#let them bloom so you will get rid that dark mind of yours

[outofmychaos]

I'll plant flowers in your mind where its roots will reach your deepest dark thoughts

[fieldofdaisiies]

azriel x eris | 2,9k words | warnings: none | masterlist

“Don’t you like it? Your present.” Cassian claims the spot right next to Azriel on the couch, letting himself slump against the soft pillow and bracing his arm on the headrest behind Azriel. The shadowsinger offers his brother a small smile. 

“I do like it, Cass.” He looks at the package of beef jerky in his hands. “I really do like it.

A contented smile blooms on the general‘s face, but Azriel’s gaze strays and—

He feels nothing. Absolutely nonchalance fills his entire being at the scene that unfolds itself in front of him. Just a year ago it would have destroyed him, broken his heart but now…?

Nothing. Indifference.

Elain is seated next to Lucien, a spectacle since she formerly has hardly ever sought him out or chosen to be anywhere near him. But now she is sitting there, next to him, a fine distance between them, but she is still next to him and in her hands there is a present with beautiful green wrapping and a golden bow on top of it.

The look of silent surprise stays on Lucien’s face, eyes solely trained on his mate, almost like the world around them has faded into insignificance, like nothing in this room matters more to him than Elain does. 

A pang of jealousy fills Azriel’s heart, and he clenches his jaw. He is not jealous of Lucien, more about everyone who has someone who loves them. He wants someone to look at him that way—he wants to look at someone that way. He wants someone who—

He wants a mate! Nothing has changed about that. He wants love and a fucking mating bond. 

“This is for you.” Azriel can’t hear Elain from across the room but he can read her lips well enough and turns away.

“Have you opened Nes‘ present?” Cassian looks so joyful and Azriel wants nothing more than to share this bliss with him, but it is so hard at this moment.

“Loved it.” The shadowsinger forces a smile onto his lips—one that doesn’t reach his eyes but it is the most he can offer his brother.

“She loved yours as well.”

Azriel’s face reveals nothing, but he dips his chin and despite his outer nonchalance, his heart warms. He bought bookmarks for the three Valkyries. Not any kind of bookmarks, but three that specifically represented them. He can’t wait to give Gwyn hers, and see the smile on her face.

Nyx is the one to receive the most presents, no one having been able to resist buying tons of things for him. He looks a bit overwhelmed at one point, just staring wide-eyed at the large pile of all sorts of things in front of him. Nevertheless he seems blissful and content, sitting amidst all his toys and stuffed animals.

Azriel is happy that Nyx gets to experience this sort of childhood and happiness. He is surrounded by nothing but love and joy (neglecting the brewing war and Koschei for a moment). Within the confines of Velaris he is safe and protected and can be a happy child. Something Rhys, Cass and Azriel himself did not have – a happy, careless childhood. 

A lump forms in Azriel’s throat and he gets up. He tells Cassian that he will help himself to a drink so he has an excuse to leave the room. He just needs to get out for a moment – needs a moment for himself.  

Once in the kitchen, the shadowsinger braces his broad, scarred hands on the sink, staring out of the window into the dark and snow-covered garden, faelight dancing on the endless, glittering white. Tilting his head to the side, he rests it on his shoulder and looses a long breath. Involuntarily, his mind wanders to a certain prince of the Autumn Court and he wonders how Eris celebrates Solstice. Do they even celebrate it in Autumn?

He can’t understand why he kissed him again that night after the ball. What had driven him? What made him kiss the heir again? What is it about Eris that attracts him that much?

Azriel knows that he can’t allow these feelings, but staying away from Eris and trying to clamp down on them, slowly shreds his heart into pieces. As much as he wants to get rid of his desire for Eris, he can’t. He finds himself in a wholly messed up situation, and everything path outwards, turns into a dead end without a hope of escaping. 

And furthermore, what if there was more between him and Eris, could he bring him to celebrate Solstice with him? Starfall? Their birthdays? 

How would the others react? Would they allow Eris to come here for such a celebration or would there forever be an odd tension? A feeling as is not everything is alright? Of course it would. It wouldn’t be proper. It wouldn’t work out. 

But, anyway, it will never come to that, Azriel knows this. Maybe their tension and desire will lead to them eventually fucking one day, but further than that…nothing. They will never end up in a relationship with each other, it couldn’t work out. Not between the two of them. Not with the hate still lingering between them. Too much has happened. 

“Thank you for your present.”

Azriel whips around, eyes landing on Nesta who casually leans against the doorframe, her head resting on the dark wood. “I love it, it is wonderful.” A beautiful, warm smile appears on her face. 

Azriel bows his head, his shadows swirling around him. 

“Especially that it matches with Gwyn’s and Emerie’s.” Her smile brightens. 

“I’m glad you like it.” The shadowsinger cracks a small smile and rests his weight against the kitchen counter. In her eyes he sees the silent understanding that always glows within the light blue when she looks at him. Nesta knows that things aren’t so easy for Azriel, and she understands and accepts him the way he is. Respects his silence. Nevertheless, she always looks out for him, asks how he is doing, sits down in the living room with him when he returns from a mission and is just there for him, mostly no conversation passing between them. But Nesta always wants him to know that she is there for him. She is a wonderful friend, and Azriel is happy that he can call her such. 

“Do you need anything, Az?” Nesta asks and pushes off the doorframe. “Can I get you something?”

But Azriel shakes his head, shadows gliding down his arms, to his palms and around his hands. “I’m all good. I just needed a moment…”

Her head dips in understanding and with another small smile she slips back into the living room, Azriel’s gaze following her until she is gone. 

﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌

“Where are you going?” A cool breeze weaves its way in through the open balcony door, winding its way across the room until it reaches the general of the Illyrian armies, who stands with his wings folded neatly behind his back.

Azriel takes a step back. “I‘m leaving now.” 

Cassian’s puckers his brows. “It isn’t even midnight, Az, why would you be leaving now?”

“I‘m tired.” 

“Does this have to do with what you told me the other day?”

Azriel frowns, but then the corners of his mouth turn downward and his shoulders droop. There is no need for him to say yes, Cassian can read him well enough, having known Azriel nearly his entire life, and has already seen the answer in his best friend’s eyes.

“Az.” Cassian moves quickly and reaches for his best friend the moment he is close enough. Despite Azriel’s efforts of shoving his arms away, Cassian pulls him to his chest, and holds him. It is all he does. And all Azriel needs. His body reacts and he slumps against Cassian, the last ounce of energy slipping from his body, exhaustion weighing him down like a heavy cloak. And his restraints loosen, given way to all the emotions he has been clamping down on this evening.

“I fucking hate it, Cass,” he finally admits, each word lifting some of the heavy weight from his heart. “Being jealous of what everyone has. I shouldn’t be, that’s not how friendship or family works. I‘m a fucking asshole for thinking that way.”

Cassian says nothing, but he holds him tighter. Azriel’s chest heaves with a deep inhale.

“I can’t do this anymore.” Azriel trembles. “Every step forward feels like wading through quicksand. Everything is pulling me down, until I‘m swallowed wholly, drowning in my fucking despair. Each and every day more of my happiness slips through my fingers, until one day I know nothing will be left.”

“Az.” Cassian’s hand clasps the back of Azriel’s head, holding him tightly. “Why didn’t you come to me earlier?”

“I couldn’t,” Azriel says in a silent voice. “I didn’t even realise what was going on.”

After a moment they part, but Cassian does not let go of his best friend, he grasps his shoulder tightly and says, “You are not an asshole for wanting what others have. For wanting a mate, or love or happiness.” The general smiles kindly.

“You would be an asshole if you didn’t grant us our happiness, but I know you are happy for us and that can’t possibly make you an asshole.”

Azriel tightly holds onto Cassian until he steps out of his embrace. “It’s just difficult for me right now.” 

“I know,” Cassian says and Azriel’s heart feels hollow all of a sudden. Cassian says he knows, but Azriel is aware that it's only a fraction of the truth because the shadowsinger can’t share everything with his brother and it slowly destroys him. 

Yes, he is feeling this way, sad and somehow tormented because everyone around him is falling in love and finding a mate. Everyone but him. But Azriel also feels that way because of Eris. Because he slowly starts to figure out what that emotion deep within his heart means. And also what the tug at his chest, the glowing of his soul whenever Eris is near, hints at. He doesn’t want to accept it, tries to push the thoughts away, but at some people he will have to deal with.

“I think I just need some rest tonight. Solstice was beautiful, but I am really tired.”

Cassian understands, and of course gives his best friend the space he needs.

When Azriel returns to his flat only moments later, the place so cold and empty even his shadows seek comfort with their owner, Azriel strips out of his clothes, safe for his underwear and pours himself a glass of liquor. Then he walks up to the window, and longingly stares out into the darkness and nothingness of the outside world. He loves to look out on this side of his flat – no city lights, no people. Where on the one side, his flat is looking down upon the city of Velaris, on the other side there is nothing but forest and mountains. 

Azriel rests his forehead against the cool glass after having taken a sip of the liquid that now burns its way down his throat. 

"If you need to fuck someone, go to a pleasure hall and pay for it, but stay away from her” is what Rhysand had told him the previous year and Azriel also ended up being alone that night of Solstice, staring out of the window for a long time before heading up to the training pitch. He felt so ashamed and annoyed that night, Azriel can barely allow himself to think back to it.

This year it is different. This year he is truly all alone, and despite it being an odd feeling it is simultaneously not unwelcome. The shadowsinger can be alone here with his thoughts that make no sense and his heart that beats an ounce faster when his mind once again strays to Eris. 

The Mother isn’t making it easy for him, Azriel knows this. First, Mor. Then Elain. And now Eris. But with Eris it is different. He is a male first and foremost all, and his enemy. Only months ago, he loathed him, hated him so much for what he had done to Mor, what he had said about her. 

But slowly realisation is taking root in his brain in that he and the prince to the Autumn Court might have more in common than he used to think. 

Azriel releases a pent-up breath and as he holds his gaze through the window, he realises that a darkness gathers in his eyes until it fills them completely. 

In the end, it is exhaustion after an emotionally draining day that makes Azriel fall into bed, sheets tucked up to his chin, lids heavy and nothing but Eris on his mind. 

﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌

The Autumn Court prince’s eyes follow a single droplet that slides down the floor-to-ceiling window before he turns around, knuckles white from how tightly he is holding onto his glass of wine. 

“I doubt Kallax is coming for Solstice,” he tells no one in particular, knowing his father doesn’t listen and his mother is heart-broken about it but doesn’t let it show. 

Beron snarls, “I couldn’t care less.”

But that is wrong, Eris can see it in his father’s eyes, knows that it bothers his father more than he would admit. Despite not having experienced any kind of love from his father when growing up, he knows that for Beron family was always something important. The picture of their family —mother, father and their seven or six strong, powerful sons— always needed to be perfect. It is the kind of thing Beron values greatly.

Eris moves to the table and sits down in silence, once again mixing together most of the food the sentries have placed on his plate. 

“The jacket you have chosen is beautiful,” Imala says in a gentle tone, her eyes moving over Eris’ attire. Has he donned this jacket specially for Solstice? No, he hasn’t. Rather for himself. 

“Cobalt doesn’t fit the Autumn Court,” is all Beron says, not even deigning his son a real look, merely lifting his gaze from his plate, his tone a mix of annoyance and mock. 

He takes a bite of meat, chewing so loudly, Eris has to cringe. He hates the noise of chewing and especially when it comes from his father. He grinds his teeth hard and then pins the High Lord with a look. 

Beron ignores it, but eventually swallows only so he can talk again. “It suits the Night Court.”

Eris’ blood runs cold and he has no idea what his father is aiming at. Can he scent Azriel on him? Can he scent what they have done?

“Which makes me think,” Beron continues, speaking in a low, and slow voice, dragging his fork through his mashed potatoes. “Was Lucien there?” The question does not only catch Eris off guard but also his mother. 

Eris decides to act dumb, despite that never being a good idea with his father. “What?” he asks, not lifting his eyes from his plate and scooping up a bit of the mashed potatoes (now) mixed with beans and gravy.

“Spare me with your stupidity, son, and answer my question!” Beron spits, voice dripping with venom. “Was Lucien there?”

“No, he wasn’t.”

“Are you sure?”

“He wasn’t there, father!”

Beron shakes his head. “But his pretty, little mate was there.” No question, but a statement.

“I don’t think so.” Eris swallows thickly, the piece of meat nearly getting stuck in his throat. He won’t put Elain in danger. Never and especially not after the kindness she has shown him.

“What does that mean? That you don‘t think so. Was she there or not?!” Beron’s fork clatters to the table, rattling both the plate and his glass of wine.

“I didn’t see her, father.”

Eris doesn’t understand what his father grumbles in answer, but the annoyance and dismissal are loud and clear within the incomprehensible words. 

“At least she isn’t inferior scum like Jesminda was.” Beron shoves his plate back, tipping his chin so two of the sentries come rushing to collect his dishes. 

Eris veils his face in indifference and says nothing. Everything he could say would lead to a big fight and he is too exhausted to go through this now. And then what follows a fight with Beron – punishment. Whatever he could say wouldn’t change anything anyway – it is useless. With Beron it always is. 

Without a word, Eris slowly moves back his own plate, then his chair and gets up. 

“Good night, mother,” he says, then turns to his father and dips his chin. 

He is alone when he arrives in his room and this is good. He wants to be alone, safe for his hounds, of course, who have already claimed their spots on and around his bed. 

He exhales loudly while undressing and untangling his long strands of red hair. 

Beron. Lucien. Azriel. It is only males that make his life complicated. Well, not entirely. Mor has also created many complications for him, but still, the great majority of his problems are caused by males, and lie within the males in his life.

He needs to fix it all. He needs to make sense of everything, put things in order. And he will start with Beron. Putting an end to it and then starting anew. Beron’s reign has to end, and it has to end soon. No more time can be wasted. 

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[khazadspoon]

Day 4 entry two days late because I’m a nervous Nelly but now I’m brave enough to post. Jonah kisses Mr Favor because he is dealing with some internal stuff.

———

Jonah was drunk, or at least well on his way to being drunk. That was the only explanation really. Or at least that’s what Gil told himself in the days after.

