Regulus?"

Y/n had heard that name before from Narcissa. "Regulus Black? Wasn't he Sirius' younger brother?" She asked, having seen a family tree Narcissa kept.

Harry nodded. "He wasn't a death eater, although he pretended to be until he died." He informed her. "I argued with Lupin." Y/n's eyes widened, knowing how fond he was of Lupin. "He wanted to join the quest, but I really didn't think he should be abandoning their baby."

"Hold on. Baby?" Y/n asked, furrowing her eyebrows.

"Oh, yeah," Harry remembered he had fully explained that part of the story. "Tonks was pregnant. Teddy is the most adorable kid." He told her. Y/n smiled at how wide Harry was smiling. "We infiltrated the ministry to get the Horcrux Umbridge had." He told her. "Then we camped and moved around a lot."

Y/n wondered what it was like. She wondered if it was something Harry enjoyed.

"Ron left after a while. Before Christmas Hermione, and I visited mum and Dad's graves." Harry continued to tell her. "Ron came back, save me, and destroyed another Horcrux." He continued the story. "We went to see Mr. Lovegood, who told the Ministry where we were. But he also told us about the Deathly Hallows."

"What else?" She asked.

"In March, we got captured and taken to the Manor." Harry hesitantly told her, knowing it was going to be a sensitive topic. "Dobby died." He let another few tears slide. "But we escaped with Luna and the other prisoners."

Y/n didn't know what to say. "What was it like? Being trapped there?"

Harry wasn't sure he wanted to answer. "Bad. Bellatrix tortured Hermione." That hurt Y/n's heart. The thought of her long-lost friend being hurt.

"She was crazy," Y/n confirmed. Harry nodded sadly.

"Teddy was born, and then it was the battle," Harry told her the rest of the story. He assumed she already knew or didn't want to know what happened at the battle. And, he didn't want to tell her about the horrible events.

"I'm very proud of you." Y/n made sure to tell him. "I know mum and dad would be too."

"Did he take care of you?" Harry asked.

Y/n assumed he was referring to Draco. "Yes, always." She told him.

"And you love him?" He asked. Y/n didn't even have to think before she nodded. "I'm glad you're okay."

"Me too." She replied. "Ginny's good too?"

Harry unintentionally smiled. "The very best." He checked his watch, glasses tipping off his nose. "I should get going though, I've got to watch Teddy." Y/n only realised then that it was already 2pm.

"Oh, of course," Y/n said, getting up to give him a hug. "I'll see you again soon?" She asked.

Harry nodded. "Yeah, definitely."

Y/n turned back to him before he could leave. "Harry, will you come to the wedding. Ginny too?"

"I'd love to." He told her.

"Good. I'll see you later." Y/n waved goodbye to him before they both walked off in different directions.

Y/n used a portkey to get back to the Black house. She expected to have Draco waiting for her, but he wasn't there.

"Dray? Where are you?" She asked as she closed the front door and looked around. He wasn't in the lounge where he usually was.

"Kitchen." The reply came. She made her way there to see Draco and Narcissa sitting around the crisp white kitchen island. "Leave while you still can," Draco told her, a smirk on his lips.

Narcissa quickly fixed that with a slap on his arm. "Draco Lucius Malfoy, that is not something my future daughter-in-law would do." She told him sternly.

Draco rolled his eyes, landing himself another slap. "Ow, child abuse." He squealed. Y/n giggled at their playful interaction. Narcissa just raised her eyebrows at him.

She turned to Y/n. "Come here, sweetheart." She ushered Y/n over into a hug. Y/n quickly wrapped her arms around Narcissa, savouring the moment.

When they pulled away, Draco was waiting with open arms for his fiancee. Y/n gave him a quick peck on the lips, which he, like always, tried to deepen.

She didn't let him, opting to pull away and look at whatever was on the kitchen island.

"We're wedding planning," Narcissa informed her. Y/n could see that, from the copious amounts of wedding reading material, inspiration photos, and to-do lists. It looked endless but exciting. "Take a seat." She commanded.

Y/n followed the instructions, going to get her own stool. Instead, Draco pulled her in to sit on his lap, resting his head on her shoulder and locking his hands around her waist to keep her steady.

Narcissa raised her eyebrows at her son, fearing Y/n would be a distraction for him. "I'll focus better, promise," Draco assured her, having seen that look before. She nodded slightly before starting through the whole binder.

"The first question is, when do you want to get married?"

The couple looked at each other. It wasn't something they had thought about. "Maybe winter?" Draco suggested.

Y/n nodded in agreement. "We did start dating in September when it started getting colder." She mentioned.

"Alright, so February or January?" Narcissa asked.

Draco nodded on her shoulder. "What about December 10th?" He asked.

Y/n furrowed her eyebrows as she looked at the mop of blonde hair on her shoulders. "Why that date?" She asked.

"We went to Hogsmeade together then," Y/n remembered now. No one knew they were dating apart from Blaise, Pansy, Theo, and Daphne, but they snuck off to kiss in the snow. She remembered how beautiful Draco had looked, freezing fingertips holding her face. She smiled at the memory and nodded.

Narcissa couldn't help but smile at them. They reminded her so much of herself and Lucius. Young and in love. "Alright. We've got about 5 months then." She said, opening the binder.

It was colour-coded with an index. Y/n could tell how excited Narcissa was.

"We're already out from where we need to be, so we've got a lot to get done." Narcissa sternly let them know. "To start with, we need a guest list." She told them, turning to the first page.

"Uh, well, Pans, Blaise, Theo, and Daph." Y/n started as Narcissa wrote.

Draco jumped in. "Those idiots Crabbe and Goyle. Whichever Black family members you want there."

Narcissa sighed. "Probably all of them then." She continued to jot down the rest of the names.

"Marcus Flint," Draco mentioned, thinking back to the old Quidditch captain. "Adrian Pucey too. Actually, just all of the Quidditch team." He told her.

"Harry, Ron, the whole Weasly family." Y/n continued on from Draco's list. "Hermione, Neville, Luna." Narcissa continued to write down the rest of the names they gave her.

They ended up with a list of well over 100.

"What about the Dursleys?" Narcissa questioned. It made Y/n tense.

Draco noticed and rubbed her hand. "Yes." She was hesitant to agree. "I'd like them to be invited, but I doubt any of them will come." At least then, she could say she had tried. "Could we have Andromeda and Ted Tonks too? With Teddy." She asked slowly, not wanting to upset Narcissa.

Narcissa nodded just as slowly. "Yeah, I think that would be a good idea." Y/n loved the idea that the sisters might make up. "Okay, perfect, so now we need a venue. It's going to have to be pretty big with all the people you want to have." Narcissa said, flipping a page.

Y/n looked at Draco and squinted her eyes. Draco tipped his head to show her he was thinking about it. She was so happy they were in it together.

"I'd love a castle." Draco declared.

Y/n could see it in her mind. A grand castle, fallen snow, fairy light. Grand and very Malfoy-like.

She nodded. "Yes, please." She looked back to Narcissa with a smile.

"Okay, I think I can make that happen. Are you thinking of a winter wonderland theme?" She asked.

Y/n shook her head. "Could we do a royalty theme?" She asked.

"Yes!" Draco cheered. Y/n could feel the excitement radiating off him.

"What does that look like?" Narcissa asked, still writing down ideas of what they wanted.

"Gold." Draco decided, making both the women giggle. "I mean golden chairs, chandeliers, white roses." He was definitely used to a certain life. And Y/n was ready to fit into it.

Narcissa nodded. "So very magnificent and exquisite." Draco and Y/n agreed with that. They both trusted her to know what she was doing. Plus, she would make sure she got exactly what they wanted. "So, that means you're going with a formal dress code."

