#he realizes oh oh after EVERYTHING after that whole fucking journey after nearly dying

[whatohitsonfirewelp]

So like,,, we’re not just going to ignore the fact that the hellhound getting into camp was a key point in the book, right?

[livuvur]

Favorite Edwin moment? Either 03 or BH?

Oh god that's a hard one... Considering I love every moment the two of them are on screen together but I will try, (also note I'm not including the most well-known, iconic moments aka gun scene/proposal, etc.) Just to keep the variety a little, I'm gonna focus more on moments that I believe have very high significance to their relationship but simply don't get talked about nearly enough. (Not in particular order)

1. This moment, especially in the manga makes me very very soft, in the page before this one we see ed being all miserable by himself, he goes to call winry (who is also being all miserable by herself) and I really do love the approach of this moment as it is not Ed trying to comfort Winry after Hughes' death nor bringing up the topic at all, since he himself doesn't know what else he could say about it, on top of the fact that he feels responsible for what happened to him, instead, he just tries to make sure winry doesn't go without eating because it would do her no good, and attempts to leave, but then she just takes his hand and leads him into her room and his face as she does so is just so utterly adorable... I love how soft that panel is, and how despite Ed not being one to comfort her she is still non-verbally asking him to stay, because she needs him by her side in those moments, and his presence alone is enough, and then, despite how he had just eaten he still accepts the apple pie Winry made because she put so much of her heart and her effort into it. And once he sees the tears gathering in her eyes he is simply physically incapable of saying no to her.

2. I think I've talked about these panels before on here, something very interesting to me is how the first panel shows ed admitting he always saw Winry as someone so upbeat and cheerful, to the point it is easy for him to forget how much pain she's actually been internalizing the whole time, and then scolding himself for not understanding her feelings at all. And then you have Winry seeing right through Ed, saying she knows he is just trying hard to be tough (and that he is an idiot, *cough*). The thing is, Winry has seen Ed at his worst, she was there taking care of both him and Al when they had lost everything and Ed was struggling under the weight of his guilt and pain, she saw him crying and sobbing everyday, she even mentions that at nights he just couldn't stop moaning from the pain and fever automail caused him. And on the other hand, Ed had been thinking quite the opposite about Winry, because she was always there being a rock for both him and Al even after having lost her family herself, she was there, always smiling for them and supporting his every step with such strenght he couldn't even imagine she was simultaneously grieving as well. Ed always saw Winry's strenght, but she always knew his weakness all too well.

3. Self-explanatory, I'm a sucker for edwin parallels: she thinks of him while she's dying, he thinks of her while he is fighting to stay alive. They are obsessed with each other, next one.

4. THIS MOMENT, GOD. “seeing it made me realize I couldn't go home”, “I want to be able to help you, so your road's not so hard” this whole scene is just so overlooked it hurts, cause it just goes to show Winry's love and dedication to Ed, and how his determination and resolve inspire her own, she is always looking to improve in any ways she can to help him, Ed literally is able to walk and to continue his journey because of her, (and he reminds it to her in one of her darkest moments) and I just think it's amazing how they're both always challenging each other under different circumstances, this is just one of them, with Winry declaring she is gonna push herself to be the fucking best she can so she can be there for him. (Also his sudden self-awareness and blush when he realizes he is staring at her smile... *blows them up with dynamite*)

5. Again, self-explanatory. Absolutely fucking love some good male rage when his boo is threatened, Bradley didn't even have to lay a finger on her and this guy was ready to strangle him right there. (Also Olivier's entire speech in BH saying Ed's eyes were “desperate” and of “a boy who would do anything to protect the things he loves” when he refused to tell her anything about the homunculi because Winry was a hostage, even tho he knew Olivier could have chopped him in little pieces just because of that. <3

6.

Damn apparently I can't add more images lmao but basically this whole thing they unspokenly have going on where they give each other an item that belongs to the other so they keep it as a reassurance/promise they will see each other again: Ed giving winry his red coat after the gun scene, Winry giving Ed her earrings and asking him to keep them safe for her, and even in their very last scene, Winry keeping Ed's white hoodie, the one he wore when he came back home to her. Just. They are so. Yeah.

Believe me I have many more I could go on for hours, I wanted to include some 03 moments too, but it's 1 am and I need sleep so yeah (also forgive any grammar/spelling mistakes on this I really do need to 💤)

thank you for the ask !

[odetojeons]

Until It Feels Like You’re In Heaven — Jeon Wonwoo

request:  Hello do you still take requests? Your writing is amazingggg!! Thank you for existing 😭💕. Can i req a whipped dom!wonwoo x fem reader where he has a size kink and a smol gf please? I think that will be a cute concept 🥺

tags: fem and sub!reader, dom!wonwoo, size kink, tattoed and pierced jeon wonwoo just because, oral (m receiving), unprotected sex (uh idk why but I never write sex with a condom help), established wonwoo x reader, a tiiiny bit of spitting kink, very light verbal humiliation, aftercare, this goes from fluff to horny really quickly, fluff if you squint (or not?), a frankly unrealistic amount of cum, OH AND, stomach bulge 🥴

a/n: so haha I am back? with more filth? I tried adding fluff (even tho I completely forgot that the person who made the request asked for whipped wonwoo, good thing this is always in my agenda every time I write so I didn't have any problems lmfao) but I'm too much of a horny bitch and a simp for this man so,, idk? tell me what you think later! I hope you all perish— I mean, like this!

Word Count: 7826

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⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ “Aren’t you going to help?” you question, lifting a brow at your boyfriend, who’s currently sitting in one of the chairs and supporting his chin with the palm of his hand, plate of onions that should be already cut laying untouched in front of him.

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“Nope,” Wonwoo answers, giving you that kind of smile which makes you almost, almost feel less annoyed at the fact that you’ve been trying to reach something in the upper shelves for the last five minutes and he doesn’t move his ass to help you at all. “You’re just too cute trying to reach something.”

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There’s heat creeping up your neck, cheeks tinting red, and Wonwoo's smile gets bigger, shining and full of fondness. It leaves you stunned in silence for a while. It’s hard not to be in love with him. But it’s not like you try anyways.

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“J-just hurry up, aren’t you hungry?” you cough, looking away solely because you can’t stand the warmness in Wonwoo’s face without feeling like you’re going to combust any time soon.

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“I am. I can help you out,” he states simply, but doesn’t make a move. You gesticulate with your hand, pointing at him and at the rice jar in the upper shelf. “But only if you say please, though.”

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“I’m—” laughing incredulously, you roll your eyes and cross your arms over your chest. “Would you please get the rice jar for me, sir?”

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Wonwoo stares at you for a second too long, eyes a bit dark, and gets up to get the jar, without breaking eye contact. You instinctively make yourself smaller when his bigger and broader frame hovers over you, large enough to swallow your tiny body. The size difference has always been something you both feel incredibly turned on by.

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“So small,” he appreciates, always does, and your neck burns from the intensity of your blushing. “The cutest.”

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Wonwoo puts the rice jar in your hands, the darkness in his face melting into a beam.

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“Here it goes, little girl,” he says, going back to his chair to complete the task which he has been doing for at least ten minutes now. The way he says little girl has you dumbfounded, heart hammering against your chest. “Are you just going to stand there? Do you like being called little that much?”

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“Shut up,” you admonish, blushing furiously as you turn on your back to continue what you were doing.  You just hate how everything Wonwoo does affects you so much. You’re sure this must be bad for your health.

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The two of you continue your journey through cooking and eating after you’re both done with the preparations. Things with Wonwoo are always so easy, everything feels natural and domestic and the bubbling feeling of happiness you feel whenever you’re with him lulls you to fall in love with him even deeper than before.

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The way he teases you when you’re clumsy and spill sauce over yourself, but still cleans you up with the most fond smile ever, like you’re so completely adorable he can’t help himself. Or when you put more salt in the food than you should and you know it’s not that good, but he still compliments it and tells you he loves it so much, the sincerity in his eyes makes a surge of something pull at your lower stomach.

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If Jeon Wonwoo isn’t the love of your life, you don’t know who is.

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But right now you just want the ground to eat you alive and swallow you whole, because you’re standing right in front of the bed. The one bed. To which it suddenly doesn’t look big enough, not as you remember.

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Well, it’s not like you have never shared a bed before, you have even had a shit ton of sex in this exact piece of mattress, but the thing is, it’s been a while since you last saw Wonwoo. His job required him to spend three months away, and this is the first time you came to his house ever since he came back two days ago.

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You consider throwing yourself out of the window and into the dark, miserable night, thinks your poor heart will explode otherwise.

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“I’m not going to eat you.” Wonwoo’s voice carries over from the bathroom door, startling you into action. You jerk toward the bed, jumping on it and face flushing. You had showered before him, now dressed with one of his big shirts.

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It fell all the way to your mid thigh, the size difference between the two of you making you almost drown on the fabric of his clothes. It smells nice, smells like Wonwoo, and your cheeks burn when he drinks the sight of you in with dark eyes, not even trying to hide.

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“Unless you want me to,” he adds, not helping your situation at all.

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BSHANDJAJSND?, your brain supplies.

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“Oh my god,” you admonish, yanking the blanket off the bed and just as you get in, your eyes hone in on the ink swirling up Wonwoo’s right biceps. You have seen the tattoo through the pictures he sent you before, the snake crawling up to his shoulder, head stopping at his right chest.

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This is, however, the first time you’ve seen the metal bar through one of Wonwoo’s nipples — to which you already knew the existence of, but looking in person is totally different —, heat winding in the pit of your belly as you realize the snake is looking right at that same nipple. Unfortunately for your poor heart, he’s wearing nothing but a pair of sweats, hanging low on his hips, slim waist on display.

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Wonwoo is… hot.

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There’s no other way to put it despite your best efforts. He looks like one of those Greek statues, rippling muscle and hand carved abs, the cut of his jaw too sharp to be real. Your mouth waters and you can’t look away.

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And Wonwoo has been changing. He always had the thin type of body, being slim and tall, but in the end of last year he started exchanging the lazy hours he spent gaming with animated workouts at the gym — something about the way he was wasting his precious time of life and he could be acquiring knowledge and being healthy instead of sitting in front of a computer for hours —, and holy fuck if the result wasn’t quite the damn view.

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You draw the blanket right up to your chin, back very purposefully to Wonwoo’s side of the bed as you’re still trying to stop the mild heart attack you have going on. You don’t want to see him climbing into bed for safety purposes but that doesn’t mean your heart rate doesn’t spike up when the bed dips. When Wonwoo settles down under the same blanket, your brain very enthusiastically — and meaningfully — points out that you’re only a few centimeters away and that there’s nothing separating you.

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His abs flash behind your eyes and you nearly throw the blanket off, ready to storm out of the room and sleep on the sofa instead. You let out a breath you don’t even know you’re holding when Wonwoo flicks the flight off, the room disappearing into darkness, before he turns on the red leds from under his bed.

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You feel warm all over with the fact that he still remembers you don’t like sleeping in complete darkness.

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You try not to tense too much when he drapes an arm around your waist, locking you in. Your legs tangle together as he adjusts himself better, the other arm coming behind your head to serve as a pillow. Now you’re not only dying from the closeness but as well essentially drooling over the bulge of his thick biceps.

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Congratulations universe for managing to make you even more desperate.

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You’re not sure how long you just lie there, staring out the window, unable to fall asleep. Your brain doesn’t want to shut off, a blaring alarm of Jeon Wonwoo going off in your head.

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“I missed you so much,” Wonwoo says as if he read your thoughts, voice soft and filled with warmth, and you find yourself immediately melting in his arms despite your nervousness. “Thought I was going crazy without you, munchkin.”

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There’s a hard squeeze in your heart. You just love so much when he calls you that.

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“Missed you too,” you admit with a smile, the tip of Wonwoo’s nose dragging through your hair as he inhales the smell of his own shampoo. “Missed your smell.”

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“Just my smell?” Wonwoo teases with a light tone, caressing his free hand on your inner thigh. It was supposed to be a feather-like gesture, but the closeness between the two of you made your body oversensitive, and you find yourself moaning softly as your skin rocks with a shiver.

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Wonwoo tenses immediately when he hears the sound, hand stuttering to a stop. There’s a beat of what you call the most painful silence you ever had — your mind swirls with the thought that you just ruined the mood, face heating up uncontrollably at your own neediness —, before his fingers sink into the flesh of your inner thigh, startling you with the strength behind his grip.

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“Answer me.”

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You whine louder this time, the realization of his change of tone going from fond to an irrevocable order sinking wanton deep within your lower stomach. You try to close your legs, but Wonwoo’s leg stops you where it rests right in the middle of them, dangerously close to your throbbing core. You wonder if he could feel the heat emanating from it.

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“N-no,” you begin, voice already shaken up. Wonwoo’s breath caresses the helix of your ear, making goosebumps surge all over your skin. “Missed y-your bed too.”

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“Is that so?” he hums, chest vibrating where it presses against your back. “What else, munchkin?”

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“Missed—” your voice gets caught up in your throat when he licks your helix, teeth pulling the lobe of your ear. The soft drag of his lips all over that place is making your job difficult. “M-missed all of you, hmmm.”

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Wonwoo hums again, pleased with your answer, and leans so close to you your body gets half pinned to the bed. This way his bigger frame completely engulfs your smaller one, the difference between your sizes getting even more overwhelming now that he’s bulked up.

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And you’re not the only one affected by it, because as soon as Wonwoo realizes how he almost swallows you up in this position, he downright moans right by your ear.

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“So fucking small,” he tells you appreciatevely, voice one octave lower as his fingers presses on your inner thigh harder. “Missed touching you.”

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There’s a shift in Wonwoo, his leg rising up between yours and stopping centimeters away from the heat of your cunt, and you can’t hold back the shiver, wants Wonwoo to press down there. When you attempt to slide Wonwoo’s hand up and off of you so then you could turn around, you’re met with a growl instead, Wonwoo bodily pinning you to the bed.

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“Where do you think you’re going?” he asks, and it makes you feel like you’re a prey just ready to be caught by the big, bad wolf. You whine softly at that thought, hand coming to grab at Wonwoo’s wrist reflexively.

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“Wonwoo,” is your answer, like that would explain everything. Wonwoo chuckles softly, embarrassment burning on your cheeks.

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“When we called and I saw your face,” he says, barely above a whisper. “I wanted to fuck you so bad.”

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Suddenly, you can’t remember how to breathe, Wonwoo’s mouth on your neck, planting a soft kiss just under your ear. He nuzzles into the same spot, kisses lower and your heart shakes loud enough you think the neighbors might hear, hyperaware of every inch of your bodies touching.

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“I know I couldn’t, so I did it all from behind,” Wonwoo admits, sending your mind into a little haze. Of course he has been jerking off to the thought of you, but hearing him say it out loud has your panties getting soaked. “Sticking my dick in…”

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Wonwoo hasn’t stopped nuzzling you, in some kind of daze as he inhales your scent. There’s a hand on your hip now, holding you down, liquid heat pooling in your belly, spreading outward.

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“…and fucking you mercilessly…” he continues, voice getting deeper and rougher with each word, his breath labored. “…and watching you cum endlessly… I thought I would be fine just imagining it.”

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“W-Won—” you start, breathless, the sound of your own voice sounding so airy leaving you embarrassed. But then finally, finally he presses his thigh into your core, your hips immediately going down to rut hard against the muscle.

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“Fucking drenched,” Wonwoo snarls lowly when he feels the wetness of your soaked panties dirtying the fabric of his sweatpants.

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The sound makes you writhe on the bed, fists balling in the mattress.

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“But seeing you, so small…” the trace of Wonwoo’s hand in your skin is light, almost like a gentle whisper as it makes a burning path up, up, up until it stops by your neck, fingers closing softly around your throat. “Makes me want to rail you, carve the shape of my big cock inside your walls.”

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Wonwoo’s teeth sink into the skin just at the base of your neck. It’s hardly a bite, you know he could leave worse, but then Wonwoo laps at it afterwards, tender, surrenders you into moving your hips obscenely on his thigh. The way he says, knows his cock is big has heat licking your insides, and if it were anyone else saying the same thing you would be cringed, but there’s just something special about Jeon Wonwoo doing this that makes him look like the hottest man alive.

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“You’re addicting,” Wonwoo admits with a growl, the feeling of his touch turning possessive as he helps you ride his thigh better by a hand on your waist. “Once I get a taste I can’t stop myself from wanting more. Wanna have my way with you until you’re all mine.”

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Need seeps through your bones, body trembling as you try to scatter the air it has been knocked out of your lungs when Wonwoo fits his cock in the curve of your ass.

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“Y-you’re hard,” you comment, as if it’s not obvious, but it has been so long since the last time you felt his bulge pressing against you that it makes you desperate. “You’re so hard.”

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“Who’s fault do you think it is?” Wonwoo questions, groaning when you sway your hips from side to side on his cock.

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“Can we…” you trail off, hiding your face in the pillow. “Y-you know?”

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“Nope, you gotta be more specific,” he says with a teasing smile, and you smack him in the arm. Wonwoo laughs before his voice gets serious. “Say it.”

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This switch of him turning on and off between a sweet boyfriend to the man who doms you never fails to give you a whiplash.

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“Can we— Can w-we fuck?” you ask shyly, wanting the ground to swallow you whole. You have no idea why you are being this shy.

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“Hmm, it depends,” Wonwoo hums like he’s considering the options. You turn to look at him, mortified, but he only laughs at your indignation. “Are you going to be a good girl for me?”

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You blush furiously at the question, face turning to look away as you mumble a yes, but then Wonwoo’s grabbing at your jaw and yanking your head back in place until you’re staring right in the deepness of his eyes, the intensity of them stunting you into complete silence.

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“Look at me when I’m talking to you,” he orders, leaving no room for arguments, and you nod your head quickly at that. “Out loud.”

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“Y-yes,” you hurry to obey, watching satisfaction curl all over his face. “‘M always a good girl.”

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“I don’t think so, munchkin,” Wonwoo grins, wicked and teasing, and you brace yourself for whatever is going to happen this night. “Sometimes you’re so desperate and impatient you can’t even wait for me before fucking yourself with those plastic toys of yours.”

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“Wonwoo,” and you’re unable to look away even when shame burns all over your body. “H-how did you—”

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“How did I know?” your sentence morphs into a moan when Wonwoo presses his thigh so hard against you cunt it has your body jumping a little. “You think I wouldn’t feel how you’re more loose when I fucked you? You think I don’t notice the way you look at me?”

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Wonwoo is mercilessly dragging your hips up and down his leg, your whines sounding high and sweet in your own ears.

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“You’re oblivious even to yourself,” he tells you, tone rough as he ruts against your ass. Your heart lurches in your chest, Wonwoo’s words like a hot coal in the pit of your belly, erupting into flames. You want to squeeze your eyes shut, cunt pulsing with arousal. “Even today, the way you were staring at me…”

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But then, Wonwoo’s touch is gone. His hands leave your hips, thigh frees you from the pressure, and the warmth seems so far now. You turn, complaint already at the tip of your tongue, but Wonwoo’s faster, rougher as he manhandles you on your back and hovers over your body, caging you in with his arms.

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“You looked like a prey who has just been caught into the wolf’s den,” he smiles at you, wicked and cruel as he grabs your jaw and pushes your head back. “Like you wanted me to break you in until it feels like you’re in heaven.”

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There’s a breath against your bare neck, his groan hitting your skin when he bites it.

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“Or eat you up until there’s nothing left in you that doesn’t belong to me,” you’re definitely not expecting the moan that escapes Wonwoo’s mouth, so affected and deep it’s got all the hairs in your nape standing up, every fiber of your body telling you to submit. “Fuck, and it turns me on so much.”

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You make a sound out of neediness, hands reaching for Wonwoo. He goes easily, body pressing into yours as he crashes your lips together. Wonwoo kisses you like he wants to conquer you, licking into the seam of your mouth and teeth scraping at your bottom lip just so he could soothe the pain later with his tongue. Your head spins with the intensity of it, it’s messy and there’s too much spit and teeth, but that only makes it even more addicting.

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But Wonwoo doesn’t kiss you enough today. He almost never does when he’s feeling like that — possessive, mean, wicked even, when he needs you to know your damn place —, wants to ebb the pleasure away when you’re starting to get hotter until it’s replaced by pure desperation and you can’t do anything else other than beg for him to give in to you.

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So that’s what you do, staring up at his eyes trained on you as if you’re a prey.⠀

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“Please,” you start, voice caught into a moan when Wonwoo’s fingers sink into your jaw and his mouth falls ajar, like the sound of you saying this particular word gives a physical stroke to his cock. “P-please, fuck me. Wanna— Wanna belong t-to you.”

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And that’s enough. That’s enough, that’s enough, Wonwoo wants, you want, and he’ll give that to you since he has always been a weak man for your begging. There’s a fraction of seconds that he thinks he might pass out with all the blood rushing from his head to his other head, cock throbbing in his sweatpants.

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“Don’t know how so much eagerness fits into this little body of yours,” Wonwoo murmurs against your mouth, his hand squeezing your face. You find yourself parting your mouth open, whining, pliant and overwhelmed as Wonwoo slips his tongue in again, kissing you filthy. The scent of his familiar cologne is so sharp, surrounding you and leaving your mind dazed until all you can think is Wonwoo, Wonwoo, Wonwoo. When he pulls back this time, Wonwoo pushes his thumb into your mouth, eyes half-lidded as he watches you swirl your tongue around it, sucking it further into your mouth.

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

You moan around it, watching Wonwoo’s every reaction, the way his breath hitches, shoulders tensing. There’s a shift on the bed, Wonwoo moving up and up and up and you can’t breathe because now the bulge pressing against the fabric of his clothes is standing proudly right in front of your face, Wonwoo almost straddling your chest. You let the realization that he’s going to fuck your mouth sink deep within your core, and try not to show how deeply affected you are by the idea.

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

You fail, of course, hips lifting off of the bed and falling down again, biting around the finger inside of your mouth that keeps you from taking a better look in the place you are dying to see.

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

“That desperate to suck me off, baby?” Wonwoo asks, and you flush, hate how you love the humiliated burn, how it makes you wetter. You’re too embarrassed to throw something back at Wonwoo, gaze dropping to his erect cock the best you can. He pushes your head back up, making you look at him instead. “Do you wanna see it?”

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

“I do,” you reply, a little too fast for your own good, and it only serves for Wonwoo to laugh at your neediness. You debate if you’re as red as you think you are, the burn in your cheeks spreading all the way down to your neck.

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

“Are you sure you’re ready for that?” Wonwoo’s tone is almost condescending, still playful, like he doesn’t think you can even handle the sight of his cock, and you like how it makes your cunt twitch and ache. It’s as if you enjoy the belittlement, enjoy the way Wonwoo wants you to prove yourself.

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

“I’m,” you start, swallowing, “I’m ready.”

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

Wonwoo’s smile is a touch dark, nearly a sneer, but his hand leaves your mouth to hook a thumb in the waistband of his pants. You nearly drool. He pulls on the fabric until his cock is free, slapping against your left cheek and smearing precum on your face. Your head spins, realising that even this part of Wonwoo’s body seemed to have grown bigger. Maybe it’s your imagination, haven’t actually seen it in real life for the past three months, but the thickness is intimidating.

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

The best intimidating possible.

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

Your heart thuds in your chest, unable to look away from his cock. There’s spit collecting on your tongue, embarrassment fighting against your desire to please. Leaning forward, you suckle the tip into your mouth, making a pleased sound when you taste the salty tang of precum.

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

Wonwoo leans back a bit, wanting to assess your face better, and the taut lines of his body contorts in an even hotter way with the new position. You moan again, staring at the piercing in Wonwoo’s nipple and the head of the inked snake looking at it, and sucks on the head, tongue pushing along the underside. Your body throbs with your own heated desire.

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

You wrap a hand around the base, gut twisting hotly when you realise you can’t even get your fingers all the way around — no matter how many times you notice this, they all make you feel equally needy. And you’re not the only one affected by it, Wonwoo’s hips kicking forward and cock thrusting inside of your mouth, the growl he lets out going straight to your core.

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

“Fuck,” he says, breath audible enough to echo inside the room. “I will ruin you.”

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

The confession has your body arching for a few seconds, sucking hard on the tip of Wonwoo’s cock until he’s moaning at the feeling. He takes a fistful of your hair, but you push against the hold so you could take more of it into your mouth.

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

“Quit it,” Wonwoo demands, your displeased whine making his hold grow firmer. “Do as you’re told or you might not get my cock at all tonight.”

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

He pulls you off, your pants loud and labored.

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

“Did I make myself clear?”

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

“Yes, sir,” you add just for the teasing — but mostly because you want Wonwoo to punish you for making him lose his beloved control —, feeling pleased as you watch the clear change of expressions going on in Wonwoo’s face. His eyes darken impossibly more, eyebrows frowning and then there’s a hand on your neck.

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

Your mouth goes dry as soon as his fingers close around your throat, body writhing and mind going into submission mode.

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

“Filthy little slut,” Wonwoo snarls, face suddenly close, and then he’s spitting into your open mouth and you feel like you will come very soon. You flinch, eyes shutting on reflex, and then moan. “Want me to punish you, don’t you?”

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

You don’t say anything, can’t say anything, but you hope the look in your eyes answers his question. It probably does, because there’s a tiny little smirk playing on the edge of Wonwoo’s lips before he kisses you, softer than you could ever imagine he would be in this moment.

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

“I love you,” he breathes, the sudden confession making a different kind of burn itch your throat. You know very well that when Wonwoo tells you that I’m the middle of sex then it’s because this will be a passionate fucking. One of those that he keeps your body so close you think you might become one with him, one of those he kisses you so gently one moment only to treat you roughly in the other, one of those he wants to make you fall apart, crumble and cry and even so, it will be full of love and care and sweetness. “I love you so much.”

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

Wonwoo doesn’t wait for your answer. Doesn’t need to, he knows your heart belongs to him.

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

“Say ah for me, sweetheart,” Wonwoo instructs and you obey, mouth hanging open, tongue out. Wonwoo slaps his cock against it, precum dirtying your tongue as the slap slap slap of his cock hitting your mouth fills the heavy air of the room. He even traces the tip over your upper lip, smearing precum along your cheek when he slaps your face with it before placing his cock right back on your waiting tongue. “Put this mouth to better use.”

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

You do, eager to do as you’re told after Wonwoo’s confession, blood singing from his praise and his disparagement alike. You sink down onto it as far as you can take it, nearly gagging when it hits the back of your throat. Wonwoo drowns out a broken “fuck” above you, stroking your cheek and moving further in the bed to lessen the awkward twist of your neck.

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

“You look so good with my cock in your mouth,” Wonwoo breathes, voice strained as you suck him off, head bobbing. He brushes your hair back, little groans and growls escaping him every time his cock hits the back of your throat, you swallowing around it, or when you speed up, fucking your mouth on Wonwoo’s length. “Such a pretty little cocksucker, aren’t you, sweetheart?”

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

You blush, heart hammering in your chest with the compliment, but he closes a fist in your hair and makes you stop all movements.

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

“Gonna fuck your mouth,” Wonwoo starts, holding your wrist with his free hand and putting your fingers above his thigh. You know that it means if you want me to stop, tap twice, and it makes heat coil in your belly. “until you gag.”

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

You moan a bit uncontrollably around his cock, legs kicking in the bed at the affirmation, and Wonwoo is staring at you with a look you can’t quite describe. It makes you ashamed of being so eager but at the same time proud of being his little cockslut.

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

Wonwoo holds you in place, hips bucking into your mouth. He goes slow at first, wanting you to get used with the feeling because it has been a while since the last time you sucked him off. It is short lived, as soon as you look up at him and nod — the best you could with your movements being kind of restricted —, his thrusts turn sharp and fast, your jaw aching from how long you had Wonwoo’s fat cock in your mouth.

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

You moan, one of your hands still working up and down along Wonwoo’s shaft as he fucks into you, tears beginning to prickle at the corners of your eyes. He falls a bit forward when you start gagging a little, throat convulsing around his thickness, and he sprawls his fingers in the wall for support.

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

“Fuck fuck fuck, shit,” Wonwoo breathes, voice gravelly, his grip in your hair getting tighter and tighter. Tingles spark down your spine, wetness pouring out of you and soaking your panties even more and you want so desperately to come, to be fucked, but you want to please him first.

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

Wonwoo’s thrusts begin to turn erratic as he fucks your mouth, a growl erupting out of him on a particularly hard thrust, and then he’s pulling away. You look at him, mind in a haze, but still dumbfounded. His breath is labored and he looks like he’s having a hard time keeping together, hips thrusting into the air. It boosts your ego to see him this messed up because of you.

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

“Did so well for me, sweetheart,” Wonwoo tells you, voice strained from effort but still full of fondness, and you feel butterflies dancing in your stomach at the praise. It seems like he wants his orgasm to ebb away. At the look you’re giving him, he adds: “Wanna cum with you.”

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

You mewl at the thought, watching him position himself between your legs again and kissing you slowly. Wonwoo caresses your cheek with a gentle thumb, other hand tracing a feather-like path down your body. His fingers brush against your nipple, the whine you let out being swallowed by Wonwoo’s greedy mouth, and he sneaks his hand under your shirt just as his kisses fly to your neck.

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

And then Wonwoo’s sucking. Hard.

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

It caughts you off guard, hips lifting off of the bed and thigh pressing tightly against Wonwoo’s cock, his groan being muffled by your skin. He bites, suckles and kisses the particular spot underneath your jaw, so far up your neck you won’t be able to hide it, especially because it’s summer. And you feel warm all over, how he always remembers exactly your pleasure point, the place that has your head spinning with pleasure.

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

Your hands fly to his hair, cunt throbbing with need when he tongues at the purple hickey, and it’s throbbing, pulsating with how hard he sucked. It leaves you breathless, not having time to recover when Wonwoo pulls your shirt up until he can get one nipple into his mouth.

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

“Wonwon, fuck,” you whimper, body oversensitive with all that has been going on, and Wonwoo growls at the nickname, hand coming to pinch your other nipple like he’s telling you how much this affects him. “Please—”

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

Wonwoo bites at it, tongue coming to soothe the pain later, and you’re sure the grip you have on his hair must be painful, but he says nothing; only looks more intent on making you moan. Wonwoo busies himself with sucking hickeys all over the place as one of his hands continues to descend down your body, thumb pressing in a spot by your hips that has your back arching and a desperate whine being pulled out of you.