He helped the man back to his room with an arm around his waist, smiling softly at the quiet and tuneless humming. Jonah was an odd fellow, keeping to himself for the most part but coming out of his shell when you caught him alone. Gil liked him. He was good at following orders, yes, but he was also sharp eyed and keenly intelligent. But there was something about him that was… different.

Rowdy knew, or he had implied as such, but whatever it was had remained a secret. In time, if the man wanted to tell him, Gil would listen. For now he let it be. Men’s secrets were their own, after all.

He nudged the hotel room door open with his hip and guided Jonah through, smiling a little more at the muttered curse as Jonah stumbled to take off his boots. They were scuffed and well worn. Gil thought they must be very comfortable, soft as butter perhaps. He reached down and helped the man stand up straight.

“Here, let me-”

He stopped mid sentence, his attention caught by Jonah staring up at him with wide, almost grey-blue eyes.

“I think,” Jonah started, his voice breathy, “if it had been you, I might’ve been happy to be a bride, for a while at least.”

Gil blinked at the words. They burrowed into his mind and settled there like dormice.

Then Jonah kissed him.

His lips were soft, softer than they had any right to be. His hip and shoulder were warm under Gil’s hands, his breath a gentle sigh as he stretched up to reach Gil’s lips.

Despite himself, despite how he knew it was a bad idea (a terrible idea, a dangerous idea, liable to get one or both of them badly beaten at least should anyone find out) he found himself kissing back. His hands moved, arms wrapping around the shorter man until they were pressed together, his neck bent so he could kiss him easier, and the shaky moan that came from Jonah’s chest made his gut twist pleasantly. He felt Jonah’s hands on his shoulders, felt the warmth of a tongue against his lips and made a soft sound in his throat. He parted his lips, let Jonah in and tasted the rum they had been drinking, heat blooming somewhere in his stomach.

It had been so long since he had-

And then it was over. Jonah tore himself away and turned to face the bed, his back to Gil and the door. It looked like he was shaking.

“I’m- I’m sorry. I… just go.”

Gil stood for a moment, lips tingling, his hands still halfway raised where he had been holding on to the man. He could see the tremor in Jonah’s hands as he folded his jacket. The urge to step forward, to reach out and take Jonah in his arms again struck him like a mule kick to the stomach.

Jonah whirled, something cold and broken in his eyes. “Please, Mister Favor, go! Leave me!”

Gil shut his mouth, swallowed, and turned away. The door shut behind him with a click that was almost deafening in the quiet hallway. He went back down the stairs and to the saloon across the street, eyes glancing up to the dark window where Jonah’s room was. The lamp was doused. The curtains were shut.

“Everything alright, boss?” Rowdy asked when he walked in and sat down.

“Mm.”

Rowdy didn’t look convinced. Gil didn’t blame him.

“Well if you change your mind, I’m all ears.”

He took the beer from in front of his ramrod and drank deeply, hoping that if he could wash the taste of Jonah from his mouth he could somehow get rid of the warmth of him too, and forget the broken pain in his eyes.

Rowdy didn’t complain as the drink was taken. He waved the bartender over and ordered another, rubbed his cheek with one hand and drummed his fingers on the wooden bar top.

“Somethin’ just happened. I don’t know… it probably ain’t gonna mean anything but-” Gil shook his head and felt a sigh work it’s way up his throat. He felt dazed. “I don’t know.”

Rowdy frowned, his eyes far too keen for a man who had spent the better half of the day in the saloon. “What do you mean?”

“Not here.”

He followed Gil from the saloon, the questions he was obviously holding in clear on his face.

When Gil explained what had happened, the surprise Gil had expected didn’t come.

“I mean, he didn’t exactly hide it, boss.”

Gil stared at his ramrod. “Uhh…”

“You mean, you really didn’t notice?” Rowdy raised an eyebrow. “Come on, boss, you can’t be that dense.”

Had it been any other moment, Gil would have considered smacking Rowdy on the back of the head for the comment. As it was, he just stared down at his boots. “I… I really didn’t notice. But now I know, it’s hard not to.”

They walked through the darkened town and stopped by the stable. Rowdy glanced at him a little nervously, the expression strange on his usually cute face. “I know it ain’t my place, but I feel I gotta say something. You be careful with him. He’s-”

“Older than you,” Gil interrupted with a small smile. “Than me, too, by a few years.”

“Let me finish!”

Gil raised his hands, suitably admonished.

“He ain’t like us. This,” Rowdy gestured to the town around them, “this ain’t his life! He should be in some city sippin’ fancy tea with his pinky- well, his left pinky sticking up.”

“I know, Rowdy. I know.” He rubbed his face, fingers lingering on his lips for a moment. “You coming back to camp?”

Rowdy nodded.

Gil glanced back over his shoulder as the rode away, eyes finding the little hotel room. Hopefully Jonah would sleep the memory away. He wouldn’t, he was sure he’d spend most of the night thinking about it, but… maybe Jonah would.

[chronically-peach]

You’re On Your Own, Kid but it’s Jean

“I wait patiently, he’s gonna notice me. It’s okay, we’re the best of friends.”

Jean desperate for any ounce of attention he can get from Kevin. For Jean, Kevin is the only source of light in the nest. A ceiling full of stars in a room full of darkness. As long as he can have Kevin’s affection he’ll be okay.

“I didn’t choose this town, I dream of getting out. There’s just one who could make me stay, all my days.”

Despite being taken to Evermore against his will Jean would stay if Kevin wanted him to. Hell even if Kevin didn’t want him to. He would stay for Kevin because he would never leave him alone in the nest. They were a pair, a set that couldn’t be separated. He would never leave Kevin to feel the wrath of Riko alone.

“I waited ages to see you there. I search the party of better bodies. Just to learn that you never cared.”

The winter banquet was Jean’s chance to see Kevin again. Finally, after all this time they would be together again. As the night goes on he watches Kevin with the foxes, he sees the life Kevin has without him. It starts to sink in that Kevin was never coming back for him, he would never be saved like he had been so foolishly promised.

“I see the great escape, so long Daisy May. I picked the petals, he loves me not. Something different bloomed.”

When Jean finally is freed from the nest he doesn’t know what to do. He’s back with Kevin but it’s different, it’s all wrong. He escaped but nothing was the way it needed to be. Then he met Jeremy and everything changed. Something bloomed from a part of him he thought had died.

“From sprinkler splashes to fireplace ashes, I gave my blood, sweat, and tears for this.”

Jean had given literally everything for Exy, for Riko. He gave his body, his soul, his mind, his happiness. He gave it all up, but he gave it all for freedom in the end. He gave it for a chance at a life that didn’t make him want to die anymore. He gave everything but he was rewarded in the end.

“I looked around in a blood soaked gown and I saw something they can’t take away.”

It’s been months since he joined the Trojans and he can’t get rid of his Ravens mindset. After so many years he was still one of them. A team change wasn’t enough to cleanse him of a lifetime of bloodshed. Jeremy is patient with him anyways. He coaxes out the softness that Jean thought was long gone. As time continues and the world doesn’t come down around him Jean begins to realize he can have Jeremy. Nobody was going to take him away. Even if they tried he would never let them.

“There were pages turned with the bridges burned, everything you lose is a step you take. So make the friendship bracelets, take the moment and taste it. You’ve got no reason to be afraid.”

Jean realizes during a mundane afternoon that he doesn’t have to be afraid anymore. His life was completely changed. He was living a reality he never thought he’d get. He was alive longer than he ever planned to be and it was magic. He lost who he used to be, he lost the only life he knew but it was all for the better. He has friends now, even if he would rather light himself aflame than admit it to them. He has Jeremy, a love that makes him feel safer than he ever has. Everything he lost was for this. Every day he’s alive he’s thankful for it. Every birthday that passes he’s secretly grateful to have aged another year. He no longer wishes to be dead.

[sakura-samsara]

Yoichi Main Story: Chapter 5 Normal Story

← Chapter 5

Yoichi: Aww, man. I really hate working off-schedule. 

Yoshino: Yoichi-san?!

Yoichi: That’s me.

He hurled another knife at the ayakashi, the flash of its blade splitting the black of night. 

The ayakashi let out a roar, and its mistlike form dispersed until it seemed like it had dissolved into the darkness.

Yoichi: Get over here, Yoshino!

Yoshino: !!

My body moved faster than my mind at the very moment that I heard him call for me. 

I dashed to Yoichi’s side despite the limp in my gait—at the same time, the dark shadow began to coalesce again, writhing with new vitality.

Yoshino: No…!

Yoichi: Well, this isn’t good. If a knife isn't going to cut it, there’s nothing else I can do. 

(How can he say that so casually?!)

Yoichi: Now—oof!—up you go.

Yoshino: Yoichi-san?! What are you doing??

He’d hooked his arm under my knees and lifted me up against his chest with ease.

Yoichi: Stay still, mmkay?

Yoichi spoke in a hushed voice, breaking into a sprint with me still held tight in his arms.

Yoshino: P-Put me down! You’re putting yourself in danger…

Yoichi: No way am I letting you do any running. Your leg’s injured, from the looks of it. Just keep quiet and hang on. 

(He noticed…)

Warmth bloomed in my chest as I entrusted my body to Yoichi despite my disorientation.

I cast an apprehensive look back towards the ayakashi—it hadn’t caught up to us just yet.

(It looks like the ayakashi needs to take a while to recover after it’s attacked.)

Yoshino: What are you even doing here in the first place?

Yoichi: Yashichi ran to my stand and begged me to come rescue you. Kid was just bawling his eyes out, so it wasn’t like I could say no. 

Yoshino: So Yashichi-kun called for help after all…

(Thank goodness that he returned safe and sound!)

(...But that makes this the second time that Yoichi-san’s saved me, now.)

Yoshino: …Thank you, Yoichi-san.

Yoichi: Don’t thank me just yet. 

He jabbed a finger out at the darkness,

and I followed its line to see the ayakashi creeping towards us almost vengefully. 

(....)

We had hidden ourselves in a grove of trees, but the ayakashi was still roving through the thicket as though it was searching for us.

Yoichi: Sure, I could run around playing cops and robbers with that thing all night.

Yoichi: But if we don’t deal with it eventually, we’re gonna end up bringing it back to town with us when we go back.

(If that happens…!)

Yoshino: We can't let it attack the townspeople!

Yoichi: Ehh, speak for yourself. It’s not like I've got any reason to care about the people of Kamakura.

Yoshino: How could you—?!

I swallowed the rest of my words before they could spill out.

(Yoichi-san came all this way to rescue me.)

(Regardless of why he did it, it’s not right for me to complain about what he says when he’s helping me.)

Yoshino: I just wish I could use my powers to get rid of it…

Yoichi: What? You can’t even use them?

Yoshino: I tried, but… Yeah… I have no idea how I was able to use them without thinking earlier. 

Yoichi: …

Yoichi: I heard Kurama tell Yoshitsune-sama something once.

Yoichi: Supernatural powers are transferred to and from the soul. Using them is less about thinking and more about feeling. So, the stronger your will to use them is, the stronger they’ll end up manifesting. Or something like that.

(That means…)

Yoshino: So you think I can’t use my powers well because I don’t believe enough in myself? 

Yoichi: That could be it, yeah.

(...Well, I was pretty doubtful about whether or not I’d be able to use my possession powers when I tried earlier.) 

Yoshino: So, if I try my hardest to will myself to use their power… will I finally be able to do it? 

Yoichi: Sure, yeah.

I looked intently at Yoichi in spite of his indifferent response. 

Yoshino: Yoichi-san, please put me down and stand back.

(Yoichi-san is right. There’s nothing we can do about the situation just by standing around.) 

(This time, I will stop the ayakashi before it attacks the town!)

Yoichi: ……

I held his gaze as he cast a long look at me, as though he was sizing me up. 

Yoichi: Nah, I don’t think I will.

(Huh?)

Yoichi: If you’re gonna use your powers, why don’t you use them with me by your side?

Yoichi: That way, I can have your back. 

He drew a knife from his pocket, so deftly that it seemed to appear out of thin air. Like a magic trick.

Yoshino: But…

Yoichi: Oh? You’re worried about me? You’re such a sweetheart.

(That wasn’t what I—)

The spark of mirth that always danced in Yoichi’s eyes suddenly disappeared, his face now cast in a serious light.

Yoichi: You’re the kind of person who’d throw your life in danger just to protect a little fox you found on the side of the road. 

Yoichi: So if you’re gonna try using your powers again, I think it’s best if you’ve got someone to protect you while you’re at it.

(...So he’s saying he won’t leave? He’ll stay with me?)

Yoshino: I just don’t get why you would help me. What’s in this for you…?

(From what I’ve learned about Yoichi-san, he doesn’t seem like he does things purely out of the kindness of his heart.) 

That devil-may-care smile reappeared on his face, but I had a feeling that he was far more calculating than he let on. 

Yoichi: You’re lucky I’m such a nice guy. I’ll only ask you for a contingency fee.

Yoshino: What do you want…?

Yoichi: Your trust.

Yoshino: Huh…?

Yoichi: I’m not asking you to trust in me completely.

Yoichi: But if you can manage to get rid of that ayakashi, I want you to let me into your heart a little.

Yoichi: Well, that’ll be good enough for now, at least.

Yoichi’s eyes glinted provocatively. 

Yoichi: So, what do you say? You gonna take me up on this gamble?

(It’s a risky deal for me to cut.)

(But right now, the only thing that matters to me is defeating the ayakashi, no matter what it takes.)

Yoshino: …I will.

I answered Yoichi with a resolute nod of my head.

Yoshino: Thank you, Yoichi-san.

Yoichi: You’re my partner now. Don’t mention it.

Yoichi: Oh, and by the way—there’s this other thing that I’ve seen Kurama and Yoshitsune-sama do.

Yoichi: You’ve got to have a strong will to use your powers and all that… 

Yoichi: But apparently it’s easier to control them if you associate some kind of gesture with it. 

Yoshino: Some kind of gesture?

Yoichi: You know, like how Yoshitsune-sama swings his sword to help him cast his blades of wind.

Yoichi: And how Kurama uses his war fan to do the same thing. Your gesture can be whatever you want.

(“Whatever you want”? It sounds pretty simple when he puts it that way…)

Yoshino: I guess that makes sense. I’ll give it a shot!

Yoichi: You can do it.

Yoichi stroked my hair with one of his hands.

Yoshino: …What was that for?