Draco let Y/n have the lead on that. "I don't want a black or white tie dress code. I want formal, but I'd like to give a colour pallet."

Narcissa smiled. "Yes, I think it's a good idea. Just so everyone fits together in photos."

"Exactly." It was something Y/n had wanted since she saw the Dursley's wedding pictures. Different people in hundreds of different colours. That was not what she wanted.

Narcissa flicked a few more pages over. "Alright, what do you want for food?"

"A cake!" Draco exclaimed with a happy grin.

Y/n stroked a finger through his hair. "Obviously." She looked back to Narcissa with a smile. "I think a fancy sit-down dinner." She thought.

"It's like you read my mind," Narcissa commented with a laugh.

Y/n laughed back. "For desserts, I think a selection of lavish options. Maybe a cheesecake, panna cotta, something like that."

Narcissa nodded. "How about lemon meringue pie too."

Draco smiled, knowing it was his mother's favourite. "I think candy from Hogsmeade, too." He chimed in.

"Okay, we can do all of that. I think we should do fancy cocktails, too. Maybe a His and Hers one?" She suggested. Both of them quickly nodded. "Alright. I'm going to sort out all of the photographers, but what are you thinking for music?"

"String quartet for the ceremony, but I think something more fun after." Draco put in his own opinion. Y/n agreed with it.

Narcissa wrote down what he was telling her. "Lovely, so we are going to need to get booking a lot of appointments." She told them. "Firstly, wedding dress shopping. Y/n, we have an appointment in a month with a top London dress designer." Y/n's eyebrows raised, excited at that fact. "We're going to need to pick bridesmaid before the second appointment."

She already knew who she wanted. "Pansy as the maid of honour. Daph, Hermione, and Ginny."

Narcissa seemed surprised by how prepared she was but wrote the names down regardless. "Perfect. Just to get sidetracked, Draco, groomsmen?"

Draco raised his eyebrows and frowned. "Blaise as my main man and Theo. Let me think about the rest." He told her.

"So, we also need appointments for engagement photos, suit fittings, cake tastings, dress fittings, florists, and hair and makeup trials." She listed off. That idea made both Y/n and Draco stressed. There was so much to do.

"Maybe we just elope?" Draco suggested, nuzzled into Y/n's neck.

Narcissa raised one eyebrow, giving him a pointed look. "That's not funny." She told him seriously. It didn't stop the giggles coming out of his mouth.

"Okay, we've got save-the-dates to send out ASAP. I'll get that done." Narcissa told them. "Then you're going to need to register for gifts."

Draco clapped his hands. "Ooo, exciting."

"They're usually staples like sheets, pots, and pans." Narcissa wiped the smirk off his face with her playful taunt. "We've also got to find a place for the rehearsal dinner. And figure out a honeymoon."

"What do we need to do?" Y/n asked her, knowing Narcissa would be in charge of most of it. She wanted to make it as easy on her future mother-in-law as possible.

"Register for gifts, decide where you want to go on a honeymoon, write some vows and, Y/n, come to the dress fitting," Narcissa ordered them. Y/n and Draco both nodded in agreement. "I'm going to go back to the Manor then." She said, putting all of her copious amounts of paper away.

Y/n and Draco both gave her goodbye hugs. They thanked her for all she had done and was planning to do.

As soon as Draco had closed the door, he was tugging Y/n into him. His firm hands gripping her hips. He lent down to place his lips onto hers. It was rough and just the way she liked it.

"Mmm, Dray." Y/n moaned against his lips.

Draco smirked at her. "I missed you." He complained.

"Clearly." Y/n joked before pulling him back in for another kiss. "Wanna show me how much you missed me?" She asked, a shy smile on her face.

Draco couldn't help but nod rapidly before latching his lips back onto hers, slipping his tongue into her mouth. "Jump." He mumbled against her lips, wrapping his arms around her hips.

Y/n complied, wrapping her legs around Draco's waist while he carried her to bed.

~

Wedding planning was time-consuming. While Narcissa was taking the lead, there was a lot for Y/n and Draco to do.

Her bridal fitting was one of the first events. Narcissa went with her to the first one, where she found a dress. It was layered floor length, with thin straps, lace, and sparkles. The perfect mix of traditional and glamourous.

As soon as she tried it on she knew it was perfect. The look on Narcissa's face reassured her it was the perfect one.

"Oh, wow. You look stunning." Narcissa let out, wiping a tear out of her eyes as she put a hand over her mouth. She got up off her seat to walk over and look in the mirror with Y/n. "You've grown so much since I met you." She mentioned, pushing a strand of Y/n's hair behind her ears.

There were tears in Y/n's eyes then too. "I think this is the one." She said a smile on her face.

Narcissa nodded. "It's absolutely flawless." She smiled, still admiring the younger girl.

They brought it that same day. It was staying at the Bridal store until the bridesmaids' fittings.

Y/n had decided she wanted silk green emerald dresses for the bridesmaids. Their fitting was only a month later.

"Y/n, you look great!" Pansy said, running up to her friend in the streets of London. Y/n embraced her with a smile.

Daphne hugged Y/n after. Then Hermione and Ginny turned up.

Y/n had seen them, a lot. More than once a week. It was like no time was lost between them. They fell quickly back into being friends.

Surprisingly, Y/n had introduced Hermione and Ginny to Pansy and Daphne, and they seemed to be getting on.

"Hi, you guys," Y/n said as she hugged Hermione and Ginny. She introduced them to Narcissa before they all went into the bridal shop.

"Okay, we have to see you in your dress first Y/n." Pansy cheered, already drinking her champagne.

Narcissa had insisted on the best, most private fitting. The whole store had been rented out for them so they could sit on the luxurious sofas and try on dresses.

Y/n nodded, running off to the changing rooms to dry the dress on. She couldn't help the giddy feeling in her stomach.

When she came out, all of their mouths dropped. She looked flawless.

"It's stunning." Hermione was the first to speak, the rest of them nodding with what she said.

Y/n did a little turn for them, eliciting more gasps.

When she changed back into her normal clothes, she went to show them the bridesmaids' dress options.

They were mismatched shades of blue. A dusty blue, teal blue, ocean blue, and blueberry blue.

"It's so pretty." Ginny agreed.

"I want to see you all in them," Y/n commanded with a giggle before she handed out the dresses.

Pansy walked out in the darkest blue, Hermione in dusty, light blue, Ginny in teal, and Daphne in ocean blue. Y/n knew she had picked it perfectly.

From the hugs, compliments, and squeals of excitement, it was clear they did too.

Draco's suit was black with a light blue tie. He had wanted to go for any shade of green, but Y/n thought blue suited the theme better.

Narcissa helped them cross all of the things on their list of wedding-to-dos.

~

Quickly, it was the weekend before. The bachelorette party was at the Black family house in the south of France.

They took a portkey to get there. Y/n had never been there, but it was grand and overlooked the French Riviera.

"This is stunning!" Daphne said, looking around inside. It was magnificent. Stone walls and vines on the outside. There was a massive pool with a cabana. The architecture of the house was incredible.

The girls dumped their bags in their rooms before exploring. They counted 6 bedrooms.

"Oh, we should go in the pool!" Y/n yelled, stripping off into a bikini. The sun was out in full, heating the whole group's skin. The five of them lay by the poolside, occasionally taking a dip. By the end of the night, they were much tanner.

Dinner was a chance to get dressed up in white cotton dresses and walk to the marina to find dinner. They ate French food and far too much bread. There was also a lot of wine to drink and secrets to be shared.

The second day was spent out on a yacht sailing in the endless sun and crystal clear water. It was beautiful and peaceful.

"Are you excited?" Pansy rolled over to ask Y/n, stuffing a few grapes into her mouth as she sipped her wine.