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

Down and down, his fingers then slips inside your penties, brushing across your clit so lightly that it has your whole body rocking with shivers.

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

But then, Wonwoo’s body goes completely still. You feel him tensing under your palms, heat already flooding your face when you know he feels it, feels the way you’re already stretched open for him.

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

“You—” he starts but stops himself, pushing a finger inside for great measure. Wonwoo growls when he meets almost no resistance, face lifting from where it rests on your chest to look at you. “When?”

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

The intensity of his voice leaves your mouth dry.

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

“E-earlier, in the— in the s-shower,” you confess, voice quiet, and you can’t look away, Wonwoo’s eyes pinning you to your spot.

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

“Hah,” he states simply, a sound of pleasant surprise, and adds another finger inside. Wonwoo pushes them to the hilt, until his knuckles brush your pelvis. You moan, head thrown back at the sudden, but welcomed intrusion. “Acting all nervous around me but this is exactly what you wanted, isn’t it?”

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

He gyrates his hand, pushing hard and without mercy, right before he adds another finger, this time more slowly. It burns a little, his fingers way bigger than yours, but you love the slight pain.

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

“Did you come into my house knowing I would fuck you?” Wonwoo asks, knows the answers but does it anyway. He moves his hand a little, waiting for your to be more comfortable with the sensation of his fingers, but as soon as your frown turns upside down, Wonwoo has no restrains whatsoever, fucking into you fast and sharp. “Fingered yourself knowing that I would split you open on my big cock?”

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

You can’t even think straight, hips rising off of the bed, but Wonwoo holds your waist with his free hand and pins them down hard. Your upper body lifts with this, back arching and legs kicking everywhere as you can’t stop the loud moans slipping through your lips, doesn’t even care about the neighbors as your nails sink into Wonwoo’s back to the point it might leave tiny crescent moons all over it.

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

“Did you come back then?” Wonwoo continues, pace unforgiving even when tears well up into your eyes. He trusts you to use your safeword if needed as much as you trust him to use his. “Did you?”

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

You struggle to answer, voice being surrendered to moans and whines and whimpers and it’s hard to focus when he’s hitting your sweet spot with the tip of his fingers.

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

“Ah! Ah, hmmm, f-fuck, please Won— Wonwon,” you try, can’t even understand how you still manage to get red when you realise Wonwoo is looking at you with so much desire. The point you both most like about your relationship is that Wonwoo is the dom, but he knows you have him in the palm of your tiny hands. “I, ah, d-din’t. Di— Didn’t want to, fuck, please— c-come without you—”

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

Wonwoo pulls his fingers out at that, your cunt clenching around nothing as he goes lighting fast to take both of your clothes off, grab your waist and flip you on your stomach just as he reaches for the nightstand to grab what you know very well it’s a bottle of lube. He pulls your hips up until you’re face down, ass up on the bed, the hurry in all of this only sending desperation all over your body, and the sound of the cap being opened has butterflies in your stomach.

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

“Yeah? Fuck,” Wonwoo sounds a mess, fingers hurrying to close a fist on his cock and jerk it off furiously to spread the lube better, the wet head nudging against your rim. “Fuck, shit, I wanna fuck you so bad.”

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

“Do it,” you beg. “Please.”

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

And who is he to deny what you want?

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

Wonwoo pushes inside you slowly despite his hunger, knows he’s big and there’s an alarming size difference between the both of you.

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

Your hands clench into fists and it feels like you’re being impaled onto Wonwoo’s cock, going deeper than any cock you ever taken before. Tears cling to your lashes as a small jolt of pain runs up your spine, the lube easing Wonwoo’s way in. Overall you’re proud of yourself, haven taken him before, more times than you can count, and you accommodate his cock like a pro.

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

Your chest heaves, no amount of air feels like enough as Wonwoo’s cock all but punches everything out of you. You’re biting at the pillow by the time the last of it pushes into you, a haze surrounding your mind because it feels so good.

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

Wonwoo’s groan transforms into a moan once he’s buried all the way into you, hips flush against your ass and spreading you open so wide and so deep, you would think you might break if you didn’t know any better. You gasp, back arching downward as you take your time to adjust to the large intrusion.

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

Wonwoo kisses your shoulder tenderly, waiting for you to grow used to the feeling. He can be rough when it comes to bed, but he always is mindful of you no matter how impatient and desperate he is. There’s this soft feeling going on inside you, mixing with your pleasure and it only serves to make you more needy.

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

Wonwoo doesn’t move for a while, hot breath falling against your neck as he stands behind you. You feel surrounded — his scent everywhere, the pulse of the hickeys he carved on your skin, the press of his long fingers on your waist —, your submission for Wonwoo’s eyes only.

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

You nod at him.

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

A lick at your neck is all the warning you get before Wonwoo pulls out so very slowly, cock dragging against your walls and rim. It feels like forever, you whining at the sensation, and then you’re being slammed back into.

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

“Ah!” you gasp, eyes blurry as you struggle for air. You moan as Wonwoo drags himself back out again, and thrusts right back in and groans at the feeling. “Y-yes—”

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

“So good,” Wonwoo growls, close to inhumane as he continues with that pace. “So fucking good.”

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

Eventually, Wonwoo doesn’t seem to be able to go slow anymore, thrusts turning sharper and harder, his pace unrelenting. You find yourself almost screaming through it, so overwhelmed by the size of him — a good overwhelmed, the best overwhelmed —, but the way you feel so full and the exponential pleasure leaves you numb to any other thought.

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

Wonwoo, Wonwoo, Wonwoo, your mind seems to chant, fucked open mercilessly by your boyfriend.

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

“Taking cock like a pro, aren’t you, sweetheart?” Wonwoo says, stops for a second, adjusts his hips, and then slams back right into your sweet spot, like he knows where it is by heart. Your body lurches forward, bed slamming against the wall. Hands reaching to hold onto something, you scramble against the sheats until one of them fists it and the other holds the pillow for dear life. “You’re gonna wake the whole hall, screaming like that.”

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

You have enough of a decency to feel ashamed about it, but it’s not like neither of you actually care. If anything, Wonwoo fucks you harder, hips jamming inside you until your throat hurts from all the noises you’re making.

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

“Please, p-please— I wanna— I h-have to— Fuck, ah!” you’re not even sure about what you’re begging for, Wonwoo pulling your hips to meet his thrusts half way. You love this, feeling like a ragdoll, being thrown around and only able to take what he gives to you.

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

“Good little girl,” Wonwoo croons, his voice rough. Your skin glistens with sweat, the shimmering red light reflecting on it. “Looking so beautiful taking my cock.”

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

You’re not sure what compels you after he says that but you reach down, hand smoothing down your abdomen because you feel like Wonwoo is spearing you open. But you go completely tense, squeezing Wonwoo so hard he stutters with a moan, because under your palm there is the outline of his cock protruding against your lower belly. The feeling makes you so overwhelmed that you can’t hold it in, whithe pleasure flooding you as you end up coming, eyes rolling to the back of your head and you’re crying all the way through it.

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

“You’re coming?” Wonwoo deadpans, sounding surprised and angry at the same time. “Holy shit, you’re coming untouched and without my permission? What were you think—”

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

Wonwoo’s complaint immediately dies down when you bring a trembling hand to grab his wrist and put his fingers in the cause of your orgasm. There’s a beat of silence, the both of you completely still, and then Wonwoo is growling the most animalistic growl you ever heard him do, the sheer intensity of it rocking all the way to your bones. He presses his hips so tightly into yours it has you sobbing.

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

“Fuck,” it’s all he says, tone two octaves lower and sounding dangerous, doesn’t even have it in him to punish you. “Fuck.”

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

It’s like the caged beast he keeps so carefully locked deep within himself started to surface. Wonwoo pushes your head down on the mattress, the other hand still on your belly. He pulls out until the tip and then slams back inside, as hard as he can, and you downright scream at the feeling, the oversensitiviness adding up to your pleasure.

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

There’s another few seconds of silence, and then Wonwoo is fucking you brutally. His moans echo through the room, so completely desperate that it has you wailing, sobbing, crying desperate pleas for more.

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

“Look at that,” Wonwoo says, hand pressing harder against the bulge in your stomach. “Pushed my big cock into you until your insides were forced to make room for it.”

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

He grabs your arm and yanks you up, your back pressing against his chest and an arm circling around your waist. The other comes up to squeeze your left breast as you practically sit on his thighs. You moan at the feeling of his pierced nipple dragging against your skin every time he fucks up into you, your body only held in place because of the firm grip Wonwoo has on you.

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

Sobbing, you feel like you’re losing yourself in the sensations, Wonwoo’s cock pounding into your cunt and his voice by your ear and the burn of his hips hitting your ass — by now it must be all red, the marks probably going to linger for some time. You can’t hold yourself together anymore, mouth open and drooling, tears clinging to your lashes, staccato moans falling from your lips that break on every thrust. You’re limp against Wonwoo, can’t even fuck back, letting him have his way with you.

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

“Drooling all over yourself for my cock,” Wonwoo says, fucks in deep against your sweet spot and mouths at the side of your neck. “Because of me, right? Tell me.”

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

“Y-you— yours, yours, please,” your head falls back on his shoulder, hand pressing tightly in the shape of his cock in your stomach, and at this point you don’t even know what you’re doing anymore.

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

“I’ve broken you in, fuck.”

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

And he did, really. He has broken you in, has you crying on his cock.

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

“You belong to who?” Wonwoo pressed his hips flush on your ass, grinds hard enough for your body to be sent forward. A short few seconds so you can take a breath — or at least try to. “Hm? Who’s fucking you this good?”

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

“W-Wonwoo, Wonwon, you, please,” you cry out as he starts to fuck you mercilessly again, the brutal pace punching moans out of you. “Ah, ah, ah, p-please, haaah, I’m y-yours— yours, b-belong to, hmmm, to you only, please!”

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

“Yeah,” Wonwoo echoes, thrusts turning erratic and groans morphing into moans. “Mine.”

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

“I can’t — I’m g-gonna—”

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

“Come for me.”

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

And it’s enough for you. Your muscles tense, toes curling as hot, white pleasure surges through your body and floods you until you fall limp on the bed, hips only up because Wonwoo is holding them tightly. You clench around his cock involuntarily, his groan muffled by your hair and he’s coming, Wonwoo’s cock twitching inside you as thick spurts of come fill you to the brim. They seem to be endless, his spunk filling you up until it’s dripping out and down your thighs.

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

You don’t remember much of what happens later. Your mind spins and then you fall into a most needed slumber.

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

You wake up a bit disoriented, having no idea how much has passed since you fell asleep, but you realise you’re all cleaned up and dressed, head resting in Wonwoo’s — thankfully, for the sake of your precious pussy — clothed chest as he uses his cellphone. He smells clean too, hair still a little bit wet, and you smile thinking that the shower you both took before going to bed was useless.

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

“You’re up?” comes Wonwoo’s question when he feels your lips moving against him, placing his phone somewhere on the bed and circling his arms around you. You move your head, looking up at him with fondness.⠀

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

“Hey, baby,” you breathe out, reaching to peck him in the lips once. He smiles, that kind of smile that leaves you breathless with love.

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

“Hey, my love,” Wonwoo laughs when you blush at the pet name. It’s so sweet and endearing, you always feel warm whenever he says it. “I see you still get all red when I call you that.”

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

“Shut up,” you swat at his arm, Wonwoo’s following laugh sounding like the best music you ever heard. “How much did I sleep?”

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

“Not much,” he presses you tighter against him. “I think one hour? Something like that.”

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

“Thanks for taking care of me,” you say, legs tangling with his and the smile never leaving your lips.

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

“Of course, my love. Always will take care of you,” Wonwoo nuzzles your hair and inhales. “Got kind of surprised that I managed to fuck you into unconsciousness.”

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

“Wonwoo,” you mortify with a laugh, hitting his chest, but he only giggles at you. He giggles. Your heart might explode soon.

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

“What? Can’t I be happy that I pleasured my tiny girlfriend the way she deserves to?” Wonwoo says, and it sounds like a joke, but when you look up at him again to make a retort, the reverence in his eyes surrenders you speechless.⠀

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

He stares at you with so much admiration and love, like you’re the most beautiful thing ever.

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

“I love you,” you say instead, cheeks hurting from the way you’re smiling, and Wonwoo seems to be caught off guard because he’s blushing. Wonwoo’s blushing. He’s so cute you want to die.

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

“Shut up and go back to sleep,” he coughs, pushing your head against his chest and you laugh at this shyness. “I love you too.”

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

Yes. The warmness of his hands, the beat of his heart, the rise and fall of his chest, the love in his eyes, the sweetness of his words — you missed everything about Jeon Wonwoo.

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀  ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

[ashdumpsterpile]

what are ur thoughts on edmund pevensie

aah I'm so glad someone asked!! thank uuu <3

My thoughts on Edmund Pevensie? Mr. redemption arc boy? My sassy bean? Sulky little shit boy? Oh my god where do I start.

(putting under the cut because this gets unnecessarily long and my mutuals are tired of me)

Edmund Pevensie is a horrible little gremlin who turns into a delightful little gremlin over the course of one book/movie and ends up being one of the best characters in the series. I don't know whether to rant about book!Edmund or Movie!Edmund, but I supposed I could do both?

So pre-redemption, Edmund is a generally awful person. I really like that. Whenever we get a redemption arc in modern media, it's usually 70% defending why Character A is actually a sad emo child who was neglected and actually you know what? It's everyone else's fault that this person does shitty things (i.e. k*lo ren, vanya hargreeves, mcu wanda, etc).

Edmund is a truly hateful person and canon DOES NOT APOLOGIZE OR VALIDATE IT. Even in the movies (where they make him more sympathetic by drawing attention to the fact that Edmund is a child being manipulated by an abuser) they recognize the fact that he was a nasty person before the White Witch ever came into play.

I LOVE that. I love a redemption arc. And the only way a redemption arc really, truly works is when the character being redeemed is a Bad Person. It makes it so, so much more satisfying when the character finally comes to their senses and Does The Thing that starts/completes their arc.

AND EDMUND'S IS TOP TIER. In the books, it's a bit less explicit, but by the time he finally reaches Aslan's camp and talks to Aslan, he's pretty much made a full 180. He is immediately forgiven by his siblings and the Narnians and when the White Witch turns up, he is unafraid. He has full confidence that Aslan knows what he's doing. In the Battle of Beruna, he's the only person smart enough to realize that going after the White Witch's wand is the best tactical move. There is no clear "heroes redeemed journey" (as i'm calling it). Edmund realizes that he was wrong, accepts Aslan, and helps defeat the White Witch.

The movie makes Edmund work a bit more. He's forgiven by his sisters', but not quite by his brother. It's vague whether or not the rest of Narnia has forgiven him. When the White Witch arrives, he shows visible fear. It's only after he breaks the White Witch's wand and dies/nearly dies doing so, that he's allowed to be fully redeemed and forgiven by his brother.

I have conflicting feelings about how both of these narratives are different and the indicators thereof of said differences, but that's a whole other meta post I don't have room for. What I can definitely say I do love about Movie!Edmund's redemption arc is how they conclude it. In the book, you don't actually see the moment where Edmund breaks the White Witch's wand and it's more inferred than directly stated that she's the one who wounded him. He also doesn't come as close to actual death in the books.

In the movie everything is absolutely fucking perfect. They start out the battle with Edmund looking unsure of anything except Peter and they end it with Edmund dying (?) in front of him. The moment where Edmund decides to defy Peter one last time and break the wand? 14 year old me was losing her SHIT. They literally could not have concluded his arc better. 10/10 Disney.

Prince Caspian--books and films--gives us a clearer picture of who Edmund is after his redemption arc. He's still kind of snarky, but 100% a ride or die for his siblings. He believes Lucy when she says she sees Aslan, supports Peter and Caspian in their quest to get Caspian on the throne, and is the most level-headed character in the book. He is also incredibly sulky in the books and 1000% done with Trumpkin's shit. It's delightful. They translate this in movieverse for him being 1000% done with Peter's shit which is even better. He does not really have an arc or plotline, but as a supportive character he's a 10/10.

The Voyage of the Dawn Treader has my favorite Edmund. This is an Edmund without his older siblings. This is an Edmund who gets to bond with Lucy, Caspian, and Eustace and have wacky sea adventures. The Lucy/Edmund dynamic is STRONG and I am living for it. Both of them banding together to hate Eustace for half the book? 11/10. Both of them banding together to love Eustace for the other half of the book? 14/10.

Also, this is the book where we find out Edmund reads detective novels. Which is adorable and so in character for him.

Oh my god let's talk about Eustace and Edmund. After Eustace tells Edmund about what happened with him and Aslan and apologizes for being a dick? Edmund is immediately there to reassure him that all is forgiven, and actually? Edmund was a worse person his first visit to Narnia. (Pls get some self esteem Edmund.) Let's talk about Eustace and Edmund being protective over Lucy (who doesn't really appreciate it, but it's adorable just the same).

Movie!Edmund in this story is also a snarky delight, but the main thing that jumps out to me is HE AND CASPIAN ARE SO GAY FOR EACH OTHER HOLY SHIT. LIKE THEY TRIED TO PUSH LUCY/CASPIAN FOR A HOT SECOND AND THEN GAVE UP BECAUSE CASSMUND IS LIVING THEIR BEST GAY PIRATE LIFE.

Oh we should probably talk about Edmund in the Horse and His Boy. Yeah, this one is a real delight because we actually get to see grown up Edmund. There are so really awesome moments here, especially with him and Susan. My favorite is where he basically tells her, "yeah if you married that dick prince I would have totally hated you for it. thanks for making a good choice on that." Lmao. It's really interesting to see him more measured and mature in this book.

So anyway, to cut this rambling reply short. Edmund Pevensie has been my favorite character since I was 11 and first read the Narnia books and he continues to be in each adaption of the series. Can't wait for the Netflix adaption.

(ask me about book vs. movie meta, cassmund analysis, the problem of susan, or anything else narnia related for more ramblings <3)

[oristromboli]

If You Be Our Star, We’ll Be Your Sky | 2

Chapter 2: Shine Like Stolen Gold

Stories aren't meant to be lost and forgotten.

When a timid bird comes knocking at his den, the dragon seizes the rare opportunity presented.

(Smut this chapter: Zhongli/Reader)

So, really, come on. When Aether is cooking some minty meat rolls or sticky honey roast, is it so hard to believe that he thaws their frozen meat to make up for when they lack the ingredients otherwise? Paimon really can’t complain, her mouth waters at the thought of it and a childish smile creeps on her face as her eyes glaze over.

Behind her, Aether is throwing his face in his hands in mortification at the realization that they ran out of chilled meat for goulash. Paimon vaguely registers your voice laugh-crying at Aether that now, they must go fight some unreasonably angry grandpa boars for their next meal.

Yep, the fairy rubs her belly completely content. The sticky honey roast was totally worth it.

She yelps when Aether grabs her ankle to pull her down to their level of reality. “Alright Paimon, think you can handle the cold without that goulash? We ran out of Frostshield Potion a while ago too, which reminds me, can you ask Lisa if she can make more?” Aether turns to you, and you take out your journal to note the next task with a little side note, circled twice: ‘Check all inventories before walking into deadly weather. Obviously.’

Paimon nods, though she puts on a big show of rubbing her arms with a cheeky grin. “Paimon will be okay! The sooner we get off this mountain though, the better.” Nobody disagrees with her, but some hours into climbing the mountain and Paimon is grumbling once again. This time though, it’s not about the cold, oh no.

Aether gave her the golden Seelie to hold and act as a firefly while she scouts for the next torch.

You would laugh harder, really, you would, but every breath you take in this frozen wasteland seems to burn your lungs even more. The sensation reminds you of how Venti once spoke sparkly-eyed about a Snezhnayan drink called Fire-Water that ignites the body while freezing their breath. If not for your collective appearances seeming to be ruefully young for this world, you’re certain that Aether and Venti would have somehow convinced Diluc at this point to import the drink just for them.

Though, come to think of it, you’re not entirely sure if you want to see the havoc that would indubitably follow the drunken duo. After all, you already remember how Aether was shy of throwing a dumpling at Zhongli when he enthusiastically ordered wine-soaked rice balls instead, and that was when Aether was sober.

Your commission involves collecting some of the old books left behind in the libraries littered throughout Dragonspine for the researchers at the base of the mountain. While normally not a difficult task, the blizzard appears to be picking up just to spite you three. If only there was… Aha! “Aether! Paimon!” The two turn at your calls and frantic waving, pointing to the cave just to your right. All three of you missed this hidden entrance – that’s it, time to go inside and wait out the weather. If none of you caught this, then most definitely the visual conditions were progressing from bad to fucked. Stars, you can’t even think beyond trying to get warm.

While Aether kneels to light a cooking fire, you shuffle forward and take stock of your surroundings. All in all, the walls certainly saw better days, but there is no shortage of old books to rifle through for information. Paimon is a step ahead of you though as she floats (wobbles) towards you, carrying two books that are double her size at least. Through your combined efforts, you manage to find a decent number of books to ferry back for the researchers while Aether finishes cooking some jewelry soup.

Gods, the speed Paimon dive bombs for her bowl rivals the hawks over the Liyuen mountains. Magpies are cute and dive too, right? Maybe Paimon is part magpie, with her big eyes and penchant for swooping the unfortunate souls who wander too close to her food.

You shake the thoughts out as you consume your own dish. The silence among you three is not unwelcoming, though you can tell Paimon is itching to say something. Bracing yourself, you take in a deep breath and –

“Do you and Aether ever visit old worlds again?”

Choke on your food. You choke on your food, all elegance and style gone as Aether is clearly not expecting such a question either. Paimon huffs, though she looks more concerned about the wasted food Aether spat out rather than Aether himself.

“We, uh…” Aether coughs, hitting his chest a bit before going silent. There is a shift in the atmosphere, even the embers in the fire long ago dying to merely whispers of warmth. Golden eyes mellow as Aether looks hazy, distant all of a sudden. “We don’t go back usually, no. Why do you ask?”

Paimon scratches her head. “Well, Paimon noticed that every time we come here, there seems to be more to the story of an old kingdom here. The paintings and the books… It’s like they wanted to be remembered, but they weren’t.”

You close your eyes, ears straining as Aether attempts to formulate a proper response. “It’s… We,” he gestures between you two, “We don’t belong to any world. We never did.”

The wind picks up, nearly deafening. What a confession, the wind whispers. What a blessing of freedom.

What a burden.

“You remember how I told you that we were travelers? Well, our people are tasked with, ah, watching those we encounter. We try to learn all of the stories and knowledge of our charges; to our people, that is worth more than all the golden Mora in Teyvat.”

“Oh! Oh! Is that why you’re so glowy and yellow?”

Aether laughs, shoulders relaxing a bit. “Yeah, I just took all the wealth of our old worlds and made it a part of my outfit. That way I’ll always be rich.”

“Ehhh? But why waste treasure like that?”

“Because I’m the real treasured cutie here,” he deadpans, proudly puffing out his chest, only to duck when you and Paimon immediately throw your spoons at him. The atmosphere is lighter now, happier.

You don’t hear the wind anymore, just Paimon and Aether. Only them, always them.

“Anyway… That’s the great paradox of our duty, though. We learn best by walking among them, but never with them. But we try not to visit the same place twice. Stories, once ended, always make way for another chapter. Each new world we walk into, we carry with us the knowledge of all worlds past and try to understand why people act the way they do. We were never mortal, so it’s…” He trails off, unable to complete that sentence.

“Paimon doesn’t get it though. Why do your people watch, if they never actually participate? Isn’t that the whole point of reading a book versus building a library?”

Aether stops, stunned into silence. You close your eyes tightly. Sometimes, Paimon’s naiveté can really hit the mark on all things wrong in a system.

When you were born into the universe, you were simply given one duty: to watch and record. The blinding brilliance a new star is meant to guide, acting as the light in the night sky. However, the only answer your elders gave was that it was the will of the primordial force guiding you all. Your family promised you then that you would find more explanations in the mortal realms, for no star is truly alone.

These answers still elude you, though, as they do Aether. How long have you been lost like this?

Did you stop counting your age because of your immortality, or because you refused to face another year no closer to the truth?

Nobody remembers who came before. Nobody talks of the distant, quiet stars above your own people, separate from their arrogant claims.

“There is a saying from one world we traveled to,” you begin carefully, “that says ‘you can never go home.’ It means that when you leave a place, you can never come back to the memories you made there. Nothing will be the same, because you will have changed in your journey.”

Paimon floats gently down between you and Aether. It is then you notice she still cradles the Seelie, her wide eyes reflecting the golden light that pulses. She kindly reaches for Aether’s hand and gives him back their newest companion before softly smiling. “Not all journeys are bad ones though, right?”

“Paimon,” Aether breathes, “I – “

“Like our next journey to get the heck outta here! Paimon’s hungry.”

“And there it is,” you laugh. Standing up, you offer your hand to Aether as you pull out the map. He leans forward before tapping a point near the camp full of adventurers. Paimon squints and nods, then disappears in a show of light. It’s beautiful, you admit to yourself. All the light, the warp of space-time, the blessed departure of squeaky Paimon. Really brings a tear to your eye sometimes.

“Hey,” Aether says, grabbing your arm. “Are you okay?”

You raise your eyebrow at him. “You’re the one who answered her question. Are you?”

He laughs and looks away. “Yeah, I am. Just shocked that Paimon used up her daily brain power allowance in one go.”

 ---

 Later, when you three stop by Wangshu Inn, Aether strides to the edge of a balcony from one of the many layers and can’t help his wandering thoughts to Paimon. He never cared much for deeper probing and purposes to his journey, he left that to you and Lumine. Adventure and fun always drew him instead, the promise of being chainless. He saw the ability to travel between worlds as a blessing, one where he can be untethered to nearly everything. No, he’s sure his sudden obsession with Paimon’s question is just because he didn’t expect Paimon to be so insightful. That’s it, it has to be.

He thinks of Lumine, of how she would have thoroughly enjoyed this view.

She is always the one reaching out to the locals, to guide and let them follow her back to the path of righteousness – or whatever was deemed lawful during that time, at least. Different worlds, different definitions. At least here, he tries to do what’s right by the people and helping with their (endless) errands. That’s what Lumine would have wanted. What does he want, though?

Well, for starters, he wants to find his sister, his other half, his twin star. Aether smiles to himself as he counts off all the nicknames he has for his little sister, how he plans on releasing Paimon on Lumine to see what the little fairy’s new nickname for her would be. A frown graces his lips though as he follows that thought, of names and designation and purpose.

It’s no secret that the Vigilant Yaksha established here his… home? Home, Aether decides, if only to avoid the sadder options. He remembers Xiao’s long conversation with him beneath the floating lanterns, of how Rex Lapis gifted him his name to give him renewed meaning and life. To protect those he once consumed.

Aether hopes that the adeptus can find that peace one day; as someone who travels worlds, who has seen that darkness between the stars, he knows the shadows are no welcoming place. Still, his heart warms when he remembers Xiao’s tireless watch, knowing that the spirit will come to his aid should Aether ever call his name. He never had someone do that for him, if he was being honest, that level of attentive care. It was always his people helping others.

It’s nice, he thinks. Real nice.

That’s why he resolved long ago to offer the same protection to the adeptus, much to the latter’s scorn, but Aether really didn’t care to listen to his grumbling, he was going to help, damn it. Aether thinks back to Venti, to the bard’s soulful flute and insistence on freedom from chains.

When he goes back inside, he muses, he’ll ask you to write a new quest: ‘Introduce Xiao to Venti.’ Somehow, someway, he plans on helping Xiao out of that darkness that Lumine fell into. Maybe this is his own redemption. Penance for lifetimes of no responsibilities, no cares, no duty to uphold for a singular cause. Look at where it got him now. He’s lost without Lumine as a tether.

He’s not going to give up on Xiao, damn all the others that did. Xiao never gave up on Liyue, so why should Aether?

The blonde turns when he hears your approaching steps and smiles. You return it, bringing him a bowl of sweet almond tofu. Not your own cooking – Aether would have heard the commotion first – but he’s grateful, nonetheless.

“There’s some jerk bullying a kid!” Both of your ears piqued at that, but you don’t bother trying to contain the fit of giggles at the ridiculous statement. You’re sure that someone would have dealt with the jerk by now, anyway.

“Who bullies a kid anyway? It’s like kicking puppies,” you mumble around the food in your mouth. Come on now, that’s a new low, even for Hilichurls.

Aether looks down and spies Paimon with two bowls of sweet almond tofu, full speed ahead like the devil himself is on her heels. Only, when he discovers the figure behind her, the flash of green and smoke and a spear trying to turn Paimon into a kebab, he nearly chokes again on his food.

Hey. Hey, wait, that’s –

“Shit,” he grumbles, “that’s my idiot.”

 ---

 The sun is kissing the horizon by the time you three make it back to Liyue Harbor. Your daily commissions complete and with enough Mora for the week, you nearly make it back to your inn before you catch the unmistakable lilt of a deep voice in the air. Zhongli?

Aether and Paimon catch on, and after a second, make their way to the source of the sound. The former Archon spots you three and his eyes crinkle before he stands. “Oh? I didn’t think I would see you here.”

Be still, beating heart, and thank the stars for the fading light casting everyone with a soft glow to hide your flush. You close your eyes, listening to Aether and the archaeologists ramble about Lord of Geo this, God of Wealth and Commerce that, something about the catalytic power of Mora.

When you open your eyes, you find Zhongli’s own on you instead. Huh?

Aether kicks your foot lightly and you turn to him, blinking again. “Hey, saddle up. We’re going on another adventure.” You deflate slightly; to be honest, you were hoping for a chance to rest and reflect on the conversation with Paimon. Stars, you can’t handle more of this right now, not in this… state. Mentally you’re flailing, trying to keep thoughts buried while you open your journal to mark the next task, because with thinking came emotion and with emotion came trying to understand why Paimon’s question stung you. You always believed these idle thoughts to be private questions, private sins about your loneliness in your duty. How far from the path have you two strayed for even an outlander to notice?

Still, you bite your trembling lip and nod. Back to work like always.

 ---

 You grab Zhongli’s hand as he hoists you up the cliff, your own arms quick to turn to jello. In front of you, you can hear the Fatui agent and archaeologist bickering over something, but you’re frankly too tired to care. Aether’s voice cuts through, trying to make peace. Or, really, trying not to pummel them both, but who cares about nuances? You say tomato and Aether says ‘gimme a sword.’