Yoichi: Hm? Oh, that? It’s a magic spell that’ll give you courage. 

(He’s as vexing as always… but I do feel a lot less nervous than I did before.)

Yoichi: You ready now, Yoshino?

Yoshino: I’m ready.

Yoichi: Marvelous.

With that, Yoichi picked me back up and dashed in front of the ayakashi.

(Ah-!)

He gently lowered me to the ground—and, a split second after, sent his knife hurtling towards the ayakashi with a practiced flick of his hand.

Yoichi: It’s no fun, hitting a target when it’s this hard to miss.

His knife struck the center of the black mass before us, and the ayakashi let out a groaning howl. 

Yoichi: Now, Yoshino!

Yoshino: …!

I raised my dominant hand high with its palm facing the ayakashi.

(I have to be strong.)

I focused my eyes forward, readying myself to use my power at its full strength.

(Let me take away its power!)

My hair whipped in a sudden gust of wind.

Yoshino: Ah…!

Silver light danced in the periphery of my vision, and I realized that the color of my hair—and my eyes—must have changed again.

(My hand… feels so hot…)

A thick golden haze rose in the air and illuminated the dark surroundings. 

It lingered for a moment before floating towards me, shimmering as it seemed to absorb into the center of my outstretched palm. 

The strange sensation of magic flowing into me shook me to my core, but…

Yoichi: You’ll be alright. I’ve got faith in you, I really do.

Yoichi: So just relax and do your thing. 

One of his hands settled firmly on my lower back as I felt a powerful warmth envelop my whole body.

(Somehow… I’m not afraid anymore.) 

Yoichi drew yet another knife at the ayakashi, ready to protect me.

The ayakashi stretched out towards Yoichi, as if aiming through the mist hanging in between itself and us.

Yoshino: I won’t let you hurt anyone—so you won’t get any further than here.

Yoichi: …

And at last, the tendrils of darkness was dispersed into the golden mist that then flowed back into my body. 

(Even someone like me… is able to be a protector.)

Yoshino: It’s… over…

Yoichi: Mm.

Yoichi: …Beautiful.

I only barely caught the sound of him murmuring to himself as he gazed at the dimming light that surrounded me.

Chapter 6 →

[umedaifuku]

Hello, if you write angst or hurt/comfort, may I request a any character you want x reader, where in the process of time travel, they lost reader. It can end in angst or be hurt/comfort, whichever you want.

However if you don't wrote angst, may i request a short reader headcanon with whoever you like.

Lost Voice (Nightmare)

Mentions: Hurt/Comfort, Angst, Lore style fic?, slight blood, harm (please comment what mentions are in this) , Fem!reader

A/N I'm sorry for this late post. I had to go over it so many times till I thought this was good. Moving on I hope this is good.

'Why can't we all get along?' Slowly sinking to the bottom of the deep blue a young girl is half conscious.

Now lay me down to sleep

'We're humans.' Crimson bubbles escape her mouth.

'It's so dark like an abyss....I'm scared.'

If I shall die before I wake

Y/N began to choke on water. Attempting to swim to the surface the shadows began to drag her down with them. Frailing her arms and kicking the water, she fought to get up. Not wanting to meet her end.

'Please... let me see him... one last time.'

I pray the lord my soul to take

In an alleyway, the sounds of clanging and glass shattering echoed. Y/N threw metal dumpsters against brick walls, spilling the contents. And smashed beer bottles onto the concrete ground.

'What did I do to them?! All I did was tell a family to evacuate their home and they blame me for so called brainwashing them.' Y/N leans against the wall and slides down. Hugging her knees, tears began to slide down her cheeks.

Then she saw it. Something that can help end it all. Y/N picked up the smashed piece of glass and held it in her hand.

'I wish I never had this voice,' she spoke softly. Y/N took deep breaths.

'I can get rid of it,' she closed her eyes tightly. Aiming for her voice box, she hoped it would tear and hurt her badly.

It never came.

'Huh,' Y/N slowly opens her eyes to a pair of cloudy blue eyes. The male looked down at her with his eyes crinkled as he held the piece of glass in his hands.

'Why did you stop me,' she trembled.

'You were going to hurt your voice,' he replied.

'You shoulda' let it happen,' she scoffs. The cloudy blue eyes kneels down at Y/N's figure.

'No one cares. All they care about is me brainwashing them. You're only here to tell them how I'm a freak. A monster. Just leave me,' Y/N commanded. But he didn't leave or move a bit.

'Why isn't my voice working,' Y/N touches her throat with a surprised face.

'Your voice doesn't work on me because I have my headphones on,' he indeed had his headphones on. Y/N didn't notice.

'You know you can be anything you want to be because this world is full of hope. Use your voice to help them,' the cloudy blue eyes smiles.

'Help them... I'll do it... even if they don't want to accept them,' Y/N declares. The male nods.

'Do you want to do this together?' The male lends a hand for her to take. She takes it, and both walk out.

'Um, what's your name? I never got it,' The male turns his head, facing Y/N.

'Yugo Asuma,' Yugo beams. Y/N's lips curl slightly. For the first time, this felt natural to her.

'Y/N Sirene,' She responds softly.

I remember this.. after that Yugo and I were inseparable. We never left each other's sides. I didn't think that this would bloom into something else...

'Yugo you ready for this?' Y/N adjusted the microphone piece closer to her mouth. Yugo smirks and puts his headphones on.

'ARE YOU READY!' Yugo began to turn his turntable and remixed the song that Y/N wrote. Y/N took a breath and began to sing.

'Someone like me can be a real nightmare, completely aware' But I'd rather be a real nightmare than die unaware, yeah Someone like me can be a real nightmare, completely aware But I'm glad to be a real nightmare, so save me your prayers

I, I keep a record of the wreckage of my life I gotta recognize the weapon in my mind They talk shit, but I love it every time And I realize!

Y/N slammed her foot on the stage.

I've tasted blood and it is sweet! I've had the rug pulled beneath my feet I've trusted lies and trusted tech

Broke down and put myself back together again Stared in the mirror and punched it to shatters Collected the pieces and picked out a dagger I've pinched my skin in between my two fingers And wished I could cut some parts off with some scissors

"Come on, little lady, give us a smile" No, I ain't got nothin' to smile about I got no one to smile for, I waited a while for

A helicopter from above hovered over them gaining both of their attention. But Y/N continued.

A moment to say I don't owe you a goddamn-

Before Yugo and Y/N could react the androids smashed their tech equipment causing the crowd to flee.

'OI, OI, OI WHAT THE HELL DO YOU THINK YOUR DOING HERE,' Yugo yelled at the red police.

'DID YOU REALLY CRASH HAVE TO CRASH THE PARTY!' Y/N roars.

'Dj, Singer. We've warned both you several times. And we also told there wouldn't be a next time,' The androids report.

'Haha we're following your rules,' Y/N smiles.

'What's your problem?' Yugo pulls down his headphones. The android projects the rule that was broken.

'A new statutory provision has been established. Article 277 of the android regime under the National Protection Act, records the mental records the mental state of the nation and manages this. The fifth states that in order to record and regulate humanity's mental state, It is strictly prohibited to have more than a certain number of entertainment activities. It has been determined that you are both doing more than the regulated number. Therefore both of you have been determined to be targets of the purge,' The android concludes.

'Do you really think you can manage people's minds like that? No! That's why your going to keep making weird rules, again! You don't understand humans at all,' Yugo says.

'What is this 'The Giver' (a book) because the difference between humans and robots are. That human can make their own decisions and live the way they want. You rust buckets rely on stupid programming,' Y/N sticks her tongue out.

'This has been implemented based on past statistical data and human behavior. We do not need programming overall,' The android adds the last part.

'You don't know why the reason why we're stuck in this place.'

'There is no hope or someone to lead them to the light.'

'You know there's no hope. But we're still playing hard. We need tomorrow too. Come on, we need this freedom.'

'Don't take it,' Y/N and Yugo declare together.

'Whoever refuses to accept out commands will be eliminated. This is our policy.'

'Shut up and listen! You make zero sense! Listen to the people this place is free !' Y/N screams.

'Stay silent and do not disturb the order. Submit to our voice. Know your place, humans,'

'If I have to give up on what I wanna do. I'd rather leave this world,' Yugo smiles sticking his tongue out.

'Baka!' the androids let fire aiming for his eye. Collapsing.

'Yugo!' Y/N ran over to check on him, finding him losing his consciousness.

'Submit to us human or you'll also be eliminated,' the android push the gun towards her throat.

'Fuck off,' Y/N uses her voice to control them. They began to pull the trigger. On her knees her throat was bloody.

'Any last words?' Y/N grabbed Yugo and ran with the androids trailing behind her. She ran to the dock with a dead end. without any choice, she dove down.

This world is cruel... We can't get along people will continue to bud heads... This world is hard to live in...

Y/N towed Yugo somewhere. She tried to cover up her wound but it never stopped flowing. The raging sea broke them apart.

But we can contribute slowly even if it means nothing. Yugo what do you say?

Y/N slowly opens her eyes. Immediately shielding her eyes with her hands from the bright place. She blinks a couple of times and hears children chattering. And people getting along. Y/N began to smile and got onto her feet and ran around the streets. Giggles escape her lips.

'Haha this is a utopia!' she smiles. She turned a corner and found the familiar figure in front of her.

'Yugo! Wait up!' Y/N gently grabs onto his shoulder with a bright smile. That suddenly disappeared.

'Yugo? Who's Yugo?'

I hope you liked this! And sorry for the long story!

[pasteltechno]

I’ll Stay With You Till The Break Of Dawn (angst oneshot)

⚠️Trigger Warnings⚠️

Hurt/comfort, memories of religious abuse, childhood trauma, thoughts of suicide, hypnosis, nightmares, self blaming, mentions of age regression.

Ship:

Pastel Techno x Licorice

Characters:

Pastel Techno (🎤)

Licorice (💀)

Poison Mushroom (🍄)

Pomegranate (♦️)

Aunt Mahalabia

Mille-feuille

Toxipop (🍬)

Cream Unicorn (🦄)

That night, Pastel Techno Cookie came back to the dark table room feeling defeated from losing another argument with Toxipop Cookie. Since Toxipop Cookie broke out of jail, all of her friends and fans mocked Pastel Techno Cookie for being successful, then they attacked her supporters as revenge too. She sat down on her chair and looked down at the table. Eyes darkened as she thought to herself: "Maybe she's right, maybe I am just an attention seeking brat who deserved nothing." But then she heard a voice coming behind her.

♦️: "Is something troubling you?"

It was Pomegranate, only checking if she was okay. She lifted her head to look at her.

🎤: "Toxipop Cookie is back, and she's still getting on my nerves. She's corrupted my mind with these thoughts she casted, and I don't know why..."

Pastel sighed, Pomegranate knows how hurt she is. But she know what she can do to help.

♦️: "Is she really? Is she making you feel this way? ...Perhaps my mirror shall reveal what your fate shall be if the situation you're in keeps going."

Pastel nodded as she looked at Pomegranate's mirror, started to feel hypnotized. Then it magically revealed something horrifying. An image of her "hanging" in flower vines, and flowers blooming from her dough. Tears of sorrow and fear stream down from her hypnotized eyes, softly sobbing as she saw it.

♦️: "I see, so you do feel unsafe around her. These thoughts she fills you leading you to your fate as I see the tears of fear streaming down. Did you really think ending yourself would make cookies the smiles upon their faces? Hm... perhaps I can help you change your fate somehow."

Pomegranate said as she lifts Pastel's chin gently.

♦️: "Choco Berry Cookie, your love for Licorice Cookie is one the ways to help, even though it disturbs me many times. And I sense your mental health is running thin. Whatever happens to you, we cannot let you fall in the same fate like what our master did in the past. I pray for your safety as we speak. Either way, we might be able to find our way to get rid of these thoughts."

More tears streaming down, sobbing slowly gets louder.

♦️: "Hush now, Choco Berry Cookie, I shall sooth your mind with a lullaby spell."

Pomegranate said as she casted a lullaby spell on Pastel. She stopped crying as her eyelids are getting heavy.

♦️: "Rest well, Choco Berry Cookie. I'll soon get Licorice Cookie to hold you until the break of dawn."

Pastel finally starts to fall asleep, just then Poison Mushroom walked in to check on the two cookies.

🍄: "Pomegranate Cookie..? Is Pastel okay..?"

Pomegranate turns around to see Poison Mushroom being concerned.

♦️: "Oh, your dear friend is having a hard day on herself, and her rivals were so very cruel to her. So I decided to help clear her mind."

She told them as she carried Pastel to her room

🍄: "Poor Pastel Techno Cookie, I hope she gets better soon. I found lots of Raspberry shroomies from the the Hollyberry Kingdom, I'll give some to her when she wakes up."

♦️: "That's wonderful, Poison Mushroom Cookie."

She said as she puts Pastel down to bed. As the two leave the bedroom, hours past as the soothing lullaby spell starts to wear off, and Pastel Techno began to dream about the horrors of her childhood past and her fate. And the thoughts kept coming back.

Aunt Mahalabia Cookie: "Such a disrespectful child, always reject the following rules of our Monastery. If she keeps up with her unacceptable behavior, she will never see the holy light of our godly makers!"

Mille-feuille Cookie: "Maybe she still has a childish mindset. If he can refresh her mind, she'll be as kind, truthful, and obedient."

🎤: "No... stop...!"

Aunt Mahalabia Cookie: "What an excellent idea, mother. I shall bring her, and we'll clean the filth of her mindset."

🎤: "Stop...! no more..!!"

Toxipop Cookie: "Aw, what's the matter, "Princess"? Jealous of my victory over you? Ahahaha!!"

The voices of her Aunt, grandmother, and Toxipop kept spouting into her head. She stepped back in fear then bumped into something behind her. She screamed and collapse as she saw a frame of her future death. It's staring at her so soullessly with pitch black eyes. She gets up and runs away from the frame and into a pitch black room. She got tired of running, so she lays down and sobbed. Back outside her dream, her Unicorn plush doll is sitting there on her mirror dresser, and it starts glowing. In her dream, the pitch blackness starts to fade to a purple dreamy world. She stopped crying and looked around. Purple fluffy clouds are below her feet, and the sky is full of stars.

🎤: "Wh... what is this..?"