Y/n nodded, not having to ask what she meant. "Beyond. Draco's the love of my life." She confirmed.

The third day in paradise was just as good. Unfortunately, they had to go home.

Draco was waiting for her at the door. "Baby." He grinned as she jumped into his arms.

"Hi, Dray." She replied as he spun her around. "How was your weekend?" At Draco's request, the boys had gone to Las Vegas because Draco wanted to 'do it right the first time, so he didn't have to do it again.'

He nodded. "I will admit, most of it's a blur." That made Y/n giggle. "But, it was great."

"You didn't get married?" Y/n asked him with a grin.

Draco just frowned. "Why would I do that?" He asked, not knowing about the muggle cliché.

"It's a muggle thing." She tried to explain, but his eyebrows were still furrowed.

Draco put her down, taking her stuff from her hands to their bedroom. Y/n followed him up there.

"I missed you, baby." He told her, scooping her up into another hug. He picked her up and dumped her on the bed, planting himself in between her legs.

"I've missed this." Y/n agreed, lacing her hands behind his neck to pull his face closer to hers.

~

The rehearsal dinner was at a Michelin star restaurant in central London. Apparently, Lucius had some connections in the muggle world.

A separate room was rented out, but Draco and Y/n kept it small. Narcissa, Lucius, Draco's grandmother, Harry, and the bridal party.

"Draco, we're going to be late," Y/n complained as Draco kissed down the top of her silk green dress.

He groaned as he pulled away, looking up at her with big eyes. "Can't we be late?" He questioned.

She shook her head. "Absolutely not. Now, put me down." She told him, unwrapping her legs from around his waist. They had a tendency for getting caught up in the moment.

Draco let her down, now towering over her.

"Let me fix your tie," Y/n told him, tightening the green silk. He had gotten his wish of some green.

Draco groaned. "Not so tight." He mumbled, causing Y/n to roll her eyes.

"You have to look impeccable," Y/n told him sternly.

"I always look impeccable." Draco declared with a wide smirk.

Y/n just rolled her eyes again before looking up at him. "You're ridiculous."

He pouted at that before reattaching their lips. "I love you, Mrs. Malfoy."

"I'm not Mrs. Malfoy yet." Y/n counted.

Draco looked at his watch. "You have less than 24 hours." He told her threateningly. "The time to run is now."

Y/n shook her head. "I don't want to lose this." She joked, holding up her ring finger. Draco pouted at that. "I'm kidding. I love you." She reassured him before kissing him again.

"Let's go," Draco told her, grabbing her hand and pulling her out the door.

They ended up in central London, thankfully not late to their own rehearsal dinner.

Narcissa and Lucius hugged both of them. Lucius' hugs were something Y/n still wasn't accustomed to, but she enjoyed them.

All of the bridal party turned up. They had seen each other during the day for the wedding rehearsal, but they were scrubbed up now.

"You look lovely, Y/n." Harry and Ginny complimented, coming over to hug the bride-to-be.

"Thank you." Y/n beamed.

She kept that smile on her face the whole night. Through Lucius' speech, dinner and dessert.

"Just before everyone heads off for the night, we do have one other thing," Y/n said after tapping her champagne flute.

Draco had raced off to collect the gifts they had to give to everyone.

When he came back, she continued. "Narcissa and Lucius, we've got these for you." Draco handed over the enormous bouquet of flowers and an envelope.

The older couple wrapped the younger in hugs. "Hotel bookings for next week in Southern Italy," Draco told them with a grin.

"Thank you both," Narcissa told them before sitting back down.

Y/n and Draco went around hugging each of the members of their bridal party and giving out the customised bottles of champagne they had designed.

Y/n and Draco were the left once their friends had, with Narcissa and Lucius.

"Mum, can we just go for a walk? I'll have her to her hotel room before midnight?" Draco begged Narcissa. He insisted on spending some one-on-one time with Y/n, and Narcissa couldn't say no to his pouting.

Narcissa agreed. "The girls are staying in her hotel suite, so you better have her back. Or you're going to be in big trouble with Pansy Parkinson." She warned, looking at him with stern eyes.

Draco gulped playfully before taking Y/n's hand. They walked off into a nearby park, Draco's arm wrapped around her waist. Thankfully, he had brought their jackets.

"Do we really have to spend the night apart?" Draco asked her pleadingly.

Y/n giggled. She had expected the questions when they first started planning the wedding eve. "Yes, Dray, or we'll have bad luck." She told him.

Draco huffed. "But I'll miss you." He complained, dropping his head on top of hers. "We can just Obliviate Pansy." He suggested.

Y/n looked up at him with a frown, shaking her head. "Draco Malfoy, we are not going to obliviate our friends."

"We could use the full body-bind curse?" He proposed.

Y/n giggled at him. "Absolutely not. I think you can just have some patience." She told him.

"Fine." He agreed before looking at his watch. "I guess I have to take you back now."

Y/n nodded, and they walked the few blocks to the hotel.

"Draco! I was just about to get your mother. It's 5 minutes to midnight." Pansy said as soon as she saw Draco and Y/n walk off the elevator, giggling.

Draco rolled his eyes. "Shut it, Parkinson. She's my fiancee." They had always had a playful relationship. To outsiders, it would look like Draco disliked Pansy, but he couldn't love her anymore.

"Children, calm down," Y/n told them with a giggle. "I'm here before midnight."

Pansy looked at her watch. "You've got three minutes to be out of our sight, Draco." She warned him.

"Could I at least farewell my fiancee?" He asked. Pansy nodded, still not going back inside the hotel room. "Without you here?" He questioned, eyebrows raised.

"I'll be back in two minutes." Pansy reminded him before slipping inside the hotel suite.

Draco rolled his eyes once she'd gone. "She's mental."

Y/n nodded with a smile. "But, we love her." She reminded him. He just rolled his eyes again.

"And we only have 1 and a half minutes before she storms out here," Draco complained.

"Let's not waste time then," Y/n told him, wrapping her arms around his neck to pull his lips down onto hers. They stood in the hotel hallway, kissing for a minute. After each time they pulled away, they were drawn back to each other. "Goodnight, Dray," Y/n whispered, again his lips.

"I'll see you tomorrow." He replied, leaning in for one final kiss. "Please don't leave me at the alter."

Y/n giggled but shook her head. "Never. I love you."

"I love you too." He said, and with one final wave, he was gone.

Pansy burst into the hallway only moments after, ready to kick some Malfoy arse.

"Don't worry," Y/n reassured her. "He's gone back to his hotel."

The boys were staying in another hotel because Narcissa didn't think Draco would be able to stay away from Y/n.

Pansy nodded, uncrossing her arms. "Good, now come in. We're doing shots."

That was not a good way to ensure waking up feeling fresh at 9am. But Y/n followed her in and drank anyway.

They were awakened by a knock on the door. Pansy checked the peephole, making sure it wasn't Draco before opening it. Y/n, Ginny, and Daphne groaned at Hermione, opening the curtains and flooding the room with sunlight. However, the view was beautiful.

The time on the alarm clock blinked 8:03 in red.

Narcissa was the one at the door, walking in and laughing at the state of the girls.

"Please don't laugh," Y/n begged after taking a panadol and putting on some sunglasses. She standing up.

In their drunken state, they had taken both king-sized mattresses laid them on the living room floor. Y/n managed to piece together that Ginny and Hermione shared on. Daphne slept next to her, and Pansy slept on the couch, facing the door in case Draco came knocking.

"I heard you had a fun night." Narcissa joked, still grinning.

Daphne groaned as she stumbled up. "Alright, who snitched?" She asked, looking around the girls.

They all shook their head before turning their attention to Narcissa. "Our room was a floor below. We could hear the dancing and music until 2 in the morning." She explained.

"Sorry," Y/n replied, feeling like she was being told off by a teacher.