As you sigh and stretch your back, Zhongli smiles at you before observing the ocean once more.

Your throat is parched, but that’s not the first thing you think of. “I miss him,” you say, “Tartaglia.”

He nods. “I do as well. Are we selfish in desiring his company over his duty?”

You hum. “Well, it’s only natural to want to see your friend again, right?”

Zhongli blinks. “Indeed. Friend.”

Curious. The old god wanted Tartaglia to stay, to study him, thrilled in discovering a mortal so foolish for the first time in many millennia to challenge the Lord of Geo. A selfish want, yes, but present nonetheless.

He thinks he hears Guizhong. “Morax,” she chides, “you cannot hoard people.”

Did you want Tartaglia to stay for something else? He was certain you understood his own desire for the man with your gift mirroring his symbolic chopsticks, even if the Harbinger did not. Is Zhongli’s courting too old-fashioned?

“Ye-ap,” you smile. “He was a good partner-in-crime.”

Not for the first time, Zhongli thinks that perhaps, something is lost in translation.

“Indeed.”

 ---

 Forget Dragonspine. Things have somehow gone from fucked to holy stars keep it together don’t cry don’t cry –

“Your legacy? Your legacy,” you begin, voice shaky. Zhongli turns to stare at you, like… Like… “No. No, you do not get to look at me like that, like you’re Morax. Morax wouldn’t do this.”

Aether and Paimon whip their heads to look at you then. You stop and turn upwards, eyes searching, and take a deep breath to calm your nerves.

Clouds cover the night sky. Cowards.

“We are tasked with remembering, yes. You know this. But don’t you dare imply your legacy was for naught.”

Zhongli’s lips tighten. A single tear falls when you look back at him.

“Mora transforms, yes? Maybe then,” you start and begin waving your arm around, gesturing to the ocean before you all. “Maybe this is a transformation. No god that passes is ever truly gone in Teyvat, so don’t you dare say that something so sacred has departed Liyue. She lives on in her ideals, her beliefs.”

The old god turns to look at the ocean. He thinks back to Ningguang and Guizhong. “Like a cycle? Is this what you have learned on your travels?”

You nod. “Morax knew there was power in mortals, there was potential. As the God of Wealth, does it not logically follow that he would understand that mankind is divinity transmuted? When these men come and go, their souls return to the divine. Nothing is ever truly gone.”

He scoffs at that, but nothing infuriating. It sounds more disbelieving. Still, he turns to you, though you don’t see it. “Rain that rejoins the river into the great ocean is no different than the clouds that made it.” His heart aches. Why does his heart ache? “Perhaps, when the clouds form once more, we shall see the revival and birth of gods anew.”

When you look at him, Zhongli is already gazing back out at the see, a distant memory washing across his eyes. You know of his connection to Guizhong, know of his pride to discover that her tablets still stand strong when you and Aether stumbled across them.

Suddenly, your heart falls in your stomach and you feel sick. “Come on,” you mumble to the other two present. They nod and you open the map, once again deciding that tonight is just too much.

Zhongli stares long and hard at the spot you three stood in, then turns to the stars above as they emerge from cover. The ring in his hand is gently twisted, around and around. He thinks of Aether, of Paimon, of you. Of how, no matter how close to the heavens a mountain dares to try and touch, it can only wait for the light to warm its barren earth and the rain to form once more.

The stars only twinkle back.

 ---

 All right, well, the plan to stay in your inn and once again contemplate Teyvat’s frankly depressing history just went out the window. Literally.

You jump from the bedroom and open your glider to land in a hidden corner to not attract too much attention. Moments like this, Mondstadt is perfect for you; the drunkards leaving the tavern at this hour would just look at you glide by and raise their mugs in understanding. Life is like that sometimes.

Aether and Paimon long ago fell asleep, you made sure of that. It’s annoying that your exhaustion is now to the point where you can’t even fall asleep, thoughts dance just out of your reach, and even the ocean breeze as you shuffle close to the docks no longer tickles your senses.

When you hear your name called, you stop and turn around to find Zhongli ten paces behind you. Ah  shit, here we go again.

“I was hoping, though not expecting, to find you out. You appeared distraught when you left, so I went to Bubu Pharmacy to retrieve some medicine.” As he walks closer, you stand up straight and look at the bag in hand. He holds it out to you and you smile at his amber eyes, pupils in slits as he presents his gift to you with all the grandeur of a cat dragging a mouse to its master.

However, when you open the bag, you stop and look back at him. “Chamomile,” you say, voice flat.

“Yes.”

“You got me tea.”

“Yes. Is something the matter?”

You sigh and rub your eyes. “You could have gotten this at a regular herb shop and not been robbed blind.” He winces as realization dawns on him, nodding along, but then.

Then you start giggling.

It’s stupid, it’s so stupid and your mind is tired beyond reason and here you are laughing at the God of Wealth spending his money for you and got robbed for it. You cover your mouth, but you feel your wrist gently pried from your mouth and you gasp as Zhongli examines at you inquisitively. He smiles too. “Would you care for me to brew this tonight?”

You nod and babble what you hope to be a thank you, incapable beyond reason of any coherent thought, save for one. Food. Flipping him around, you instead take him towards the nearest food stands still open at this hour – at least feeding drunkards is universal – and lead him to the most appetizing.

It doesn’t escape you that his hand glides down your wrist to grasp your fingers gently.

 ---

 Some hours passed and you both settled long ago in front of Wanmin Restaurant for a gamble of Xiangling’s choice of mystery dish. When you first discovered this new weekly option, the three of you had widely ranging reactions: you politely tried to hide your shudder, Aether more openly grimaced, and Paimon was dragging you both by the collars as you desperately dug your heels in.

Conversation flows easy between you two, and you click your chopsticks at Zhongli as you take another bite from a perfectly cooked chunk of meat. “I think you would benefit from some hobbies other than work, you know.”

He arches an eyebrow and puts down his cup of baijiu. “I am attempting to integrate a mortal life. Is it not logical to work within Liyue as one?”

“Well, yes, but actually no,” you drawl and smile behind your cup at Zhongli’s expression. “You should do other things, too! Enjoy life, take long walks, play some xiangqi, meditate – “

“Dear Celestia,” he sighs and pinches the bridge of his nose. “I am not some grandfather you need to care for. I am old, not dying.” Vaguely, you register a quiet grumble and a why do I even bother.

“What was that, hmm?” You raise your hands to cup your ears, hoping to draw out more of his frustration. Instead, Zhongli’s lips curve up at you with a combined expression of haughtiness and mirth.

“Apparently, I am not the one who requires hearing aids.”

“Touché.” You swipe the bottle of baijiu and pour a small shot for yourself. “D’ya remember in the immediate aftermath of it all, Childe kept bowing and calling you zu fu? I personally think he was on to something.”

The ancient god only grouses as he pours himself another drink. “My temptation to indulge his battle lust then has never been so appetizing. The argumentative fool.”

You shrug. “He was looking to get a reaction out of you. It worked, didn’t it? The great Rex Lapis irritated by an incessant fly! Oh, the scandal that would cause, the humiliation.” Dramatically, you throw your hand over your forehead and lean back, the spitting image of a damsel-in-distress in one of Lady Ying’er’s lustier novels.

Zhongli smirks then and laughs low, a purr more than anything, before gathering his empty dishes to leave a bag of Mora in the center of the table. You’re proud, you really are, though you bite your tongue from any more comments on the old god remembering his money for once.

It’s a while before you both speak again, a silent agreement between the two of you to finish your bottle before moving on. He is the first to break, though you don’t expect the next words. “When I took the seat of Geo Archon offered by Celestia, I never thought this day would come.”

Tilting your head, you scoot a bit closer. He glances at you, posture pristine and relaxed, though you feel rather than see the tension in his taut body. “Why?”

“Because,” he begins, pursing his lips as he thinks. “I am – we are – immortal. Therefore, I suppose I simply did not see an end to my duty.”

“How sad,” you murmur. His eyes dim, so you put your hand on his shoulder to ground him before he sinks further into his memories. “Duties should only be taken when you see a future for it, rather than a lack of an ending. When the day came, I am glad you recognized the need to put down the mantle.”

Zhongli’s eyes burn into you, and realization dawns on you as you think of the potential reason for his intensity. Is it because of - ?

“I’m really sorry for my behavior at Wangsheng, really, I am. You were burdened with a seemingly never-ending duty, it wasn’t fair for my anger to cloud my judgment.” You try to look away, but Zhongli’s hand placed over yours keeps you still.

“Your frustration was reasonable.” He pauses for a second. What was that look in his eye? “You observe those around you just as I once did, though I have stepped into the story. Are you and Aether able to put down your duties as well?”

You quickly withdraw your hand and look away, biting the inside of your cheek. Not him too. “I don’t know,” you breathe. If Zhongli wasn’t so close, he wouldn’t have heard you. He takes a deep breath before offering his hand. Taking it, you both stand, and he releases you as he begins walking away from the restaurant.

“I believe we still have some tea to brew, yes?” You grin at his question, warmth settling in your stomach. Tea. That sounds nice.

As you travel with him, the silence stretching once again, you can’t help but think of Zhongli’s eyes once more. Bah, damn your crush, he only looked at you as a god would a pleading mortal, he’s beyond your realm of comprehension and –

You try to stamp the disappointment before that thought keeps going further. Exhaustion begins to creep in your bones, you’re certain the late night is the cause for your distress, but that doesn’t stop your cynicism.

How could a god understand the burden of stories, of keeping records tirelessly? He’s the God of Contracts, but your contract doesn’t end.

Damn the pity in his eyes.

 ---

 (It wasn’t pity, something whispers. Compassion. Tenderness. Wrath.

All things must be fair, Zhongli thinks. Your contract never was.)

 ---

 By the time you’re in his apartment and sitting at his table, you’re sure you’ve spent the better part of ten minutes gaping like a fish at the luxury of it all. Each item’s quality is beyond description, truly, but you still fumble about in your mind trying to find the words anyway. Rich? Decadent? Unnecessary but very nice? Paper lamps are littered around you, both hanging in the air and on side tables, and you can’t help but notice the soft, hazy golden glow the light casts over the room. Somehow, you’re sure you smell incense burning somewhere…

The colors are earthy in tone, but what surprises you is the abundance of plants – mostly silk flowers and glaze lilies - along the windows and corners carefully placed, following the patterns of feng shui. Stone walls curve around, and the plants appear to rest in the embrace of the circular patterns carved within, perfectly matching the decorations. As the hand-carved furniture, laced with golden accents and filigree, weave into the background, you can’t help but appreciate the apartment’s forest-like ambiance. His den is warm, welcoming, and soft, a far cry from the image of a Geo Archon. All that’s missing is some art and –

There it is. That tapestry Childe bought the day you received your own token.

Before you can stop it, the quiet voice in your mind croons at the memory of him.

You’re only snapped out of your thoughts when Zhongli returns with a tea set and places one cup before you to carefully pour before joining your side. He blows the tea before sipping it, all the serenity afforded to an ancient god.

You pause, smile lost now. “I’m sorry.”

Amber eyes open and scrutinize you. “For what? You have already apologized before for nothing, starlight.”

Rolling your head side to side, you lower your gaze and find solace instead at the steam rising from the tea. There goes that damn nickname again. “For disrespecting your wishes. Your legacy is important to me, but what’s important to you is that you… You…”

It doesn’t have to be said. Zhongli pauses and puts his own teacup down. “You and Aether once informed me of your people’s duties in recording stories. My hope is that my time as Zhongli marks the end of Liyue’s need of me, to close that chapter in Morax’s story.” You frown at that.

“As Zhongli?”

“Yes,” he breathes, smile small but distant, “you were right on the cliff. Morax would not have made the decision Zhongli did. I am no longer that god.”

You reach over and grab his hand, his eyes meeting yours again. “If you are no longer him, then why is Zhongli the end of Morax’s story and not the beginning of his own?” He only makes a soft rumble in response, and not for the first time do you marvel at how lost he appears. “Your journey as Zhongli is not another contract. You shouldn’t start this journey the same way you started your duties as the Geo Archon.”

“Oh?”

Suddenly, Paimon’s question rings clear in your head. “As immortals, we naturally process things slower, we have more time to. Time is given to us to see the future and learn, not to dwell on the past. Otherwise, we waste this gift,” you murmur. Gods help you; you think this next statement is going to kill you but it needs to be said. “I’m sorry about all those you’ve lost.”

Great, just great, way to bring up his old friends. Still, you felt the need to blurt it out, if only so someone could say it to him once. Just once.

Zhongli’s hand turns so that his palm faces yours and his fingers entwine in your own. It’s a long time before he speaks, and if it wasn’t for his gentle grasp, you were sure that the former Archon was furious.

He must be using his elemental powers, he has to be. Why else are you petrified?

His eyes move, looking through your hands. Beyond, beyond. What does he see?

“They would have wanted me to move forward. I honor their memory through remembrance, and hopefully now, movement. All things must return to dust, though I do not rush the journey,” he eventually replies. Only, you look closer, and his eyebrows are barely furrowed, the only sign on his otherwise perfectly composed face of the emotion lurking underneath. “I do not know how she saw fit to be my mentor, to guide such a bloody god out of the battlefield. She saw a nurturer, where I saw only the destruction my hands have wrought eons ago.”

You don’t have to ask to know who he refers to.

It’s stupid, it’s bold, it’s desperate, but you’ve already gone this far, haven’t you? You bite your lip and ask gently, selfishly, “May I remove your gloves?”

He looks to you and nods, relaxing his grip and not bothering to hide the confusion carved all over his face. As you slowly peel off his gloves, you see his dark hands lined with geometric patterns glow dimly, the shade matching his own amber eyes. Fuck, he’s so beautiful, the statues and paintings of him do him no justice; the muscles along his arm flex in reaction when you begin to trace his fingers, inch-by-inch, from the tips to the palm. Reverence fills your eyes as you suddenly understand why so many mortals threw themselves to the floor beneath him in worship.

These are just his hands, though. Should you ever be blessed to see him fully, by the stars, you think you would die and ascend to Celestia right there.

You feel his steady gaze on you, but you don’t care. Home stretch, here we go, how much further can you test these boundaries?

“Do you ever wish you could have changed the outcome?”

He scoffs. “Wish? A god does not wish. What Celestia commands, we obey. Seven seats there were, and so the fighting began until seven victors remained.”

“Sure, but I mean, that’s in the past now. A name both defines a purpose and limits it.” A sentiment both you and Aether share, for those who traveled countless worlds surely held countless names. Zhongli fondly remembers his first encounter with Alatus, but he frowns, nonetheless.

“I will forever carry the scars as the former Geo Archon. I may leave Morax behind, but I can never forget that I am still him, buried beneath this visage and burdened with the weight of that knowledge.” He clenches his hand again, but you spread them out and begin slowly tracing the golden lines along his palm and forearm.

“Hm,” you hum, “that’s odd.”

“What do you see?” Zhongli says, voice pitched an octave lower than before. Subtly, you feel your core heat and you rub your thighs together, though not enough to draw attention.

“Your hands… I don’t see any blood, just these flowers you’ve cultivated,” you beam, eyes flicking to the silk flowers and glaze lilies permeating the room. Maybe it’s the scent, or the lingering baijiu in your system, or the fact that Zhongli’s eyes are on you, but you feel drunk and bold and stupid so you bring his hand up to your face to snuggle. The anxiety in your stomach melts when you feel his rough hands against your cheek. “Warm too. They’re no different than a man’s. Than Zhongli’s.”

When his lips part, your eyes follow the movement and he stares at you for a long time. Those eyes flicker between yours, fully present and watching you now as they pierce your own.

Are you leaning in, or is he? Fuck it. “Kiss me,” you rasp, pleading and hopeful.

You groan when he moves forward and finishes that thought, deftly moving his other hand to your hip to rub small circles with his thumb. How are his lips so soft? All you can feel is his movements against yours, though you register him eventually breaking apart. His pants mingle with yours, and gods if he doesn’t come back you’re going to throw a bitch fit.

“Was that alright?” he murmurs. Ever the gentleman, you bemoan. Instead, you opt to whine lightly as you drag your unoccupied hand up his chest, cooing at his own gasps as you creep farther up.

“Yes, please,” you whisper, “Please, again, let me –“ You reach over and begin unbuttoning his shirt. Zhongli leans back slightly to allow you more access – though the cheeky god turns his head and peppers your forehead with kisses along the way -  and you move both hands to wrangle off his garments. After a few minutes of fumbling, you manage to bare his upper chest, but you pause in appreciation.

Oh, oh stars, you thought you were going crazy for his hands. Truly, you feel like a debauched Sister to Barbatos when you took all of Zhongli in; his hair tussled, lips mumbling something, and his eyes – fuck they are following your every motion. It’s almost predatory. You register somewhere that he’s still rumbling something, but you raise your eyebrows and dig your hands into his chest again, twisting the silken fabric. “I d-don’t, I don’t speak Liyuean, what was that?”

He laughs, solid and rich and you’re in deep. Zhongli takes one of your hands to kiss the palm, then the wrist. His eyes flutter open and look at you again, all mischief and pride still lacing his perfectly composed features.

It’s not fair, you think. Some stupid divine gift of being perfect all the time.

“I spoke Common, dear,” he replies and slowly kisses up your arm before moving to your shoulder. You tense as he leans forward, all but nuzzling your cheek as he whispers, “I asked if you would prefer to take this to the bedroom?” He says something else after, and this time you’re sure it’s Liyuean as he concludes by gently, playfully grazing his teeth over your cheeks and jaw and neck. 

Two can play that game.

You mumble something in response with your own native tongue, all chirps and purrs and light tones. Zhongli pauses and turns back to look at you inquisitively, single eyebrow arched. It’s endearing. “I said that tonight, you’re mine.”

He smiles and you suddenly feel the world spin as – oh fuck are you being lifted? You were trying to be smooth with your earlier statement, corny as it sounded, but this. This fucker literally swept you off your feet.

Yeah, not fair at all.

“Then, dear starlight, allow this old adeptus to humbly offer himself to your whims.”

“Hmm,” you purr, “You offer? Sounds awfully sacrilegious coming from a former Archon.”

As you’re taken to his bedroom, Cor Lapis eyes make a show of inspecting your body he carries before eventually meeting your own. “I am no longer that Archon.” His voices dips even lower, sultry and husky and possessive. “Tonight, I am Zhongli. I am yours.” You gasp as he sits down on his bed and pulls you back in with another kiss, light nips and moans. The debilitating arousal that hits you soaks your undergarments as you realize that this god, Prime of the Adepti, is begging for more on his proverbial knees.

Yeah, you think as you open your mouth and welcome him, this works. His tongue is warm and silky; somewhere, you feel his hands making quick work of your clothing, so you try to return the favor. After you unceremoniously toss his clothes – and ignore his offended puffs – you lean back, admiring the now shirtless Morax as he spread his legs further, nearly coy if not for that devilish smirk. His brown and gold marks extend all the way to his shoulders, reminding you once more of all that those hands have achieved.

Maybe… Maybe will do to you later too, you think, suddenly shy. When you feel cold air strike your core, you shiver, only now realizing that the god stripped you quickly without your notice.

Seeing him spread out like this, legs apart and chest bare, you can’t help but wonder how the statues littering Liyue do him no justice, not by a long shot. You sink to your knees before him, and he makes a confused sound, leaning forward only to halt when you place a hand beneath his naval.

“I thought you were the one to be worshipped tonight,” he mumbles, though clearly not opposed.

“Mm, my whims, right? I just – “ You lean forward and trail your lips up his thighs. “ – really – “ Another kiss, closer, closer. “ – want to taste you.” His breath stutters as you kiss his bulge, relishing in his earthy scent. Somehow, he always still smells of silk flowers, an undercurrent to what you experience now. You glance up at him and undo his pants; as you reach forward, you let just enough of his cock through before you shift forward and let him slide into your hot mouth.

Morax growls at you, and oh fuck that’s doing something to you as another wave floods you, settling low and deep to soak your thighs. He bucks his hips slightly to reach further into your hot mouth and you rush to keep your hands on his thighs. Not that it would help, really, but it reassures you that somehow, you’re still in control. As you move forward to further take him in your mouth, you simultaneously strip him of his last clothing and pull it down to his ankles before he kicks it away somewhere. Truth be told, you’re torn between making this as slow and reverent as possible or drink from him like he’s a fountain in a desert.

You settle for somewhere in between as you slowly move your head back and forth, swallowing around him when you can’t take any more, and you lift your hands to stroke what’s left. Stars, he’s thick and long, your jaws ache just from taking him this much.

As you pull back, a trail of spit connecting his leaking head to your lips, and you flush when you realize – “Only halfway?”

Zhongli chuckles above you and cards his hand through your hair. “It’s okay, starlight, we can – “

“No.” You interrupt him to take his throbbing cock again, but you begin tracing a warm and wet line down his shaft instead, and he groans low. You’ve wanted to taste him for so long and you’re sure there’s some bullshit adeptus aphrodisiac in his precum, because gods above he tastes exquisite everywhere. Somewhere above you, Zhongli is writhing and panting as you take his head again to swallow around it, drunk on his noises. The saltiness in your mouth only encourages your efforts, determined to give him the best performance he’s ever had.

You lay your tongue flat against his frenulum and he jumps, barely incoherent as he tugs incessantly. “Wai – nnngh – wait, I-I’m close, I’m… Haah.”

Warmth blooms within as you release his cock with a pop and look at him, eyes hooded. “I want to taste you,” you slur. “All of you.” He looks stricken as you resume your ministrations, and soon you feel him throb more insistently. Zhongli is a God of War, right? Maybe… Maybe if you do this –

You drag your nails fierce and unexpected down his hips and thighs and he cums, hard. Suddenly you’re forced to hold his legs for purchase as you swallow, it’s all you can really do as you feel his tight grip hold you in place to face-fuck you and you milk him for all he’s worth. Which, y’know, you’re fine with too. Your eyes flutter closed as you hear soft coos and praises tumble from his lips, and you release his cock to look back up as it twitches lightly, already missing your wet mouth. Between the two of you, you’re not sure who looks more drunk.

 No, actually, you’re sure that you look more drunk, because even though Zhongli’s eyes are deep in reverie as watches you stand up, he looks like the perfect image of serenity. His bed is vast, linen sheets with a ridiculously high thread count and shimmering amber patterns over the black base, and his headboard is a deep grey with Cor Lapis geometric decorations littering it almost haphazardly. You realize that the design mimics his throne in the Geo Archon statues.

Around the room, you suddenly notice more silk flowers and glaze lilies, with a window spanning nearly  the entire wall to your right with a view of Liyue only afforded to royalty. There are jade statues and crimson tapestries framing a weapon rack hanging on the wall to your left with multiple spears adorning it, each likely worth a king’s ransom.

And here you are, standing in front of Rex Lapis as he moans your name and nearly pouts for more attention. How many have seen this great emperor laid so low?

Suddenly, you yelp as the man grows impatient and grabs your hand to pull you to him before rolling over you. His glowing eyes narrow as he growls, though it isn’t threatening so much as restless, and you keen when he lowers his mouth to your neck. Ah, there it is, that dominating Archon present once more.

Zhongli’s lips trail kisses as he travels down the curve of your throat to your sternum, before shifting to one breast and flicking his tongue over your nipple. You jolt and moan again, louder when he bites, then nurses it again with kisses to sooth. Then, you feel it, those skillful and calloused hands as one traces your hips before reaching your core. You whine and lift your hips, grabbing a fistful of Zhongli’s hair as he moves to your other breast. “Please, please, please.”

He smiles against your skin as one tickles around your folds, suddenly in the mood to go slowly and tease. Right when you are about to complain, a digit touches your clit and you whine as you jerk your hips again. Only, the sly fucker moves his hand back with your hips so you never feel that pressure tending to your need. You moan out his name, an absolute mess as he massages you idly like he has all the time in the world.

Well, technically, you both do, but you want it now, damn it.

When he moves his head back up to your neck to begin kissing again, you snake your hand around his throat to pull him in close and seethe, “If you keep playing with me, so help me I will – “ The words die in your mouth as he suddenly plunges a finger in and moans at how tight and silky you are, the wet noises drowned out by your cry. Zhongli never breaks eye contact as he watches exactly how you come undone from just one finger.

You can’t find it in yourself to be embarrassed at how easily he calls your bluff with the overwhelming relief that comes from him stoking that fire deep within. He twists his hand around and a lazy smile graces his lips, the pristine image of composure while you’re twitching and mumbling underneath. You claw at his back and moan incoherently, desperately looking at him and hoping he understands.

Oh, oh he does, but Zhongli purrs regardless when he leans forward to whisper in your ear, “Words, darling, use your words.” Right when you begin forming them, though, he slides another finger to join the first to cut you off. Cheeky bastard. A third quickly joins, and you throw your head back, noises growing in your throat when you feel yourself getting closer, closer, yes there -

The god looks at you and frowns lightly as he tuts. “So loud,” he says, and you feel his fingers leave you as you clamp around nothing, right at the precipice. Zhongli laughs, silvery in sound, when he spies your frustrated bearing, about a threatening as a kitten’s, and he nips your jaw with a quiet, “Open wide.” When you oblige, you feel him slide his fingers in your mouth, and you move your tongue between them to taste yourself. He moans appreciatively and you smile as you lick again. You never thought you could be into this, but with him? Fuck yes you can be.

“How do you taste, little one?” You sigh at him and smile but pause again when you spot that glint in his eye, the one that spells all sorts of trouble for you. When Zhongli withdraws his fingers, you watch as he gracefully climbs down your body, all slow movements and muscles flexing like an elegant beast.

A dragon, really.

His eyes flick up to yours as you watch, thighs twitching around his head when he leans in closer to kiss your velvety folds. You close your own as you squeak and feel his laugh, before you throw your body up when you feel his tongue slide deep into your pussy without hesitation, the top of his mouth wrapping your bud in a furnace. God of the Stove? Something, something, something –

Your hips struggle to meet his lips, but you feel one hand hold you down with his growling. Stay put. “Ohhh, f-fuck, please – “ You try again and this time, his nails dig deep into your skin and you hiss with pleasure. His other hand creeps up and slides a finger in to match his tongue, and stars you suddenly can’t breathe.

When you look down again and see his golden eyes just fucking watching you, intense and concentrated, you realize the inevitable. “Nnngh, f-fuck I-I’m – “ you stutter, barely having enough wherewithal to warn him, “I’m g-going to –“

The devil smirks wickedly and he sucks on your clit, and you’re tumbling. Gods above, something tears through you as you cum with a ragged, hoarse cry of his name as euphoria streaks through you unforgivingly. Your muscles spasm and you grip the sheets harder, all too aware of your limited mobility and it’s like your body made your orgasm all the more intense, knowing it can only express itself there. White-hot pleasure concentrates around the god’s head, and you can’t figure out if the heat is from you or him.

Each spasm has you releasing more wetness from your cunt to Zhongli’s mouth and he groans deeply, lapping it all the while he finger-fucks you through your orgasm. When it gets to be too much, your oversensitive bud begging for a gods-deserved break, you lightly swat at his head to stop drinking you; he only purrs softly into your folds before slowly withdrawing his fingers.

When the former Archon sits back up and slowly, deliberately licks each of his fingers as he makes eye contact with you, your throat seizes. “Fuck,” you breathe. Oh, oh gods, if you were native Teyvaten, it’s him you would worship, you would throw yourself down and suck him dry all day if he would let you, ride his thighs on his throne, fuck he’s so sexy, so handsome, so fucking good to you –

Only when his eyes crinkle with pleasure did you realize you… You were saying those things out loud, each one of those statements tumbling and traitorous.

You quickly look away, mortified and all too aware suddenly of your current situation, the fact that you’re in bed with him. You’ve harbored a cru- fondness for him for so long, you lost yourself to the ecstasy before being brought back to reality.

Zhongli frowns and crawls forward, gently taking hold of your chin to turn you to him. His eyes. Stars, they’re so warm and welcoming and… Tender. “Starlight,” he rumbles, “Was that… All right?” Stupefied. You’re stupefied as you realize this ancient god thought you were embarrassed of him, of his performance somehow and not your own childish blunderings.

“Y-Yes!” you squeal and immediately wrap your arms around his shoulders. He falls forward with an oof as your legs find purchase around his hips, and you begin trailing kisses down his cheek and jaw to his neck in an attempt to rectify this. “Y-yes, that was so good, I-I just… I can’t believe you… We…”

Zhongli chuckles and you can hear the smirk in his voice when he says, “Well, perhaps we can keep proving you wrong?” When he bucks his hips, your pussy feels electric as you realize the angle you’re hanging off of him allows his cock to slide just outside of your slit. Again, you’re sure you would’ve been more embarrassed at the fact that you’re practically a sloth hanging off of him, but, well, come on. Who doesn’t want to climb this tree?

As he’s slowly rocking and coating his cock with your slick, back and forth and whispering sweet nothings between kisses along your temple, you realize belatedly that he’s asking for permission. “Please,” you mumble.

He doesn’t need anything more as you feel his hips angle, the tip poking just the entrance. When he slides in, slowly at first and barely the head inside you, you wheeze. “B-Big,” you huff unceremoniously and Zhongli pauses, waiting for you to adjust.

You both stay like that for a moment, breaths mingling, and you feel his back muscles flex under your nails. Eventually, your eyes open and you see how his are tightly shut and he’s painfully biting his lip. All those centuries carefully cultivating a strong discipline is being tested, here and now, and stars he looks to be in terrible pain as he holds, waiting for you to adjust.

Hm. A thought strikes you, lighting in your head with a faint ping.

Slowly, to not startle him – though his eyes snap open anyway when you touch his shoulder – you creep your hand up and go to the back of his head. He looks at you, curious and distracted for a moment while you reach for his ribbon. When you pull it undone, eyes scrutinizing his every movement to see if he enjoys this, you card your hand through his waves as they cascade around you two.

Then, you tug. Hard.

Shit, that does it as Zhongli sinks his head to your neck and groans, low and open and raw as he thrust his hips further, suddenly sinking in half of his length into you. You gasp and hold on to his hair tighter when he pauses, but you only tug again – lighter, this time – and he gets the hint. Slowly, the god begins rocking his hips once more; this time, he works inch-by-agonizing-inch into you.

You have a hard time breathing as his girth practically splits you open and glides along, your hips already aching from how wide you spread them to accommodate his size. Nothing about him is soft, it’s all hard planes of muscles and jagged edges, and yet. And yet. When he leans forward to capture your lips again, it’s all you can think of when you think of him. Soft.