Suddenly, she heard a clip clops sounding like a horse behind her. She turns around to see a white and colorful unicorn with a sparkly cape and butterflies surrounding them. A silence between the two for a minute or two, then she sighed.

🎤: "Why would I deserve this place? All I did is to make things worse. I deserve nothing but becoming crumbs, not this. Everyone would be better off without me, Toxipop Cookie was right after all..."

She said as she sits down with tears flowing down. The unicorn sat down in front of her.

🎤: "I'm such a horrible cookie..!! I deserve to face the consequences of my existence..! Even though I wanted to go back to be young again..."

More tears keep streaming down. The Unicorn changes to their cookie form, and walked to her. Wiping her tears away and holding her hands gently.

🦄: "You don't have to feel this way, Choco Berry Cookie. And I know how you feel too."

They said in a gentle tone. She looked up to see the unicorn as their form of a cookie.

🎤: "W-what do you mean."

🦄: "You are such a wonderful cookie through the years of your hometown, the Hollyberry Kingdom. Your parents, your cousin, your fans, even you lover Licorice Cookie. They all love you, and everything you do for them. Even Licorice Cookie had the same problems like you do, and you knew how to show your love and kindness to him."

🎤: "Wait a minute... you're the plush I got from my birthday and came to life in my dreams, right?"

🦄: "Why yes, I am!"

They said as she starts to have a sudden realization.

🎤: "So you're... Cream Unicorn Cookie..!?"

🦄: "Yes, you do remember me!"

They quickly gave her a hug as she finally remembered them. She hugged back sobbing.

🦄: "Look at you, all grown up! I could've been more proud of you! The first time I saw you, I couldn't imagine how precious you were back then!"

They both break the hug holding both hands.

🦄: "Maybe someday when you start dreaming again, I'll take you to a place where you feel safe and happy, Cookieland.”

🎤: "Y-yeah, that's sounds nice."

She sniffled as they hand out her childhood blanket, and she wrapped the blanket around her body as they both lie down.

🦄: "Remember that your inner child will always love you no matter what. Don't end your life this way, and embrace the warmth and comfort of your childhood."

🎤: "Th-thank you, Cream Unicorn Cookie..."

They said as they both cuddled in each other's arms.

(Small time skip)

An hour has pasted til midnight, Pastel wake up to see Licorice Cookie waking her up all worried sick.

💀: "Pastel, w-wake up! Are you alright..?"

She can tell he's worried for her. She teared up and hugged him.

🎤: "*sniffle* L-Licorice Cookie..."

💀: "Hey, shh.. I'm here. Everything's okay now.. I'm so sorry that Toxipop Cookie made you feel this way, Pomegranate told me you've been hurt mentally."

Licorice knows what he learned from his beloved girlfriend, love and comfort. Pastel calmed down a bit.

💀: "Now, do you need anything? You've been crying so much, I could get you something to drink if you'd like."

Suddenly he noticed the unicorn plush doll sitting on her mirror dresser. He grabbed and hand it to her.

💀: "I think you need this, right."

🎤: "Mhm.."

She hugged the unicorn doll, then Licorice grabbed his baby blanket he's been keeping for some time, and wrapped it around her body. They both lay down on the bed cuddling.

💀: "I'll Stay With You Till The Break Of Dawn, okay? I love you, Pastel Techno Cookie."

🎤: "Okay, I love you too."

He kissed her forehead went to sleep with her in his arms cradling her. She thought to herself: "Cream Unicorn Cookie... I thank you for being here in my dreams with me. I never knew you were watching over me this entire time growing up. And at this age, I haven't felt so...

.

.

.

.

.

Little."

(P.S damn I'm getting so emotional writing this oneshot 🥹)

[mirkwoodshewolf]

TCATC Chap. 34; A new path ahead

*Author’s note*

And this is it guys, the last chapter of my Hobbit Celestial series. Now like I said I’ll post up some of the LOTR chapter’s I’ve got tomorrow since I’ve been working on that already, plus along with my requests I’ll try to put up some additional oneshots that fit into the inbetween moments between these two stories. 

Thank you all for the love and support of this series to all my of LOTR readers out there for your likes, reblogs etc. so enjoy the last chapter my lovely darlings and until tomorrow :)

SEQUEL CAN BE FOUND HERE

Taglist:

@plethora-of-things​

@waddles03​

@psychosupernatural​

@ixchel-9275​

@jd-johndeacon-or-jackdaniels​

@byersboys​

@queensdivas​

@queen-paladin​

____________________________________________________________

I was in deep meditation up along the waterfalls high up in the mountains.  Not only was I meditating, I was also conversing and training with Mandos.  Some days when I wasn’t training my physicality, I would go off on my own to the mountains and seek council with them.  

And there they would help me to better understand my true power and what I can give to the folks of Middle Earth once I was ready to make my return.

I opened my eyes as I took a soft but deep breath in before exhaling.

“I take that your training with Mandos and Nienna is coming along well?” Cain’s voice spoke up.  I turned my head towards him and softly smiled.

“Aye. Never did I think I could learn so much from them. Much less ever speak to them.”

“Even when she doubted herself, Ajak would seek council with the Kings and Queens of the Valar. For just as they created us along with the all life on Middle Earth, they are there willing to seek council with us.” He said as he came up to me extending his hand to me.  I took it and he helped me stand up. “You’ve really come a long way since you first arrived.”

“Five years but there’s still so much for me to learn.”

“I agree. Don’t mistaken my praise for me wanting to be rid of you so fast. I’m merely stating the facts.”

“And here I thought you were starting to grow tired of me.”

“And cast out my dear, sweet baby sister? I wouldn’t dream of it.” Cain cooed as he brought me into his arms before playfully locking me in a headlock and ruffling my hair (much like Ikaris always did).  I whined but couldn’t help but laugh as I tried to free myself from his grip.  “Hope you don’t plan on leaving too soon.”

“Not a chance Brother.”

“Good. Now come along, you’ve been up here since before dawn and it’s now almost lunchtime.” He released me from his headlock before wrapping his arm carefully over my back and gesturing for me to come back to the cabin.  It was at that moment my stomach let out a loud growl to which Cain softly chuckled, “I don’t need to hear your heartbeat to tell that you’re not hungry.”

“Guess I wanted an early start on my training with Mandos and Nienna.”

“Well let’s fill that stomach of yours up with some proper food. After that you deserve a bit of a break. Remember what I said, work the mind too much—”

“And the body will succumb. I know, I know.” I repeated his statement as we both made the climb down the mountain and back to the cabin.

After getting some lunch I went out back to relax under the sun for a few hours on the hammock I had built.  It was after all a gorgeous Spring day.  Not too hot, but not too cold for that after winter chill.  The flowers were all in bloom and the birds were out and about singing their heads off.

My thoughts would go to my friends whenever I wasn’t training. Wondering what they were doing, how they were doing, if all was well in their life.  I tried my best to not think of the rising darkness I knew Middle Earth was facing with Sauron’s return, for that would only increase my anxiety which in turn makes Cain fret over me like Cersei times 100.

I had to have faith that Gandalf, Lord Elrond, Lady Galadriel and the mortal kings and chiefs I’ve made friends with were able to hold their own until I felt ready to come back.

As the afternoon trudged on, it seemed to be about midday so I decided to head in and get some afternoon tea (I’d imagine that by now Bilbo is having his afternoon tea by now).  Just as I took a sip of my tea, Cain had returned from—somewhere (he didn’t tell me where he was going after lunch).

“And just where did you have to go that was so secret that you couldn’t tell me?” I asked him.

“If I told you it wouldn’t be surprise, now would it?” He said coming over to pour himself some tea.  I took the kettle away from him and argued.

“If you tell me, I’ll still act surprise.”

“You are a cheeky minx aren’t you?” he teased with a smirk pressing his forehead to mine.

“Come now brother won’t you please tell me?”

“After I have my tea, I’ll take you there.”

“Where are we going?” he didn’t say a word but just held out his teacup.  I poured him some tea and he took a small sip of it.  “You better not drink it agonizingly slow just to delay whatever or wherever it is you’re taking me to.”

“Now why would I do a thing like that sister Hela?” he playfully mocked placing his hand over his heart in mock hurt.  I set the kettle down and raised my brow at him as I placed a hand to my hip.

“Must I bring up last winter when you were training me to walk on water? First you showed off your fancy footwork then left me to practically fall in each time while you drank your tea. Which happens to be the exact brand I’m making now.”

“What can I say? While teaching you and loving you, I can’t help but enjoy hearing you struggle. Isn’t that what brothers are for?” he ruffled my hair once again and turned away to drink his tea.

“The one thing I didn’t miss about having brothers.” I muttered softly.

“I heard that.” He spoke up.  I groaned before returning to my tea and finishing it up.

When we cleaned up our glasses and put the tea aside for later, Cain and I left the cabin once more and headed back into the jungle however this time we headed North.

In the Northern part of the jungle, that’s where the large training ground he had built for us was.  Basically it was a wide open field with boulders of various sizes for balancing techniques and leaps as well as strength, a patch of dirt that encircled the outside of the meadow as a track, and close to it a fairly large lake that looked deeper than it appears.

“The Northern training fields? Why did you bring me here Cain?”

“I want to test you on something in regards to Druig’s powers.” He said as he walked forward.  I followed close behind him until we reached the Dark Lake (as what I’ve called it).  “It is said by some of our Elemental brothers and sisters, that water holds memory. Memories that sometimes even we forget, or what we wish to see.”

“Yes. Cersei used to tell me, Makkari and Sprite that all the time when we were young.” He nodded softly.  “But what does this have to do with Druig’s powers?”

“Touch the water.” I looked at him puzzled.  He turned his head towards me, his glowing white eyes staring at me.  “Reach out with Druig’s power and give the water a single touch.” I looked down at the water and did as he said.

My index finger touching the water with the lightest of pressure as the ripples formed out and grew bigger and bigger.

“Now look hard and tell me what you see.” I leaned closer to the water as the ripples continued to extend outward, even after a good minute and a half from when I first touched the water.  Soon an image before to replace my reflection in the water.  A man’s face soon appeared, my hair was soon replaced with long black, unruly hair, a tache with a slight beard at his chin. And deep brown eyes.

“Bard.” I softly whispered his name.  I pulled myself back up and fully turned my body towards Cain.

“Close your eyes.” I tilted my head but he gave me a firm nod. I obeyed and closed them.  “Along with how Druig could one day view the world had he gotten the chance to do so, this is how I see Middle Earth. Reach out with both your mind and your spirit to put yourself before Bard. Hone in on his heartbeat, see yourself where he’s at. Like a Watcher from the White Towers of Gondor, allow yourself to see him from here.”

“Cain I—I don’t know if I……”

“I know you can. You just need to believe you can. The only thing stopping you is yourself. Focus and reach out to him.” I did as he told me.  However this was something far beyond anything I’ve ever been able to do, he even said that not even Druig has gotten the chance to use this technique.

I tried to see if I could reach out to Bard but all I was doing was giving myself a headache.  I let out a couple of pants before trying again.  However no matter how hard I tried, I couldn’t do it.

“I can’t…..Cain I can’t.” I panted softly as I rubbed my temples trying to ease my headache.  I felt him reach out to take my hands and I looked up to him.  A soft smile was across his face and even though his eyes were as blank as snow, they held a gentleness to them.

“You’re force yourself to see him, let your mind flow. And let it guide you to him.” He took my hands down and rested them between us, his thumbs stroking my knuckles as he took a deep breath in and I copied him. We both exhaled deeply at the same time and I closed my eyes.

I kept taking a few deep breaths and focused on Druig’s gem once more.  I imagined Bard and the city of Dale (from what I remembered it looking like before). Suddenly I felt this warmth overcome me and my eyes shot wide open and a flash of bright light came at me.

*Cain’s POV*

I may not have been able to truly see it, but I could tell that Hela’s eyes had glowed the pure gold that is known to happen when we Celestials use the full extent of our powers.  Ajak called it Mahd Wy'ry.  I reached up and touched her temples and I allowed myself to see through her eyes.

*My POV*

When the light died down I found myself standing before Dale but it was just like it was back in its glory days.  Wait did I—did I accidentally travel back in time? Oh Valar I really screwed up now, wait hold on a moment.

I walked ahead and took notice of some of the people that were in the city.  These were the survivors of Laketown and their families, plus new children that had been born here since last I was here.  Over there, there was Hanna and her son Caleb who was growing up into a fine young man with his blonde hair and blue eyes.

He did it. Bard actually did it.  He restored Dale to its full glory once again!

“Come now Caleb we must get to the palace at once. We can’t be late for the Coronation.” Hanna told her son as she grabbed his hand. Coronation, wait they don’t mean—

“I knew all along he could do it. First the dragon, then the battle for the Mountain, then reforging this city and now King. Oh Bard you have done us all proud laddie.” Hilda Blanca spoke as she came in wearing a much cleaner and finer dress and pushing a cart with the finest silks that I’ve only seen at Gondor or Rivendell.

“Surprised?” Cain’s voice soon came beside me.  I turned over to him and said.

“This is Bard’s Coronation as King, isn’t it?”

“Aye.” He replied with a soft nod and a warm smile.  “Ever since you told me about this man, I’ve been keeping tabs on him. I can see now why you’ve stuck around him and his ancestor Girion. They are both honorable men. Thinking of others before themselves.”

“That’s what also made them great friends. Even when most of the mortals would bow before me like some God, I didn’t wish for that all the time. It wasn’t until Girion that he came to respect me for me, and not just for my creation. Same with Bard.”

“Come. We best get to the castle if you wish to see your friend be crowned King.” He took my hand then much like how I’ve seen the world pass by when I would use Makkari’s speed, we were suddenly at the Great Hall.

From the ceiling to the floors everything was decorated for the ceremony.  A large banquet was prepared and dozens upon dozens of barrels filled with ale and wine were being brought out.  We walked out of the banquet hall and soon stood before the throne room.

Already hundreds of people were starting to gather around waiting for the arrival of their new King.  Cain and I took a spot at the very corner of where the throne stood on top of three stairs, and at its side two grand staircases.

“I—I can’t even…..this is—”

“I know. It’s a lot to take in. I know it was the first time I ever did it, although for me I can only sense the aurora and heartbeats of everyone.”