Narcissa laughed. "Don't worry about it. Makeup and hair are starting at 9 though so you all need to be ready. I also brought you breakfast." She revealed a brown paper bag.

Pansy took it, looking into the bag. "Ooo, coffee." She pulled out the takeaway cups with a wide grin handing one out to each girl. "And danishes!" She cheered, way too loud for the rest of them.

"Alright, there are three showers so shower, drink coffee and eat," Narcissa instructed, acting like a mother at a sleepover.

The girls complied, all getting ready and eventually getting their hair and makeup done. Y/n hadn't looked in the mirror since she showered, but she was blown away by what she saw.

Even she would admit she looked gorgeous. The tears in Narcissa's eyes confirmed it.

"You look... there are no words." Narcissa said, her hands flying over her mouth.

Pansy, Ginny, Hermione, and Daphne nodded in agreement. All sharing similar teary-eyed looks.

Y/n ran off to put the dress on, carefully not to look in the mirror before she saw the end result.

When she came out, everyone's faces dropped even more. "You look perfect," Pansy told her.

Y/n grinned, turning to look in the full mirror. She couldn't believe how she looked. She had never seen herself like this before. The dress was tight in the torso, going into a full-length skirt around her waist. She ran her fingers over the delicate lace.

"I can't cry. I'm going to mess up my makeup." Y/n complained, trying not to let her eyes water.

They all laughed at her. "It's waterproof mascara," Hermione assured her. That started the tears.

The rest of the girls got changed, all coming out separately in their different shades of blue dresses. Narcissa's dress was tea-length and a dark shade of green. Y/n knew it would match Lucius' suit.

Then, they had champagne in celebration while the photographer took pictures. The sky was bright blue, and Y/n knew it was going to be perfect.

There was another knock on the door before it was time to go. Ginny raced over to answer it, knowing who it was. Harry.

Y/n heard their conversation. "You look so beautiful, Gin." He told her, placing a kiss on her lips. Y/n couldn't wait for their wedding.

"Come see the bride," Ginny instructed, pulling him over by their interlock fingers out of the foyer.

Harry's mouth dropped open when he was his twin sister. He couldn't believe how the little girl who used to untangle his unruly hair was now a bride.

"Y/n, you look stunning." He complimented once he could finally speak.

"Thanks, Har. So do you." Y/n replied, looking at Harry in his black suit with a blue plaid tie. She raced over to give him a hug.

Harry was still grinning when he pulled back. "Lily and James would be so proud of you two," Narcissa commented, pulling the twin's attention back to her.

They both smiled sadly at that. "That reminds me, I brought you this." Harry held out a bracelet. A bracelet with red stones. "I hope it doesn't clash with your dress, I don't really know much about that." He said, with a laugh. There were tears in his eyes Y/n could see.

"It's beautiful, Harry. Thank you." She held out her wrist so he could put it on.

"It's ruby, it was mums. She brought it when we were born because it's our birthstone." Harry explained. That made more tears stream out of Y/n's eyes. It was so sweet of him.

"Harry, thank you." Y/n thanked him again. "How did you?" She couldn't even finish her sentence with the tears.

Harry's tears were running free now as well. "Remus somehow got ahold of it." He clarified. The thought of their dead uncle made more tears appear.

She wrapped him in a hug again, holding him as tight as she could.

Finally, it was time to go. Y/n was sure she had never been this nervous. Her stomach was twisted, and she felt like she could puke.

Harry, her, Narcissa, and the bridesmaids all entered the limo that was taking them on the half-hour journey to the secluded castle.

When Y/n got there, she couldn't believe it. The turrets and grand stone walls. It was phenomenal.

There was a light dusting of snow on the ground and inside there were fairy lights strung everywhere. Harry held her hand the whole way inside.

Narcissa went in first and Y/n tried to peer around the doors to look at Draco but Pansy wouldn't let her. The castle was old inside as well but very grand. It had rounded ceilings and arches in marble stone. Y/n couldn't believe she was getting married here, despite having seen it before.

She knew the walk she was going to take. Down the marble staircase and into the ballroom where Draco was waiting at the altar. She just hoped she wasn't going to trip on the steps.

Ginny went next, the Hermione. Y/n could feel her nerves building, her heart starting to race. It was thumping in her chest.

"Hey, you'll be okay. I'll see you down there." Daphne mentioned, just before her walk. The bride nodded in reply.

Y/n felt like she was at the top of a roller coaster, just as it was about to go down.

"See you, Pans," Y/n said, hugging her maid of honour before she walked out.

Now she really felt like she was going to puke, and Harry could tell.

"Are you ready?" He asked, smiling down at her. Y/n had blocked out the music that was playing, her heart thumping was the only sound she could hear.

She gave him one last hug before he pushed open the doors. She took one deep breath before walking out, Harry's arm interlocked with hers.

From the top of the balcony, she could see the whole ballroom. It was more beautiful than she remembered it. Massive floor-to-ceiling windows were looking out on a snowy field, a tree perfectly in the middle.

The high ceiling was the most phenomenal part. It was painted with beautiful detail like the Sistine chapel.

Y/n scanned the whole room, from the white chairs to the bridesmaids and groomsmen. That's when she saw him. Draco Lucius Malfoy. He looked as good as ever and it made her even more nervous.

His eyes locked on hers, tears already on his cheeks.

Harry walked her down the steps, and down the aisle as Y/n smiled at all their standing friends and family.

When she reached Draco he looked even more perfect. She fell more in love with him then.

Harry shook his hand before giving Y/n one last hug.

"Hi," Y/n whispered, taking the place in front of Draco.

Draco grinned, tears still flowing. "You look... gorgeous." He told her, hand tracing her features.

She couldn't help but smile and return the compliment. "So do you."

Then, the officiant started. He read some passages from various books and explained the history of the couple. Y/n zoned out, already knowing the words he was saying, and admired Draco's face. The one she got to keep forever.

"We will now hear the couple's vows." The minister announced and Y/n beamed at Draco. "Draco."

"I, uh, I recently learned that we are all made of stardust. The particles in us have been around for billions of years, and they'll be around for a billion more. I only decided I believed in fate because I'm sure I've known you for millions of years and I hope I'll know you for a million more. Somehow, the universe allowed us to exist at the same time, despite the minuscule odds. It's improbable but I'm eternally grateful." Neither of them could stop the endless tears, all happy ones. "I went without knowing you for 11 September 1sts, but we were always looking at the same stars. When we did finally meet the stars aligned once more. No one knows this but for years we used to sneak out at night and look at the stars." Y/n giggled at the memory, realising everyone now knew about it. "I may be biased about my love for the stars, due to my name." Draco paused to look at Narcissa and Lucius who were also laughing. "But I'm positive our love has been written in the stars for millions of years and I'm going to make sure it is for millions more."

His words were so beautiful Y/n couldn't stop the tears. She looked around the room to see lots of other guests crying too.

Then it was Y/n's turn. She wasn't sure how she could top it, but she tried. Somehow she managed to get more tears.

"You may now kiss the bride." The minister announced once they had exchanged rings. Draco gently touched her waist, leaning in to give her a soft kiss.

"Mr. and Mrs. Malfoy." The minister declared, causing everyone to clap loudly.

"I love you, Mrs. Malfoy," Draco whispered in her ear.

"I love you too," Y/n replied with a smile.

It definitely was one of the happiest days of her life.

a/n: I've also had a request for a smutty honeymoon imagine so that will be coming out soon ;)

Hope you enjoyed it !

[mxaizupublishionhouse]

Seasons[Zhongli x gn!reader] Angst

Warning:Possible spoiler of Liyue Arc,death

Anyways,enjoy the read!