The obscene noises your pussy makes around him is silenced as he slows, finally reaching the base and hips meet your own. You have to give him credit, those gentle kisses were excellent distractions, because you’re not sure if you could have survived otherwise. When you lean forward to nip his bottom lip, he hums and begins to draw back before rocking back in.

It’s torturous, really, it is, the way his cock rolls along your velvet walls hitting every nerve point with deliberation. He wants to drag this out as long as he can, and impatient as you are, you want him to instead be going faster. Amber eyes meet yours, and neither of you have to say it. It’s now a fight for control, for who can direct the pace of this little skirmish.

For every whine and lift of your hips, his own draws back to match you. “I… Have raised – urgh,” Zhongli starts, grunting when you nip at a spot on his collarbone, “Liyue meticulously… L-little one, let me b-b-hhuild – “ You lap at another spot as you claw his back. “ – you, worship you.”

“Mmmno,” you reply, huffing in protest when Zhongli captures your mouth again and begins exploring it with the same vigor he did your cunt. When you realize that, you squeeze at the memory, but he only groans and shifts for a deeper angle. You let out a noise somewhere between a chirp and a squeal as he begins hitting that one spot. “I-I a-a-am not… Hah… Not a sta-tuueee to worship and erect, Zhongli.”

He laughs. “Interesting choice of words.” You barely hear him though as he begins thrusting with greater power, and you keen as you feel yourself approaching the edge again while you clamp harder around him. Each thrust from his hips punches a slight gasp out of you, and feel teeth drag along your jugular until you’re meeting his piercing eyes. His golden pupils are slits now, absolutely proud and feral. Thank all the gods in all the worlds above because Zhongli doesn’t stop, doesn’t tease you this time. Instead, he guides you to that precipice with the same slow determination he promised.

“Hh-haah, oh fuck,” you whimper, “I-I’m - !”

He kisses your temple and murmurs, “I know.”

Any annoyance you feel at his haughtiness is swept away when another orgasm is drawn from you, and you gasp, tugging his hair needily. His rhythm doesn’t change, only the intensity, but that’s all you need as you feel your pleasure building in waves. You knew this was coming, but you don’t expect how quickly it arrives nor the duration.

No, while your first orgasm was passionate and blazing, striking you like lightning, this one made you feel as though you are in a boat on a turbulent ocean. Each wave you crest over only gets higher, your euphoria growing as you bite his shoulder in an attempt to hide at least some of your cries, but you fail utterly. The noises coming from your core as it floods are downright obscene, and… Shit, is he talking?

“ – lovely, perfect little one, pretty thing just squeezing around my cock, aren’t you? Good girl, you are perfect -”

You sob and nod vigorously, yes you are a good little girl, just keep pounding Zhongli and you’ll be good for him all night. “I – I,” you start, quite uselessly if you’re honest, and he looks at you curiously but doesn’t stop his movements. “I – I… Am still… I-iiiiiin cont-rhhhol.”

“Yes, you are,” he coos and leans forward to kiss you, his hips finally, finally moving slightly faster. Only slightly, though.

Are you, though? Are you really? Because as Zhongli smirks at your debauched expression, drool coming out slightly and covered in blooming bruises, you wonder if this is another one of his games to make the other think they were the victor all along. You wouldn’t put it past him.

“T-then,” you croon, “f-fuck me harder, Zhongli.”

“Mm?”

“H-Harder, faster, oh stars,” you whine, “I need it, p-please, I can take it!”

His eyes become hooded, and suddenly, you feel him pull out. Hey, hey wait, that’s the exact opposite of what you want. It isn’t long, though, and you’re flipped on your stomach with a stone grip yanking your hips up for him. Instinctually you arch your back and mewl as you present yourself, and you hear a string of Liyuen curses fall from his mouth as he palms one of your cheeks before you feel a slap. Oh, that one drew a loud moan.

You feel brave and look over your shoulder, only to be devastatingly aroused at the sight of him inspecting your dripping hole. “Filthy,” he murmurs, clearly pleased with his handwork as his other hand strokes his cock. Zhongli’s eyes meet you then and he smiles, shifting closer, clearly not wanting to waste time.

In a single thrust he’s sheathed fully inside you again, and you cry out as you feel both hands move to your hips in a bruising grip. He begins pounding in earnest, mumbling more praises under his breath, but you don’t register it, all you feel is him, just him.

However, it isn’t long before you’re frustrated. Not with him or his divine cock, but you feel like you’re missing something. You grumble, wanting some of the icy pain you gave him inflicted on you too. “Z-Zhongli!” you cry, turning around again and determination written on your face.

He doesn’t miss a beat in his movements as he meets your stare again, perfect eyebrow arched. “I can take it,” you grouse. “I can take you, don’t hold back, please. Stop treating me so gently. Be rough with me, I’m begging you, be a beast and use me. It’s you and me tonight, remember?”

The god suddenly freezes, eyes wide as saucers at your demand, and you barely stop an embarrassed wince from creeping on your face. Shit, was that too much? Except, when he smiles, all teeth and eyes glowing with pleasure and long eyelashes fluttering, your heart suddenly shoots into your throat with anticipation and no small amount of fear. “Very well.”

He leans forward to kiss the small of your back as he pulls out, your pussy clenching around emptiness once again. Before your very eyes, you watch scales erupt from his shoulders and you feel claws pricking your hips, sure to draw blood if they pressed any further. You vaguely register a sudden weight to your right; gasping, you watch a long, draconic tail wrap around your hand, flicking with all the excitement of a pleased cat. However, when you look back, his whole being seems to have grown larger and you feel small; the dark brown coloring of his shoulders bleeds now to his pecs and journey – delicate like paint strokes – to his naval. You don’t miss fangs grace his open smile and Cor Lapis antlers rising from his head, shy of scraping the ceiling. They glow rhythmically with the markings on his arms, pulsing like a primordial heart. Stars, it’s truly a radiant crown befitting the Prime Adeptus, Morax, emperor of Liyue.

You swear to yourself then to never ever ever tell Zhongli your original intent, not on your fucking life. Truth be told, you meant something more along the lines of biting, scratching your back or something, never in your wildest fantasies did you think he would take your dare so literally.

Well, maybe in your wildest fantasies, but that’s a secret between you and the stars.

When your eyes take in all the glory that is Rex Lapis, your breath hitches when you finally spy his cock, practically weeping with pre-cum and twitching to be back inside you. What gives you pause is the fact that, well, every part of him grew with his transformation. Not only the length and girth, but the very appearance shifted, looking more draconic. Ridges line his darkened member and like his arms, there are golden markings glimmering along his shaft that throb in time with every other.

Immediately, you hear two sides inside you war: fuck yes fuck yes fill me completely and can that even fit or will I die first?

What a way to go, you decide, and shyly meet his eyes again. The entire time he sits under your inspection, he is rigid and chest slightly puffed. He preens under your appreciative noises, and when you finally match his eyes again, there is a renewed hunger lurking in those amber depths. “Last warning,” he rumbles.

You feel the vibrations of his voice, deep and shattering like a rockslide, and another wave of arousal practically seeps out as you moan. The leak doesn’t escape his sharp eyes and he smirks, taking this as your approval. Grabbing his cock in one hand and holding you steady with the other, he begins the slow breach, and oh fuck does it hurt in the best way possible. Some of the loudest cries from you yet are quickly silenced as you bury your head into your arms, only to come out again when one of his hands snake around your hips to begin steadily rubbing your clit. You feel a slight jut and you’re pushed forward, but he doesn’t move. Instead, Zhongli’s head rests between your shoulder blades panting hot and wet while he focuses on getting you to relax.

“M-move,” you mumble, and he growls in response and presses just an inch further before stopping again. You whine, an impatient brat, and try to take more of his cock by rolling your hips back. Hissing, you feel his claws pierce skin as his grip tightens to keep you in place; you choose to ignore the warning and try again, only to yelp when you feel a sharp bite to your shoulder.

You’re pretty sure that if you move this time, his fangs will draw blood, so you still. Okay. Okay, yeah, nope. You’re not in charge anymore. You may have won the battle, but it’s only fitting that Rex Lapis won the war.

“H-How far?” you ask, almost scared of the answer.

Eventually he releases his jaws and begins tenderly licking your skin – is his tongue forked? – and he hums. “About a quarter of the way.”

“A-a quarter of the - ?! Oh, for fuck’s sake,” you sputter. You grab his tail and tug on it insistently, trying to get his attention. “Hey, pull out a sec.”

He doesn’t move.

“Zhongli.”

Grumbles.

“Zhongli.”

The god pulls out, and when you turn back, you can’t help the laugh that escapes your lips at the expression he wears. Liyue’s denizens will surely kill you if they ever saw how you reduced their once mighty Archon to a pouting mess. “Good boy,” you coo. You hear a deep purr rise from his chest, and you lean forward to kiss before shifting around and grabbing his shoulders. “Now, turn around and lay on the bed.”

You don’t have to repeat yourself as he quickly lifts you again – not fair – and twists around so that you’re straddling his waist while his tail curls around one of your feet. When he settles back against the headboard, watching you intently for your next command, you marvel once again at the failure of the statues to truly capture his glory.

Biting your lip, you dig your hands into the brown scales framing his shoulders, but quickly fumble around for different purchase as some of his scales jut into your hand. When you finally find a good position, you release a long sigh and Zhongli curves his lips up before pulling you close for another kiss.

“We don’t have to,” he says when you break apart.

“No, we do, we have to,” you drawl, somber expression contrasting his amused one. “It’s the law, I demand it.”

He huffs, indignant, but offers no further protest. When you look down, your thighs begin quaking as you realize how close his cock already is. You reach down and take it, giving it a firm squeeze around the head and feel him buck into your hand. Eventually, you balance yourself over the head and begin the slow descent into madness.

Because holllyyyy stars, feeling his cock spear you like that is enough to make you become dizzy with pleasure. Still, you made a promise to yourself, so you sink further and work him in deeper. The ridges brush against every nerve ending and you curl your toes, electricity shooting up your spine as you cry out in raw pleasure. Zhongli digs his claws into your hips again and leans forward, snarling at the sensation of you fluttering around him.

By the time you reach the base, you’re a quivering mess; when the god moves his hips to readjust, you openly sob at his cock resting deep and filling you so completely. “Look at you,” he coos, and you feel one hand drag to your stomach. When you look down, you gasp as you see a thick bulge pushing out, marking you in exactly all the ways that Zhongli is filling you. “Taking me so well.”

His fingers drag along your stomach, idly moving in circles. Or diamonds? They feel almost... Purposeful. Hissing, you move forward as you hear him hum something in a language foreign to you while the skin around your belly burns before slowly soothing.

You kiss him again, allowing his tongue to snake in and explore your mouth anew. Deciding to take a page out of his book, you roll your hips against his instead of moving up and down, though he doesn’t seem to mind if the noises he makes are anything to go by.

You can’t help it, you break the kiss and fall forward against his chest and keen when he grabs your hips to begin moving earnestly himself. It’s clear you’re no more than a cocksleeve, legs gone and you can only hold on for the ride. One of your hands winds up to grapple his antlers for stability, prompting greater speed from him. Your voice begins rising in pitch, and the fire within begins burning anew, quick and merciless once again. Zhongli takes one hand and claws his way down your back, marking you and tearing you apart like you’re his prey and you love it. Soon, all you can hear is your heart hammering in your head; you sink further into that dream of bliss, all sense quickly departing except for full –

“One more,” you hear somewhere distant, beckoning. “Grant me one more. Cum for me.”

And that single word yanks you back to the present, growls and moans ringing loud and clear around you as your orgasm tears through you unexpectedly. Oh, how you obey your lord, because that orgasm somehow reaches new heights the previous one didn’t, and you begin openly crying. You register a forked tongue lapping at the salty streaks down your cheeks, but you don’t care, you’re only focusing on your pleasure burning all other thoughts away and rendering you mute. The vivid energy bleeding through you compels your body to release what little wetness you have left, and just barely, Zhongli’s cock pounding away at you glides easier.

You feel nudging at your head, and you roll it to the side instinctually, bearing your throat in submission to lick a hot stripe along your jugular as his hips move faster, singular focus in seemingly rearranging your insides to make more room for him, for all of his godly power. At his final thrust, he sinks his teeth into the crook of your neck and shoulder in determination, but you long ago lost any serious feeling outside of your oversensitive core. Instead, you lift your hand to card through his hair as you feel his hips roll into your own slowly, hellbent on filling you completely.

Zhongli just keeps cumming and cumming, and a nearly unbearable warmth builds low in your stomach, but the amount is enough that it eventually gushes out of around his cock. When he feels wetness seeping out, he release your shoulder and grumbles, soothing the wound with slow licks. One hand caresses the stretched skin of your stomach around his cock again, handling it with the tender care of a doting lover.

Huh. Lover.

You giggle, stupid and dreamy, and Zhongli smiles with you. “Come on, little one,” he says and begins lifting you off. Oversensitive and raw, you both wheeze at the sensation of the ridges catching again until you’re off and empty and – oops. Mixed cum floods out of you; pink dusts your cheeks, but he merely hums and stands with you. The world spins around you as you are placed on the bed with your legs nudged apart. A few moments pass before you feel a warm, damp cloth wiping at your sensitive core and thighs – ah, there are some bite marks there too – and you sigh, perfectly content with all the stress of the day thoroughly fucked out of you.

Though your eyes are closed, you’re still lucid as you feel yourself gently manhandled and lifted. When you’re placed back down, you whine at the loss of the silky cover, left with the downy blanket underneath. “Forgive me, dear bird,” Zhongli laughs, “But I feel you would not appreciate sleeping in our mess.”

“I forgive you,” you say, and open your eyes when you feel the bed dip. Zhongli settles in next to you back in his human form, and of course, perfect as always. Smiling, you move closer to him, making a pleased sound when he takes this opportunity to begin brushing your hair with his fingers.

“We should go to the pharmacy tomorrow for your wounds.”

“Aw, and cover the marks?” You smirk when you hear his breath hitch.

“You cannot say such things to an adeptus, starlight.”

“Oops.” After some minutes, Zhongli stops and rises out of bed. Your hand shoots out to grab his and you look at him pleadingly. “Where are you going?”

“Ah, I am going to brew some tea. Something to soothe the muscles.”

“Of course you are,” you grin and release him. You’re content to let him fuss over you both. Quietly, you hear soft singing emerge from another room, the words foreign to your ears but pleasant nonetheless.

You feel soft inside.

 ---

 “Will you tell me of your friends one day?”

The former Archon stops and looks at you. “My story is a long and complicated one. Entwined with many others.” A red thread.

You nod. “That’s okay,” you hum. “I have all the time in the world.” A pause. “You remember them, yet choose to not be remembered yourself. Left to be debated and fought over. Why?”

Zhongli pulls the blanket over both of you and wraps an arm around you, whispering into your hair like some dirty confession, some dirty sin. “You remember. Is that not enough?”

“I suppose so,” you mumble. What are friends for?  “I hope, before we leave, I can tell your story again and again. Maybe I can move the heavens, make a constellation for you. Permanent and guiding. Even if you don’t want its name remembered, it will still be there.”

He laughs and closes his eyes. She would defy the heavens?

You close your eyes too. After all, that’s what friends do. They remember each other.

 ---

 (Morax’s heart flutters when he hears we. Can he join? Will Celestia allow it?

Certainly, he can collect the wealth of the heavens to pay back Childe, he muses. A practical decision, of course.

Or perhaps Childe can come collect them himself.)

 ---

 Dust is in the air, clouding his vision. The young god coughs and shuffles forward, hand calloused and tight around his stone spear.

Compassion, he muses. She always preached of love, of tenderness. Where was compassion for her?

Morax keeps walking, dust growing thicker and dark like the night. Obsidian lays around him, shimmering with promises of vengeance. He has failed. Guizhong trusted him to lead without her? They were never his people, they were hers. He was merely the guardian, the infallible stone statue.

And now, their Archon.

When he falls to his knees, he feels warm drops fall on his face, only to realize belatedly why – it is blood. The blood of the countless beings he’s slaughtered for her, as her people watched in horror as he attempted to water the earth with it.

Suddenly, he feels a cool breeze pick up. A rolling storm gathers and relentless rain replaces the blood on his face.

His hands remain stained. Cold. Godly.

The rain doesn’t seem to mind.

Before he stands, the water washes away some of the earth in front of him. Morax leans forward to grasp a shimmering stone. The sun’s warmth floods his hands, but he only grips tighter and cradles it close to his chest as he watches the rain pelt the earth.

 ---

 Zhongli’s eyes blink open, though he still feels the weight of sleep and the taste of dust in his mouth. The sun has not quite risen, but the sky turning brighter tells him the world is still asleep. You are still asleep.

His eyes soften as he looks at you hiding your face in the crook of his neck, hands tucked to his chest. However, the dream lingers in his mind, and he can only move forward to wrap tighter as he settles his arm over your body in a protective stance.

A dragon and his hoard.

He remembers Tartaglia’s question. Do you have a hoard, Rex Lapis? Do you safeguard gold? Maybe I can see it one day in your den. How insolent and forward, he thinks fondly.

Though, eventually, his mind strays to your conversation earlier, of his own misgivings about Celestia.

He remembers the last time he tried to hold something so divine – so fragile – in his mighty grip.

“Please,” he murmurs to the empty room. “Please.” Zhongli, for the first time, feels he understands the mortals on their knees before the gods. But he doesn’t pray to Celestia, he prays to her.

He tries to forget how his heart ached when the Snezhnayan ship breached the horizon, gliding on the calm ocean to take its chaos elsewhere. How the sunset took all the light and warmth from Liyue Harbor that day. How fierce and angry you were with him.

Zhongli closes his eyes, resolved in his conviction that, though you may forgive, you will never forget his manipulations of Childe back then. Tartaglia’s insistence on chipping away his stone armor both infuriated and endeared to him, so he respected the Harbinger as a deserving rival. How could the Warrior God do anything less?

You mumble, and he pulls you in closer.

Despite it all, Zhongli begs to keep this moment to himself, away from the burning and punishing gaze of Celestia. He is thankful that you returned to him, thankful you deemed his presence worthy once more, thankful that his wait for the dawn paid off. This is enough, he thinks, just to hold you. This is to protect you – something he failed to do for the last divine he cared for. It’s safer for you.

(It’s safer for him.)

As he coils tighter around you and exhales a deep breath before closing his eyes, he can only pray that this moment remains hidden.

After all, who could forgive an earthly dragon – a God of Greed  - for the sin of stealing one of heaven’s golden stars?

 ---

 In Dihua Marsh, the cresting dawn’s light dances along the earth. The wind whispers to the flora and carries the dusty earth with it, parting the grass to allow the sun to warm the previous cover. Water from a nearby creek has long since fertilized the earth, and there lies a single green sprout.

It’s a glaze lily, the first in many millennia who once belonged to that rare breed that opened only for her.

-

notes:

y'all ever see that image of a hamster eating a very large banana? yeah

1) Baijiu is a type of liquor that originates in China! Furthemore, "zu fu" is the formal term for paternal grandfather in Standard Mandarin, xiangqi is a type of Chinese chess, and feng shui is the principle of decorating one's living space to allow better harmony of all energies within.

2) Up until the past century give or take, it was traditional in ancient China for the emperor to have multiple wives or concubines in order to ensure a male heir. Since Liyue is essentially China and Zhongli was its emperor for 3700 years, I imagine the concept of monogamy to be very foreign to him whenever he desired a lover. As much as i love headcanoning Zhongli as a himbo, i'm pretty sure he's so old-school he doesn't realize his blatant courtships and desires aren't being recognized lol. old himbo?

3) The exchange of betrothal gifts between the families being married is customary before the ritualistic courtships continued, and any partnership without equal exchange (Liyue) was considered extremely dishonorable

4) I wanted to sneak a reference to the fact that zhongli’s story quest is the first one we got that’s not named after his constellation, so his constellation’s name is not important to him, but recording ancient history is

also i appreciate any tips on my writing because fun fact! this is the first time i ever wrote smut _(:3」∠)_ luv y'all

[limepigeon]

@crownleys organised an evening of writing sprints over at the Zombies, Fanworks! Discord tonight and here’s what I wrote! I can’t remember if I’ve ever written fanfic for the ZR fandom so it was great fun! Of course I had to write something about everyone’s favourite Radio Boyfriends. Thanks again for organising this Emma! Title: Get it out (or Jack helps Eugene deal with his emotions in a Jack way) Fandom: Zombies, Run! Words: 1,432 Warnings: None Set during Season 1 Notes: I’m sorry if there are spelling/grammar errors in it, I wrote it in two hours and gave it a quick little edit/proof reading but some things may have slipped by (they usually do haha).

Eugene hardly ever gets angry. He doesn’t cause any scenes. If anything he prefers keeping any arguments under a tightly shut lid. Let it simmer for a while until it either fizzes out or boils over. Tonight is the third sleepless night, caused by an unusual large horde taking their sweet time dragging rotten feet across the vast meadows outside of Abel. Everyone is on edge, sure, but Jack and Eugene are the ones trying to keep morale up. “And that’s day three…” Jack sighs into the microphone, “still no signs of stopping. I’m sorry folks but this thing seems to go on forever. Just kilometer after kilometer of endless zombies, all the way to the horizon. There are some places where you can’t even see the ground! I don’t think I’ve ever seen this many in one and the same-“ He’s interrupted by an exasperated groan. “Will you please shut up?” Eugene’s voice is harsh. There’s none of the usual warmth that makes even the coldest of nights comfortable in his presence. He’s rubbing his temples slowly, his eyebrows drawn together tightly. “I’m sorry?” Jack doesn’t even try to not sound offended. “Is my voice bothering you?” “Little bit, yes” Eugene says without as much as looking at Jack. “Too bad, ‘cause this is our job, talking is my job.” “Well, your job is drilling a hole through my skull.” Eugene puts his forehead in his palms and stares at the small red light indicating that they’re still broadcasting. It’s been on for what feels like hours. “Put on a song” he says. “But we have to send out Dr. Myers report on-“ “Put on the fucking song” Eugene demands, punctuating each word harshly, and Jack barely has the time to switch on the CD before Eugene rips his headphones off his head and lets the chair slam into the ground as he stands up.

“Hey Gene, what’s the matter?” Jack reaches out for Eugene’s shoulder but he moves out of the way.   “Aren’t you sick of this?” Eugene mutters while keeping his eyes fixed at the ground. Jack sighs. “Well, it would be nice if they left so we could get some proper sleep, yeah” he says. “I don’t mean the zombies” Eugene says, “I mean all of it.” He seems to lean onto his crutch more than usual. His whole posture seems off. The air outside is chilly now that the sun has set, even though it’s summer. “Gene, I get it, it’s okay to be upset about this, everyone’s-“ Jack gets interrupted again. “I’m not upset Jack! I’m fucking pissed!” The shouting takes Jack by surprise. He can’t remember the last time he’d seen Eugene like this. At least not since… He shakes the past out of his head. “Oh, okay then, uh...” It’s all he can manage. “About what?” “Everything! All this bullshit! We’re just sitting here, talking shit that doesn’t even matter! People are dying out there Jack, and what do we do? We joke, and we laugh, as if that’s what the world needs right now! We’re just…! I’m- I can’t-“ His words get jumbled before his voice cracks. “Hey, hey love, it’s okay” Jack grabs Eugene by his arms “it’s okay.” “I’m just so tired, I don’t know what to do.” Eugene looks into Jack’s eyes, probably for the first time for the entire evening. There’s pain, sure - there always is during hard nights, but there’s something else. Something stuck deep in Eugene, aching to get out. Jack wants to tell him he’s talking shit, that their job is important. That Eugene is important, and not just to Jack. But he knows that’s not what he needs right now. “Wait here, I’ll be right back.” Jack heads into the tiny shed used for their broadcasts and is back outside in less than a minute. There aren’t many hills in Abel, which is quite ideal when putting up the makeshift homes for newcomers to the township. The radio tower, which has been there long before Jack and Eugene arrived, stands just about a hundred meters away from Janine’s farmhouse at the highest point of Abel. “It’s freezing Jack, what are we even doing here?” Eugene complains. His good leg has started aching from the climb and he didn’t bring any mittens either. “Something that always makes me feel better when I’m angry” Jack smiles. Eugene raises an eyebrow to show his skepticism. “Oi, don’t give me that look! I promise, it’s nothing dirty!” Jack jokingly punches Eugene’s shoulder and Eugene sighs. “You know I love you, but you know what your problem is, Gene? You’re always so bloody calm and collected. When was the last time you just let it all go?” “I, uh” Eugene starts but quickly falters. “Jack, what are we doing here?” His voice grows a bit more cautious. “We’re going to scream” Jack looks at Eugene almost triumphantly and Gene can’t help but laugh. “Oh, you’re serious?” Eugene’s has something akin to terror creeping onto his face when he realizes Jack is in fact not joking. “Dead serious, my man” Jack says and slaps Eugene’s back. “Now go on!” “I’m not going to scream” Eugene protests and he looks like he’s about to turn around to start the journey down the hill. He’s not prepared for the sound and his whole body tenses up in reaction to it. It’s loud, but different from what he’s heard during his time outside the walls, or in their tent at night when his partner wakes him up in a sweat-drenched panic. The scream now is lighter, not nearly is dreadful as the ones Eugene is used to. Afterwards there’s an almost as loud burst of laughter. “What the hell, Jack?” Eugene exclaims as he spins around, only to find Jack almost doubled over. He smiles at Eugene with a wide grin which is incredibly infectious. “Your turn” he says once he’s managed to catch his breath, only a little hoarse. “Come on.” He reaches out his hand towards Eugene, who with the help of his crutches moves closer to Jack. He can’t help but smile.

Janine tends to stay up late. Tonight she’s found something else that needs repairing. The radio has been on for the last couple of days, she likes to keep herself updated on the situation and maybe especially so at night. She barely listens to the song playing, only annoyed at how it interferes with the updates on the horde. Then it abruptly stops as Jack’s voice replaces the tunes. “Very sorry listeners, but I have some urgent business to attend to! We’ll be back shortly, in high spirits! Stay safe!”   She looks out of the kitchen window as two figures make their way up the hill towards the farmhouse. For a second she dreads the possibility of an unannounced drop by but as they start moving towards the radio tower her shoulders lowers again. She follows them with her gaze and even by just the light of the full moon she recognizes Jack and Eugene. Curious by her nature she opens the window just a crack, letting the summer air creep in. She moves some dirty dishes from the counter to the sink and brings her project from the kitchen table. Before the end of the world she had the TV on while working, not as company of course, Janine de Luca would like you to know she was not a lonely woman. It is the same now. She doesn’t watch the two men out of loneliness; she simply wants to know what’s going on in their lives. What Jack Holden and Eugene Woods do when no one else is around, when they are comfortable just the two of them. She’s seen the way they look at each other and lets her mind drift to an imaginary future where maybe something like that could, perhaps, be possible for her too? The first scream almost makes her jam the screwdriver into her hand. She curses loudly while looking out of the window bewildered, and then sighs when she watches the two men up on the hill. The second scream comes a few minutes later. It’s different. Unfamiliar and filled with more emotions than Janine thought possible to fit inside of a person all at once. It lasts at least twice as long as the first one and ends almost in a wail.

The calm silence lingering afterwards lasts for a couple of minutes, until it starts up again. Then the screams starts mixing together with laughter until there’s only the latter left. Janine shakes her head, thinking how everyone in Abel must be just as startled as her. Then she smiles.

[popculturebuffet]

Amphibia: Night Drivers/Return to Wartwood Review “Many Happy Returns”

Hello you happy people. And Amphibia is back and that means my reviews are back! As for why this reviews a bit late despite it leaking, I wanted to wait for today, and long story short both focused on finishing a review that WASN’T time senstive, instead of finishing it Sunday, and overestimated how much time i’d have to do two reviews on a day that included my first covid shot, grocery shopping, helping mom clean the car, and my friend coming over to watch Judas and the Black Messiah. Excellent film by hte way, as was the Sound of Metal which we watched after. Point is I done goofed and I will try to at the very least actually get the reviews of the episodes out on the same day they come out. 

But slip up or not i’m happy to be back in the saddle, and back to Wartwood. I’m pumped for the heavier second half, with more secrets to uncover, some zelda style temple action, and some heavy drama with just a whiff of keith david, as well as to see the supporting cast from Wartwood again after far too long. So how’d the mid-season premire pair fair? Join me under the cut to find out. 

Night Drivers: I was really excited by the Road Trip idea when first announced for season 2. A chance to expand the world and get the plantars out of their comfort zone was an amazing concept and it did lead to some really great stories and interesting locales.. mixed with episodes that had interesting locations but no interesting plot or character stuff. It was a mixed bag, and disappointing after close to a year’s wait to continue the plot that it really didn’t outside of “Toadcatcher”. Anne never really dealt with her trauma and the show never dealt with hop pop’s poularity or anything else. Again there were GOOD episodes and ideas but it felt like the show stalled for a good chunk of the season till we got to Netwopia which while still having tons of slice of life stuff felt a lot fresher with it, and had a lot more fun playing with stock plots and gave us a fresh new setting to dig into. 

So I was a bit hesitant to go back to the road for an episode.. even if it was just one episode. Thankfully I was very wrong there as Night Drivers was a pretty good episode and would fit well among the best of the road trip arc like “Truck Stop Polly” “Fort in the Road” “Anne Hunter” “Toadcatcher” and “Wax Museum”.

The plot is straightforward: Sprig and Polly are excited that their almost home to wartwood and if Anne and Hop Pop drive all night they’ll be there by morning. Polly will get pillbug pancakes and Sprig will see Ivy again. This is part of a long tradtion of “skiping over the journey home because we’re tired and we wanna go home” in fiction. Jokes aside it’s a resonable device used to prevent ending fatigue and in this case to free up episodes for the second half. We already saw the journey once, we usually don’t need to see it again. To Amphibia’s credit they have valid reasons for it: The journey is LITERALLY sped up, as Hop Pop and Anne have been driving for 20 hours straight.. and their on a timer. As was established last time.. well the last time that wasn’t a spooky halloween episode, The Plantars have to get back for the harvest and really don’t have time to sightsee, while they all have to be there for whenever Marcy comes back to take Anne to the first temple. They’ve also traveled these roads before so while their going a whole other directoin, they know what perils to avoid. 