“No. Well I mean yes this ability in itself is hard to put into words. What I meant was—my friend Bard. A man whom I’ve known to be born and bred a Bargeman, a descendent from a King. A king of this very city no less, is reclaiming his family’s rightful place on the throne of Dale. I’d never thought I’d live to see this day. Thank you brother.”

“I knew how special he is to you little sister. Even if you couldn’t be there in person to see him crowned, I felt it’s only fair that you at least get to see it with your own eyes, even if it’s through spiritual means.” Soon the horns began to sound off.  Everyone soon quietened down as they turned towards the two grand staircases that stood on either side of the throne.

Coming down the other staircase furthest away from us I looked up and smiled warmly, for coming down the steps arm and arm of each other were Bard’s children.  Bain, Sigrid and Tilda who were now much older and taller when last I saw them.

Sigrid looked every bit like her mother as she now held a mature woman’s face.  Her hair done up in an elegant wave and she wore a floor length light grey dress. Bain looked to be just as tall (maybe even taller) than his father now.  His hair longer and he was starting to grow out some facial hair.  His face now showing the signs of a boy coming into manhood and he wore a royal green tailcoat with some gold embroidery of leaf circlets along the front of the vest, white trousers, and underneath the green vest he wore a blue Jodhpur suit and a stunning blue cravat tied around his neck along with some black boots.

And Tilda.  Sweet little—well I guess I shouldn’t call her little anymore.  She was starting to become a young lady now standing right up to Sigrid’s height now.  She wore a dark navy blue floor length dress and her hair so curled up that it bounced to the tips of her shoulders.

“The three young royal heirs! Princess Sigrid, Prince Bain, and Princess Tilda.” An announcer proclaimed loud and proud as Bard’s children continued to walk down the stairs with grace, poise and elegance.  

They stood before the crowd and either bowed or did a deep curtsey and everyone did the same thing back to the young heirs, giving forth their faith and respect for the future rulers of Dale.  The children soon stood on either side of the throne and soon the doors in the back opened up.

The sound of drums playing as the royal guard soon came marching in rows of two.  The young Captain of the Guard counting off each step with a loud and proud exclamation as they marched further into the Great Hall between the audience.  The captain soon called out ‘Halt!’ and the royal guard stopped.

“About face!” the two rows of guards turned towards the soldier in the other row.  Their stances tall and stiff and their faces stoic and firm.  The horns soon sounded off again as the royal band now began to play and everyone directed their attention upwards towards the other staircase.

Soon coming out dressed in full regal red and black, his hair now slightly shorter and well-groomed back.  His face clear of the dirt and grim he’d had to endure from Laketown but his eyes held the wisdom of a man that had seen a lot, endured and persevered.  It was my dear friend Bard.

He turned towards all of us and with pride in his step, he slowly descended from the staircase.  My heart soared with joy and proudness for my beloved Bargeman.  I know that he’ll be a great King as will his son, and the rest of his descendants to come (like I know it would’ve been had Smaug not lay waste to the city and killed Girion).

Bard finally reached the bottom of the staircase and the people of Laketown bowed before their new king while his children gave their father a proud and happy smile.  Bard acknowledged each and every one of his people as well as his children as he was guided to the throne by none other than Percy.

Bard first had his back towards his people as he approached the throne then finally turned to face everyone as he slowly sat down.  Percy then gave to Bard the refurbished (probably thanks to my Dwarf friends of Erebor) the Staff of the King and the Sovereign’s Orb. Bard took each of these in the respect hand and then being brought out by Gale was the crown.

A beautiful golden crown with a 3 pointed oak leaf on each tip of the crown.  A bright shaped star at the bottom center of the crown with a single ruby placed at its center, and intricate spines going along the crown in the Infinity symbol, symbolizing the crown bearer’s eternal reign in History, no matter how much time has passed.

Percy took the crown from the velvet pillow Gale had it on and showed it before us all as he came over to Bard and placed it on top of his head.  All the while, Hilda soon came up and spoke to Bard before the audience.

“Will you solemnly promise and swear to govern the people of Dale according to the statures of your Council and Advisors and the respected members of your kingdom? Will you in your power cause law and justice in mercy. To be executed in all judgements?” Percy stepped down as Bard turned towards each of his children who gave him a nod.

“I solemnly promise so to do.” Bard replied.  He soon stood up from his throne, the Staff and Orb still in his hand as the band began playing another song and from the upper balcony, the choir soon sang the royal coronation song of the King of Dale.

“Present arms!” the Captain cried out as the soldiers withdrew their swords and held them outward.  Bard then walked between the row of soldiers.  I left Cain’s side and walked through the crowd keeping my eyes on Bard until both he and I reached the end of the row as the song came to an end.

I walked around and stood before him, my eyes brimming with pride as well as tears just as three loud bangs were heard from a staff. It was then the same royal announcer proclaimed to the audience.

“Presenting; his Majesty. Bard descendant of Girion, King of Dale!” a solemn smile came at the corner of Bard’s lips as he closed his eyes and took it all in.  There was no going back now, but when his eyes opened and I saw that fierce and determined look in his eyes, I knew he was ready.

He no longer needed me to guide him anymore but I would still keep my tabs on him.

I bowed down to my very knees before him and I whispered to him.

“I knew you could do it my dear bargeman. Become the Great King I know you’ll be.” As I looked up at him, the vision began to fade and the bright light consumed me once more.

I let out a gasp and panted heavily and Cain’s voice and touch brought me back to earth.

“Deep breaths, deep breaths. It’s alright, it’s alright.” I looked up at Cain and immediately embraced him.

“Thank you. Thank you so much for allowing me to see him crowned on his big day.” Cain embraced me back.

“I had hoped you would reclaim some control of Druig’s power before that time. All you needed was just a bit of help to see how I view the world.”

“I—again I don’t know how to thank you. If I were ready to go back, there’s no doubt I’d be there in person to see him crowned.”

“I know. And I know he knows that too, but he understood why you had to leave. And there’s no doubt in my mind that you’ll see your friend Bard again in the near future.”

“You think so?”

“I know my sister all too well. You have such a kind heart, and unlike the rest of our kin you’ve always formed a true connection with every race of Middle Earth.” He cupped the side of my face, gently wiping away a tear.

“I know he’ll do great things. Just like Girion.”

“As do I sister, as do I.”

Years and years went by after Cain’s surprise.  Every day I was growing stronger in my Celestial magic, not just with my sibling’s magic but my own as well.  With my own powers I’ve finally accepted my role as the Celestial of Death and had a better understanding of my powers and didn’t need to feel afraid to use it.

Cain and I also continued to grow closer with each other. Like I had said before, whilst I was here training and doing my own healing, I noticed how Cain was starting to accept his grief too.  Whenever he went out to Harad to do his good deeds, he wasn’t as rageful as before but he still made his threats very clear to anyone who did the innocent harm.

There was no longer a festering bubble of regret, rage, sorrow or guilt anymore within him.  He felt at peace with himself (I’ll also admit that I allowed his beloved Yvaine’s spirit to speak through me as well as his children).  That day especially seemed to allow Cain to forgive himself for what happened on that Mountain during the Fall of Gondolin.

Now there was a different feeling festering inside of me. I stood on top of the Mountain cliffs that overlooked the entire jungle and I knew that it was time.

“You’ve been feeling it for a while, haven’t you?” Cain said as he walked up to me and stood by my side at the edge of the cliff.

“I can never hide anything from you.”

“Even without my enhanced senses I could probably tell just from the structure of your facial muscles.”

“I didn’t know how to break it to you gently without hurting your feelings.” Cain touched my shoulder and I turned to face him.

“It’s been a total of 20 years since you’ve came to me. 20 years that we’ve gotten to finally know one another. There is nothing you could do that could hurt me. It is time.”

“For the Celestial of Death to make her return to Middle Earth.” A determined smirk came across Cain’s face as the winds began to shift. My destiny awaiting and the winds changing in my favor.

We were back at the cabin and I was packing away a few things for my trip until I would reach the next town or kingdom I would come across. Cain also gave me a silver ring with a black gem at the center.

He told me that this ring would conceal my true power from Sauron until the time was right.  And that I alone would decide when I would show the world my true strength. As I packed up the last of the food in my pack I turned to Cain and said.

“Can I be honest though brother?” he nodded.  “I—honestly have no idea where to go first.” He softly chuckled and said.

“If I may make a suggestion; head to Rohan. King Thengel is its current ruler. Ask to join among his ranks. But there is also a young soldier there that you should meet.” I tilted my head in interest.  A soldier? “You were once well acquainted with his father Arathorn. And I know you saw him to be a good man much like you did Bard, now it is time the son met you and saw you as a friend and ally.”

I smiled at the mention of Arathorn’s name.  I knew he had bared a son but I was never told of his child’s name.

“What is his name?” I asked.

“He’s serving under the name of Thorongil in King Thengel’s army. In the Wild, he’s known as Strider. His true name—you must earn that knowledge for yourself.” I nodded as I hung the pack over my shoulder.

“Thank you Cain.” I said sincerely.  “For everything.” My chin wobbled before I raced over and embraced him tightly.  He held onto my with just as much strength as I was holding him, burying his face into my neck.

“Remember this Sister Hela; should you ever need me. Look to the moon. And know that I will always be watching over you in your travels.” I nuzzled my face into his chest before we looked at each other once more. His hands mapping out my entire face one last time as tears ran down both our faces until he pressed his forehead and nose against mine.

I closed my eyes and drew in his strength as well as his scent trying to remember this moment with my brother.  Who knows when I’ll be able to see him again.  His hand cupped the back of my head as he pressed a lingering and loving kiss on my forehead.

“May the Valar and the spirits of our kin protect you.” He said in Celeste.

“My heart will weep till we meet again brother Cain.” I replied back to him.  He smiled solemnly before giving me another kiss to my forehead and pressing his forehead against mine once again.

After what felt like an eternity of bidding each other farewell with kisses and affectionate Celestial gestures, I separated from him and walked away from him.  I didn’t even bother using Makkari’s speed until I was well out of the jungle (hoping for more time to remember all the good memories I had here these past 20 years with my brother).  Then once I was in the clearing, I took off with such speed, I swear I might’ve done a sonic boom.

*Cain’s POV*

It took every ounce of my will power to not keep Hela here at my side.  I knew she was strong—no stronger than any Celestial before her (she might even be stronger than Ajak herself).  I knew not to worry for her safety but—as a brother you can’t help but worry for your younger siblings.

I heard her take off using Makkari’s Celestial speed and I knew then that she was gone to fulfill the duties of us Celestials.  I bowed my head solemnly taking a sharp breath in through my nose as a tear slid down my face.

I then turned back and headed back inside my cabin and praying to my beloved Yvaine to help me watch over my little sister in her travels and to keep her safe.

[agentqv]

“We Will Speak Again After”

A Binx/Andhera Fanfic

Part II: Lion and Cub

Andhera laid there for maybe an hour, watching their beloved weaver’s slumbering form rise and fall with every breath. He thought about sleeping, but a wisping wind stayed his mind. When they were certain Binx was asleep (with a gentle snore), the prince sat up from the bedroll. The fire was still rustling and they watched it flicker, flames dancing northward.

The forest extended a long way, under the gaze of a waning crescent moon.

He told the yeth hound to take care of Binx, they’d be back soon. Grandpa Dog simply said “Sure.” Andhera recognized with what was going on, they didn’t have time to mentally interrogate that.

As they treaded through the dark forest, Andhera pulled from their shadow a pair of black scimitars, assembling them into a double-bladed one. He slashed them into the open air in preparation, focusing on forms and footwork. The prince was getting into a warrior’s mindset. His mind grew anxious, like before when they went to war.

Andhera remembered that fear, the quiet terror… but their fear had been worse at a time during the Bloom. He experienced sheer terror when Binx had been injured by his sister’s machinations. But before that, earlier that day… another terror had confronted him.

The young prince walked for several nervous minutes, until they reached a distant clearing in the trees, Moonlight was streaming down on a patch of wild flowers. The tree branches above swayed and the wind whipped at his face, almost playfully rustling his hair.

Andhera cleared their throat, to finally speak and make his fears real.

“That was a cheap trick, but that has always come with the territory, has it not?”Andhera huffed, pressing the weapon’s handle into his other hand and stabbing one of its end-blades into the ground. “You can show yourself now, Mother.”

A chilling winter wind erupted, rustling through the prince’s robes and harshly ringing the nearby trees. Any nocturnal animals present took notice and fled. Andhera pressed a sleeve to his irritated eyes, and looked again to see the wind had taken form before him.

For the first time in countless eons (if it had ever even happened), the Queen of Air and Darkness could be seen in the Mortal Realm. Her dark skin was almost bluish gray under the moonlight. Her long hair was weedy and unkept, draping down her dark sylvan form like an uncontrollable waterfall. A pair of sharp crimson eyes peered out of shadowy skin towards him. She walked barefoot, her robes dragged behind her and he saw grass sour and darken from her gait.

She was beautiful and unknowable. Sustained but chaotic. Darkness personified.

And she seemed especially playful this night.

“My son, you finally permit your poor mother to grace you with her presence.” Her slick voice echoes into the wind and haunts his very core.

“It’s not up to me to allow you to show up, that’s the unfortunate consequence of growing up under the tutelage of a perpetually uncaring helicopter parent.” Andhera was so proud of that zinger, but the Unseelie Queen seemed unaffected, her lips raised.

“I see letting that Crafter rid you of your sister’s spike has healed your confidence after our last meeting.”

That Crafter. Andhera’s eyes narrowed.

“Why are you here?” They asked, as if it wasn’t obvious.

“While I may abhor debasing myself with corporeality… This little visit is a fulfillment of my word. I promised we’d speak once you’ve had it out with your sister.” The young prince knew she saw no value in lying, keeping her word was essential.

Because a threat isn’t a threat unless you’ve been known to back it up.

“And are you impressed Mother? I beat her. I secured my inheritance from that jackal.” Andhera puffed out their chest, blade-end shifting in the grass. The Queen stepped past him, as soon as he turned, she was seemingly on the other side of him. “I figured you must be proud of that at least.”

Her feral scarlet eyes danced at the mention of pride. He tried to insight that, but it was such a fickle flicker of emotion. Was that gratification? Or was it embarrassment. After all Suntar was still alive and as thus an evergreen threat.