The seasons come and go like thoughts of you Like a wave returns to the sea into the blue They change but in a cycle that I can't lose Each painful but delightful to live through

  In his form of a handsome man filled with wisdom and knowledge of the histories and the past,Zhongli sure had met a lot of people. He kept the memories with him as he watched the people aged,fell into illness or passed away,he remembered it all.He witnessed the changes of Liyue Harbor from the start until now as his own people grew from past events and living in peace.

You came into my life Just like another season Not for long, just a time Just like another season

 But,deep down,he remembered someone that once live as someone important to him.The old days when they lived as a cheerful person and filled with kindness to help others.Delightful smiles always plastered on their [handsome/beautiful] face,accompany with a pair of stunning [eyes colour] eyes.Sweet voice of them humming never failed to amaze Zhongli and a pair of hands that cooked the most delicious food he ever tasted and kindness of an angel.He always stunned by the natural beauty that they owned and it sent love beats to his heart.Days of they spent together really important to both of them,collecting [favourite flower],lunch and dinner together and sometimes,stargazing together.

Maybe this time next year You'll reappear for no reason But I'll cherish everyday Until you come my way this season

  He fallen in love with a person named [y/n] with his heart.He willing to protect them in any kind of danger.He learnt about humans’ feelings so he can understand them even more.He also showed affection as best as he can like bought lunch and gifts for them.Their smiles always lighten up Zhongli’s days.

The seasons turn and change just like your mind Like the sun gives into the moon into the night Time continues marching, it slowly crawls With each new one starting I recall

But,every goods must come to their end..

 [y/n] laying lifeless in Zhongli’s strong arms,as he kneeling on the cold ground holding his lover close to him as he can see the usual bright smile on their lips,trying to cover the pain as life slowly drain off them..

They did their best to keep breathing and live for him.Their right arm was placed to stop the deep wound on their abdomen but the red liquid doesnt seem to stop anytime soon while the free hand caressing Zhongli’s wet cheek weakly,hoping to comfort him even a little bit.

“Zhongli..If I dont make it..I will see you next time okay?..”

“Dont say such things,[y/n].You will live..” “You already did your best, ài ren..”

Zhongli’ amber eyes widen at the name and tears now dripping down his cheeks,landed on the other’s right hand.The hand on his cheek now dropped down before he caught it with his gloved hand.

“[y/n]?..[y/n]..”muttered him under his breath weakly as he can see the beautiful smile slowly faded away.Even it just few seconds,Zhongli already missed the sweet humming as he held the body of [y/n] closed to him,slowly accepting the death.

The night filled with heavy raining pouring down onto his kneeling figure,like the sky joined him,crying for them.Zhongli knew [y/n] was just a mortal,that soon will leave him..

But,he just loved them so much

You came into my life Just like another season Not for long, just a time Just like another season

In the present days,Zhongli just living his life after the death of Rex Lapis as mortal Zhongli.He told stories and answered questions from the local and working in the Wansheng Funeral Parlor.He keeps the memories of the past and brings them with him whenever he go.Until one day..

The “next time” finally arrived

“Im sorry,sir”apologized someone after accidentally bumped into Zhongli’s back while he watching the Lantern Rite.He turned to see the figure better and tints of memories flooded back into him.

”Are you okay?”asked him with his usual deep voice that can be seen,sent light blushes to the other’s cheeks.”Im fine,sir.Im very sorry for bumping into you”apologized them again sent him a soft smile.

The sweet voice..The smile..Those really familiar to him..

“Im fine as long as you not hurt-”said him as his eyes saw the  lantern in their hands and asked “Mind if we release lanterns together?”with gentle voice as he showed them his lantern.The person blushed and nodded shyly. “S-sure,why not,mr...uh..” “Zhongli” “Mr Zhongli”said them with happy smile as both of them released their lanterns side by side,watching them flew up before joining the sea of bright lanterns in the night sky.

“Can I ask your name?Perhaps I can treat you out for a lunch next time?”

“It’s [y/n] and there’s no need to treat me for lunch,Mr.Zhongli”

“It’s fine,[y/n].Im sure we will get along well”

Zhongli cant help by smile as his eyes watching the person in front of him let out  a small happy smile.

You'll reappear for no reason But I'll cherish every day Until you come my way this season...

ài ren means lover/spouse

[xwing-baby]

Impulse: Aberration (Javier Peña x Reader)

Summary: Top of your class, the DEA have sent you to Colombia to be the poster child for their new ‘placement program’. You’re thrown in at the deep end into the drug war. With Agent Peña as your mentor, what could possibly go wrong?

Warnings: 18+ SMUT!!! Details of torture, description of injury, blood, murder, discussions of death, alcohol, penetrative sex, hurt/comfort, Javi has one one to deal with big emotions and thats it.

Word Count: 3.7k

A/N: Aberration: a departure from what is normal, usual, or expected, typically an unwelcome one.

<-- Previous Chapter  // Masterlist //  Next Chapter -->

---

Everything had felt off about this raid since the beginning. You had put the feeling down to nerves, it would be the first raid you were involved in that was outside the city limits, four hours outside the city into the jungle. A friend of Javier’s had gone missing a week ago, her ties to the cartels meant her abduction was important. As soon as a call came in mentioning her name and a possible location, Carrillo and Peña were immediately on it despite hesitation from you and Murphy. You never trusted calls from anonymous callers, especially ones calling a group of police into the jungle where nobody could find their bodies were it to go south.

You went along, not wanting to miss out on a trip into the jungle. Three months in the country and you had barely stepped outside the streets of Bogota or Medellin. Summer was coming fast, the humidity once you got under the canopy was immense. With a Kevlar tact vest on top it made for an entirely uncomfortable situation and made everyone more irritable before anything had even gone wrong.

The raid was a complete bust. A trap. If it wasn’t for Carrillo’s forward thinking in bringing twice as many men as usual, you wouldn’t have made it out alive. It was messy, more damage was done than necessary and the gains were pitiful. You didn’t find the girl or anything of interest, just more dead bodies. It was a setup, by the time you drove all the way back into Medellin whatever they had needed you out for would have happened. 

It had taken all day to get out there, for nothing. Exhausted and frustrated, you walked back to the truck. Javier was pissed. You had been so sure she would be here you’d even grabbed some spare clothes from your locker for her so she could wear something clean on the drive back. But she wasn’t here. 

You opened the door and went to climb up when you noticed Javier talking to one of the soldiers. You couldn’t hear what was said over the noise of engines but you quickly realised something was up when Javi began to walk back towards the house you’d just come from. You shut the truck door and jogged to catch up with him.

“Javi! What are you doing?” You called after him, “We’re done here,” Javi didn’t stop walking.

“You’re done. I’ll catch up with you tomorrow,” He said, a new determination that he hadn’t had before was set in his eyes that only made you more suspicious. He started to walk away from you again.

“Peña! What is going on?” You grabbed his arm and stopped him walking away any further. He glared at you, jaw clenching. He pulled his arm out of your grip harshly and started walking away again. Then it dawned on you. “They found her?”

“Carrillo’s got the asshole who took her. You’re going to get in the truck and go back to the city. This is nothing to do with you,” 

“I’m not done until you are, Peña,” You insisted.

“You’re so fucking stubborn,” He spat.

“Learnt from the best,” You smiled sarcastically. He sighed, ran his hands over his face. You waited for an answer, one hand on your hip, impatient.

“You know what? Fuck it! Come with me,” He exclaimed, “You want to see the real shit? Fucking come with me now. Don’t talk, don’t fucking breathe unless your told,”

You gulped down any rebuttal and nodded, shocked by his outburst. He turned around and began walking, you quickly followed behind.

You wished you had just done as you were told. Had listened for once. You had never regretted something so quickly in your life. 