But as anyone whose taken a long cartrip can tell you, you can’t shotgun it forever and the two eventually tap out with Hop Pop telling Sprig and Polly not to night drive as it’s dangerous and blah blah blah standard parental warning that will be swiftly ignored. So once Hop Pop and Anne are conked out they swiftly ignore it after we get their dreams.. which are the best gags of the episode: Hop Pop has a dream with weird, really cool looking monsters that represent his faults, only for it to turn Lucid and him to start flying and take his shirt off and whip it around Muscle Man style. 

While Anne’s is about a yogurt world where there’s only one flavor... BLACK LICORICE. Yeah it quickly turns from Shopkins to the Lich From Adventure Time really fucking quick. 

So while Anne has a nightmare and Hop Pop becomes unto a god, Sprig and Polly drive all night, repreadtly running into a creepy hitchiker and realizing it is as dangerous as they said with bolders, even worse creatures than usual because of course theye’d be a lot of nasty things lurk in the dark why wouldn’t they on froggy death world, a nightmarish fog and nearly dying on said foggy road they took to evade the hitchiker. Naturally the scary hook handed hitchiker.. is a friendly one, simply trying to help them and saving them from going over a cliff. They do make it three miles from Wartwood and Hop Pop wakes up angry to find they disobeyed him.. but Anne gets him to back off as they clearly learned their lesson from the sleep deprviation and nearly dying, and our heroes head for home. 

Night Drivers isn’t an exceptional episode, but it is decent and still does belong with the other good road trip episodes, with some good dream sequences and a nice dynamic between Sprig and Polly. It was nice to have an episode with the two that was good unlike Quarallers Pass which made me want to run full speed into my nearest wall until I was given the sweet gift of unconciousness. While the Hook Handed man thing was a bit obvious it lead to some great gags. It’s a nice breather after the tearjerking mid-season finale and while we’ve obviously had months and a haloween episode between that, the creators rightfully realized a lot of people will be binging the series in the future. The issue I had with the first quarter of the season was it was ALL break and only a little plot progression. Here we’ve had a lot of plot progression in the last episode chronlogically, and are going to have a lot in the coming episodes with ‘After the Rain” coming next week. It’s nice to take a break and see the forest for the hook handed ghosts.

Return to Wartwood: I was excited and terrified of this one. I was excited because I missed the supporting cast from season one, mostly Ivy and Maddie, and was delighted to see them again in full. But I was also worried the show might pull out a melancholy breakup plot and having gotten attached to Ivy/Sprig and Hop Pop/Sylvia I was worried. And I was delightfully wrong as instead it’s another breather episode and an utterly fantastic one after the simply decent one above. 

Our heroes return, without being drawn by rob liefield or replaced by the Squadron Supreme first, and are happily greeted by the town. Aformentoined fears died a happy death as Sylvia squeezes Hop Pop and as for Sprig, Ivy unsuprisingly ambushes him. Everyone’s back and the Mayor, who I also badly missed is back using Toadie as a gong to get everyone back to buisness, with Swampy inviting them for a big dinner at his diner that night to celebrate and welcome them back.. and to give out their gifts. 

Sprig and Anne are equally confused while Polly and Hop Pop are sweating bullets. Turns out when they got the Fwagon they agreed to get a bunch of stuff for the town and forgot and now everyone’s on the hook for it and want to lie their butts off to solve it. In a nice show of character development, Anne has learned that the lying never solves anything “I think we’ve learned that lesson by now”. After SO many plots of the characters lying and it going terribly, it’s nice to have someone speak up. Sprig also wants to lie but only becuase he’s deeply afraid Ivy will break up with him as she wanted a Red Sun shell to go with the blue moon shell she gave him. Awwww. And oh crap. 

So our heroes head home to plan and kick Chuck out (“I grew tulips”). So they do the natural thing... and decide to summon an edltich beast from the necronomicon... which of course Maddie gave Sprig as a present (”Aww that’s nice”. Agreed Polly, agreed.). I also can’t help but love the line “We’re all cull with practicing the dark arts to solve our problem right?” So our heroes get the proper summoning horn, thing to go with the horn and some candles.. i’ts not part of the ritual but Anne says it helps with ambience and it’s right. 

So our heroes summon the Chikalisk, an edltich god that’s naturally basalisk in all but name, which dosen’t attack unless attacked and goes after gold. So they fake some golden presents, and the beast attacks at the party.. but the town naturally fights back, and our heroes are forced to help fight the monster as it stonifies people. So we get a truly glorious battle sequences as the whole town shows off how badass they are, with Maddie curing people, Sylvia showing she can keep up with Hop Pop and Ivy showing her already established badass bonafieds. It’s just awesome. Also the Mayor uses Toadie as a shield not realizing he’s turned to stone which can only remind me of this. 

Once the townsfolk are freed they get into Chickalisk formation (”We have a formation for that?” “We have a formation for everything!”) And it’s offended enough to just nope out. The townsfolk are depressed though the presents got destroyed and Anne glares the family into coming clean. And while the mayor seems mad at first... he just laughs with everyone taking it in stride: It was boring without them getting into trouble and learning lessons every week, and they missed them.  Ivy likewise dosen’t care about a gift she just missed her boyfriend.. and asks Sprig to take her on a proper date and smooches him on the cheek leaving both him and Anne catatonic, with Polly dragging Anne away and sprig just falling over before Maddie hits him with the potion. It dosen’t work that way, end episode. 

Return To Wartwood was a standout episode, with tons of great jokes, pacing and a nice plot that showed growth in anne. While Night Drivers was decent, this was the show at it’s : Sweet, deranged and adventurous all in one episode. While Night Drivers was a good appitizer this was one hell of an entree. Or an appetizer sampler which I often use as an entree. Great episode and a nice high note to start on. 

Next Time: We get an Ivy focused episode!

And Hop Pop is finally forced to own up to his lies!

As the twin kermits sooth you if you liked this review, follow me for more, check the amphibia tag for more reviews from this season and join me on patreon. If I get another patreon, i’ll add reviewing season 1 to my 25 dollar stretch goal so look out for that and my next one at 20 dollars, only 5 dollars away, nets a monthly review of a darkwing duck episode. Check it out and i’ll see you at the next rainbow. 

[mallowstep]

(Reedwhisker anon)

The Erin's don't say and Reedwhisker is made an apprentice around the same time Ashfur and Ferncloud were, thereabouts I'd expect. (Both Brindleface and Mistyfoot were pregnant at the same time. I think Brindle's litter is a moon or 2 older though. Idk.) But he has been through ALOT. When I realized Mistyfoot didn't mention her kits in Canon I assumed those whose bones were mixed in with Bonehill, but then I noticed Reedwhisker in TNP and investigated him, found out he was Reedpaw, Misty's kit, and had the same thoughts you did. Mistyfoot, who wouldn't stop training Featherpaw even though she, too, was starved? Mistyfoot who watched her brother die but kept on going for Stormpaw and Featherpaw? Like...forget her own son in Canon? Like she would have told Grey and Fire to take Feather and Storm and she'd have gone back for her son. Her only surviving kit. She made him her fucking deputy, a mother's love is literally the MOST painful life a leader receives. In Misty AU, there is no Choice. It sucks, it's fucking painful, but Featherpaw is dying and they need to get out. But I can also see Reedpaw being the one of the few cats desensitized to EVERYTHING when Tigerstar loses all his nine lives? Man, I can even see him say "Oh...so this has happened now too. Can anything else get more fucked up?" Especially in Leopard AU. He's. Well in that one, he's seen and heard some shit. Now a leader's had all nine lives ripped from them with one blow and all clans have three days to get the fuck out or else? And Shadowclan just...flees back to their territory after trashing Riverclan's, their leader and medicine cat aren't talking (not that he can blame Leopardstar, he hates Mudfur too, by now.) He doesn't have a mentor anymore. (Not that Blackfoot really was one.) And he still hasn't seen his mother, or Feather, or Storm. But yay, his dad can actually treat him like he's his son again? So...that's something, I guess. Misty AU, after the Bloodclan battle, finding out his mom's pregnant with that monster's kits, like Twanypaw wasn't enough of a reminder. Tbh, I think he'd honestly have some beef with Twany. "You willingly gave up your mom, who loves you, and your brother, who also loves you and joined a fucking monster? Are you for real right now?" (In either AU, this warrior WOULD definitely have interrupted the Gathering once Blackstar announced Twanypelt's kits names. "You're letting her settle an innocent with that name, giving THAT Monster a fucking Legacy, and burdening her son with THE SAME SHIT SHE LEFT THUNDERCLAN FOR SHADOWCLAN FOR? ARE YOU FOR FUCKING REAL? BECAUSE THERE NEEDS TO BE A GOOD TIGER-WHATEVER THE FUCK? SHE'S A FUCKING SHITTY QUEEN, AND YOU'RE A SHITTY LEADER, BLACKSTAR.") Just...Reedpaw telling Stone or Misty everything he saw and heard that night Feathervand her escaped, Leopardstar's first death, how she struggled against Tigerstar and "he just held her head in the river and looked at her like she was a kit he was chastising." He shakes as he says this, choking on the last words, and Mudfur has to bring him poppy seeds to help him sleep that night. He gives me feels. In Canon he survives Tigerclan, Bloodclan, the destruction of the forest, the journey to the lake, the Great Battle, and now this whole no Starclan thing. If there was ever someone who needed therapy it's him...and I can't really see Reedwhisker being the type to think Misty didn't love him. He knows he was relatively safe compared to Feather and Storm, and...tbh I think he'd tell Misty she made the right choice. And I think that would probably break Mistyfoot's heart more in all three AUs then anything else. Feather's, too. (She's too kind, I swear.)

/nm but for the future if y'all don't mind trying to include some paragraph breaks for your local adhder that would be Appreciated. ik on the old ask box it's not possible but. if you're using the new one i really struggle with text walls. (it's ironic bc i tend to write them but.)

okay. gonna do sentence my sentence thing.

The Erin's don't say and Reedwhisker is made an apprentice around the same time Ashfur and Ferncloud were, thereabouts I'd expect.

(Both Brindleface and Mistyfoot were pregnant at the same time. I think Brindle's litter is a moon or 2 older though. Idk.)

But he has been through ALOT.

When I realized Mistyfoot didn't mention her kits in Canon I assumed those whose bones were mixed in with Bonehill, but then I noticed Reedwhisker in TNP and investigated him, found out he was Reedpaw, Misty's kit, and had the same thoughts you did.

Mistyfoot, who wouldn't stop training Featherpaw even though she, too, was starved?

Mistyfoot who watched her brother die but kept on going for Stormpaw and Featherpaw?

Like...forget her own son in Canon?

Like she would have told Grey and Fire to take Feather and Storm and she'd have gone back for her son. Her only surviving kit.

She made him her fucking deputy, a mother's love is literally the MOST painful life a leader receives.

In Misty AU, there is no Choice. It sucks, it's fucking painful, but Featherpaw is dying and they need to get out.

But I can also see Reedpaw being the one of the few cats desensitized to EVERYTHING when Tigerstar loses all his nine lives?

Man, I can even see him say "Oh...so this has happened now too. Can anything else get more fucked up?"

Especially in Leopard AU.

He's.

Well in that one, he's seen and heard some shit.

Now a leader's had all nine lives ripped from them with one blow and all clans have three days to get the fuck out or else?

And Shadowclan just...flees back to their territory after trashing Riverclan's, their leader and medicine cat aren't talking (not that he can blame Leopardstar, he hates Mudfur too, by now.)

He doesn't have a mentor anymore.

(Not that Blackfoot really was one.)

And he still hasn't seen his mother, or Feather, or Storm.

But yay, his dad can actually treat him like he's his son again?

So...that's something, I guess.

Misty AU, after the Bloodclan battle, finding out his mom's pregnant with that monster's kits, like Twanypaw wasn't enough of a reminder.

Tbh, I think he'd honestly have some beef with Twany.

"You willingly gave up your mom, who loves you, and your brother, who also loves you and joined a fucking monster? Are you for real right now?"

(In either AU, this warrior WOULD definitely have interrupted the Gathering once Blackstar announced Twanypelt's kits names.

"You're letting her settle an innocent with that name, giving THAT Monster a fucking Legacy, and burdening her son with THE SAME SHIT SHE LEFT THUNDERCLAN FOR SHADOWCLAN FOR? ARE YOU FOR FUCKING REAL?

BECAUSE THERE NEEDS TO BE A GOOD TIGER-WHATEVER THE FUCK?

SHE'S A FUCKING SHITTY QUEEN, AND YOU'RE A SHITTY LEADER, BLACKSTAR.")

Just...Reedpaw telling Stone or Misty everything he saw and heard that night Feathervand her escaped, Leopardstar's first death, how she struggled against Tigerstar and "he just held her head in the river and looked at her like she was a kit he was chastising."

He shakes as he says this, choking on the last words, and Mudfur has to bring him poppy seeds to help him sleep that night. He gives me feels.

In Canon he survives Tigerclan, Bloodclan, the destruction of the forest, the journey to the lake, the Great Battle, and now this whole no Starclan thing.

If there was ever someone who needed therapy it's him...and I can't really see Reedwhisker being the type to think Misty didn't love him.

He knows he was relatively safe compared to Feather and Storm, and...tbh I think he'd tell Misty she made the right choice.

And I think that would probably break Mistyfoot's heart more in all three AUs then anything else.

Feather's, too. (She's too kind, I swear.)

okay cool let's start at the top. i love u anon just want u to know. everything u send me about this makes me feel so many things. my beloved. <3

re reedwhisker's age: unless/until i get a confirmation that he was apprenticed, etc., on page, or an erin statement about it, i'm maintaining my position. he doesn't show up in asir which you would 100% expect him to, and asir was published june 2020, which means reedwhisker as mistystar's surviving kit was known, which means that i really don't think he was born yet. like i really, really, really think that someone mistakenly went, "well, mistyfoot had a litter in tpb, so reedwhisker was a part of that litter," and we've all just been operating under that assumption.

(open to changing that opinion on evidence. i just need a source -- an erin statement, author chat, blogclan, a book, w/e, just something that will confirm when reedwhisker was actually born.)

because like -- ferncloud is nearly a year older than the bramble, storm, primrose, etc., so i don't know. there's no good timeline. reedwhisker appears as a fully grown warrior in twilight. so. heck if i know.

like there's no way mistyfoot would leave him behind? there's no way he wouldn't want to reunite with stormfur and feathertail and his mom? like he would be in asir, right? i'm not crazy? of all cats?

scream.

but moving on from my open anger re. the reedpaw problem;

i mean -- to be clear, mistyfoot and featherpaw are in riverclan from the beginning of tigerclan to the end in the misty au. no escapes are made. so even if reedpaw was alive, they're there. unlike the other aus, the misty au is Defined by yours truly because i'm actually writing it. so none of that angst, just the -- pain of watching the fall.

hnng.

and yeah he's just. so done and over everything.

and oh my god like -- he thinks he's Very alone in the leopard au. because he doesn't -- oh my god. and when they show up in riverclan again it's great but also -- he's been alone witnessing all of this Shit holy god i swear.

mistyfoot is...not Really visibly pregnant until after tigerclan, and he wouldn't be close enough to smell it, so yeah -- he'd still be surprised. or maybe. not surprised so much as. argh. you know like. he doesn't want to face it.

i like the idea of him having this very complex but entirely one-sided relationship to tawny. like, they went through some pretty similar stuff, but she chose it, and embraced it, and that's. you know. and she doesn't really think of him because she doesn't Know that like. mistyfoot is his mom.

and yes more people calling out tawnypelt's terrible naming decisions. i mean i love the angst it gives me for writing purposes and tigerheart is my favourite husband in warriors (he's so in love with his wife i love him for that), but yeah. what.

and oh my god like -- he would be the one to explain things. because -- i mean because he's scared and alone and is the only one who saw this and hasn't been able to say anything and he finally sees his family and Safe and. they're all watching him like "oh shit how the fuck did it get worse after we left" and oh-

all of these cats need therapy.

[ID: text that reads "5. Hawkwing and Frecklewish invent therapy." /end ID]

(a chapter title from "Heathertail's School for Attractive, Murderous She-Cats")

and yes. yes yes he would. i bet mistyfoot would apologize and he would be like -

no, why are you apologizing? i was safe, you weren't

and he wasn't really safe but seeing him just -- seeing how he just has this. i dunno how to say it. but when mistyfoot sees him and how's he's just had to grapple with this and oh.

she would be so upset.

<3

[bgnmagic]

Whiskered Away

Summary: Arthur gets sent out to see the world after angering the King. He's not given much notice and is literally escorted out of the kingdom. Merlin was away visiting his mum at the time and is very upset to learn of his journey without him. So, Merlin sets off to find Arthur, he has to make sure the clotpole survives his adventure away from Camelot. Enough times passes that both Arthur and Merlin change in appearance.Why shave when you're on an adventure?  Beware beards abound!! XD -- Merlin could hardly believe his eyes, there, on the dirt path not fifty paces ahead of him was Arthur. The past two months of searching for his friend and failing had finally come to an end. Sighing in relief Merlin called out Arthur’s name. However, he was exhausted and the wind carried his weak voice away before it reached the intended target. Blast it all Merlin would have to run to catch him now.

Trying again he yelled louder, this at least got Arthur to stop the horse he was riding. Then, Arthur turned around and Merlin skidded to a halt. Life was apparently cruel, the man who turned had a scruffy beard and his blond hair was too long. It wasn’t Arthur after all.

Breathing heavily from running so fast Merlin worked to catch his breath. “Sorry – sorry I thought you were – someone else,” he managed. “I didn’t mean to shou--.” Merlin didn’t finish his thought as he gaped at the man before him. The blue eyes currently staring at him in shock were definitely Arthur’s, maybe it was really him. Renewed hope sprang through his veins. Merlin stumbled forward slightly and continued to look longingly at his prince.

“Merlin?!” Arthur exclaimed after a few seconds. “Dear gods man you don’t look like yourself at all!”

In hindsight Merlin had forgotten his own appearance. He’d foregone shaving on his journey as well. Unsure what his hair looked like Merlin self-consciously pat it down. “Sire,” he offered by way of an answer.

Arthur simply barked out a laugh and jumped off his horse, the other men he was with also halted and observed with neutral expressions. Merlin found himself being drawn into a strong, blessedly warm hug a moment later. Wrapping his arms around Arthur’s back Merlin allowed his mind to still. It had been a hard journey thus far to find Arthur, and now it was over.

“What are you doing here? Did you not get my note?” Arthur asked once they’d separated.

“Note? Wha? No, I’ve been searching for you since Uther sent you away when I was visiting my mum!” Merlin exclaimed, still upset at what Uther had done.

“Have you been trying to find me this whole time? Merlin, it’s been nearly two months!”

Nodding sheepishly Merlin let out a big breath, “I came back from my mum’s only to find out you’d been sent on some bizarre character building quest. I left before I even found out all the details.”

“There isn’t much to tell Merlin, father got mad at me for defending a good cause during a council meeting and decided I needed to learn more respect and sent me away to see more of the world.”

“How much more?!” Merlin lamented. “This is Germania for heaven’s sake. It took me nearly a month to even get on this bloody continent.”

“Ahh yes, well you didn’t have the lovely escort of knights I did to take me to the coast and make sure I got on a boat, did you?” Arthur grumbled.

“What did you say in your note?” Merlin asked suddenly curious of what he’d missed.

“Nothing truly special only that I had knights with me for protection and for you not to worry. I know how you get. I only intended to go as far as France but I got a little distracted.”

Smiling slightly at how Arthur would find purpose even when he’d clearly been trying to spite his father. “Now what?” Merlin asked as he glanced around to the other men in his small party. “I don’t think those are the knights you left with,” he noted with a raised eyebrow.

“Huh? Oh, the knights, yes, I ditched them as soon as the boat landed. Boring lot they were not very adventurous. Never mind them I found new friends, join us; we were attempting to find a camp site for the night. Do you not have a horse?”

“I’m not royalty like you Arthur, I can’t afford such things.”

“No matter, you can share with me. You look positively worn out. I hardly recognized you with all that hair going every which way.”

“Say’s you, who’s sporting an even fluffy beard than me.”

“You’re not around to shave my face now are you, come along,” Arthur ordered as he pushed them towards his horse.

Introductions were made of the other two men in the company but Merlin was too tired to really latch onto their names. One may have been called Randy and the other sounded like Marcus or Bracus. The only thing Merlin picked up on was one of them kept staring at him. Ignoring the attention Merlin held fast to the back of Arthur’s cloak and focused on not falling off. Now that Merlin was off his feet an overwhelming tiredness took hold.

Merlin managed to stay awake until they found a suitable place to stop and bed down for the night. It probably wouldn’t have been a very nice initial meeting to fall off the horse and crack his head open. Staying quiet Merlin knelt and began to unpack his own things. The other three men seemed to have a routine and Merlin was slightly jealous he’d been left out. Arthur was his friend but now he felt oddly out of place.

Wondering what he could help with Merlin forced his aching limbs to move as he stood. “Can I hel--.” Merlin’s breath caught in his throat mid-sentence. The man, Marcus or something, the one who’d kept staring at him had just used magic to light the fire. Absolutely no one seemed to care and that made Merlin very uncomfortable.

In a panic he glanced towards Arthur who was putting up a makeshift tent.  Had he not seen? With wide eyes Merlin whipped his head back around to Marcus. The man still had his head bent down and was carrying on like it was perfectly normal to use magic out in the open.

“What, Merlin?” Arthur asked as he spun around. “Sit down, you look like you’re about to fall over.”

“Shouldn’t I – help?” Merlin tried again attempting to not look nervous.

Arthur, damn him, picked up on his distress and crossed the short distance between them in a two quick strides. “You need to sit down, I don’t want you falling into the fire,” he replied while reaching out to guide him down to the ground.

“Sorry, I think I startled him starting the fire.” The other sorcerer offered by way of explanation.

“Oh shit, yeah, Marcus knows magic, um,” Arthur trailed off from his crouched position. “That must be a little jarring to see since, well, because of the laws back home and all,” Arthur finished.

“Magic shouldn’t bother him, he’s like me. I literally meant I started the fire without warning and he flinched, is all.”” Marcus added as he calmly setup a cooking pot over the fire.

Arthur’s full attention was on him an instant. The grip on his arm becoming almost painful as Arthur stared at him. “Is this true?”

Only able to nod due to his nerves, Merlin waited to see what Arthur would do.

“Fuck, Merlin. So you weren’t lying that day when you said you had magic in front of the entire council.” By now Arthur had released his grip and had stood up walking away in a daze.

“It’s no wonder he didn’t tell you Arty, from what you’ve said the punishment for magic back home is nasty,” Marcus supplied.

“How’d you know?” Merlin asked in a hoarse whisper.

“The protection spell you cast on your person is very strong,” said Marcus simply.

“Can I not do anything without the aid of magic!” Arthur bellowed after a beat. “I was in this place for barely a week when I met Marcus. He’s saved my skin several times already and now I’m realizing you’ve done the same thing.”

“Sorry,” Merlin rasped automatically. Hiding his magic for so long had done a number on his mental health. The first reaction to being discovered was fear and the worry of rejection. This was not how he imagined Arthur finding out.

“Oi, I think you might want to tell him it’s alright, he’s lookin’ a little pale,” the man named Randy pointed out as he walked closer and nudged Arthur in the arm.

“What? But he’s lied to me!” Arthur answered in defense. “For years!”

Merlin wanted to say something but he was having a bit of a panic attack. They were all talking about him like he wasn’t even there.

“And what else would he do? You said it yourself Arty, magic users get burned at the stake where you come from.”

Arthur deflated somewhat at that comment. Merlin watched and prayed Arthur would forgive him for lying. It wasn’t like he’d done it out of malice.

“It does fit with all the stories you’ve told us,” Marcus continued on as he cut up a few items for the stew he was making. “Merlin seems like he’s been your magic guardian since you two met.”

Merlin couldn’t help but yelp when Arthur suddenly plopped down right next to him on the grass. “You are to tell me everything, and I mean everything when we have a moment alone.”

Sorry was all Merlin could manage as he sat looking at the fire. He didn’t even want to know what came next. Arthur was clearly furious and Merlin didn’t have the energy to deal with it right now.

“He’s still looking a little peaky there, you might wanna tell him he’s not gonna die by your hand,” Randy chimed in.

“You wouldn’t have them burn me would you?” Merlin asked in a rush. Dying by another’s hand would count as Arthur not doing it.  

Arthur groaned and roughly ran his fingers through his beard, “Merlin, I won’t hurt you, no one will. You do realize I’ve spent the last two months hanging out with Marcus and that’s changed my opinion on some things. I’m just fucking pissed that you lied to me so let me deal with that for now okay? ”

The night progressed slowly after that. Merlin didn’t move from his spot but neither did Arthur. They sat nearly touching shoulders and ate in silence. Randy and Marcus went about preparing camp but remained quiet. After what felt like an hour Arthur leaned close and grabbed Merlin’s arm.

“Did you not trust me?” he asked with a pained expression.

Merlin couldn’t shake his head fast enough, “No! it’s not that, I mean I did wonder what you’d do to me if you found out, considering how the king feels about magic but I do trust you, I swear it!”

“Then why keep it from me?”

“I was scared, it’s not like I could go back in time to undo things if it didn’t work out. Every time I wanted to tell you, something would happen and you’d hate magic even more.”

“Oh, Merlin,” Arthur murmured. The prince sighed heavily and let go, letting his hand drop to the ground.

Nothing more was said after that, Merlin simply watched the flames lick at the wood in the fire. Marcus broke the quiet some time later announcing that they should all get some rest. Merlin nodded and went to crawl over to his bedroll, his being the only one out in the elements and not under a small tent.

A hand on his elbow stopped him. “Come on, you can share my tent, the extra body heat will do you good.”

“Are you sure?” Merlin asked of Arthur as he waited for confirmation.

Arthur’s answer was to tug him over to the tent and push his shoulders through the flap. The bedroll was tossed in next and Merlin went about setting it up. The space was small and neither of them would have room to do much else but lie directly next to each other.

It took several, long awkward minutes before they were able to situate. There was no light and Merlin could only feel the puffs of breaths coming from Arthur. He was too upset to sleep despite his tiredness. What if things didn’t go back to the way they were? Merlin didn’t think he could live life on edge like this; it was no different than hiding his magic. He was always in the wrong it seemed.

“If you don’t sleep Merlin, you’ll regret it in the morning,” Arthur huffed quietly.

“I can’t,” Merlin whispered back.

“Still scared of what I think of your magic?”

“Yes,” Merlin offered quickly.

“What exactly are you worried about?”

“I don’t want things to change between us.”

Arthur sighed deeply before he responded, “They’ve already changed Merlin that was inevitable.”

“Oh, -- what will happen to me when we go back?”

“You’d willingly go back with me knowing the laws of Camelot?” Arthur asked.

“You were, are, my friend Arthur. I have faith that you’ll become a great king in the future and I want to do my part in helping you achieve that goal.”

“With magic, I suppose?”

“With whatever it takes, magic, being there for you, anything you need.”

Merlin, why do you insist upon being so damned kind hearted!” Arthur exclaimed in a forced whisper.

“I just told you, clotpole.” Merlin was unprepared for the arm that flew out and smacked his ribs. Gasping at the sting he tried to figure out if Arthur was still mad at him or not.

“Cheeky bugger, listen, we are still talking later about all of this, but for now you need to rest. I can’t have my manservant falling over on our next quest.”

“Of course my lord,” Merlin offered with just a hint of sarcasm, he didn’t want to push his luck.

Arthur snorted in response, perhaps his tactics were working. “Idiot, go to sleep. We can talk more in the morning.”

Closing his eyes Merlin hoped his brain would slow down enough to actually accomplish something akin to sleep. “Sorry for lying, I didn’t mean to upset you,” he offered humbly in one last effort to make Arthur understand his feelings.

“Merlin, I forgive you, but seriously go to fucking sleep,” Arthur ordered with another light shove to his ribs.

Upon order of his future king Merlin temporarily let go of his worries and drifted off.

--

“Arty – Arthur?”

Taking a deep breath Arthur lifted his head to see who had called his name. Most likely Marcus since he was the only one that called him Arty. “S’everything okay?” he asked once he spotted the other man peering in through the tent flap.

“That’s what I was going to ask you, it’s nearly midday and you both are still asleep.”

Turning to check on Merlin, Arthur noted that he was still in a deep slumber. He’d looked exhausted the night before it was no wonder Merlin was sleeping so well now. Suddenly the thought came to Arthur that Merlin might be ill. Reaching out he felt Merlin’s forehead, the temperature seemed normal.

“Sorry for being late, I’ll get him up and we’ll get going.”

Marcus held up his hand and shook his head, “No need, he clearly needed to recoup. Let him rest we can take today to prepare for the mission.”

Arthur agreed and lay back down.  He could hear Marcus’ footsteps outside but it was peaceful otherwise. Rolling over slightly Arthur took the time to really check on Merlin. The young man had turned over during the night and was asleep on his stomach. The journey Merlin had taken so far had tanned his pale skin, it also added a few wrinkles here there, but that may have been stress induced.

Wondering whether Merlin’s magic would change things for the worse, Arthur began to think of all the times he’d made it out of a situation that should have killed him. After a few minutes he had to stop, it was alarming how often Merlin had been there, a seemingly innocent bystander, when he was nothing of the like.

After spending two months with Marcus, Arthur’s views on magic had changed.  They’d been thrown together at the right moment and Arthur had been unable to hate the man. He was a good person, just like Merlin. The first few weeks were rough trying to adapt to trusting in someone with magic but Arthur had persevered.  Now it seemed fate had simply prepared him for Merlin’s reality. One with magic.

Unsure of how he would have reacted back home Arthur hoped he would have been open minded, but that wasn’t a given. Uther’s hatred of anything magic had permeated his very being from a young age. That sort of conditioning was hard to shake.  

“Shit! Oh, it’s just you,” Merlin exclaimed suddenly.

Arthur had flinched when Merlin awoke but his friend hadn’t commented on it yet. Good, maybe he didn’t see.  “Yes, its me, who did you think it would be?”

Merlin yawned and stretched, almost like a cat, before rolling over on his back. “I wasn’t sure; I just saw the fuzzy beard and forgot it was you.”

“I’m not a barbarian Merlin, no need to excite yourself.”

“More like Neanderthal,” Merlin muttered around another yawn.