“Perhaps I am proud.” She said. “You performed your role exceptionally well, my little pillar boy… my little cub.” The Queen said that so delicately, it was cloying. Andhera sneered away at her mockery. “Broke bread with your old enemies and became allies to send your rival away to the Mortal Realm. Where you find yourself now, alone with your Crafter.”

“Her name is Binx.”

His mother knelt down to the bed of flowers, her dark finger sliding by the stem like a wisp. Andhera watched as black ichor erupted from the flower’s petals, rotting it away, the corruption spread to the other flowers, producing the same effect, black tears streaming from the flowers and mixing into the moonlit dirt.

Andhera grew frustrated, “Apologies Mother, but all this villainous posturing is entertaining to a point.”

“Why did you come with her? Why come all this way to this mortal infested cesspit?” The Queen asked, looking up to him from the flower bed. “Is it because the chaos from a restored Court of Craft could provide value to the Unseelie?” A frustration overtook Andhera in being analyzed like an ant. “No… not that.”

“What does it matter what my methodology is? As your heir it is my choice to lead the Unseelie Court in the way I see fit.”

“You’re being sentimental.” His mother announced, reading him like a book borrowed from the library. “It’s all bright and new what this Crafter has pulled out of you.” She rhymed, unexpectedly.

“She’s a Weaver of Fate.” Andhera corrected her. “The last one, in fact”-

“And you want to put a crown on their head.” His mother’s black carnivorous teeth glimmered in a venomous smile. “And I don’t mean just as knight serving their lady.” Andhera froze at the sudden turn in this talk. He hoped by leaving the Bloom they could escape these expectations. Seems it wasn’t meant to be.

“Well, erm. That’s kind of reductive, if you ask me-“

“But you’ve thought of it. Marrying the Crafter, making them your consort, uniting your peoples and ruling my throne together.” Her voice was insidiously slick and oily. Andhera found himself momentarily embarrassed that their mother wanted to talk about their love life.

But then again why wouldn’t she? Binx could be a wonderful pawn in their games.

“Depending on if your quest in this blighted sphere goes well that is…” As much as the Prince wanted to read that as a threat, the way it was announced wasn’t as much so matter-o-factly as it simply was a fact. Their fey magic waned here, outside their domain, and that made them vulnerable.

There was a reason why young lions didn’t last long outside the safety of their pride.

“Are you going to intervene?” Andhera asked. His mother unknowably continued to gaze at him, tendrilled hair blowing in an unnatural unfelt wind. “No. That’s not your way.” She drew closer to him, hand nearly reaching their cheek, but stopping just before contact.

“If this Crafter is to be your Queen someday, then know that she will always be in danger because of your sentimentality.” Her feral teeth were razors, viciously cutting the dark air and chewing the scenery.

In the few times they spoke, Andhera’s mother had a way of enunciating with an intense specificity. Much like the way her unloving wind could communicate everything in a breeze… her words however were far sharper.

“Love compromises everyone. Makes us weaker, like my sister. It makes us just like everyone else.” A target, she meant.

“Gee,” Andhera interrupted. “This sounds like more of a talk between you and Aunt Titania that you are desperate to have, I really shouldn’t intrude”- their mother snapped at them.

“Careful boy. I do enjoy you and your boldness… but not that much. You could indeed be my successor, my heir. But so were countless others, replaceable just as easily as your sister.” The prince groaned, he’s heard this lesson before.

“And in case you’ve forgotten, I beat Suntar.” Andhera challenged.

“And now you’ve tasted her ambition. Scions far greater than you have played this game and lost, and you’ve savored but a piece of it. Be careful not to choke on your greed, my little cub.” His frustrations grew as his mother turned away, ready to end the conversation.

And out of sheer idiocy, Andhera pushed his luck.

“And what of you? And your greed?” He challenged, his mother paused. “I do not apologize for my apparent avarice, and I make no efforts to dissuade you, Mother. I will never live up to your expectations and will always be a thorn in your side. If you wish me destroyed, do so and be done with it.” The Queen’s gaze became that of incredulous irritation.

“You hit me pretty hard in that fucking cave. Come on Mom, get it out of your system. Kill your boy, start the cycle over.” The wind surrounding them began to pick up, but Andhera didn’t care to notice. “After all, this weird ass lion and cub thing we’re doing here has gotten quite tedious.” A cold wind chilled the air once more.

“Tedious…” The Queen whispered. “You call me tedious?”

And Andhera could do her one better.

“I call you BASIC!”

It was a brazen valor that Andhera had recently discovered. The courage of beating his sister emboldened them. He thought by removing Suntar’s spike that they commanded the storm.

But she was the wind that fueled that storm, it was her that coursed through it all.

At his insistent insolence, the Unseelie Queen effortlessly flicked her hand and Andhera was pulled by wind like a fish caught on a line. He bolted across the field into a tree, dropping his double-bladed scimitar in the confusion. Just as a sudden blunt pain coursed into their nerves, he was whisked away into another tree, and then another.

And then he fell, prone on the ground if not for the wind pulling him up by his neck. It pierced the skin of his chin with a sharp biting cold, dark blood dripped from his neck. The Queen could smell it like a shark in water. She was an apex predator. She was a lion.

And Andhera realized they made the greatest mistake one in the Fey Realm could make. 

He called the Unseelie Queen’s bluff.

                                                     Author’s Notes:

Okay I just need to take a moment to snicker. The dialogue originally ended at “You call me tedious?” But it occurred to me... that the funniest thing I could see Omar/Andhera doing in this situation (that would serve the story), was calling the Queen of Air and Darkness “Basic.” Like it’s such a brazen pop culture thing, and I love it.

When I conceived this story, I originally just wanted to do this scene and call it a day (because Aabria and Omar’s scene was so good and I wanted to see that promised second conversation). But I expanded and I’m glad I did.

There is a level of OOC I will admit for this. as much as I loved what Aabria was doing as the Queen, I really wanted to dig a little deeper into the potential psychology of this relationship, and that meant it couldn’t be all creepy posturing and letting Andhera do most of the talking.

I also figured there was some leeway because even though she’s emotionally distant and rarely speaks, it’s hard to reconcile that with the weird ways she treats Andhera in the form of wind (like she’s almost loving in that way). So for the sake of this story, Andhera’s mom is in as good of a mood as she can be.

As for the title of this chapter, I liked thinking of the Queen as akin to an evil Mufasa. She probably doesn’t love her children as much as she cares for the legacy of her throne (but in the right circumstance will feign love). Even though Aabria never said “My little cub,” I liked the idea of the Queen being more playful as if they had been looking forward to this conversation after Andhera proved their mettle, and calling Andhera her cub was such a cloying thing to say.

I’ve been on a Disney Renaissance binge and might have rewatched Lion King lately... I fucking loved it.

I also wanted to see Andhera’s mom dissect them (maybe literally) and their intentions with Binx and the Court of Craft (since the show treated it a little too ambigiously). 

If we’re going based off the genre of ACOFAF, the idea of Binx someday becoming a the Unseelie Queen Consort, or even an unseelie princess is a big deal. But I also get why it wasn’t elaborated on in the show because that is heavily intertwined with Andhera’s storyline and Binxhera was an unplanned organic pairing and we don’t even know if a Binxhera wedding will ever happen (because I feel marriage for them is something you do for other people). And of course Binx’s own Court of Craft situation is complicated enough as is. Which makes it perfect to examine in a fanfic now that ACOFAF ended (unless we get a season 2, in which case nvm none of this matters).

Please tell me what you think. 

[cassiavioletblue]

"It's pitch black and I can still see you blushing." With yoonkook? Please!

Here you go anon :D I hope you like it!

(Fun fact: the word count for this is 1234 XD)

-----

Yoongi sighed. Coming home at this hour meant coming home to quiet and even though he was happy that the members got some rest and went to sleep early for once he always preferred coming home to their visible presence.

It made such a difference, being greeted with a ‚Welcome home‘ or ‚Yoongi, quick, come over here, you can‘t miss this!‘

After having been alone in the past for so long and fending for himself he would have never thought that he would get so used to this so quickly. It was almost scary sometimes, how much his heart ached for this feeling of home and safety and family, how much he actually depended on the others.

He tried not to let it show too much but he must be doing a poor job at it because he knew that at least Namjoon had picked up on it if the fond glances he sent his way whenever Yoongi let his guard down a little were anything to go by. Luckily Namjoon was very respectful and unobtrusive with his observations so Yoongi never really felt put on the spot.

Sometimes he wished showing affection and allowing himself to be vulnerable would come easy to him the way it came to others, like Taehyung for example, but he simply couldn’t get rid of the defensive mechanisms that he had gathered over the years and that seemed to need twice as much time to be deconstructed as it had needed them to be built.

Yoongi closed his eyes as he got rid of his coat and the scarf, imagining what he would do if he could be emotionally fearless. There were a lot of things he wanted to do but the most important, most pressing one would be to make a confession. It shouldn’t be so hard to talk about his feelings, especially not to someone he had known for years and yet, putting the honest, heartfelt truth into words seemed impossible at times.

He loved Jungkook, he was absolutely certain of that and yet he also loved what they had right now. Jungkook relied on him, trusted him, confided in him whenever he needed someone to cheer him up. He didn’t want to change that or make things difficult between them just because he couldn’t keep his emotions in check.

And yet, he simply couldn’t help himself: a single smile of their youngest could light up his day, a hug could send his heart beat into overdrive and his voice…

As if his mind had summoned it from pure will and longing alone the quiet was suddenly broken by a faint sound. Someone was humming; that someone being Jungkook because Yoongi would always recognize that angelic voice. No matter how far away or quiet or late in the night it was, he’d always know who that voice belonged to whenever he’d hear it.

Yoongi followed the sound like he was under a spell, bewitched by the sweetness of Jungkook's soft voice.

It was still dark in the hallway, but after a few steps he could see a faint light coming from the kitchen, as if someone had opened the fridge.

A sudden warmth bloomed in Yoongi’s chest as he listened to Jungkook’s quiet singing and when he was close enough he could finally make out the words too. Jungkook was singing a love song.

It was a slow, lovely and utterly romantic song about how finding your other half turned your life on its head, made you grow and learn to be a better person because you wanted the best for them and how their love left you irrevocably changed no matter what happened after.

It was doing something to Yoongi’s heart, something dangerous but he couldn’t stop listening. It was simply too…

„Beautiful!“

He only realized that he had breathed the word out loud when Jungkook made a surprised little sound in his throat and closed the door to the fridge reflexively. Immediately the small light was gone and they were both left standing in darkness again.

„Y.. yoongi? When did you come home?“

Jungkook sounded breathless and shy and Yoongi was glad for the dark because it meant he could let the fond smile spread all over his face without needing to hide it.

„I’ve only been back a few minutes. I was trying to sneak to my room without waking anyone, I didn’t mean to startle or fluster you. Please continue, don’t let my presence stop you from singing. It was a lovely song.“

„Oh uhm, it’s fine. I’m not flustered, by the way.“ Yoongi chuckled softly.

„Please. It's pitch black and I can still see you blushing."

He wished he could actually see it too, because Jungkook with rosy cheeks was an incredibly cute sight but it was also strangely comfortable to just stand there together in the kitchen with him in the dark and so he didn’t make any move to turn on a light.

Jungkook made an indignant sound that had Yoongi wishing he could kiss the pout – that was undoubtedly there – right from his lips.

„Okay, maybe a little. Only because you surprised me though. I didn’t expect anyone to be up.“ „Understandable.“ Yoongi nodded automatically, even though the other couldn’t see it and then carefully walked into the direction of where the chairs should be so he could sit down.

„What were you doing here anyways? Did you get hungry?“

With their busy schedules and regular time zone switches getting hungry in the middle of the night wasn’t unusual and while Yoongi was often too lazy to get up again to eat after he’d already gotten comfortable in his bed, he knew that especially the youngers enjoyed some snacks in the night before going back to sleep.

„I was trying to get a midnight snack,“ Jungkook confirmed his hunch and then sighed heavily. „But there’s nothing delicious in the fridge.“ Yoongi hummed in acknowledgement.

„I didn’t have time to eat dinner today, so I could eat something too. Want me to make us some noodles real quick?“ „Really?“

He could basically hear Jungkook beaming at him in the dark and so he added „I might need to turn on the light for that though.“ Jungkook’s answering giggle was as sweet as sugar and just seconds after the light switched on.

„Sorry. I didn’t mean to keep you in the dark.“

Yoongi shook his head.

„Don’t worry. It was kind of nice. Resting my eyes and everything.“ The truth was he loved to be with Jungkook, no matter the place, time or ‚lighting conditions‘. Someday he might be brave enough to tell him. Not right now though.

Now he would make them noodles and they could eat them on their bedroom floor like they had done a few times before. He would watch Jungkook eat and get all fond over the younger’s nose scrunches and eyebrow furrows and then, after a quick trip to the bathroom Jungkook would tell him that he was ‚way too full to move‘ and that he therefore ‚needed to sleep in Yoongi’s room‘ and Yoongi would pretend to be annoyed but be secretly happy and they’d end up cuddling in his bed and falling asleep like that, just like they had done before.

So maybe confessing his feelings wasn’t that important, he could just be happy with this. 

Or maybe, maybe, Jungkook already knew.

[traveler-of-realms]

“Kazamir?” Leoric said, letting his head fall onto the larger man’s chest.

The priest brought his lover closer, slotting him neatly against his body. “Yes?”

“I admit, I do not understand why you have brought me out here.” Leoric looked up, starlight reflecting in his eyes.

Kazamir frowned a little. “Stargazing. Aren’t they beautiful?”

Leoric smiled up at him. “Not as beautiful as you,” he said cheekily.

With his dark skin, it was easy to hide a blush, but as Leoric gently took Kazamir’s face into his hands, he could feel the priest’s skin warm. Leoric laughed softly. Kazamir slapped his hands away.

“You and your jokes, little priest,” he grumbled back. He gently brushed his fingers through Leoric’s short hair.

“You enjoy them,” Leoric shot back. He reached up to Kazamir’s hair, attempting to return the favor. “Your dreads are too thick for me to comb through.”

“You enjoy them,” Kazamir returned.

“Won’t you need to get rid of them soon?” Leoric asked.

“Don’t remind me,” the High Priest said. “Every damn year. They’re ‘unclean’ according to the king and queen. I have half a mind to assassinate the royal family over it.”