Carrillo had found the missing girl's body in a ditch at the back of the ranch, alongside her panicking murderer. Caught red handed, he had only survived a short chase before being captured. Carrillo and Peña had known the girl for a long time, this was personal. 

He dragged the man inside, hands tied behind his back on a chair. All remaining soldiers had been sent back to the city, as you should have too. Carrillo had done a number on the man before you entered. Welts had grown on his face, blood dripping from his mouth. The man in the chair smirked as you and Pena entered, a gargled chuckle slipping from his lips.

You had to remain calm and collected, like the sight of Carrillo looming behind a bloodied man didn’t send shivers down your spine. You had asked to come after all.

You stood in the corner of the room; arms crossed over your chest trying to look intimidating. Not that you needed to be, the two men did that well enough on their own. Peña stayed with you on the side-lines for a short while, watching Carrillo take the man apart. Peña asked questions, his voice heavy and loud, booming against the walls of the empty house. The man didn’t answer, laughing at them for thinking he would break. Eventually Javier lost all patience and joined Carrillo in torturing the victim. 

You had heard of Carrillo’s more uncivilised methods; you had seen the aftermath left on his clothes before. It was scary to watch but nothing matched the fear Javier instilled in you. You had never seen him so angry, almost unrecognisable as he stalked around the man barking questions at him. He screamed at the man’s insolence until he was red in the face. You were terrified, fear pulsing through you. You were stuck the wall and had to force your eyes away as a resounding crack echoed through the room as a hammer met the man’s hand.

Vengeance spurred the men on to no end. You stood and watched them force information out of the man. Every punch, every cry, every word spat at the man chipped away at you. You had prided yourself on being unshakable. You weren’t scared of anything. But being trapped in a room with two men fully capable and willing to kill you, shook you. Not to mention the horror they were producing in front of your very eyes. 

It was pointless. Entirely gratuitous. The man was incapable of speaking, his jaw broken already. They weren’t going to get anything else from him but they continued until even his sobs of pain were quiet. Tears prick your eyes and you bit your tongue, not daring to make a sound. You looked up for a second and locked eyes with the dying man. Blood covered his face, jaw cracked and hanging loosely in his skin. His body twitched, lying limp against the restraints. It was worse than any horror shows you’d ever seen, but you couldn’t look away either. You knew he’d done terrible things, a trafficker of people and drugs; he’d murdered the men’s friend and yet you found yourself thinking he deserved better than this. 

A gunshot went off suddenly, making you jump and turn away quickly. Blood splattered onto the floor and onto your shoes making you jump out the way. It was over. 

Stepping back into the sunlight your head felt full of cotton. So impossibly loud with thoughts but with no room to breathe. You wanted to scream; let all the horror you had seen out. But you couldn’t. 

Carrillo and Javier rinsed their hands under a tap outside, red tinged water stained the earth below. You scuffed your shoes in the dirt hoping it would hide the blood until you could clean them or throw them out entirely. You kept your distance from them, arms wrapping around your chest to self-comfort. The two men muttered to each other, Javi catching your eye for a second. You couldn’t look at him, averting your eyes you didn’t see the remorse in them.

You should never have seen that. Not so soon. You wondered how often Javier had done that, he didn’t seem phased at all. Nobody did. You felt a little childish for getting upset, for reacting like a normal person, so stayed silent.

Two men came and collected the body from the house, throwing it into the ditch they had found the girl's body. Wild animals would take care of the rest. Once it was done, you cleared out. You silently followed Javier back to the truck. You were hesitant to be alone with him, the savagery of his actions settled in now. You sat in the passenger seat, shaking. You refused to even look at him, keeping your eyes on your lap, picking out the dirt from under your nails to distract yourself.

Javier didn’t know what to say to you. He’d regretted the decision to let you come along almost immediately. He’d shocked himself with his own depravity, Helena had meant a lot to him and Carrillo too. In that room something overtook him, he’d forgotten you were there until the bullet went in the bastard and he came back to reality.

Now you sat next to him, shaking, and trying not to cry. The tension in the air was thick enough to cut. He drove for an hour before it became unbearable. 

“Are you okay?” He asked. A stupid question, obviously you weren’t but he didn’t know what else to say. You had asked to come with him, it wasn’t entirely his fault. He couldn’t apologise for what had happened. He just wanted you to talk to him. 

Your bottom lip trembled as you tried to find words. You didn’t want to cry, didn’t want to show weakness but you couldn’t hold it together any longer.

“You can’t do that Javi! Y-you can’t do that to people!” You cried. Tears spilled as the words tumbled out your mouth and you sobbed, overtaken by emotion. It broke Javier’s heart. “How could you do that?”

Javier sighed heavily and shook his head. He should have expected it would end like this. He had no answer for you. His silence made you quiet again. You turned away from him in your seat, watching the jungle faze out again into green hills and cattle ranches. Frustrated, Javi switched the radio on to fill the silence.

You didn’t speak again for the rest of the journey. Four hours of driving stewing over your own thoughts. You wanted nothing more than to go to bed, curl up under the cover and pray that it was all some horrible nightmare, or some premonition. You could wake up, redo the day, and know not to go back there again and relive the horror.

Javier wasn’t sure what to do, this was the first low you’d hit. A big one at that. As if he wasn’t upset already about the brutal death of his friend, guilt was now eating him alive. He shouldn’t have ever allowed you to come, should have left you at base with Steve. You had to be stubborn. You had to be defiant. All day you had been getting on his nerves, the mission went badly and he was so angry your final pestering made him snap. He didn’t have the patience or the foresight, when the intensity of a situation overtook him it was all he cared about. He didn’t think about the consequences of his actions beyond revenge for Helena. This was yet another reminder of how badly the job of being your mentor was suited to him.

Finally, he parked the truck in the garage and followed you up to the apartments. Your cheeks were stained with tears, you shuffled inside obviously in your head and upset. Javi wouldn’t let you go just yet. 

“Rookie come and have a drink,” He said, breaking the hours of silence. He unlocked his door and pushed it open with one hand.

“I’m going to bed,” You replied quietly, already walking up the stairs to your apartment.

“It wasn’t a question,” He said firmly. You stopped on the stairs and sighed, not bothering to fight him anymore you turned around and ducked under his arm and into his apartment. 

Javier’s apartment was very similar to yours only bigger. Everything was practically in the same place bar the surprising amount of crap dotted around. You always assumed Javi just didn’t care enough about his living space to keep anything more than he needed. Ten years in Colombia had meant he had collected a lot of random things, there was no real organisation to it at all- bottles on a bar cart with glasses haphazardly stacked higher than was safe, books squashed onto a shelf all covered in dust. There was a small photo of some smiling people, his family you assumed, hung on the wall.

He bought out two beers, passed one to you and offered a seat couch to you. You sat down on the edge; Javier relaxed into the other side. With your mind still spinning, you didn’t want to drink. You awkwardly picked at the paper label, losing yourself in images of brutality playing in your head..

Javi didn’t really know what to do now. He wasn’t one for talking things out; he had hoped you would want to. He knew how he wanted to work it out, how he usually got through moments like this but he couldn’t think about that now. Javi felt it was his duty to help you, but he didn’t know how just yet. He watched you lost in your thoughts, gears visibly turning in your head. Finally, you gave in, collapsing backwards on the leather couch and sighing heavily. 

“I’m sorry Javi, you must be tired of me arguing with you all the time. I didn’t want to see that, you were right not to let me,” You said, finally turning your head to look at him. In the low light of his apartment tear streaks glowed on your skin. “I don’t know what I expected,” you laughed humorlessly. Javi shrugged and sipped the beer in his hand. 

“It gets easier,” 

“That’s horrible,” you replied sadly. 