“What?! Merlin!” Arthur shouted before dragging the groggy man closer and giving him a noogie. Merlin shouted in surprise but could only squirm to get away, Arthur was stronger. “You were saying?”

“I yield!” Merlin yelled a second later.

The moment Arthur released his hold Merlin bolted up and crawled out of the tent, apparently he was awake now. Smirking at how he missed picking on his manservant, Arthur followed him out into the open air. Might as well get the day started. They had an attack to plan.

--

Merlin fell to the ground panting heavily, he was so tired. Having gone off in search of Arthur months earlier, Merlin had never dreamed he’d be able to stand by his prince’s side and use magic openly. Well, he wasn’t currently standing at the moment; he was working on not passing out. Hands on his shoulder forced Merlin to look up. Arthur was there in his line of vision grinning like a loon.

“We did it, we won Merlin!” Arthur exclaimed.

Happy that Arthur was safe and seemingly not upset at seeing Merlin use a massive amount of magic, he toppled over in the grass and smiled.

“Hey, don’t pass out; are you going to pass out? Shit, Merlin are you alright?” Arthur asked in a panic.

“M’fine, let me rest, we just took down an entire army of men.”

“I couldn’t have done it without you or your magic.”

Relief flooded over Merlin, Arthur truly accepted him, magic and all. Marcus’ voice sounded off in the distance, he sounded happy as well. Arthur had extended his trip away from home in order to help Marcus rid his village of invaders. The other sorcerer had seen in Arthur what Merlin always knew was there, a great leader and good man.

Despite Marcus being a magic user Arthur had looked past his feelings on the matter and offered to help. Merlin’s heart swelled in pride at the thought. Camelot would have a great and gracious king when the time came.  Letting his eyes slip closed Merlin let the warmth of the sun touch his skin. The next task was the journey home. It was time.

--

“I still don’t see why you haven’t let me shave that thing off your face yet,” Merlin sighed as they rode along towards Camelot. “You let me trim your hair when we arrived a week ago, why wait on this?”

“I think it’s a good disguise don’t you? No one seems to know who I am,” Arthur answered smirking. “Besides, I didn’t want to bother until we were closer to home. It’s hard enough to keep things trimmed and maintained with the proper supplies, let alone in the middle of the woods.”

“I can use my magic Arthur; its how I keep my stubble in check.”

“Yes, yes, but you have a baby face, it’s understandable that you need to use such measures.”  

“Excuse me? I have a what?”

“You heard me, a baby face, soft and --.” Arthur stopped talking when Merlin’s eyes glowed gold and he felt a soft brush of air to his face. “What did you do?” he demanded looking down only to see his blond whiskers scattered across his lap. “Merlin!”

Ripping his gloves off Arthur reached up and still felt his beard in some places. Confused as to what Merlin had done he spurred his horse forward to catch up. “What did you do to me?”

“Nothing terrible sire, I simply cleaned up your beard. I think the new look is quite dashing.”

Feeling his face one more, Arthur could trace the hair along his jaw line, up the sides of his mouth, and across his upper lip. “Did you give me a goatee?”

“Sort of, it’s closer to how Gwaine wears his but I’ve bothered to make yours look kingly.”

“You better not be teasing me Merlin.”

“Never sire, don’t forget I have to look at you too, is there any harm in making the view appealing?”

“Hey! You said my beard looked good!”

“It did, but this is better,” Merlin laughed before sticking out his tongue and spurring his horse onward.

Arthur couldn’t exactly catch Merlin, it didn’t matter they were nearly home.  He’d have enough time to torment his servant later. For now Arthur was content to return to a normal routine. The only thing left to figure out was whether or not to keep his beard.

[amiandthechaos]

fire has no shadow, but you have me

Leo is not hiding this personal moment with a mask of light-hearted comments or jokes. So Nico won't shy away from it, either.

"I'm glad you want to come back." He summons courage harder than it takes him to summon an army of skeletons, and he leans his head on Leo's shoulder.

They remain like that for a while, Leo's hand covering his and Nico's head resting on Leo, and Nico had never felt so safe outside of camp and he wonders if it can last.

It starts with a blinding flash of light. And at this point, Nico has seen enough of those to know that it can't be anything good.

And he couldn't be less prepared for it. He was just lying on the grass under the sun, getting more vitamin D on doctor's orders.

And of course, his doctor is right there next to him. Will insists Nico needs more sun, and Nico begrudgingly agrees because at least his skin color is returning to normal and he sleeps better at night. Not well, but better.

He feels warm and drowsy while Will's voice fills the silence by talking about music and bands. Nico hasn't really had time to listen to music in the last… decade. But he appreciates Will's suggestions, however disconcerting they may be.

And then he feels it. The sun's getting hotter, which doesn't make sense since it was supposed to be going down soon, and when he opens his eyes, it's there.

His senses heighten, every nerve suddenly into overdrive, and Will is already on his feet, hauling him up and dragging him away.

But it's too late, Nico thinks. It's coming way too fast.

He still runs, but not for long before the crash is heard. It's not as big as he imagined. It's not Armageddon, it's not the end of the world, but it is something.

Nico spins around, making Will stumble, but he's glad he did because he immediately recognizes something that makes his heart thud painfully.

A bronze wing.

He breaks free from Will's grip and runs back towards the mess of fire that's still burning in a big pile. Will yells out his name but then he and some others are right behind him, slow realization dawning on all the campers.

Even among the flames and smoke, Nico can see the broken-down body of Festus the dragon.

"Where's Leo?" Will asks and Nico was thinking the same thing but with each passing second his heart sinks more and more. Leo's fireproof, his mind supplies, and still the fear that he might have burnt to a crisp seems far more real.

Nico looks around wildly. "Can't anyone summon water?! Where's fucking Percy Jackson when you need him?!"

Everyone seems to click into motion, moving around to help. Nico focuses back on the fire. Perhaps he can make a hole on the earth below and pull Leo out?

He tries to feel the presence and a more sinister thought enters his mind. Maybe he was never alive. Maybe Festus just brought Leo's body here.

The fire is receding a bit, but it's still hard to see beyond the flames and reflective bronze. A moment later, three different people shout to make room. From the right, Chris Rodríguez and a bunch of dryads are bringing in buckets of water from the lake. From the left, Leo's siblings from the Hephaestus cabin are running with Harley at the front, all dressed up in a full metal welding suit that the others are still trying to attach to him.

And then, from very far away there's Paolo Montes waving a hose.

Harley gets there first, and he would have thrown himself on the fire if Nyssa Barrera hadn't stopped him.

"Wait! The suit is not sealed yet!"

And then it came. Nico gasps and almost stumbles backwards with the force of it and everyone looks at him, alarmed.

But Nico's eyes are fixed on the blazing heat.

The metal rumbles and pieces fall to the floor, and from the very center of Festus' belly, Leo Valdez's head pops up, his hair wild and moving along with the flames.

He looks around at the dozens of shocked faces and finally settles for a toothy grin.

"Hello. Bit hot today, no?"

This time Will had to stop Nico from jumping into the fire and slapping Leo in the face.

.

Nico had been spending some of his time hanging out in the infirmary since Will was there a lot, teaching healing practices to other campers because, in his words 'With the number of dangerous situations demigods get into, the Apollo cabin can't be the only ones who know basic first aid.'

And now he was there a lot because he was in charge of organising the queue to punch Leo and Leo was there getting patched up.

He had never been very close to Leo. At least not the way he was close to Hazel or even Percy at some point. But over their time aboard the Argo II, they had at least shared some kind of kinship a few times, especially when Nico realized how much of a seventh wheel Leo had been feeling, and how similar that was to how Nico himself felt in that ship. An eight wheel, to be precise.

And by Gods, did Nico want to hate him. He was insufferably obnoxious, always cracking stupid jokes, and with no shame whatsoever. Nico's worst nightmare.

Until Nico saw through all that for what it really was; Leo's way of keeping people at bay. Diametrically opposed to Nico's way, but a way nonetheless.

Plus, a few times Nico had walked in on Leo sleeping curled up next to the engine and it was hard to hate him after that.

"What happened to Calypso?" Nico asks one morning after the first shift of punchers. Leo had just finished explaining everything he went through, the physician's cure, the trip to Ogygia, rescuing the forgotten sorceress.

His face reddens somewhat. "I dropped her off inland in Europe. I think it was Croatia. She um… She wanted to see the world."

Nico doesn't want to push it if Leo's reluctant to discuss it but he had imagined that after all of that he and Calypso would be together.

Leo shrugs and then winces as his left shoulder is still injured from the fall. His skin was thankfully all untouched thanks to his abilities but his clothes all turned to ashes. That was the most awkward part of the rescue. "I get it. She was tied to that island for thousands of years, I can't blame her for wanting to be free and not tied to something or someone else now." He sounds sad, but also braver than Nico had ever seen him. "I promised to rescue her and I'm glad I did."

Nico nodded. He raised his hand, planning to pat Leo's shoulder but regretting it at the last second and landing awkwardly on the pillow next to him. "That's the demigod life."

Leo smiles one of his huge smiles and nudges Nico's hand with his shoulder. "That, and catapulting annoying augurs up in the sky. Tell me again how you launched Octavian up to meet me."

Nico rolls his eyes. "I didn't launch him."

.

Since communication was still down on all fronts, Leo couldn't let anyone at Camp Jupiter know that he hadn't actually died, so he decided to just make the journey.

Him and a few other campers sat at a table trying to figure out the best method to get him there.

"Festus would take at least a month to rebuild again," Leo sighs, genuinely depressed about the topic. "I can't let the others wait that long for Admiral Valdez's resurrection."

Everyone groans. Leo had been bragging for days about how he was basically the modern version of Jesus of Nazareth.

"What about a jetpack? My design is nearly ready!" Harley exclaims excitedly.

Leo ruffles Harley's hair. "Oh Harley, I'd rather let Zeus zoom me halfway across the globe again. I saw your designs and I think fuel tanks like those would send me on my way to an explosion even I couldn't survive."

"You could take a bus?" Kayla says. "Cheaper than an airplane."

"I will take you."

It almost takes Nico a second to realize the words came out of his mouth, especially when they all look at him like that.

"Nico, are you sure that's a good idea?" Will asks, his golden eyebrows furrowed in concern.

"I shadow-travelled from Europe with a ten-foot statue and two others. I think I can handle Leo from here to California."

"I feel like that was a jab at my stature," Leo says into the silence.

Nico smirks.

.

The Hephaestus cabin organized a congratulations-for-not-being-dead/going-away campfire for Leo. Nico usually didn't attend campfires, but Will had dragged him to a couple and this one seemed to be more up his alley, with less corny songs and more people making fun of Leo.

Plus, Pollux had appeared with a few bottles of homemade wine and the results were entertaining.

Will was, no surprise, a very touchy drunk, which made Nico uncomfortable but not as much as he would have thought. He lets Will rest his head on his shoulder when he says that the world is spinning.

Leo chugs more wine and tells another joke and people laugh harder even though it makes no sense, and that's when Sherman Yang decides they've all had too much.

"Okay, let's pack it up, people. Leo has a long day tomorrow and we all have target practice."

Some groan, a few giggle, most don't react and just let themselves be dragged away after patting Leo on the back and wishing him luck.

No one tells Leo to leave, perhaps because after helping defeat Gaia, coming back from the dead, rescuing an unrescuable ancient sorceress and then surviving yet another explosion, no one felt like they had much authority over him.

Will, held by Kayla on one side, turns around to look at Nico. "Are you coming?"

Nico looks over at Leo, who chooses that moment to fall backwards from his log. "I think I'll stay and make sure he doesn't die."

Will smiles crookedly. "Aw, you're taking care of someone. I've taught you well."

"Shut up."

Leo manages to sit up and realizes he and Nico are alone, the fire slowly dying between them. "Are you cold? I can make more fire."

He opens his palms towards the flames but Nico rushes over and stops him. "No no. Don't drink and summon fire. Didn't you see the safety video on your first day here? Dionysus had a whole section about wine safety."

Leo snorts a laugh. "No. When I arrived everything was very rushed. I never met Mr. D"

Nico nods. Leo must have heard that name from Percy. Nico wonders if Percy got the letter they sent telling him that Leo was alive. It was Will's idea to use regular mortal mail, but even being in the same estate as Percy wouldn't guarantee that he'll receive the letter. Strange things happened to demigods' correspondence in the postal service.

"You know, this is the first time I drink wine." Leo waves his plastic cup, stained burgundy.

"Really?" Nico asks. "Not even sips as a kid?"

Leo shakes his head and his curls move with it. "Mexican moms don't really believe in that."

Nico had been drinking wine since he was very young. "I always used to have dinner with my family."

"Maybe that's why you're not drunk."

"Or maybe because I'm not eighty pounds and had ten glasses"

"Hey!" Leo protests and then he is silent as he sizes Nico up with a look that makes Nico wish he could blend in with the shadows. "How are you already taller than me? It's not fair."

That makes Nico smile. "Get used to it, Valdez."

They stay in silence for a while longer, which must be a record coming from Leo. He pulls out a small device from his pocket and starts to tinker with it, not even looking at it. He seems thoughtful, as though he's trying to figure out a different device than the one in his hands.

"I heard something from Drew yesterday," Leo says, a little too quiet to be the start of a joke. Nico's heart starts racing. He knew people would talk, and he knew Leo and all his friends would find out eventually, but he never thought Leo would want to talk to him about it.

He presents Nico with his closed fist as if he wanted Nico to bump it and Nico can only frown.

"This is for telling Percy he isn't your type. What a boss move."

It takes a second, but Nico throws his head back and laughs. The first time he's properly laughed in a long time, but it just takes him completely by surprise that this is what Leo has to say on the subject.

He bumps Leo's fist as his laughter dies down and he shakes his head in disbelief.

Leo can't seem to stop smiling, but in this drunk, lazy way that makes him seem a bit more down to earth.

This isn't a mask, Nico thinks.

Leo sways and his shoulder grazes Nico's. "If it makes you feel any better, I get it. Like, who hasn't thought Percy's hot? Like, objectively, you know? They're tall and conventionally attractive and stupidly heroic-"

"They?" Nico asks, not really wanting to interrupt Leo's tirade but confused by his wording.

"Percy and Jason. Everyone has crushes on them, right? And you kind of want to hate them because like, shit man, you look like that and you fly, and you're ridiculously friendly and like noble and stuff? Just stop it. You know? But you can't hate them because they're really nice to you and they don't deserve it. But it's nothing to be ashamed of, you know?"

Nico blinks a few times, Leo's confession of basically having a crush on Jason in particular, hitting him like an electrical shock that left him short-circuited. If Leo was sober he probably wouldn't have said anything, so Nico wonders if he should feel bad for letting Leo say something so personal in this state of vulnerability.

But he doesn't. Because it's the first time someone tells him they understand him and actually give reasons and examples why, not just an empty attempt at empathy. He hopes Leo doesn't regret telling him this.

"They are so stupidly noble. I hate that," Nico says.

Leo stands up on wobbly legs. "Oh look at me I'm the son of a famous, powerful God and I can control the elements and I have light-colored eyes and a dreamy smile. Who am I?"

Nico has to laugh again because Leo is pulling a full-on performance pretending to fly like Jason or raise the sea like Percy and it makes Nico feel lighter than he has in probably years. He can laugh about it now. He can let it go.

Leo stumbles around the fire and even though he'd be fine if he falls in, it still doesn't seem right to let him, so Nico grabs his arm and pulls him away from the danger zone as they both keep laughing.

They sit back down and their knees knock together and Nico doesn't mind.

"Some of that could also describe you," Leo says breathlessly. "Son of a major God. Powerful."

Nico nudges Leo with his arm in acknowledgement. "And you. You can control the elements." He nods towards the fire.

Leo seems relaxed in a way he hadn't seemed to be since he came back.

They remain like that for a while longer, watching the flames get smaller and sitting in comfortable silence. Nico's favorite kind of silence.

"We should probably get some sleep." Nico hates to be the one to say it, but shadow-travelling really is easier when he's rested.

Damn Will. He got inside Nico's head.

Leo lets Nico help him up and then Nico does something that he only does when someone is injured in battle; he wraps one arm around Leo's waist and helps him walk. Leo throws his arm over Nico's shoulders.

As they walk away from the campfire, Leo sighs happily. "Have you ever noticed that fire doesn't have a shadow?"

.

Nico was right when he thought that travelling with Leo would be less tiring than the last shadow trip he had done.

That didn't mean it was easier.

"Y'all should've told me we'd be coming here." Leo digs into his plate of ribs, sauce all over his face. "I'd've made some reservations."

Nico sends him a death glare. He's good at those.

Leo had decided to adopt a heavy southern accent ever since they landed in Oklahoma instead of Kansas like Nico had been planning. Nico's ears were going to bleed from over-stimulation.

The food was good, though.

Leo inhales deeply and sighs contentedly. "We're so close to Texas, I can feel it."

"We're always close to Texas. That state is inescapable. I think its gravity drew us off course."

Leo pulls out two wet hand towels from his magic pouch- as Nico has started to call it much to Leo's annoyance- and then he warms them up by heating his hands. He has a much more sophisticated control on his fire abilities than Nico remembered.

Leo hands one to Nico while he himself wipes basically his entire face and arms. "Well, we're here now so let's find a spot to sleep tonight. I hope you like camping, Neeks!"

Nico frowns. "You should know I don't. Also, stop it with the Neeks."

Leo smiles. "You have barbecue on your nose."

Nico groans and wipes it off.

.

They end up finding a not-so-terrible spot to spend the night, but the heat in this Hades-forsaken place was so insufferable that they decided not to use sleeping bags and instead hang hammocks, of which Leo procured two from his magic pouch.

"Why in the world do you have hammocks on hand?" Nico asks as he unsuccessfully attempts to tie his to a tree.

"Hammocks are an incredible feat of engineering. You need fabric and weaving that are strong enough to hold you but not so tough that it's hard to sleep. It minimises your travelling load while maximising sleeping space, and it works on all surfaces because it precisely keeps you away from surfaces." Leo comes over and ties Nico's hammock for him. "It also keeps you away from snakes."

Nico blinks at him. "You have a lot of feelings about hammocks."

"They are perfect and need to be more appreciated."

"I've never actually slept in one."

Leo's eyes seem to light up with fire. "Oh I can't believe you're a hammock virgin!"

"Please don't call it that."

"This is going to be great. Shed all your preconceived notions right now and prepare for the best sleeping experience of your life."

Nico would hardly call swinging in the air the best sleeping experience of his life, but considering the things he's been through, it also could be far, far worse.

Leo is too delighted with the swinging and even pushes off against the tree with his foot to go even faster, his hands busy with a mechanical box he's been tinkering with since West Virginia. The movement is making Nico slightly dizzy so he lies as still as possible until the soft swaying actually feels nice, and it seems to be lulling him to sleep faster than anticipated.

He's almost gone when Leo speaks into the silence.

"Nico?"

"Mm?" He opens his eyes and turns to see Leo still swinging madly, almost nervously, under the orange light of the lantern he hung on a branch above. Thank the Gods they're on different trees or the movement would rock Nico's hammock as well. He also decided to remove his t-shirt, which is fine by Nico because then all the mosquitoes would get Leo instead of him.

"You're fifteen, right?" Leo asks.

"Last I checked."

Another pause. "How did you, um… how did you know?"

It takes Nico's sleepy brain a bit to process the question but it still doesn't make much sense. "How did I know what?"

Leo keeps his eyes on his box. "You know… how did you know you… liked boys?"

Suddenly Nico is as alert as the day Leo came crashing down above them.

Usually, Nico would say something snarky and then refuse to discuss the matter entirely, possibly adding about a day's worth of brooding and death glares.

But this question seemed to be a lot less about prying into Nico's business and a lot more about something else.

Nico looked away from Leo nonetheless and kept his eyes on the dark canopy above. "It's kind of hard to ignore when you, you know… when you like someone and that someone is, well, a boy."

Leo's swinging sounds less intense. "Sure. I suppose when it's the only kind of attraction that happens to you, you can't really miss it, can you?"

"Nope," Nico confirms. He could see where Leo's mind was at. "But I guess that if someone was attracted to a lot of different people… it'd be harder to recognize."

"I guess so."

Nico thinks of all the things he wished someone had said to him when he was driving himself mad with questions and confusion, and out of everything, the thing that would have meant the most was very simple.

"And it'd be okay. It'd be more than okay, actually, it'd be great."

Nico can't see it, but he can hear the soft exhale that Leo does when he smiles. The rustling and thudding of his magic pouch follow and then the light is turned off.

"Thank you, Neeks."

"I'm going to murder you."

.

This was the first time in Nico's life that he has managed to leave a camp for more than five minutes without encountering a single being that wanted to kill him. He had been prepared for attacks from the get-go, especially since Leo literally couldn't go two breaths without doing something demigod-like such as warming up their chilaquiles with his bare hands or making weird artefacts appear as if out of thin air.

But this had been the most peaceful trip of his life and it almost felt akin to a vacation. Camping, taking dips in rivers and lakes, eating something different every day (Leo even agreed to go to McDonald's once) and keeping the worrying to a minimum.

It was even nice to be around Leo most of the time. Ever since the other night, he seemed to be making fewer jokes and nervous tinkering than usual. He still did it, because it's part of him, but he seemed more relaxed about it. It wasn't a necessity but a choice.

"What are you going to do once we arrive?" Nico asks one afternoon as they sit on top of a hill and take in the view. They're most likely just a jump away from getting to their destination, and in all honesty, Nico's rested enough that he could manage it that same day.

But he decided to drag this out a bit longer. They stopped just outside of San Francisco at some unknown mountains with enough trees to make it the perfect spot to tie hammocks and, damn it, Nico loves them by now, and he just wants another opportunity to use them while he's still with company. His return trip will be a lot lonelier.

Leo shrugs. "I don't know what Pipes and Jason might be up to. Jason had his plan to make shrines for all the Gods, so I might help him with that. But honestly, I wish they'd come back to Camp Half-Blood."

Nico raises his eyebrows. "Really?"

"Sure. It's the camp me and Piper were meant to be in, all my siblings are there, plus there's the bunker and Festus… I don't want to give it all up."

Nico feels a spark of hope in his chest. Perhaps he won't have to return alone. It's still bittersweet, though, because once Leo rejoins Piper and Jason, things will be different. Piper and Jason are very nice and all, and Nico gets along very well with Jason in particular, but he has a feeling Leo won't be the same with them around.

"And you're there, also," Leo adds.

Nico feels some heat rise to his cheeks and he tries to push it down.

Thankfully, Leo doesn't press it. "What about you? How do you decide which Camp to be in? You were in Camp Jupiter for a while, you have Hazel there, but you're originally Half-Blood and you have Will over there…"

"Will?" Nico asks, surprised that Leo would put him on the same level of importance to Nico as Hazel.

"Well, yes. I assumed you two-"

"Oh, no." Nico must be properly blushing now. "I mean, I don't know. But we're not. He's very nice and I'm glad to have a close friend there but…"

"Well okay, so you'll have two close friends there, then." Leo puts his hand over Nico's and it's the first time they're so purposefully touching like that.

Leo is not hiding this personal moment with a mask of light-hearted comments or jokes. So Nico won't shy away from it, either.

"I'm glad you want to come back." He summons courage harder than it takes him to summon an army of skeletons, and he leans his head on Leo's shoulder.

They remain like that for a while, Leo's hand covering his and Nico's head resting on Leo, and Nico had never felt so safe outside of camp and he wonders if it can last.

.

It turns out it can last. They manage to make it to Camp Jupiter without a single unpleasant encounter. And just when Nico thought they may break Percy's rule about feeling safe, they cross the gates and they are actually safe. Hazel sees them first. She's in full uniform and looking tiny but powerful as always, and her eyes go wide and shiny like dark gemstones.

She drops everything, her spatha, shield, and a book she'd been carrying and she sprints at them. She crushes Leo in a hug and starts weeping immediately.

"You! How? I was- Jason and Piper- ugh!" Each word is punctuated by a sob and a slap on Leo's chest.

Then there's Frank, who is so surprised that he turns into a ferret by mistake but then seizes the opportunity to climb onto Leo's head and claw at his hair with tiny, shrill yelps.

"I missed you too, buddy," Leo says, only grimacing slightly.

When he's back in human form, the bear hug is so engulfing that Leo almost disappears from sight.

Apparently, Piper and Jason are around somewhere but Hazel and Frank are too busy with their new duties that they can't keep track of them. Hazel summons Arion and writes a note, tying it around his neck.

"If you find Piper or Jason, get them here as soon as possible."

And off he goes.

Hazel spends a while telling Leo how much they looked for him the days after the battle back in Camp-Half Blood, which Nico had already done, but not in so much detail. Especially about the extent to which Jason and Piper in particular had driven themselves mad trying to find him, to the point where after weeks of futile search, Percy and Annabeth had to drag them back to camp and eventually convince them to come to California and get their minds off it.

Of course Nico wanted Leo to know they didn't give up on him, that he was missed, but he didn't want him to feel as guilty as he looks right now.

Other people also greeted them, including Reyna who Nico was glad to see. She was looking healthier than before.

Just as they were about to go to the Fifth Cohort to see if anyone knew about Jason or Piper, a loud zoom fills Nico's ears and a blurry second later, Leo is on the ground, tackled by Piper.

Arion neighs and stomps his front legs down before taking off again.

It takes about two minutes of Piper holding onto Leo and crying "I hate you!" before they can stand up. Leo's eyes and face are red too and he can't stop sniffling.

"Explain. Now," Piper orders him, wiping tears off her face.

"I thought we'd wait for Jason," Leo tells her.

Piper sighs. "He's been so moody lately I can't even tell you when he'd be coming back. He's been hard to read."

"Jason? Moody? Are you sure you're not talking about yourself?"

Piper hits Leo.

And then, it happens again. This time is a whooshing sound that gets progressively louder and Nico barely has time to catch a glance of Jason flying at them at full speed before Leo is lifted off his feet and carried away.

Nico typically refrains from showing any emotion other than annoyance in front of others, but even he can't keep a straight face upon seeing Jason and Leo embracing up in the air, clearly crying and laughing at the same time as Jason slowly lowers them to the ground.

Everyone is at least tearing up by the time they make their way towards them, but Nico is okay with it. He's happy for Leo and he doesn't care who sees. Hazel grabs Nico's hand and he squeezes it.

"So," Leo says with a rough voice. "Ready to hear the Tales of Tio Leo?"

.

Nico hadn't realized how much he missed this camp, especially Hazel. He wishes he could be with her year-round or at least visit more often. There should be a faster way to get from one camp to the other.

Eventually, though, the time to return was drawing nearer and it was hard to acknowledge it. Nico still didn't know if Leo was coming back or not and he didn't want to ruin his reunion. He was still so happy to be around Piper and Jason.

Nico sits outside at a table after dinner. They all managed to squeeze in a dinner together before their respective duties took them in different directions. Of course, the only ones who didn't have anything to attend to were Nico and Leo, so it isn't a surprise when Leo returns to the table after saying goodbye to the others.

Leo plays with the candles there, lighting them on and then putting them out over and over. "I was wondering…" he begins and for some reason Nico's heart speeds up.

"Yeah?"

He lights the candles again. "Is Nico short for Nicholas? And if it is, can I call you Saint Nicholas?"

Nico kicks him under the table.

"Ow!"

"Is Leo short for Leonardo? And if so, can I call you Da Vinci?" Nico asks, trying to sound as stupid as Leo had.

"Definitely!" Leo answers, a big smile while still rubbing his leg. "Da Vinci works, though I think I look more like a Di Caprio."

"Who?"

"Nevermind."

Leo is still smiling even after a few seconds. "Da Vinci and Di Angelo. We should form a band."

"Over my dead body," Nico says, but he has to really bite back a smile.

Silence ensues and Nico thinks this would be the right moment to tell Leo that he plans to return the next day. He opens his mouth to speak but as it often happens with speaking, Leo beats him to it.

"So when do we leave, Hermano Hamaca?"

Nico is so confused by that last bit that he doesn't even process the first. "What?"

"Hammock Bro," Leo translates.

"Oh." Leo wants to go back with him? "I thought you'd want to stay with them a bit longer."

He shrugs. "Well, you're the shadow-travelling boss, but if it was up to me I could leave tomorrow. Piper and Jason are working on the shrines and they'll be at Camp Half-Blood soon. I can help from there. I'll miss Hazel and the big guy, but I'll see them again. Plus, it'd be nice to see Percy and Annabeth too, if they got the letter."

Nico nods. "Sure. We can leave tomorrow." He doesn't let it show how happy he is not to be travelling alone, but he still hopes Leo can see it a little bit.

"Hey," Leo puts out a candle with his right hand and lights up another with his left. "Thank you for bringing me here. I know it's a long road trip for something that could have been a phone call in normal circumstances. But even if I could have contacted them somehow, I think I needed to come. See them for myself. So, thank you."

Nico does smile then. "You're welcome. I know I would have liked to see you in person if you hadn't almost killed me on impact when you arrived."

"It's settled, then. We leave tomorrow. Maybe we can stop in Houston this time? I'll show you my mom's old repair garage and the best gorditas you'll ever have in your life."

"Sure," Nico agrees. It might take them a bit longer but it's not as if they have anything else to do. No prophecies to fulfill, no quests to carry out, no world-destruction to stop.

Leo puts his hand over Nico's again and this time Nico turns his hand over and laces their fingers together. Leo's hand is downright hot from playing with the candles so much, but Nico thinks it's nice.

As the candlelight dances in the wind along with Leo's hair, Nico realizes that even though he has always felt safest in the shadows, fire is not too bad either.

[yinyanchan]

Off the Grid

This was a NSFW story I was making but lost interest in. Female Reader decides to go off grid away from humanity and goes to the “Haunted” Skeleton forest as it was declared public land but no one will go there after people and even search parties have disappeared. Has Classic, Underswap, Underfell, Swapfell, and Horrortale bros. I really liked readers first experience meeting a skeleton in this as it is a boistrous Black after he saves her from a raging river due to a storm. Classic Sans and Papyrus have been looking out for her but in the shadows as Reader sets up her home on their territory. Reader had never encountered a skeleton and had laughed off the idea that the place was haunted after living there a month. It might be something I come back to but until then I’m leaving the whole meeting under the cut... Be aware that this is slightly NSFW but I couldn’t resist publishing it as it pertains to Swapfell boys. Enjoy!

It took you forever to secure your campsite but you were more worried for the garden. It needed to be covered from the raging storm.