“If you do, then we’d be fugitives,” Leoric reminded him.

“It would be nice,” Kazamir chuckled. His hand came up to brush a few errant strands of pitch black hair from Leoric’s eyes. “Except we would be on the run for the rest of our lives. Quite possibly brutally executed as well.”

Leoric said nothing. His hands began to pull at the edges of his robes.

“I know how you feel about what we do here,” Kazamir said, his voice more of a rumble. “I know the other priests get to you sometimes. You need only say the word if they are taunting you again.”

“No, no they are not. Forget I said anything at all,” Leoric muttered.

Worried now, Kazamir took hold of Leoric’s head and gently turned it so Leoric looked up at him. “Are their methods bothering you?”

Leoric sighed, staring into steel grey eyes. They seemed stony, but he saw the anxiety blooming behind them. “Yes,” he confessed. “Some of them have resorted to…less desirable methods.” Kazamir’s eyes hardened. “Torture, gruesome sacrifices of their own followers, among others.”

Kazamir grunted. “Give me names. I will have them disciplined.”

“Executed, you mean?” Leoric asked.

“I’m sure I could find evidence of heresy among them,” Kazamir said nonchalantly. “They’re fools, the lot of them.”

Leoric let his head fall against the High Priest’s chest. “That, I won’t argue. I will tell you tomorrow, perhaps via letter.”

“See to it,” Kazamir yawned. “And perhaps, we should see to getting some rest as well.” Leoric looked up at him, hopeful. Kazamir’s expression darkened. “No.”

“You don’t know what I want,” Leoric said.

“You—“ Kazamir prodded him in the shoulder. “Want to sleep in my bed tonight. And I keep telling you how dangerous that is.”

“Not if I sneak through the window. I know the maids’ routines.”

“Leoric. This is not for discussion.” Leoric’s face fell, and Kazamir looked away. “We cannot risk being found out.”

Leoric’s eyes fell to the ground. He stood abruptly, taking his warmth with him and leaving Kazamir’s torso cold. “I know,” he said quietly. “I will make my way to the guest chambers. Good night, High Priest.”

Kazamir’s arms closed gently around Leoric as he turned to leave. “Good night, little priest,” he heard him whisper. Leoric felt him smile against his hair.

[heart-songs]

my mirror knows all my secrets…

that I can’t remember the last time I wasn’t aching to be okay / how many warm cotton days I’ve wasted, digging the dread out of my stomach with the dull end of a spoon when I should have been carving my name inside of a heart with you / the sick satisfaction I get each time I lose another pound / how being less can feel like becoming more / invisible / like if I can see the curve and hollow of every rib… then maybe I’ll finally discover what’s caged within them / is there anything there at all? / how I don’t believe god gives a damn about me but I still pray for you until my lips turn blue / speaking of blue… how the lilt of your laughter pulls me apart like cornflower petals / he loves me / he loves me not / the deep down fear that I’m incapable of loving anyone more than I hate myself / how missing you has become its own language – tangible in tears and clenched fists and crumpled papers / how badly I long for you to come home and hold me, star kiss me on the forehead, and make all the hurt a thing of the past / that I both desire and dread to be rid of this pain / she causes me so much grief / but she’s been the only constant all these years / what will I do and who will I be without her? / that I stare through locked windows each night, haunted with envy by families of trees huddling together for warmth under haloed streetlights / how many hours I’ve spent holding hands with my insomnia in the dark, imagining a life where she isn’t my only friend / a life where waking up is slow… and time is measured in freshly baked cinnamon rolls and sticky fingers / where belly laughs are full, unfettered, and frequent, and cold sheets get warmed by body heat / where I can let myself love you with every part of me until my bones confess my sins through forgotten wounds / where I fall soundly asleep in the ethereal absolution of your arms, nothing but starlight on my mind / how clearly I can see it all / but I always end up clawing my way out of nightmares, a crumpled mass of broken limbs and scraped knuckles / that I’m tired, so tired of trying and failing / how tempted I am to give up / how the only thing stopping me is the false promise of true love / where are you? / how desperately I hope for it to be Heaven curling her fingers under my door / but shadows don’t lie and I’m pretty sure it’s the hand of Hell / that as I write these words, I’m still aching to be okay / just okay / just for a little while / because I don’t know how to do this anymore / that I want to be more than just a corpse flower entombed in cement, never budding nor blooming nor stretching towards the sun / how much I want to be seen by more than just my mirror /

[yandere-romanticaa]

rolling in the deep.

❝ we could have had it all, you're gonna wish you never had met me...❞

yandere! Lelouch vi Britannia x reader.

I’ve sold my soul to the devil and his name is Lelouch... I’m scared for thirsting for him but there’s no turning back now. ALSO, like all of my Lelouch fics so far (2), this is just experimental and something I whipped up in the spur of the moment literally right before going to sleep.

Smoke clouded your vision as salty tears streamed down your face, your arms just barely shielding you from the horrors of the bloody battle that was taking place in front of you, a battle so gruesome you wouldn't be at fault for thinking that all of this was just a nightmare, a horrible nightmare that would cause you endless uneasiness once you woke up. Sad thing is though, the odd beauty of nightmares is that once they're over, they are indeed over, you can just brush them aside at the back of your mind and never think about them ever again, lest the thought somehow managed to creep up on you in the middle of your daily routines, only for it to be once again put back into your subconscious mind, never to be touched again.

The splatters of blood that adorned you from head to toe were all too real however, they could not be ignored. The smell, oh God the smell, it was agonizing, it was sticking to your entire body, like sharp claws that were refusing to let go. Final screams of horror filled could be heard all over along with the sounds of heavy machinery and open gunfire, the powerful bullets getting rid of anyone that stood in their way. If it weren't for the fact that you were safely tucked away in a little safehouse that was a few kilometers away from the battlefield, you would have been dead three times over. Even then, there was no time to worry about that.

The gun that was pointed straight at your heart at this very moment was much more concerning.

You cursed yourself for your stupidity and Lelouch's selfishness, why on Earth did you follow him to begin with?! You were just so worried about him, not only was he cutting classes but there was something wrong with him, like there were some invisible weights that were keeping him chained to the ground, unable to let him live his life freely. You wanted to help him, to ease his burdens and to be by his side, but he always ran away, he would disappear like the wind and no one would see him for days. Wishing to take the reigns for once you decided to sneaky, and thanks to a lot of hard work, some detective work and just a pinch of luck you managed to find yourself in this current predicament. Zero himself was the one who was holding the gun, something a large number of people would have been curious to see, but not you.

You were not facing Zero.

It was Lelouch himself.

The harsh truth and gravity of the situation hit you like a pile of bricks, icy fear quickly spreading all over you weakened body. Holding his helmet in one hand and gun in the other Lelouch approached you, his steps cautious but quick. With each step you took backwards he would move forward, backing you in a dark corner until you could feel the harsh barrel of the gun that threatened to take your life right there and then. You wanted to speak up, to say something, anything, but all of your cries and pleas simply died on your lips, before ever even having a chance to be properly uttered.

The sounds of the outside world seemed to be muffling the longer you were here, like nothing else mattered besides what was happening in this little corner. Without moving his weapon Lelouch carefully placed his helmet on the ground, his pretty purple eyes never breaking eye contact with you. He was lost deep in thought that much was obvious, but the sudden warmth of his approaching hand sent you over the deep end, a sudden wave of desire to slap him so hard that he would bleed and see stars. Newfound resentment bloomed in your chest as he played with your cheek, his gloved hands carefully pinching the soft flesh without a care in the world, as if both of you weren't standing in the middle of a bloody warzone. His arrogance was almost praiseworthy at times, even now with death hovering above you like an old friend.

Without a word he pressed his forehead against your own, his long eyelashes tickled you as you desperately tried to create some sort of distance between you, but it all proved to be futile in the end. With your back pressed firmly against the old wall behind you, Lelouch made sure to cage you further by pressing himself even further into you, his half covered face almost completely pressed against your own. Neither one of you were capable of exchanging any words at that moment, especially not poor Lelouch as he pondered on what he should do with you. He toyed with the idea of killing you but he couldn't do that. Not to you.

How ironic, he thought to himself.

He, Lelouch vi Britannia, who has slaughtered thousands by this point, could not pull the trigger of the gun he held in his hand. He was a lot weaker than he thought, all of the love he felt towards you came flooding back to him, the urge to protect you and make you all his almost made him go mad. He had to be composted though, he couldn't let anyone know of your presence here. An idea suddenly popped into his mind, a little smirk on his lips as he tilted your chin to the side, making sure that you could not look away.

"(y/n)..."

His voice was calm and composed, typical Lelouch. The next words though, they would change your life forever.

"... I, Lelouch vi Britannia command you to love me, and only me. You will be mine until death does up part."

His command was so confident, so self assured that it felt like he just punched you straight in the stomach and knocked all air out of your lungs. You couldn't even dwell on that pain much either, not when it felt like your head was going to explode into a million little pieces. The ice in your heart was melting away, the void was being replaced with something that wasn't supposed to be there, something that you would never ever allow on your own accord.

You were clever he would give you that, but you still didn't know about his power, much to his joy. He had hoped to win you over the good old fashioned way but the way things are, this really was the only option for him. Not only would you be safe, you would also be with him as well. He's... He's awful for doing this, he knows it.

But he just can't lose you. He can't lose you. If he does, his heart can never heal. He needs you a lot more than he's willing to admit.

Your life was over the moment you met Lelouch and you didn't even know it.

[bye-bye-sunbird]

Temple of Gold - Yan!Zhongli x Priestess!Reader x Yan!Osial

This is part of the "Spoil of War" series collection. You can find the masterlist for this series here and the first chapter here.

Notes: I am so sorry for taking this long to update, but here it is at last!! I hope you all enjoy it. And BTW... WE'VE REACHED 500 FOLLOWERS! I am honestly so grateful to each one of you, and I'll be planning some way to celebrate! My heart is full of love and gratitude TuT <3 <3

Credits: @violeteyesofevergarden for letting me vent ideas to her, honestly, you have been such a crucial part of this series and I am so grateful for your help TUT!

Warnings: General dark and yandere themes, isolation, nightmares and manipulation. No beta, we die like Rex Lapis.

Word count: 1,231.

art by: @Almoonnn_7

"The only way to get rid of a temptation is to yield to it. Resist it, and your soul grows sick with longing for the things it has forbidden to itself." ― Oscar Wilde.

The tempest that lashed the walls of Guizhong's Shrine did not seem to faze the Overlord of the Vortex, the distinguished lines of his face remained indifferent to the touch of the icy water. Everything about him gave the impression that he was used to the world subjugating to his will. His tall figure melted into the darkness around him, as if it belonged to him and obeyed his commands.

You remain immobile to his relentless advance, your feet nailed to the ground and your arms protecting your body. The icy wind turned the raindrops into razors that attacked you mercilessly, but your eyes remained defiant. You were afraid to give in to a monster like him, devoid of all gentleness and the very picture of everything that stood against your principles. You close your eyes, trying to compose yourself as you feel his lips nearing your neck. It's then that you feel a strange warmth surround your silhouette, and you breathe in a familiar scent.

By the time you open your eyes, a soft, gentle breeze sways the beautiful blooming glaze lilies, all in ghostly silence. A chain of unbridled musings lashes at your mind as you wake from yet another trance. The hours you had dedicated to mourning had been transformed into torments by Osial, who in dreams taunted your devotion with strange visions of sin. You wanted to lock them up, prevent them from appearing in your thoughts again. Wrap them in shrouds and deliver them to the river if need be, let the waters drown them for all eternity.

When you look down, you see nothing but the sea below you. Your feet barely skim the mountain as the only thing stopping your fall is a black and gold-infused arm that imprisons your body in a strong and devoted grip. You feel the air come out of your lungs in shock, and without thinking you cling desperately to the Lord of Geo's arm, tears streaming down your cheeks as he takes a few steps back pulling you close to him, and away from the sea. Your knees shake, unable to support your weight any longer, and your arms hang delicately as you slowly lose your senses, fainting a mere seconds later.

One step ahead and he would have been too late.

Dark amber glowed in his eyes as he holds you close, fury turning his blood into boiling liquid gold. He rests his knees on the ground with you still in his arms and as he feels your soft hair on his cheek, he turns his face towards your beautiful sleeping form and, unable to restrain himself, buries his nose in the crook of your neck, taking long breaths to regain his composure, allowing your sweet scent to dull his senses.

The leaves rustled under your feet as you silently followed behind the God of Contracts. Shame and sadness flooded your thoughts and kept you mute as your eyes wandered through the beautiful temple Morax had built as a parting gift to his dearest of friends. A place to honor her legacy, to mourn her and your sisters, to keep you safe, as he had promised Guizhong.

Morax's kindness was enormous, and you felt unworthy of it.

"May I assume you have made up your mind, then?" he says, his voice pulling you out of your thoughts.

"I have, your grace."

"The tenets you must follow are to remain the same" he adds, tilting his face to look at you, "Are you aware of what said choice entails?"

"I wish to remain a Dust Priestess."

"That doesn't answer the question."

To that, you raise your gaze, conflict swirling in the deep color of your eyes. Morax's face remains calm, but his pupils dilate slightly at the sight of your doubt.

You belonged here in this pure world, to which he, a god of battle and blood, was but an intruder ... and to which he entered nonetheless, incapable of stopping the part of him that you unknowingly lured in with your warmth. You were the very image of loneliness and fragility as Morax stood in front of you.

You wonder if Guizhong awaited you in the afterlife along with the rest of your sisters... Could that promise be enough to make you feel less of a lost soul whose title no longer served any purpose? Could it make the pain more bearable?

Morax can see that the past, filled with sun and laughter, seemed to torment you. Back then, you were nothing but a naive, sweet girl who had never seen a battle, nor heard a dying man’s plea. A girl whose head was full of nothing but songs and riddles. War had torn apart that child. The gleam of wonder and curiosity that brought light to your eyes was long gone. In its place, however, sorrow reigned exquisitely. Had you ever looked more beautiful and dignified than you did now?

As much as he missed seeing you smile, grief turned ethereal in that splendid face of yours. Your voice no longer held the sweet ring of spring, but the calm, alluring sound of winter's wind. Those sad songs you used to sing for him would sound even more beautiful now that you understood pain.