Javi hadn’t thought much on the subject- it was best not to. He’d become entirely desensitised working down here and hadn’t noticed at all. It seemed like normal. Surely everyone knew what bones sounded like smashed under hammers, everyone knew the gurgle and hum of the last breath as someone choked on their own blood. But they didn’t. 

“I guess so,” He shrugged.

“I’ve never seen someone die before,” You said after a moment of silence. “I’ve shot people but they didn’t die. Or I didn’t see it if they did. It’s a lot less dramatic than I thought. It’s just... over,”

“First time I saw it was back in Texas,” Javi said, “Couldn’t have been much older than you, watched him bleed out on the side of the road,”

“What happened?” You asked. 

“Kid was caught with some weed, ran into the highway and got hit by a semi before we could catch up,” You saw his eyes glaze over for a moment as he remembered before he shook his head and looked up again.

“That’s rough,”

“Like I said, you get used to it,”

You sat quietly drinking together for a few moments, neither you or Javi knew what to say. 

The mixture of anguish and alcohol was not good. You could feel yourself heating up just looking at him. The thought of touching him, losing yourself in him, taking your mind off the tragedy of the day, was intoxicating. If you stayed any longer you wouldn’t be able to stop yourself going for it. You could go upstairs, cry into your pillow and hope your hand would do a good job releasing the pent up energy in you. Javi set his beer down on the floor and turned to you again, eyes wandering obviously over you as you sat opposite. You could feel your self control slipping.

You stood up quickly, Javi watched you curiously. A sudden wave of need overcame him at the thought of having to spend the rest of the night alone. It shocked him. Urgently, he grabbed your arm, stopping you in your tracks before you could announce your departure. You looked down at him, his eyes were wide and shining in the light as if he was trying not to cry. Locking eyes with him you knew what was about to happen, there was no escaping it anymore. In an instant he pulled you sharply down onto the couch and into his lap.

The kiss was desperate and messy. Javi moaned into your mouth, relief flooding his body as you kissed him back. A voice in his head told him to stop, but he couldn’t. Grief, remorse, and lust had taken over entirely. He needed a release, wanted to show just how sorry he was for what he had done. He shouldn’t be kissing you, shouldn’t be pushing your hips onto his, but he wanted to escape.

You needed it just as badly as him. You clung to Javi, grounding yourself in his touch. If he held you, he couldn’t hurt you, couldn’t scare you again. Your hands came to his chest, unbuttoning his shirt to reveal warm skin underneath. He helped you, throwing the item away before he pulled your shirt over your head and joined his shirt on the floor. 

You explored the new territory enthusiastically, feeling his strength beneath your hands as you kissed him. You pulled on his hair at the nape of his neck as his tongue explored you mouth making him moan again. He was much more vocal than you expected, each time it made your pussy flutter in anticipation.

Javi kissed you quickly, moving down your jaw to your neck and mouthing over the exposed skin above your bra. He didn’t move to take it off, just enjoying your taste. You bucked your hips sharply into his growing bulge, making him hiss and bite you. You whined, wanting him to do something and stop teasing you. 

“Have you got-?” You asked quickly. There was no need to pretend like you didn’t know what you both wanted now. 

“In the drawer,” He pointed at the side table next to the other couch. Part of you wanted to make a joke about his apartment being covered in condoms but now wasn’t the time. 

You stood up out of his lap and over to the drawer, pulling out a package and throwing it at Javi. He’d taken off his pants in the time you were away. He watched you with hungry eyes, stroking his cock idly watching you. Overcome by need, you shoved your pants off leaving them on the floor before scrambled into his lap again.

He kissed you quickly, chased kisses down your jaw and neck. Your mind wandered, remembering for a moment the blood and screams, the fear Javi had put in you watching him torture that man. The same hands you had watched drip with another man's blood were now groping your ass. You screwed your eyes shut, pushing out the thoughts and slowly sank onto his hard cock. 

Javi sighed, biting his lip to stop himself saying something stupid. You felt amazing around him, warm and wet. All doubt he had before left him entirely, he was consumed by you. He nearly lost his mind entirely at the pathetic noise you made when he shifted you up slightly. All his focus went on you. 

“Lo siento, hermosa,” Javi mumbled as he kissed your neck. You only nodded, whimpering as you circled your hips around. Javi’s eyes rolled into the back of his head, cursing your name. You were far too good at that. “Again,” He panted, you complied and drew another moan from his lips.

Neither you nor Javi would last long, but that wasn’t what this was about. It was taken what you needed from each other, affirmation of life and trust. His head rested in your chest, lips kissing your sweaty skin as you ground onto his cock. His hands held you close, heavy on your back as you moved above him. You moved faster now, long strokes of your hips up and down over his cock. Gasping breaths and the slap of skin on skin filled the room as you and Javi lost yourselves in each other.

Your legs began to shake as you neared your high, you gasped his name. Javi shifted under you, getting leverage, and started cantering up into you, his hands holding you still. You moaned loudly as he hit a new spot that had you reeling. Javi settled back against the couch, fucking you harder and watching with delight as you fell apart. 

Your orgasm rolled over you like a tsunami wave. So good you swore your soul left your body. You cried out, pussy fluttering around Javi’s cock pulling him along with you. Javi stopped moving, pulled you close and kissed you hard, moaning into your mouth as he spilled into the condom. You bucked against him, dragging out the lasts of your high.

Finally, you stilled, coming back down to earth again. Resting your forehead on his, you giggled as endorphins took over. Javi smiled, kissed your forehead before you tilted your head to catch his lips again. The kiss was sweet, urgency gone now. He kissed you languidly, fingers brushing over your cheeks. He was calm again, all anger and frustration fizzed out in your shared orgasm.

He lifted you off his cock, you whimpered at the loss. You lay limbless on the couch, watched him pull on his pants before he disappeared into the bathroom. 

You didn’t feel anything, no worry no anger. You were on clouds. You couldn’t find it in you to worry about any of the inevitable consequences of what just happened. 

You redressed while Javi was gone, feeling a little exposed entirely naked except your bra on his couch. You laughed to yourself when you saw where your shirt had ended up, draped over a lampshade. You pulled it on, and were halfway through buttoning it up when the bathroom door opened again.

“You good?” Javi reappeared, a satisfied smile on his face. You nodded.

“Good,” You replied with a smile. “You?” He nodded and settled back on his couch, lighting a cigarette, and taking a drag. 

There was a silent understanding that nothing that had occurred today would ever be spoken about again. It was done. Apart from the bruises Javi had left on your neck, there was nothing left of any of it. You had both needed the stress relief, your trust was back and you could move forward with a clean slate. 

---

Next Chapter -->

soo yeah... wanna get tagged?? let me know!!

Tagging:  @beskar-tano @buckysbeloved @beskarbabs @all-hallows-evie @harrys-stan @themidnightsun-12 @wille-zarr @danniburgh @itsaisopodkillmepls @urbankaite2 @whataloadofmalarkey @ahsofka @yeetus-my-feetus @sara-alonso @lesbianlena @xiao-lusi @all-good-things-have-an-ending @eternallyvenus @ajeff855​ @mayangel19 @1950schick @pedrosmustache @wantingtobekorra

[chocolate-parfait]

Yay, askbox is open! I hope that means requests too, if not please ignore this and sorry. But could I request another angst? Could I please ask for headcannons for Dazai (and the others could be either Theo, Vincent, Leo, Comte, Will or Arthot, you can choose two, 'cause I can't XD) who find their S/Os suicide note? You can take it wherever you want from there. Thank you so much, love your works <3 Have a grwat day!