As you went to cross the stream, now a furious river, with your tarp... the current caught your leg in an awkward angle and down you went.

Regretting not having gotten around to making a bridge as you are swept downstream. Doing everything you can to survive as the water became white rapids from the excessive rain.

You were smacked awake. Jerking and shaking your head you were about to yell at whoever hit you... when before you was an average in height, but still taller than you, menacing skeleton. You were scared into a stupor as you watch its shark like teeth curl into a snarl. His black and red ensamble with matching eerie red eye lights locked right on you.

So... the skeleton forest had actual skeletons in it... guess those tall tales weren’t fiction afterall...

“HOW DARE YOU TRESPASS INTO MY TERRITORY HUMAN!!!” It screeched at you causing you to flinch.

Trembling from this spooky loud skeleton you try to take in your surroundings for a possible escape route.... and realize you are no where near the stream.

“Did...did you save me?” You ask curiously and the skeleton falters then seethes.

“I HAD TO FIND OUT WHY YOU’VE COME HERE! DID YOU COME ALONE, HUMAN?” He growls as you try to right yourself and stand up fully.

“...yes...” Honesty is the best policy right?

“WELL, THAT WAS STUPID OF YOU. I THE MALEVOLANT BLACK WILL SEE YOUR END!” He wrenches you up to him by the collar of your shirt.

“I’m sorry. I didn’t know I was trespassing! I-I...” You are cut off as he makes a weird face and takes a deeper whiff of you. A skeleton can smell things?

“FEMALE? ARE YOU FEMALE HUMAN?” He demands an answer.

“Yes.” Not knowing why it made a difference. Honestly you still feel like this is a dream or you died in the river and this was your limbo.

“I SEE... IT WAS YOUR INTENT TO FIND ME ALL ALONG!!!” He lets your shirt collar go and you stumble back a bit in confusion.

You were about to question when another taller skeleton approaches. Tall and lanky with a fur trimmed hoodie. He somehow had a gold fang for being a skeleton in the woods with no dentist, but the crack in his jaw above made you wonder if that was how his tooth fell out or if was the gold one being shoved in.

“Whatcha got m’lord?” He eyes you curiously then smirks with a hint of mischief.

“MUTT! BEHOLD! A FEMALE HAS MADE HER WAY TO FIND ME!” The shorter one puffs his chest out proudly.

“I have?” Still not sure what the hell this is you are experiencing... still kinda hoping you swallowed to much river water and this is just a dream.

“OBVIOUSLY!!! YOU’VE HEARED OF MY SUPERIOR VIRILITY AND HAVE COME SEARCHING FOR YOUR MATE!” Posing pridefully as you gaped at him speechless.

You look to the other one for some sense at what is going on.

“Of course m’lord.” He smirks

well...shit... WING IT

“You know... perhaps I may have gotten carried away... As superior as you truly are... I... I’d hate to bog you down if I wasn’t at least an equal match.” Maybe by putting yourself down it might convince him to just let you go and forget all about this mating nonsense.

“HMMM... A VALID POINT...” He frowns and eyes you with scrutiny... the other however... his grin is positively shit eating.

“But M’lord... She’s braved coming this far. Perhaps it is to be. Such an adoring fan of yours should at least be bred if not taken for a lifemate.” You could punch that asshole as the smaller one seems to perk up.

“YES! YOUR HARD JOURNEY SHALL NOT HAVE BEEN IN VAIN! I ACCEPT YOUR COURAGE AND BRAVERY TO COME TO ME FOR YOUR BREEDING SEASON!” Your eyes widen as he approves almost instantly.You needed to think fast

“I may have jumped the gun a little early though! It’s not my season to be looking for a proper mate... Alas!” If you can pull this off you were sure he’d let you go... He wouldn’t murder someone that he was interested in right?

“BUT YOU SMELL SO FERTILE...” Well that threw you as he gives you a confused look.

“M’lord, Perhaps your presence made her cycle jump forward. You glare at the smirking skeleton that adds a wink to further your ire.

“AH HA! SO EAGER TO BE BRED BY ME MY SWEET? SO MUCH SO YOUR OWN BODY DEFIES IT’S NATURE!” Now he’s just preening but now you are curious... he’s a skeleton... how the hell was that supposed to work?

“...Since we’re talking about it.. How does it work?” Dream or not this was boggling your mind.

“WHAT?” the shorter one cocks a brow bone.

“You know... you being a skeleton and all...” You try to hint but it seems its lost on him.

“THE BLAZES ARE YOU ON ABOUT?” He had no clue.

“Darlin’ a virgin?” Oh you were going to cause physical harm to this skeleton that was obviously enjoying every moment of this torment.

“OH! I DIDN’T THINK I’D HAVE TO EXPLAIN THE BASICS BUT I WILL FOR YOU MY DEAR. I WILL PUT MY PENIS INTO YOUR VAGINA. MY GIRTH WILL SPLIT YOU OPEN FOR DEEP PENETRATION. MY KNOT KEEPING US TIED IN ECTASY AS I FORCE MY SEED DEEP INTO YOUR WAITING WOMB. ONLY AFTER YOU CLAMP DOWN AND CLIMAX ON ME IN PURE EUPHORIA.” What started as a sex ed lecture turned into a sensual and explicit turn on as he leaned and purred the rest of the speech in your ear.

You are a blushing mess.

“Somethin’ wrong darlin’?” the bigger one chuckles.

“I’m scare-roused?” This was maddening. You’ve never had anyone come onto you so aggressively. Unfortunately you seemed to have liked it and now this skeleton has you flustered.

“OF COURSE THAT IS ONLY THE FINALE... THERE ARE OTHER THINGS I WISH TO DO TO YOU BEFORE THEN.” You see a deep red glow seep out his mouth in the form of a tongue.. then is sensually sweeps across his shark like teeth.

Okay so this is happening... your finding something out about yourself as you allow him closer and that tongue graces your neck along with a few nips.

Whimpering as he places those love bites on such sinful spots that make your knees weak.

Suddenly you are yanked away.

“THIS IS OUR HUMAN, BLACK. WE’VE BEEN WORRIED SICK LOOKING FOR HER WHEN WE SAW SHE HADN’T RETURNED FROM THE CLEARING.” A sweet smiling fangless mutt? No this one had more energy and very chipper than the lazy asshole that had been goading you.

He looked to be in some makeshift armor and a long red scarf. As he holds you close to him another smaller skeleton approaches... in a blue hoodie and basketball shorts... and fuzzy pink slippers...

At this point you had to question yourself if this was still a dream... but the more you think on it the exhaustion from having to fight for your life down a raging stream is making your body scream at you.

“NO SHE IS NOT! SHE SOUGHT ME!” Black raged.

“Well she’s been living in our neck of the woods pal. Not really seeking you if she’s been in one spot for several weeks.” The blue hooded one snarks at him.

“YES! SHE HAS THE MOST AMAZING PUZZLE BOOKS!” So that’s where they’ve been disappearing to.

“Not nice to cock block classic.” Mutt squared off with the shorter one.

“I’m just thankful Red wasn’t the one that found her.” the one dubbed as Classic so far sighs.

“Yep, she’d have been fucked conscious then unconscious.” Mutt shrugged and the one holding you shuddered with a horrified look on his skull.

“IS THAT LANGUAGE AND SUBJECT MATTER ABSOLUTELY NECESSARY!?” He exclaims

“SHE WAS CONSENTING TO BE BRED BY ME. I AM HER CHOSEN MATE!” Black is not about to let you go.

“More like between a rock and hard place there Black.” Classic growled making the other short one bristle.

“DO YOU WISH TO GO HOME?” The one holding you looks to you for what it is you want. You feel incredibly safe with him.

“Yes.” You simply answer feeling the weight of your exhaustion trying to pull you into the realm of sleep.

Black looks hurt at your response.

“It’s a lot to process Black but I will consider it. Just tired... you know... being dragged down a raging river... nearly dying?” He still looks a little preturbed that you didn’t want to stay with him.

“I SAVED YOU.” He states with a pout.

“You have my deepest thanks and here...” You pull out your still damp handkerchief to hand to him.

“You have my favor.” Black snatches it with a boost in his confidence.

“I shall treasure it my lady. My territory is open to you my future mate.” It should be a crime the way he looks at you.

END EXCERPT

[let-me-love-you-loki]

Waking Up in Vegas--Ch. 45

A/N: This is the last full chapter. The next thing will be an epilogue closing the story out. Thank you for taking this journey with me, Mera, Dean, and Seth!

Chapter 45: Until I Woke Up

Seth, Afternoon, 1:23 PM

           I looked at Mera, trying to wrap my head around what she’d just said. That hollowness inside me seemed to respond to her words. It relaxed just a little. My fingers wrapped around hers and squeezed.

           I laughed sadly. “I don’t think I know who that person is anymore, Mera,”

           She leaned her head against my shoulder. It made me think of the years that I’d taken her for granted. The years that I’d ruined because I couldn’t be who she needed me to be. I squeezed my eyes shut to hold back the tears. God, I was ready to break down. Those moments of emptiness and hollow were breaking away, smashing beneath the feeling of Mera being there. It was as if the weight of her forgiveness… her understanding crushed my belief that I’d stopped feeling anything about it.

           “He’s still in there,” she said putting her hand on my chest. The heat of her palm burned through the fabric of my shirt. I could feel it burning and blistering against my flesh. “I know it, because I know the real you.”

           It happened before I could get control of myself. The heat burned like a pain behind my eyes. The tears came, a rush of them pouring out of me like they hadn’t in years. I turned in my seat and threw my arms around her. For half a second, she seemed to recoil. Then she sank into my hold, wrapping her arms around me. Mera cradled my head against her shoulder.

           “It’s going to be okay, Colby.”

           The sound of her saying my name—the name she hadn’t called me since I had broken everything we’d built together—it was almost too much. I clung to her harder, clutching her against me as I sobbed into her honey gold hair.

           “Mera,” I whispered, sniffling. “I’m sorry. I’m so sorry.”

           “Bee,” she soothed. “Stop. It’s over, it’s done. It’s forgiven. It’s forgiven.”

Dean, Afternoon, 1:30 PM

           I saw them at the table. For an instant, that beast in my chest roared in jealousy at seeing the two of them holding onto each other. But one look at my wife made it calm into sleep once again. Even from where I stood, I could see the softened curve of her face. The way that her entire being looked… lighter.

           My feet took me on a detour through catering. I grabbed a tray and piled it high with just about anything and everything that Seth and Mera liked. Even that super sweet lemonade that they liked. I took my time carrying everything over to the table where they sat. I stopped and talked to Jimmy and Jey, to Mustafa Ali, and Alexa Bliss, trying to give them the time they needed.

           “How is she?” Alexa asked as I leaned on the table. She, Becky, and Natalia were sitting together talking about the upcoming women’s tag tournament.

           “She’s doing good,” I said with a proud smile. “We went by the campus last week. She’s really excited.”

           I glanced toward her, focusing in on the way that she seemed somehow freer than before. Whatever the two of them had talked about, it seemed to stitch together some of the wounds that their past had left on her. Sometime soon, she would be whole.

           “Have they sorted themselves out?” Becky asked, gesturing toward where they sat. When I looked at her, I could see the real reason behind her question. Oh Christ, that’s going to be interesting.

           I gave her a sideways smile. “I think they’re about to. If you’ll excuse me, ladies…”

           Mera met my eyes as I moved toward the table. She smiled softly, and her amber eyes sparkled even with her tears. I sat the tray quietly on the table and moved a chair around to sit facing Seth.

           “Bee…” she said gently, giving Seth another firm squeeze. He clung on for a long moment before he took a deep breath and sat up. His face was red, eyes glassy and bloodshot.

           I plopped a cup of lemonade in front of each of them. “You look like hell, Rollins,” I teased. “You need a drink.”

           Seth’s eyes shot up, fear spilling over his face. Mera slid her arm around his shoulder and settled her chin on his shoulder. I grinned at her, happy to see her look so at ease.

           “You guys okay?” I asked, handing over plates piled high with their favorites. My wife beamed at me, and I felt my own smile get bigger.

Mera, Afternoon, 1:46 PM

           Seth looked across the table at Dean, not quite sure what to say. I gave his shoulder a squeeze. “It’s okay, Bee,” I whispered.

           Dean raised a brow, making him look slightly comical. “Bee?”

           I grinned. “Bear and Bee.” I rolled my eyes and laughed. “Huge Winnie the Pooh person when I was kid. I was Pooh Bear, he’s Bee.”

           Laughter rolled over the table. Dean’s blue eyes went bright cornflower. “Can I be Eeyore?”

           I pressed my lips together, trying not to snort. I glanced sideways at Seth, who was looking at me with an openness that I hadn’t seen since… I couldn’t remember how long. I waited, praying silently that the two of them could figure it out. That they could put this whole thing behind them and be the friends they’d been for so many years.

           Seth took a deep drink of the lemonade in front of him. He looked at it twice, making a surprised face. “This is… right?” he said to me.

           I shrugged. “He knows how it goes. He’s had practice.”

           For a second, I thought I’d gone too far. A flicker of that haunted sadness slipped into his brown eyes. Then it was gone, and he smiled like the old Colby. He bumped his forehead against mine.

           “You’re happy, Bear? Really?”

           “Very much,” I replied, staring at him like we’d used to. “But I’d be happier if you and I can be friends again.”

           Seth took a deep breath and cradled the back of my head with his hand. For a moment, he sat there without moving. Then he pressed a kiss to my forehead and smiled softly. “I’ve missed you, Bear.”

           It felt like I’d taken a truly deep breath for the first time in a long time. The smile that spread over my face was the first completely free one in years. The two halves of me finally merged together, making me finally… at long last… whole again.

           “And you,” Seth said, putting his elbow on the table and pointing at Dean. “You, are much more of a Tigger.”

           Dean’s eyes got big and round as he leaned back in his chair. He poked himself in the chest. “Me? Me? Tigger!”

           I looked between the two of them, silently marveling at how they so quickly fell into their old selves. Almost as if the past year hadn’t happened at all.

           “I don’t know, Bee,” I said meeting my husband’s eyes. “He seems more like Rabbit to me. Such a party pooper.”

           “I am not!” Dean exclaimed.

           My heart swelled happily as I squeezed Seth around the shoulder again before dropping a kiss on his hair. I stood and rounded the table, kissing Dean on the cheek. “I’m going to go check the hall. See if anyone needs me. You two get… reacquainted.”

Seth, Afternoon, 2:09 PM

           I watched Mera walk away, something familiar settling in my chest. It was a sense of comfort like I hadn’t felt in years. It was the feeling of having my friend back. Of not having to be this person who I thought everyone wanted me to be. I could breathe and, just for the moment, be the version of myself that I actually liked.

           For a while, Dean and I sat in silence. There was still something awkward about it, made sharper by the absence of Mera. I missed her, but I realized just then how much I missed Dean. We’d come up in the WWE together, and it felt wrong to not be on the same side. To not be true friends.

           “Hey, listen, I’m sorry,” I started, finding it hard to look at him. “I’m sorry for the things I said. For how I acted.”

           Dean smiled. A real, genuine smile. “Seth… I get it. You and Mera,” he said, pointing between me and the seat she’d recently vacated, “there’s something there that I’ll never be able to touch. It took me a while to figure that part out, but if it makes her happy, I can live with it. She’s missed you.”

           I groaned and tapped my knuckles on the table. “Nah, I was an asshole to her. She deserves better. She deserves you. Took me a while to figure that one out.” I stopped and glanced across the room. Mera was sitting at the table with Alexa, Natty, and Becky. The four of them laughed, and I couldn’t help but remember how Mera had worked every crowd in high school. She could be friends with anyone. “But she’s happy. Happier than I’ve seen her in a long time. “

           “Hey, she’s missed Colby, honey or whatever the fuck she calls you.” The words came out gruff, but with a hint of a smile. “Part of that happy is because you two are talking again.”

           I watched over his shoulder. Mera leaned across the table and whispered something to Becky. She covered her face with her hand, aquamarine nail polish against fiery red hair. Mera glanced back at us, and I grinned.

           “And she’s gone right back to the girl I grew up with.” Dean turned around, spoon hanging from his mouth, and waved at the girls. I groaned and dropped my head.

           “Which girl was that?” Dean asked distractedly.

           I barely had time to whisper, “The kind who hates to see anyone lonely,” before Mera reappeared at the table side, her arm around Becky.

           “Hey, Bee, I need to ask you a huge favor.” Her amber eyes glittered and she smiled brighter than a million suns. “Apparently Becks here was supposed to ride with Alexa after the show, but they’re short a car. Lexi is riding with Braun. Can you be a super awesome best friend and give Becks a ride? Dean and I would, but we have to go back to Vegas tonight.”

           I looked Mera over. She was the girl who had been every bright thing in my life for as long as I could remember. I’d basked in her devotion like sunshine for so long. But I’d consumed everything about her that had once been beautiful and bright, tossing her out like a dead and dying star. I suppose I’d learned my lesson… stars were fragile things without something to feed their flames. And I’d spent far too long taking from Mera Reynolds, and not nearly enough time giving.

           She looked at me hopefully, raising her brows and subtly flicking her gaze at Becky. Across the table, Dean was doing his best to keep a straight face.

           “Sure, Bear,” I replied, smiling just a little. “I can give Becky a lift. I’ll meet you in the parking lot at eleven thirty?”

           “Thanks, Rollins,” Becky said, one corner of her lips curled up. She shared a look with Mera and sauntered off toward the locker rooms.

           Mera grinned, her smile beaming like some new and bright thing just burst into the cosmos. Dean was right. For the first time in a very, very long time, Mera Reynolds looked whole and happy.

           Well… Mera Ambrose.

Tag List

@mox-made-me-do-it​ @houndsofjxstice​ @lunatictoosweet @xbutterflius-effectusx​ @mother-forker​ @instantboquetdestinysblog @dcnmarvelgamergeek​ @pinkduality @lilred91​ @not-that-kinda-gurl08​ @maelleoute​

[roseoilmuse]

𝔥𝔢𝔞𝔳𝔢𝔫

Summary: Ares Trevino finds out he’s going to be a father, and instead of being responsible, he decides to do everything in his power to forget his current reality, while also ruining his life in the process Characters: Ares Trevino, Aspen Spader, mentions of Eulalie LaVelle and Persephone Trevino, Joy Pepper) Setting: the Trevino mansion, Aspen Spader’s storage unit Word count: 1,583 Trigger warnings: mention of drug use (marijuana, cocaine, heroin), mention of selling of drug, mention of mental illness (bipolar, disassociation), mention of sexual activity

It is Saturday, June 27th.

An intimacy, attention starved Ares Trevino has just experienced his very first episode of disassociation. He has hardly even regained cognizance, a ringing starting to build in his ears, but he can faintly hear the cries of his girlfriend, followed by the soft coos of his sister. The fog of his mind was strong, but still his flight instincts told him that he had to leave. Now. As his astral body snapped back into the physical, he noticed a picture in his hand, but not just any picture, this was a sonogram. Scribbled on the back was Eulalie’s handwriting.

“I’m sorry”

The small pain of a headache had started, and reading the message only made the pain amplify. His flight sense was screaming, he needed to leave, so he did. His ear rang, louder than anything he’s ever heard before as he quickly grabbed his keys and wallet and bolted out the door. Still through the ringing he heard the faint cries, and soon heard angry footsteps. Persephone was pissed, he could feel her energy, which pushed him to practically gallop down the stairs. He didn’t say anything to anyone, just started booking it to his car, having a push to start so it was ready to go before he even stepped foot in. The only trace of Ares was the sonogram, with Eulalie’s handwriting, sitting on the floor of the sitting area of his room.

He drove aimlessly, his goal was to get as far from home as possible, as far from whatever reality his mind decided to separate itself from. The engine roared angrily as he bobbed and weaved in the afternoon traffic, cutting people off, and gunning the engine at yellow lights to barely make it. The ringing in his ears had subsided, but the slight numbness from the heavy episode of disassociation felt like weights. He was halfway through a joint and felt nothing. He remembered he had bought an eightball of coke and left it in his glove compartment, so he went for that, just spilling some onto the webbing on his left hand and snorted it. Nothing. 

More. 

Snort. 

Nothing.

Nothing. Nothing. He felt nothing, his whole face was numb and the drip was making it practically impossible for him to even take a full breath in. He needed something better.

“Maybe it’s cut?” He asks himself out loud, though he knew it was a lie, the guy he went through, Aspen Spader, hands down, has the best drugs money can buy, and that’s who he needed to see. Luckily he was always a phone call away.

Aspen knew what it meant to see the name Ares Trevino flash on his phone screen and In a matter of minutes, Aspen set up a rendezvous spot for them to meet. It was a storage unit, as per usual, that Aspen had set up for moving his bigger weight. Being that Ares was already a loyal customer, he trusted Ares enough to directly come to the source, to a certain extent. So there Ares finds himself pulling up to the outdoor unit, and Aspen motioning him to quickly come in. He’d been there once or twice, Ares knew, don’t touch anything unless asked to.

It seemed Aspen was just having a chill day, the plumes of marijuana and tobacco hung in the air. Aspen explained to Ares this was something he considered an after hours journey, but still he figured they could chill for a bit and get a little fucked up.

He watched anxiously as Aspen laid all the little pills, and powders, flower and oil, carefully setting them in parchment, or filling up various sized baggies, weighing them, and reweighing them whilst also passing Ares a joint, or a blunt, or whatever else they were getting into. Aspen could feel his anxiety. Ares could feel Aspen feel his own anxiety, and though, by choice, Aspen never delved too much into either of their personal lives, he almost felt like he should.

“You okay, dude?” Aspen raised a brow over to Ares, his tone wasn’t nearly as serious as the loaded question, even his expression was light, but Aspen knew he needed to get something off his chest.

“Huh?” Ares was still in a bit of a haze, and while the drug didn’t help, he knew it was more than just that, “oh yeah, just thinking, ya know.”

“Yeah, I can tell dude, you’re far up in your own head today,” Aspen ashed the joint, and placed it back in between his lips, “yah wanna talk about it or are you going to mope all night?”

Aspen’s words stung Ares a bit, only enough to respond sternly, “no, I just don’t even want to think, so unless you have something that will take away this shit then yeah, I actually may just mope.”

A pause, Aspen let out a chortle, handing Ares the joint, and looked as if he was weighing not only his drugs, but a suggestion. The blonde haired man visibly came to a conclusion, setting things down in front of him and moving to a rolling tool box. He dug around for a moment before pulling out a white baggy. The glint in his blue eyes made Ares feel almost hopeful for a solution. The bag soared through the air as it was tossed from one side to the other, Ares luckily catching it, knowing that whatever it was, it had to have a bigger value than most.

Ares stared at it long and hard, feeling as if he stared any longer he might burn a hole straight through it. Cocaine? He thought to himself, pushing his shaggy dyed, black hair out of his face, I already did this today and it didn’t help. His disappointment was palpable, though he continued to stare because he wasn’t one to turn down free drugs.

“Heroin,” Aspen told him, crossing the room back to the table of various drugs, hardly making eye contact, acting far too cool for what he just tossed the younger boy.

“Heroin,” Ares echoed, holding it up to the light. He could tell them it wasn’t cocaine. It looked more powdery, even more… tempting.

“Only if you want to try it,” Aspen again spoke with such calm demeanor it was almost unsettling to Ares.

He questioned his next move hard, though in real time it was a matter of seconds. There were always cautionary tales about heroin, but then again there were cautionary tales about every single thing he ever ingested, ranging from marijuana to even sugary sodas. What harm could it really cause?

His curiosity got the best of him, and before he knew it Aspen was making two little lines for the both of them. It shocked him how little one was, while the other was bigger, it wasn’t even significant. Aspen snorted the bigger line up, and immediately his eyes glossed over, the blues turning practically fluorescent. They were beautiful, even Ares could admit that, to himself though, not out loud.This made his curiosity peak even more. So he leaned in, and sniffed the table.

There was an instant rush. All the hairs on his body stood at a point. The warmth, the relief, the absolute bliss…. No.

The 𝕖𝕦𝕡𝕙𝕠𝕣𝕚𝕒.

Ḩ̸̩̰͍͕̣͓͉̕E̷͖͈̋̉̐A̶͓̲̜̭̩͖̮͍̔͛̽͊͘V̴̙̻͕̠̲̹̦̠̜͖̅E̸̢̢̡͍͎̩̣̘̿̽̑̅̈̓̕N̵̛͚͋

It is Thursday, or Friday… Maybe Saturday?

He couldn’t remember, all he could process through the heroin haze was the heat. A July kind of hot… or maybe it was an August kind of hot. Whatever time of the year it was, his world was his own. Right now his main domicile was his expensive sports car. He was splayed out in the reclined drivers seat. The light beamed through the heavy smoke as he hotboxed his car, slowly smoking his joint. What little light came through kept his almost fully closed eyes from shutting. Ares had no idea where he was physically, but his body swam through the euphoria of his new true love.

White China heroin.

It is Tuesday, September 1st.

A girl by the name of Joy seems just as desperate for human affection as Ares is. He was thankful for that. She didn’t even seem to notice how strung out he was, driving to his house. Sneaking her in was no problem. Ares went in first, greeted his mother, grabbed a water-- two, he claimed to be thirsty. Oh he was.

Opened his window.

Crawled out.

And brought her inside. Even in the car when he picked her up, he wanted him. He never understood this. She was actually really nice, beautiful, and seemed nervous so what was Red Riding Hood doing shedding her robe for the Big Bad Wolf?

Shed she did, and Ares realized the heroin made him more carnal than ever. Joy was elated. And after September 1st,

The whole month of September he spent in bed with Joy, alternating smoking and snorting heroin. He smoked in his room all day, even the air purifier couldn’t clear the smell completely. He only left his room for Door Dash, or Uber Eats, or whatever food delivery system that made it so he could never leave. He laid in bed, with Joy, buying her whatever she wanted, and pretending to listen about her fucked up family and her fucked up life. He could have cared, but the heroin made him so detached from reality, there was no such thing as care.

Only 𝕖𝕦𝕡𝕙𝕠𝕣𝕚𝕒.

Only Joy.

Only heroin.

Only,

Ḩ̸̩̰͍͕̣͓͉̕E̷͖͈̋̉̐A̶͓̲̜̭̩͖̮͍̔͛̽͊͘V̴̙̻͕̠̲̹̦̠̜͖̅E̸̢̢̡͍͎̩̣̘̿̽̑̅̈̓̕N̵̛͚͋

[doctorcanon]

Just Finished the BL Route.

There is such a great attention to character detail in this game because let’s face it, that’s really the only detail this game has but really, it’s all it needs. What is a story without characters? However, I wanna make something very clear: Just because I’m critical of a character’s motivations, I’m not bashing them. I think this is a fantastic game and everyone has something to love about it. But I do, have some grievances and this is like...80% grievance.

Unpopular Opinion but Dimitri’s descent into madness makes total sense. The kid is clearly hanging on by a thread the moment you meet him and it’s only enhanced by Felix’s observations. One thing important to note here: Boars aren’t aggressive until they are provoked.

There’s a lot riding on Dimitri from the very beginning. He’s the one that’s going to put Faergus back together. He’s the one that’s going to protect what’s left of Duscur. He has to come back to his country a leader worth following. He tried to stop the burning of Duscur and in the end, he only saved one person - nearly dying himself. Again. 

That’s all before you meet him. He’s the foil to Edelgard for a reason, and he rises to meet her at every challenge. If she’s an unstoppable force, he’s the immovable object and Claude is the result of the collision.

Edelgard and Dimitri also see the concept of Family very, very differently. Edelgard clearly sees any family ties as burdens, reminders of a horrible ordeal that took her life away and nearly destroyed her. Whereas Dimitri is desperate for any kind of family connection after a horrible ordeal that took his life away and nearly destroyed him. Foils.

In a way, Edelgard is stronger or at least more constructive than Dimitri. While Dimitri was stuffed in a jail cell and nearly executed, Edelgard went out and did something about what she thought was wrong with the world. Although, I think the way she went about doing it is outrageous. Honestly, I could write an entire book on why the Sympathetic Imperialist is a bad trope. All I’ll say on the subject is: Just because you call in “unification” doesn’t mean it’s not Imperialism. 

Dimitri has an extreme - almost unreasonable - sense of duty and justice. This spreads virulently into Ashe and Ingrid who frequently have to be brought back down to Earth before they get carried away as shown in their supports with Catherine, Sylvain and Felix. Everything in Faergus is riding on him being a worthy leader, it makes sense that he would think avenging the dead would fall into that category. The country’s hopes rest on his shoulders, the dead are subject to his protection as well. Auditory/visual hallucinations and flashbacks are a common symptom of PTSD - and I have my own theory about Dimitri being a disorganized Schizophrenic but that’s a whole ‘nother ball game. 

Before Remire Village, Dimitri is very slow to anger. He doesn’t acknowledge anger and out of the three he is the most level headed. Naturally, this makes him the most unbalanced. Which would’ve made for a killer dynamic among the 3 house leaders. God I would give my left tit to see this game redone to give Edelgard, Claude and Dimitri a much deeper bond. Because the Dimitri/Claude dynamic comes out of nowhere in the third act of the game. Even weirder, it’s right after we beat his ass and killed his friends at Gronder field. A battle that he really didn’t need to be involved in in the first goddamn place. Oh man, just think of it, the story of Claude trying desperately to hold his two friends together and then depending on which route you choose, him realizing that one, the other or both are beyond saving. That way he could actually...y’know...BE IN THE OTHER STORY ROUTES.

Even though I adore the Blue Lions story route, it pretty much falls apart after the battle of Gronder Field. The game starts to depend more on the emotional impact of killing your fellow students and teachers rather than actual storytelling. Personally, this had very little effect on me because once I failed a few times, I got angry to the point that I truly did not care about straight up killing any of them. 

Rodrigue’s death was almost entirely pointless and only served to make me feel really bad for Felix who spends two months distinctly alone and grieving. His entire journey coming to terms with his father’ death is just glossed over with a few lines. Meanwhile Dimitri is apparently cured of his PTSD even though it’s clear he’s still suffering. It’s just never really resolved because apparently winning a war means you’re no longer traumatized.

Even though I adore him, I completely understand why a lot of people don’t like Dimitri because it’s the same reason a lot people dislike female characters in certain media. He has very little - if any - agency in his own story. The tragedy of Duscur, the Burning of Duscur, attending the Officer’s academy, Edelgard’s war...it’s all just...happens to him and keeps happening to him. He has almost no say in anything in the story. Gilbert pretty much makes him participate in the war while he’s clearly mentally unfit for duty. Everyone just kind of makes choices around him, he suffers for it pretty much every time and then he blames himself for it instead of calling those people tf out which is just counterproductive. And when he does call them out he comes across as Whiny 90s Anti-Hero rather than a Broken Man Who’s Had Just About Enough of This Nonsense. His Mental Instability is treated more like a tragic character flaw than his Wrath, which is ...y’know...the actual tragic character flaw. 

There are a lot of things the Blue Lion’s Route just leaves up to the other story routes: Claude’s general existence, the church plot no one explains, Edelgard never explicitly states what her ideals are, Those Who Slither in the Dark abruptly appear and disappear, Rhea just fucks off to live in the red canyon for the rest of her life, and the plot just hopes you forget to ask about it because they never explain it. 

That being said, I adore this story route and my Blue Lion Children. I’m playing Golden Deer next.

[buttercup-of-kaer-morhen]

Of Thorns and Buttercups

~Ch 5/?~

(Beauty and the Beast AU, Kiiiinda. It has definite elements of the original story cause I’m a sap for Fairytale AUs. I hope you enjoy. Also shout out to @sophiakuso1 for being my beta. Here you can find Beginning or Previous) Geralt tries to figure out how to break the curse while battling with his feeling this time.

Note: Lew is pronounced Lef because it is polish just as a heads up.

Primary Tags: Beast! Geralt, Belle! Jaskier, Memory Alteration Via Curse, It really only affects Jaskier right now Also on AO3!

————————-

Geralt sat in the destroyed room that night after dinner, staring at the cage. He was specifically trying to not think about the fact that not only was the bard trapped in the cursed castle with him, but the bard also somehow lost his memory, most likely due to said curse… and it was all Geralt’s fault. The guilt swirling around in his chest was sickening and unwelcome. He just kept dragging the bard down with him. Geralt ran circles through his mind trying to figure out what he should do about the whole damn thing. After a while, he decided that it would be better at that point if he were to just stay away from the man as best as he could. If he did, then Jaskier would slowly realize he was wasting his time on a monster like Geralt, just like on the mountain. Geralt just had to figure out how to get Jaskier past the thorn vines keeping them imprisoned, but the witcher had a sinking feeling that it would require the curse being broken.

Geralt sighed, finally looking away from the silvered metal vines trapping the cluster of buttercups and realized the moon was high in the sky, much further in its journey than when he had fetched the bard to eat. It felt like he was not only losing time, but it also couldn’t move any slower. Watching the clock or trying to solve a problem in his head to pass the time was like watching tree sap drip in winter, but if he got lost in his thoughts, it flew by without him realizing. The memory of the almost completely dead rose and the warning of petals falling had dread creeping up his spine. He had a limit on his time, whether it was choosing to go fast or slow, until who knows what would happen, and it was all very similar to waiting in a dungeon for his own execution. Except this time, he had a bard to drag to his death with him and he had no idea where to even start to try and stop it… Except the weird journal! 

He wanted to smack himself for almost forgetting about its existence. He quickly collected the small book again and settled back onto the edge of the bed. He first flipped through, discovering that it was a journal of someone of the castle rather than magical notes or something of actual use, and oddly enough it only had the first few pages written in. Although it was just a journal, it reeked of magic, as did everything else in this place, which irked him a bit. Would nothing be easy?! A magical personal journal was most likely useful, but he didn’t know how yet until he actually read the damn thing. He sighed before settling further into the nest of fabric so he could at least be comfortable while slogging through the first entry that was most likely fraught with exaggerations he’d have to weed through. He did hope that more pages would fill as he read however, because perhaps there were magical inscriptions and spells on later pages… He could only hope. 

[The Date is Unreadable]

The years grow long since I came to my lord’s court and was given the honor of my knighthood. We have fought many battles side by side and I have completed every task, be it political or mundane, which he has given me. Although this life leaves me fulfilled, I feel as though I am missing something. I crave the companionship of another outside that of my fellow knights, my lord, and the countries that seem ever present now. Although the ladies I have been introduced to as of late are fine of figure and mind, none fill the hollow feeling that has steadily grown in my chest. 

I almost thought all hope was lost when while I was in the village today, I came upon the fairest maiden I had ever laid eyes upon. Her delicate features and poise rivaled that of any woman I have encountered across the lands on my travels. Her timid and delicate disposition only lends to her outward appearance, for as soon as I caught sight of her eyes, I could see the wild freedom that burned within. The fierce look called out to me and it lit my soul ablaze, but before I could make my way to her across the market, she was gone. Now I am haunted by the ethereal grace the lady has left instilled in my mind. 

It is not my will to cage or steal away her free spirited nature. I only wish to partake in it with her so I may feel alive like I once did while seeing the world in a new light provided by her fire. I plan to go to my lord upon the sun’s arrival and I will beseech him to help me find her so that I may earn the permission from her family so I may be allowed to court her. I pray this evening for everything to work in favor of us all. 

Geralt sighed heavily through his nose as his head fell back against the plush and he looked at the elaborate ceiling above. So far it was exactly what he feared it would be, the over-dramatized tellings of some Knight’s life that reads more like one of those sappy romantic tales Jaskier would constantly rave or sing about rather than an actual succinct telling of events. He couldn’t understand how any of this connected to the curse, but he begrudgingly decided to read on and see where he ended up. 

[The Date is Also Unreadable on this Entry]

 The leaves on the trees have turned to the colors of fire, and the world looks as though it has been set ablaze. I have only just returned from meeting with a neighboring lord, during which time I have gone nearly half a season without even a name of my lady love. Oh how she still torments my heart day and night with her absence. It is as though she has bewitched me, and I have no hold over my own self at present. My mind is filled almost entirely by her, and my only wish, if I am unable to win her affection, is to formally meet her. 

My lord sent word that he would make enquiries on my behalf while I was away and now that I have returned, anticipation steals my breath. My fellow knights jest that I  should have followed the path of a bard for how I constantly prattle on at them, waxing poetic of her spirit and sketching her form  from memory, as we travel between our destinations. Although I know it is only light fun on their part, I find myself getting sentimental as I ever grow closer to the middle of my life. I wonder deep in the night whether I would have been more suited to another life but, it is quickly dismissed as nonsensical at this stage. My lord has also made mention, as we are good friends, he feels as though we are practically brothers with how much trust he allows me, and he will be glad to hire me as the official court bard if a change of profession ever truly struck my fancy. They all mock kindly but it warms me at my core to know there are those in my life who indulge my whims. 

Still, Sir Gregor questions why I will not simply give my heart to one of the many ladies of the court  who fancy me, and proclaims me mad in the head for not doing so. I have given up on trying to explain the incredible sensation she has left within me. He will never understand such yearning and passion that has filled me since I took the sight of her in for the first time. I feel pity for the man, but as I rest tonight, I hold hope in my heart for what my lord has to say come morning. 

Geralt found reading this to be akin to dying slowly. Plodding through someone’s desperate yearning was the worst torture he has had to endure yet but at least there was something that hinted at magic in this passage. Geralt also observed that several pages were sketches of a beautiful woman with light hair, tawny skin, and dark eyes. He could not tell if the drawings were exaggerated by the knight’s besottment or if the woman could have possibly been fae or magic of some kind, glamoured just enough to hide the obvious parts while maintaining unnatural beauty. It could have explained why the curse magic was so strong and tricky. Magic was tricky in general, but fae magic was notoriously known for being a bitch, and he had been warned off from meddling in their affairs a long time ago for that exact reason… Now, here he was, knee deep in the shit. He’d have to figure it out one way or another. Deciding he’d be better off just reading the damn thing to completion rather than dithering on about what it could be, he turned his attention back to the book.

To his frustration, the rest of the pages remained blank. Unable to hold in his anger from hitting one road block after another, he threw the damned thing across the room with a growl and it landed with a satisfying rustle of paper before sliding somewhere out of sight. Unable to stand laying around anymore, he got up and began pacing through the quarters barely containing his aggravation. He wondered what to do now. That had been his last lead other than the meaningless riddle the beast had given him. He wanted to go out and train so he could take his frustrations out on something, but no, Jaskier was out there thinking he was just some random beast, and Geralt really didn’t want to add to the image his form presented currently. He wanted to break the curse, but he kept hitting wall after wall! He wanted… No. He needed someone to help him fix this entire mess, but there was no way for him to contact anyone other than the man who no longer remembered him. No wolves or powerful witches or plucky bards who glued themselves to Geralt’s side day and night were there to help him this time around. 

“Fuck…” The defeated syllable slipped from his lips as he sank to the cold stone floor while holding his face in his hands, the fur feeling strange but increasingly familiar under his touch… Jaskier had called him a beast. Geralt had never thought the bard would ever-- He had been the only one who hadn’t ever called the witcher a monster or recoiled at the sight of him. On the contrary, he would often defend Geralt from villagers who called him vile names, and even went as far as to attack the truly aggressive offenders… But now the Witcher was a beast with no name. The bard’s voice uttering the word kept repeating over and over again in his head. Geralt only had himself to blame. If he hadn’t yelled, if Jaskier had still been by his side, then maybe the troubadour would have never lost his memories. 

He had been so caught up in his own spiraling thoughts, Geralt almost didn’t notice the other voice suddenly filling the room. “Oi! Mopin’ about are we?” The warbled feminine voice cleaved through the once silent space but it came from seemingly nowhere as he scanned the area. Getting up, he searched as the squawking continued up until the point he came into view of a fractured mirror that had been hidden behind a moth eaten drape. As he looked in confusion at the mirror, due to the fact that the reflection was certainly not his own, the visage of the old hag from the town moaned in disappointment and shook her head at him from behind the reflective silver backed surface. “You fool Witcher! I-- I sent you to break the curse, not become cursed yourself, you nitwit!” She scolded with an exhausting scowl. If she were in her youth, he was sure she would remind him of Yen in some ways. 

He couldn’t help growling in frustration as he met her steely scowl with his own. “How was I expected to break a curse you refused to give me proper information on?! And you seem to still have some magic, so why not do it yourself if you knew how to?!” He tried to keep himself from snarling at the hag, but she was infuriating and the worry, as well as the earlier frustrations, were just compiling together. 

She took a moment to settle herself before sighing and gathering her thoughts, he assumed. In a calmer tone, she spoke again. “I cannot tell you about the curse in depth… Only pieces, and I cannot go there like yourself.” Her voice slowly became graver as she spoke and looked him directly in the eye. No lie then…

He grit his teeth before saying anything else, more civilly as Jaskier would have called it. “Why?”

“I just can’t… but I can help you as best as I can. This ain’t your curse, but you’re stuck with it--” It suddenly occurred to him that her accent was different from when they had met in her old shack which was… Odd.

“I know. I’m the making of my own curse. The beast said it before he died. Also, why do you sound different now?” He interrupted her as his annoyance rose again. 

“Shut it, you daft tit! Don’t interrupt me when I’m trying to help!” She spat at him, shaking a frail fist at him from behind the glass while once again scowling at him. Then after a beat, she continued. “Came to these lands years ago from far off and regretted it. Folks don’t take kindly to those different, so I glamoured my voice.” She clarified with an eye roll. Yup. Definitely Yen if she were to ever age. 

He chewed over the words as he felt some of the tension seep away. “Fair… So what can you tell me that will actually be useful?” He asked, sagging slightly, the memory of Jaskier looking at him in fear and no recognition was still a fresh would in his mind. 

“Hmmmmm… Though the curse is harsh, it’s not cruel. Born of grief it was…” The hag looked as though she were fighting her own mouth before she sighed once again. “Although it imprisons, it’ll give you everythin’ you need to break the curse. Don’t be a fool. If anythin’ appears there, then it’s for a reason. Make use of it or dither till you die in a prison of your own design. Only you can figure why you’re cursed.” She spoke critically but at least it was something useful to which he nodded in thanks thinking that her image would fade then. “Witcher! If you’re in dire straits, knock thrice on the looking glass and think o’ where you wanna see, or to whom you wish to speak. Only I’ll be able to answer back, however.” She offered hastily and after he nodded again, she was gone in a blink of an eye. The mirror now only held his own beastly reflection. 

He mulled over the words, realizing the night had grown long after that disaster of a dinner and it was now the witching hour; If he didn’t try to sleep now, then he would be tired and upset the next day, and he really didn’t need himself snapping at the bard again in misplaced irritation. So, he laid in the shredded nest of a bed and thought more on Jaskier. If he was brought here for a reason, then why steal his memories? And why would Geralt ever curse himself? Perhaps the magic was twisting a subconscious thought from the back of Geralt’s mind into something strange and problematic. But still, why the bard of all people? He drifted into an uneasy sleep thinking about all the new information. 

When he woke, the world was bright outside the crystalline windows, and there was a fuzziness to the world that followed waking from a deep sleep. The room was better around him, healed of the scars of broken and shattered furniture. He supposed this had been what the hag had spoken of; the keep was providing things slowly. He moved through the morning muzzy headed, letting his body rely on muscle memory as he went through several tasks of morning preparation. His head was clearer by the time he visited Roach in the stables where she waited patiently to be tended to and given exercise. He saddled her and checked it twice over before seating himself in the saddle… which was odd, seeing as he was so much bigger now that he was cursed, but she made no indication that he was too heavy or bothersome. The fogginess was back and his concerns evaporated as he rode out into the fiery forest. The foliage in hues of red and orange rushed past as he went further and further, nearing the small hidden lake between the castle and the town. Its waters shone gold as though the water were a dragon’s hoard of coin and riches in the early hours, but the beauty of it could not compare to the figure standing at it’s banks. 

Geralt barely remembered getting down from Roach or silently moving forward to observe the figure more closely, but then his mind cleared again and realization washed over him that the figure was in fact Jaskier. The bard was peacefully gazing out at the calm waters, but he wore odd clothing that Geralt swore he had never seen him in before. Instead of his usually short doublet, he wore a well fitted jacket of some sort that trailed all the way to the floor in the back and the front, but had slits up to the hips to show his well fitted trousers and tall boots. A part of it irked Geralt to no end, because it looked good, but strange and unlike the man at the same time. It was all reminiscent of a dress yet not. It was almost a coat he could imagine Yen wearing, but the garments were a soft blue trimmed in accents of red. It was a nostalgic reminder of Jaskier’s outfit from when they first met. 

The situation was so bizarre that Geralt wanted to question what was happening but before he could think, his body took an unconscious step forward snapping a twig under his heel. Jaskier’s coat whirled around him as he spun and caught sight of him, but there was no fear in his eyes, only confusion and curiosity. “Apologies my lady, I did not mean to frighten you. I was merely curious when I spotted a figure as I rode passed. Are you all right?” What the fuck was that? Geralt understood that it was his voice that spoke but the words were not his own. Icy understanding filled his gut and he knew now that this obviously had something to do with magic. 

“Very kind of you sir. I was just wanting to enjoy the still beauty of the morning and happened upon this lake.” Jaskier smiled brilliantly at him, his voice sounding exactly how Geralt remembered but there was an edge to it that sounded off. Unnatural. This was definitely not Jaskier. 

“I… I’ve seen you in the town but I’ve never had the pleasure to meet your acquaintance in person. I hoped to speak with you, if not just hear your name. I am Lew.” Geralt introduced himself with a foreign name. That was definitely not his name, and he hated how it felt coming out of his mouth, but he seemed to have no control over himself. With dawning horror, Geralt now understood that this was someone else's memories that he was now occupying. It could have been Jaskiers, or someone else from the castle, or even the writer of the journal. Geralt couldn’t be sure yet, and the bard couldn’t be ruled out immediately since the witcher realized he knew practically nothing of Jaskier’s past… It just kept getting messier and messier as he was dragged further into the spell. Whoever wove the threads of this magic somehow got it completely tangled into a ball of shit. 

“Ania. I have only come to live here a year or so ago, which is why we most likely have yet to meet formally.” Jaskier spoke in an amused tone, but Geralt was pretty damn sure that was not his bard’s real name. It was Jaskier. Maybe it wasn’t the bard’s memories after all. Geralt was going to have a difficult time remembering this was not actually the bard himself then but only the spell filling in a face with someone he knew. It was already getting so confusing in his mind, so Geralt decided to just keep using the name attached to the face he knew instead of using the ones he’d heard. Deciding it wouldn’t do much good to fight the memory, he settled in and let everything happen around him. The troubadour looked so much softer now than when they were ever on the road though. It made something in his chest flutter, but he was unsure if it was actually him or the owner of the memory feeling it. 

The witcher found himself wanting to say more, ask more about Jaskier, but the words had left him and his mouth refused to work. It felt like it was his only chance and it was fleeting right before his eyes. The strange visage of the bard suddenly looked off into the distance behind himself before returning a sheepish look to Geralt. “I… I have to go.” His voice was hesitant as Geralt slowly reached a hand out to the man, as if not wanting the bard to leave, but still unable to find the words. Jaskier smiled gently, before biting his lower lip as though he were trying to decide something. The witcher didn’t understand why he was paying such close attention to everything Jaskier did but he was. “I hope our paths cross again, Lew.” And with that, the man fled into the forest with his jacket fluttering behind him.  Geralt would have followed, curious as to if this person was human or not and get answers, but it would appear that the original “Lew” had been frozen with indecision in that moment. His heart raced, which felt strange to Geralt, but then things melted away and the Witcher was once again opening his eyes to the sunlight streaming through the windows. This time however, the room was still destroyed and the light was the cold shine of a winter morning. Geralt found himself staring up at the ceiling in complete bafflement, unable to really understand what the curse could have possibly thought he’d glean from that experience. He sat up in a huff and couldn’t help the puff of agitated words that slipped out of his throat. “What the fuck…” Then he was out of the chambers and headed for the stables to tend to Roach. If anything calmed him down and helped him to organize his thoughts, it was quality time with the mare.

[of-storms-and-saints-blog]

Part 01: Tainted Hero Chapter 11: A Proper Grey Warden “How do you feel?” Duncan’s face hovered over her own, his expression neutral. A small hint of relief reflected in his eyes. “Like I’ve been trampled by a Gurn . . . And that nightmare . . .” “What did you see?” “The horde . . . Thousands of nightgangers . . . And . . . And a huge dragon . . . The Archdemon.” Duncan nodded. “Now you understand how we know this is a Blight. I’ve arranged a meeting with King Cailan and General Loghain at mid-morning. I want you and Alistair present.” “Me? I’ve only been a Grey Warden for a few minutes.” “I can’t discuss it now, but there’s an important task you and Alistair are best equipped for.” Duncan turned on his heel and left. Brina glanced back at Jory and Daveth. At some point after she passed out, Alistair and Duncan had wrapped the bodies and draped blue flags with the Grey Warden’s silver griffon sigil over them both. Such a waste, but I understand now. Thank you, Korth, for delivering me from such a fate. Alistair sighed heavily. “Two more dead . . . At my Joining only one of us died, but it was . . . Horrible.” They stood in silence for a time. Brina couldn’t erase the images of their deaths from her mind. Without warning, her stomach growled loudly. Sudden hunger brought cramps to her stomach. “By-the-way, you’re going to be very hungry for a few hours. It was a surprise to me too.” Brina shot him a look of irritation. “Thanks . . .” A broad grin spread across Alistair’s face. “Don’t mention it!” “You could have warned me sooner.” “Where’s the fun in that?” Alistair unbuttoned a pouch on his belt and took out a slice of bread wrapped in cheesecloth. “Here, it’s not much, but it will get you between here and the breakfast fire at the Warden’s Camp.” The hunger prompted Brina to snatch the bread from his hand and devour it in two bites. After she swallowed the last mouthful, her eyes grew in embarrassment and horror. She covered her mouth. “I’m so sorry! I don’t know what’s come over me.” Alistair laughed. “I told you! Go get some food. I’ll take care of everything here.” Brina nodded and went down the steps. She turned at the bottom. Alistair had knelt between both bodies with his head in one hand. This . . . This is only the beginning, isn’t it? Brina, what have you gotten yourself into? She followed the scent of food; eggs, sausages, flatbreads, various roasting meats and fish from the Wilds. Vegetables were somewhat scarce with winter so close at hand. As long as the battle was soon, what food remained would last the journey home, however far it might be. So long as they won. Brina found herself back at the infirmary. It had become familiar. Sister Paulette greeted her with a smile. “Good morning, Sister . . . Ah . . . May I have some of that?” Over the central fire were several pans. One had sliced sausages and scrambled eggs. Brina’s mouth watered and her stomach growled again. “Of course!” “My thanks.” Paulette handed Brina a full plate. She then went to a nearby table and sliced a chunk of bread and spread some butter on it. “Here. A shipment from Rainesfere came in just before you arrived. They haven’t sent soldiers, but at least they are helping . . .” Brina struggled with her food. She wanted to eat it in a single gulp, but she forced herself to eat slowly, one bite and a time. “What is your name, Sister?” Paulette’s face turned red. “I’m sorry, I never introduced myself! My name is Sister Paulette.” “Where are you from?” “Edgehall, originally. I lived in Honnleath for a time when I was little. Then my family moved to Denerim. It was there I joined the Chantry. Being the youngest of six with few prospects, it made the most sense. What about you? I know you’re Avvar . . . But that’s it.” Brina swallowed a particularly large bite. Her appetite was getting the better of her. “My hold is the- was . . . The Black Wolf Hold. I am called Brina Ulriksdotten, daughter of Ulrik Brynjolfsen. He was the Master of Hunt. Considered the best in our region even among the other holds. He was such an expert, the Thane depended on him during war times for organization. My Ma was Aela Caldansdotten O Stone Bear Hold.” Brina laughed to herself at the thought of a story she was once told. “You know, my Da was so good at hunting and tracking, he managed to sneak into Stone Bear, steal my Ma, and sneak out without even leaving footprints. What makes it even more impressive was the fact he had announced he would sneak in that night and challenged the Thane into doubling the guard and having them watch for him.” Paulette nearly dropped her cup. “He stole her? I don’t understand. That’s so . . . That’s so-” “Barbaric?” Brina raised her brows. Paulette blushed again. Brina laughed. “‘Ts all right. I know how it sounds. That’s how it’s done.” Brina paused and took a drink of water, noting that Paulette was listening very intently. “She was willing and even helped. The Thane of Stone Bear was so impressed that he pledged a blood oath to our hold . . . If only they had known we needed help . . .” “What do you mean?” “Do you know how Duncan recruited me?” “The Warden-Commander?” “He was visiting the hold when I underwent my ritual to become a shaman . . . The hold was attacked by nightgangers. Darkspawn. It happened so fast, during the night. No warning. No time to react. Too many for my hold to take.” Paulette's hands were over her mouth. “Oh . . . I- I had no idea . . . I'm s- . . . I'm so sorry, Brina.” Brina shook her head. “I will not rest until every last one of those bastards is dead. It may not bring back my hold, and I'm sure there are too many nightgangers for me to take alone, but I'm going to try.” “I . . . I think I would too . . . were I in your place.” Brina finished off her stew and bread. “Thank you again, Paulette. How are Carver and Aveline? The injured soldiers from yesterday?” “Aveline's fine. Senior Enchanter Wynne completely healed her. She'll go back to the main camp today. Carver-” A commotion broke out. A large man with messy jet black hair and blue eyes tried to force his way between the guards at the entrance. His armor bore no sigil. In fact, it appeared his armor was pieced from multiple sets and were ill-fitted for someone as burly as he was. “I need to see my brother! I need to see Carver!” “Ser, you cannot just barge in here! The patients here need rest to heal.” From across the infirmary, Wynne approached calmly. She placed a hand on one guard's shoulder and the other on Carver's brother's arm. The men stopped struggling. “Ma'am, are you in charge here? Please, how is Carver? I only just heard. When the soldiers didn't report back this morning, I thought he was dead! But he is here . . . I must see him. Please.” Wynne turned to the guards. “It's all right. Let him in. I will take him to his brother.” The guards released him. “Thank you. Where is he?” “This way. What is your name, Ser?” “Garrett. Garrett Hawke.” Wynne and Garrett approached a tent, where Brina assumed Carver was being kept. “What? What are you doing here?” That was Carver's voice, I think. “What do you mean, 'what am I doing here?' I thought you were dead and then found out you were here. I came to see if you were okay!” “I'm sure you did. You came to gloat because you came back from your scouting mission unscathed.” “Well . . . I- . . . No. All right, maybe. Did you at least get the bastard that did that?” “Do you really care?” “Yes. I need to know you aren't going to go on a revenge rampage.” “Yes, I got him.” “Good. You won't be able to participate in the main battle tomorrow.” “What? They said I'd be good to go!” “I say you're not.” “That's not fair! You're not Mother. You're not Father either!” “Carver . . .” “No! Say it. Say I'm going to be at the battle!” “I just don't think you're ready.” “I'm going. I don't care what you say.” “You-” Garrett cut himself off before growling. He was silent for a moment. “Fine, but you will be at my side the whole time. Mother can't know. Or Marian . . . Or Bethany for that matter. This is between you and me.” Brina couldn't see them, but Carver's voice dripped with sarcasm. “Yes, Mother.” Garrett sighed loudly. “How do you feel?” “Fine.” “I'll . . . I'll let you rest . . .” Garrett emerged from the tent, rubbing his face. Under his breath, as he passed Brina and Paulette, he muttered, “Fucking little shit. He's damn lucky I love 'im.” Brina glanced at Paulette. “Well . . . That answers that . . . I must be going.” “Oh! All right.” Brina made her way to the Grey Warden Camp to find Alistair. At the entrance, another guard stood watch. At first, he eyed her suspiciously but seemed to recognize her. “Warden Brina?” “Aye.” “A messenger was just sent to find you. Report to Warden Constable Amaya. She has some equipment for you.” “Where is she?” “Follow this row. Third on the right.” Brina followed the row and stopped at the third tent on the right. The flap was tied open. She bent to glance inside. “Well don't just stand there. Come on in.” “Oh!” She entered the tent but was unable to stand upright. The tent was too short for her. As her eyes adjusted to the dimly lit tent, Brina was surprised. Warden Constable Amaya was a dwarf. Her hair was shoulder length and mostly grey. Half of it was pulled back into a ponytail. What was surprising to Brina, was the fact that most female dwarves she had encountered kept a clean-shaven face. Amaya had thick mutton chops on her cheeks and a long braided goatee that was tucked into her belt. This dwarf was obviously a warrior. Her armor was made of thick plate. The few bits of visible leather and cloth were dyed blue, matching the Grey Warden sigil that decorated most of the tent's furnishings. Inside the tent sat a cot and a table covered in maps and messages. A gigantic, very thick two-handed hammer was propped against the bed. A large number of mugs laid about as well. It was then Brina realized the air smelled heavily of liquor. It was almost enough to make Brina feel warm and fuzzy. “So, I see you survived the Joining. Good thing, too. We lost every single recruit in the last three groups.” Amaya never once looked up at Brina; instead she was focused on one particular map in front of her. “Be prepared for nightmares until the sodding Archdemon is dead. Then get used to it. Drinking helps sometimes. Drowns it out.” Amaya looked at her. “Until then, you need better gear. You can keep your staff . . . Or whatever that is, but we have armor that will better protect you from melee and ranged attacks. And, as a Warden, you're expected to bear the sigil.” Amaya gestured at Brina, and they left the tent. Brina was relieved to stretch upright again. She blinked at the bright light. “Normally, I'd tell you that you'll be kept to the back, up high so you can strike at a distance, but the Warden-Commander told me he has a different job for you. So your gear has some modifications.” They walked all the way down the row and stopped in front of a blacksmith. “Hey! Jerome!” The man stopped hammering. “Yes, Warden Constable?” “Is the new recruit's shit done?” “Eh? Oh, yea. It's here. Just got it back from the Tranquil about ten minutes ago.” Blacksmith Jerome went to a chest and pulled out several armor pieces; several layers of chainmail and padded leather, a metal breastplate, bracers and shin guards, a set of rerebraces with griffon-shaped pauldrons, and cuisses. Lastly, she was handed a helmet with griffon wings adorning the sides. “Oh, Sweet Tyrrda's Tits . . . I've never worn anything like this before . . .” Warden Constable Amaya blinked at her. “That's right. I forgot you're a savage. Come, I'll take you to Warden Lorrel. She was one of the last recruits who survived before you. She's also a mage. She can show you how to put on your shit. This way. Thanks, Jerome.” Jerome grunted and resumed hammering. Brina followed Amaya two rows over and back up the direction they had come. They were about seven tents down from the entrance. Both flaps were tied back. “Hey! Lorrel! Help this new Warden.” Amaya turned on her heel and left. Brina stood looking back and forth between the tent and the dwarf. An elf appeared from the darkness. “She's a bit much, 'in't she?” “Ah, aye . . .” “Ya never worn armor before, have ya?” Brina shook her head. “A'ight, com'on. First, take off your outer layers, but keep your small clothes on . . . Trust me. Chaffs less . . . then put this on.” Lorrel tossed one of the chainmail layers at her. Brina noticed it had a soft cloth layer on the inside and had straps that went around her feet and hands to keep the sleeves and legs from riding up. Gaps on the inside of her elbow and knees for improved moving and comfort were also present. Brina noted the flap tied between her legs. And here I thought I'd have to worry about bathroom breaks. “Okay, now this layer.” Lorrel tossed another layer of chainmail. This draped over her like a tunic with straps at the sides. It went down to her knees. Lorrel threw the padded leather. It also hung like a tunic and was about the same length as the chainmail tunic. It was striped blue and white with a black belt around her waist. “I'll help ya with everything else. They're tricky the first couple times.” Lorrel slid the breastplate over Brina's head and tightened the straps. The bracers had leather gloves attached. Brina got them on, and Lorrel tightened the belts. The rerebraces and pauldrons were trickier, but soon they were strapped to her upper arms and shoulders as well. Brina slipped her boots on. The shin guards covered the front of her knees and part of the top of her foot with tiered plate. The cuisses attached to her belt. When it was all on, Lorrel helped her connect them together. “There now! A proper Grey Warden ya are!” “Thank you.” She glanced outside, and a realization hit. Brina's eyes grew wide. “Hakkon's balls, I'm late! I'm sorry, I must go. I need to get to a meeting. Thank you, again!” Brina ducked through the opening of the tent and dashed out of the camp back toward the old temple. On the way out, the guard at the entrance yelled after her. She didn't hear most of it, but managed to catch the words “Alistair” and “war meeting.” She waved behind her.