Hi @robin-the-enby !! I'm happy to see you in my inbox again, and although this took me embarrassingly long (my procrastination tendencies and school got the better of me :,)), I'm more than happy to provide something that will help with your coping! Despite it all, I hope that you'll get better soon and hang on a while longer. I'm sure this prolonged pandemic has had negative effects on most people's mental health, but remember that we'll get through this in one way or the other! Stay strong and keep fighting, if it gets too much don't hesitate to take a break and go easy on yourself❤

Halfway through I realized I was writing scenarios instead of simple headcanons ,, I was too engrossed in writing to realize it oops 🧍‍♀️ 🧍‍♀️ 🧍‍♀️

Finding MC'S suicide note - Ikevamp headcanons (Dazai, Arthur & Leonardo)

(TW; suicide / mentions of self-harm / major character death / blood)

(CW; slight and inaccurate spoilers for Dazai's past)

For those who'd like to avoid specific contents, this is what I wrote for each suitor:

Dazai - MC is unconscious and bleeding, I didn't specify whether they survive or not

Arthur - MC is stopped before they can do anything, survives

Leonardo - MC isn't stopped in time, dies

Dazai

It was as if history was repeating itself. The message, the bloodied sheets and the unconscious body. The only different thing was perhaps.... him. It was a him that had experienced true happiness, a him that had learned forgiveness, a him that knew better than retort to suicide as a way of repentance. And yet... was it not enough? Dazai's mind swirled with the pungent thoughts of his own fate as he ran with your body in his arms. He ran, and ran, and ran, passing by a seemingly endless succession of hallways and wooden doors.

Never before did he wish your room was closer to Arthur's, as he felt your body grow colder and his clothes dampen with blood with each step forward. And yet the stars that were now adorning the night sky's black cape, seemed to be offering their compassion to him, for when Dazai burst into the writer's room he saw him sitting at his desk, completely sober and still functioning in the middle of the night.

Arthur slightly turned in his chair, and as he was about to comment with displeasure how rude it was of the man to come into his room completely unannounced, his mouth was left agape and eyes wide open, wordlessly staring at your limp and seemingly unmoving body as the smell of blood hit his nostrils in mere seconds.

"What in the Heavens happened-?!" Arthur abruptly stood up, leaving his half-finished manuscript forgotten on the table, rushing closer to check your pulse. The two novelists had never liked each other, a difference in life choices maybe, but it surely was not a hate that could surpass even the most perilous of situations, particularly because you were an outsider to their rivalry. As such, Arthur did not hesitate to put to good use all his medical knowledge, carefully rushing through every step to avoid the worst.

Seconds slowly transformed into hours, although Dazai was convinced time had stopped ever since the moment he had found you on your bed, utterly frozen in a state of unconsciousness with a crumpled letter of apologies laying on the bloodied sheets. The only thing that perhaps gave him the slightest hint to time’s passing was the way he could feel the blood on his chest and hands grow drier as the night morphed into the day.

As the first rays of light poked from behind the thick curtain of the doctor’s room, Dazai sat by his bed, right next to you, silent and outwardly calm, although dazed in the raging storm inside his heart.

Perhaps this was what Destiny itself had decided for him. Perhaps it was wrong of him to blame casualty instead of himself. His old, stupid self, who hadn’t learnt a single thing from past mistakes. But as his fellow vampire’s warm hand came to rest on his shoulder, Dazai decided to delay all judgment about his negligence until the Gods determined your fate.

Arthur

Staring at the familiar handwriting, Arthur felt his whole body grow numb, as if someone had thrown him in the darkest depths of the ocean, leaving him to suffocate under the overwhelming weight of the waters above.

He had noticed the worsening of your symptoms, but he had never imagined you'd go to these lengths. He had gravely underestimated your condition, and he could already hear the old ghosts of his past laughing at him, pointing their fingers while mocking him. But now, he had no time to worry about his own lack of foresight; his priority was getting to you in time, so that all could be fixed, hopefully.

Scanning the writing on your tear-stained note, his brain started listing all the possible places where you could've gone with a speed that would leave speechless even Sherlock Holmes himself. The writing was hurried and scrambled, meaning that it was a sudden decision. The city was too far away and bustling with people that could interfere, so it was an unlikely location. As he was running around the mansion in search of you, he passed in front of the terrace on the last floor; there, he saw your clothes swirling in the wind, and your figure standing on the stone railing.

He almost crashed against the glass door as he launched himself forward with extreme speed. You were there, looking down and slightly trembling. You were scared, as it was normal, but if death frightened you so, then what pain would be so strong to push you in its embrace? To drive you away from his warm arms and into the eternal darkness? Was such a painful experience worth the possible relief?

"MC!!!" Arthur shouted out of instinct with his whole lungs, like a volcano erupting in all its fury. A few steps later and you were falling backwards, your back colliding with his chest as he harshly pulled you to him. It all happened so fast that you didn't even have the time to turn your head and look at him. Now that you were on the ground, safely locked in his embrace, everything slowly sank in.

His voice came out choked and trembling. "W-what were you thinking-?!" He was trying so hard to hold everything back; the tears, the sobs, the anger in his voice. He was angry at himself, and you were not the target of his resentment, but he realized that it could be easily misunderstood by someone in your situation. Taking a deep breath and turning you around, he stared deeply into your pained eyes, softening his iron-like grip on your forearms.

His voice now steadier yet gentle with affection and worry added:"Love, I'm sorry for not noticing all of this sooner. I'm sorry for not helping you enough. Still, I want to be of some use to you, I want to be there for you.” A sharp breath interrupted his speech, maybe from him, you or perhaps both of you. “…So please, please rely on me; whenever you feel like you can't do it anymore, whenever you feel like you have enough of life, give me the chance to help you."

Seconds later, you burst into tears, sobbing confused "I'm sorry"s in the crook of his neck. Arthur slowly caressed your hair soothingly, as his heart continued to painfully hammer against his chest. He knew this was not going to be an easy nor a short journey; it was going to take time, and it would be hard, but he wouldn't give up on you no matter what. Through thick and thin, the way you did for him, he was going to support you the whole way.

"I love you more than anything in the world, MC." he added at last, hugging you tightly.

Leonardo

The deafening sound of crickets did not reach the man’s ears. He couldn’t hear anything but the fast pumping of his own blood in his veins. A heartbeat that had never and would never stop; stronger than anyone else’s, but also alone. The sound of his heart was utterly lonely, the only one under the white gazebo, now shrouded in the darkness of the night.

How much he would give not to hear it anymore, to put an end to it right then and there. But he couldn’t. And as Fate loved torturing him endlessly, he was now once more deprived of a person he loved. But this time was different than the countless others before. He thought he had gotten used to the company offered by Death herself, and it had been long ever since tears burned within his eyes, as if made of fire.

Between his arms laid a lifeless body, utterly still and deprived of any warmth. It seemed like mere moments had passed when Leonardo was contentedly caressing your hair as a tired yet relaxed sigh fell from a pair crimson lips, which whispered some loving words before blooming into a smile. Now, they were pale and slightly agape, a cold frown sculpted onto the body’s face. Perhaps he had gotten so used to the passage of time that he did not pay it more mind. Perhaps all his memories took place too long ago, and perhaps things had changed considerably from those happy moments you shared.

Leonardo’s expression subconsciously mimicked your own, one that would remain in his mind for who knows how long, and he did not dare to move away, sitting there with you for the very last moments of his eternally long life. He tried not to think about the way his heart lurched in his chest like a ship at sea during a storm when he found your note. Your handwriting, calm and precise as if it was a decision you had made long ago; where was his mind wandering off to while you were deciding to seal your own fate?

Silently strangling all those whirling thoughts in his head until they died down, leaving him in a deathly silence, he lovingly bid you farewell with a final kiss to your lips.

“Hopefully, we’ll meet in another life.”

“Next time, I won’t let this happen again”

Suffering was human, but he had learnt all too well how contagious pain could be. And yet, he now found himself isolated in his grievance, for you weren’t with him anymore.