An invisible force impelled him with all the might of unsated desire to raise his hand, to hold that beautiful face of yours between his fingertips and bring you comfort. The Lord of Geo restrains himself, however, as he awaits your answer.

Your lips tremble in doubt as you mutter "... I am, your grace".

With that, you vow to stay hidden behind these walls, away from the sea and every danger it imposes. You are to remain unwed, untouched, and unyielding to every sin that tempts you. With that, the remaining Dust Priestess vows to live a solitary life in this temple of gold, to mourn the loss of her goddess and sisters until her last breath. One step outside and you could no longer be a Dust Priestess.

"Then I am to leave you now, as this temple does not belong to me," he says in a solemn tone, lowering his gaze and slowly turning away from you. Part of you wants to stop him, and ask him if he shall visit you from time to time, the thought of being utterly alone starting to sink in as the sounds of his steps echoed in the empty, lonely hall.

"Your grace?" you call, meekly.

He tilts his head slightly, not looking at you but indicating he is listening.

"I... wanted to thank you, for saving me."

Your eyes linger in his form as the heavy stone gate starts to close, a small pool of tears clouding your sight. He doesn't answer, but nods his head before stepping outside the entrance of gold and stone.

Once outside, the Lord of Geo stares silently at the sky, taking a moment to mourn his friend.

"I'm keeping my promise, Guizhong. Your daughter has a temple of gold to keep her safe, and I shall not interfere... However, leaving the temple is her renouncing you... and welcoming me."

Morax then lowers his gaze in contempt, facing the raging sea that howls at him.

"So do your worst, Osial," he says, a sinister shadow forming in his eyes, "Lure her out if you must."

[fandom-imagines-stories]

Evermore

Simon Basset x Reader

Words: 2319

Summary: While residing in the same house, Simon and his wife could not be further apart. His resistance to love may cost him the only thing he holds dear while he can merely stand and watch it fade. 

Notes: I love Simon waaaaaaay too much. I have been dying to write for him, so please please let me know what you think! 

More period dramas: HERE

-

I never needed anybody in my life

I learned the truth too late

From this spot, he had a view of the entire garden. He watched as you strolled between the flowers, pausing occasionally to smell a particular bloom. You used to walk together, but now, he could hardly bear to even look at the gardens. Seeing you there sent a feeling through his heart that he could not rid himself of. It was better this way. The happiness that you had felt in your first few months of marriage was an illusion. Simon knew that he could never truly make you happy, no matter how badly he wanted to. Still, these days of silence ate at his soul. 

You felt his gaze upon you before you spotted him in a second-story window. Looking up from the rose in your hand, you held his stare with your own, as if daring him to come out from behind his closed doors. This was the first time you’d seen your husband in two days and even when you had seen each other, it was in passing, shrouded in bitter quiet. 

You looked away first, dropping your flower and storming back into the house with renewed frustration. From the corner of your eye, you could see him vanish from the window, probably to disappear into his office for yet another day of avoidance. Through your anger, your heart ached. He never explained his sudden hatred towards you. One night, he simply stopped speaking to you. When you confronted him, he’d shouted and shut himself away in his room. No word between you had been uttered since. 

To fill your lonely hours, you walked the length of the house. Clyvedon was a beautiful estate and offered at least some distraction from your empty heart. This time, however, your usual path was interrupted. 

“Your grace,” You greeted coolly. It was odd to see him in this part of the house, so far away from his usual fortress. He rarely left his office anymore. “I must say, I am surprised to see you away from your desk. You have been married to your work recently.” You put as much venom into your words as you could muster. For a moment, you thought you saw him flinch. 

“Y/N, I understand you are uncomfortable with our current situation-”

“Uncomfortable?” You exclaimed furiously. “You think that I am uncomfortable? This is not an ill fitting dress or-or a pebble in my shoe. I saw you in that window and I couldn’t breathe. Even now, it feels like my heart is trying to leap out of my chest and give itself to you, for maybe that will finally be enough for you.” His eyes shifted to the window, desperately trying to escape your hateful stare. 

“You are more than enough for me-”

“Then tell me, your Grace,” You spat, “why you can’t even bring yourself to look at me!” You had raised your voice beyond what was proper, but you didn’t care. You wanted him to see the anguish that this forced solitude was bringing you. “Explain to me how we can be making love one morning and by that afternoon, you can hardly utter a word to me. Look at me, Simon! For God’s sake just look at me.” 

Whatever his reasoning for coming to you was lost to him now. He could only hear the anger and frustration in your voice. The hatred you must hold for him. While his eyes finally found yours, it felt as though he was looking past you. 

“I presume you will be eating in your quarters again.” Was all he said. The return of his indifference was the final straw for you. Having had enough, you charged off to find the furthest place in the house away from him. Simon watched you go in quiet agony, cursing himself for being unable to shut out his affection for you. He told himself again that this was how it must be. If only that was enough. 

-

Wasting in my lonely tower

Waiting by an open door

He wasn’t sure how late it was, but his eyes were starting to burn from staring at documents all night. He could hardly keep them open. Setting his work aside, he ran a hand down his face, trying to rub the exhaustion from his eyes, and slowly dimmed his lamp until the light was gone. When he looked up, he found you standing in the doorway, shrouded in shadow. If he didn’t know better, he’d say you looked like a spirit in your white nightgown and tear stained face. 

“Why are you not in bed?” He questioned, only half awake himself. 

“I came to…” The words caught in your throat, making them sound garbled and broken. You stepped into the moonlight and composed yourself. “I came to say goodbye.” Simon froze. 

“What?”

“I have arranged for a carriage to take me back to London at dawn.” You stared blankly at him, your face sunken and despaired. He hadn’t realized the depths of the misery he had caused you until now. “My presence is clearly unwanted and I feel that we may live our lives more peacefully apart.” 

“I see you’ve already made up your mind on the matter.” Simon scoffed, the pain your words inflicted fueling anger. You didn’t reply. Instead, you turned and started back down the dark hallway to your quarters. He caught your arm before you got too far. “You cannot just leave.” 

“I see no reason to stay, your grace.” 

“You are my wife.” He growled. Finally, your sullen exterior broke away to reveal the anger burning inside of your chest, threatening to swallow you. 

“Am I?” You jerked your arm away, stumbling backwards in the dark. “Because these past few days I’ve felt like a stranger, wandering these beautiful halls, looking for something in them to keep me here. There is nothing but emptiness and grief and pain and I cannot-” 

He placed a hand on your cheek, your words halting on your tongue. You stepped closer into his touch, a touch that you had been aching to feel for days. Simon dipped his head down, bringing your lips slowly to his own. 

His movements were fast and urgent, his lips moving against yours like he depended on you for breath. You felt the familiar feeling rush over you. It was the intense feeling you’d felt so many times at the beginning of your marriage, one you had feared you’d never feel again. But it wasn’t enough. 

“Simon, wait.” You pushed back, trying to find anything in his eyes that could explain to you why he’d been acting so distant. “Talk to me, my love.” 

He tried. He wanted so desperately to be able to share with you his fears, but every time he opened his mouth he felt like that stuttering little boy again. Your gaze pleaded with him. 

“Please, say something.” Still no response. You pulled out of his grasp forcefully, that feeling fleeing just as quickly as it had come. “Tomorrow, I am leaving for London. At least there I will not be reminded how little I must mean to you.” 

You gave him no chance to reply, vanishing into the dark night while he furiously went back into his office, knocking almost every paper off his desk. Simon craved to follow you back to your quarters and show you what you really meant to him, but his feelings didn’t matter. You were miserable and it was his doing. 

Still, the idea of being away from you, the feeling of abandonment sunk into him like sharp claws. It was dark and grim and kept him awake, pacing back and forth in the confines of his office. That night, he did not get a moment’s rest. 

-

I let her steal into my melancholy heart

It’s more than I can bear

Days passed, each one quieter and darker than the last. You were gone. He had watched your carriage leave from his window, solemn and alone. Each day he waited. He waited to hear the rattling of the carriage, the pounding of the horse’s hooves. He left the door to his office open as if he expected you to walk in like nothing had happened. In fact, he hardly left his office at all in hopes that his waiting would conjure you somehow. 

It was the fifth day of your absences when he received the letter. Lady Danbury started by inquiring as to why his wife was in London unaccompanied, but it was the end of the letter that sent an icy fear through his blood. You had fallen ill and had doctors in and out of the house for the last two days. While she did not know the severity of your illness she had heard that you had been bed ridden and unable to take any visitors. She feared the worst. 

Simon didn’t waste a second readying his horse and taking off towards the city. It didn’t matter how many hours the ride took, he went on without stopping. His horse sped through the city, having little care for the foot traffic around him. Hastings house stretched ominously over him, adding to the dread filling his chest. He didn’t wait for a servant to open the door, he didn’t wait to be shown to your room. He ran through the halls like a mad man only to find your quarters empty. 

“Your Grace?” Your lady's maid gasped, nearly dropping the bundle of fabrics she was carrying. “I-I thought you were staying in-”

“Where is she?” He barked, making her jump. He didn’t mean to frighten the poor girl, but he did not have the patients for explanation. 

“S-she’s having tea with Lady Danbury in the drawing room.” The girl squeaked. His confusion was quickly replaced by rage and he stormed into the drawing room, Lady’s Danbury’s letter crumpled in his fist. Your eyes widened at the sight of your husband, sweating and disheveled. 

“Simon, what are you-”

“Your Grace, how wonderful for you to join us.” Lady Danbury smiled triumphantly. 

“Is this meant to be some kind of cruel joke to you?” He snapped viciously. You’d never seen him this way before and, frankly, it frightened you. Lady Danbury didn’t seem phased. “My life is not a game for you to meddle in!” 

“Someone had to show you how much you stand to lose, your Grace.” She said, keeping incredibly calm under the circumstances. 

“How dare you.” Simon was seething. “You wretched woman-”

“Simon!” You exclaimed, jumping up from your seat. “A word, your Grace.” You opened the door to the garden and waited outside for him to join you. 

“I think it’s time for you to leave.” Simon glared. Lady Danbury stood and walked past him with enviable elegance. 

“Don’t lose her, your Grace. Not when she’s finally made you believe in love.” She left without further comment. 

Simon finally walked out and you resisted the urge to slap him. Your fists were balled at your sides and you were walking furiously back and forth on the path. 

“How dare you come here and speak to my guest in such a manner.” You wanted to scream and cry and kiss him all at once. “What on earth are you doing here, anyway?” 

“Lady Danbury sent me a lie in order to get me to come here.” He finally let the exhaustion of his ride rush over him and he leaned against the wall. 

“And what lie could have been so great to get you to leave your office?” You scoffed. Simon’s face softened. 

“She said that you were ill.” He said quietly, his voice betraying the truth. For those few hours before he arrived were the most terrifying he’d ever experienced. “I thought that… I was afraid I would lose you.” 

“You haven’t seemed that concerned these past weeks.” You muttered in irritation. Simon’s face fell. 

“Do you really believe that?” He asked with such pain in his voice it nearly broke your heart. “That I am not concerned for your well being? That I do not care if you are hurt or-or sick?” 

“What else am I to believe, Simon?” You said, exasperated and exhausted with his constantly shifting moods towards you. “You avoid me at all costs when I am with you, you have suspended any affection towards me, and now you tell me that you came all this way because you thought I was ill? I don’t understand you, your grace, I truly don’t.” 

“Everything I have done has been for your benefit.” He stepped towards you. “My affection towards you runs deeper than I could possibly explain and that is why I cannot condemn you to a life cast into my darkness.” His eyes did not look through you now. Rather, they pierced down to your very soul. You stood in shock, trying to find the right words to convey your true feelings. 

“Simon…” You gasped, laying a hand on his chest to feel his racing heartbeat. “You are not a shadow. You are the moon. Yes, you have darkness. Yes there are parts of you that I do not yet understand, but that does not mean I do not wish to know you. You are the guiding light in my darkest nights. You are my husband and I love you.” 

You wrapped your arms around him and brought his lips to yours. It was like your first kiss, hesitant at first, but soon evolved with passion and need. Simon cupped your face in his hands and vowed. 

“I will not hide my love from you again. I will cherish you the way you are meant to be. And I will remind you how dear you are to me every moment I can.” He brushed a joyous tear from your cheek. “For evermore.” 

-

General Tag: @rae-gar-targaryen; @takemepedropascal; @childhood-imagination;  @mylovegoesto; @yellowbadgergirl; @itmejado; @suckmyapplejacks

[nastybuckybarnes]

Of Kings and Beasts  -  Eleven

Pairing: King!Bucky X Princess!Reader X King!Steve

Summary: Born a bastard of the King of Orlen, you’re thrust to the West to marry the Kings. However, the greeting you get is anything but warm, and your life with the King is far from enjoyable. He knows it isn’t your fault his husband is gone, but that fact alone won’t prevent him from taking it out on you.

Warnings: Fluff, Angst, suspense maybe?

Word Count: 1.8K

A/n: A bit of a short chapter but I am very excited for where this is going. I hope you guys enjoy and I love every single one of you.

THIS SERIES CONTAINS SMUT AND DARK THEMES THAT MAY BE TRIGGERING TO SOME AUDIENCES!!! READ AT YOUR OWN RISK!!!

Series Masterlist

~*~

“May I see the note again?” Steve asks, one hand extended for the letter while to other rests protectively on your lower back.

You haven’t left their chambers at all today, and in the time that you’ve spent with them, they have each had a protective hold on you, as if terrified that you’ll slip through their fingers if they let go.

“You have been at this for hours already and come back with nothing,” you whisper, more hopeless than anything. Steve only shakes his head, eyes skimming over the words as he desperately tries to recognize the penmanship.

“There must be something. Something to enlighten us. Anything at all.”

You huff out a sigh and push yourself to your feet, fighting the urge to roll your eyes as they both snap their gazes to you.

“I’m going for a walk,” you announce, pushing past the brunet only for him to grab your hand with his, the warmth of his palm seeping into your bones.

“Please stay,” he whispers, eyes avoiding yours. You frown and step towards him, genuinely curious as to why he’s so adamant about you not leaving their chambers.

“James, what harm could possibly come to me here? The Valkyrie have sworn to protect me. And I will not be leaving the Palace, I only need stretch my legs.” He sighs and clenches his jaw then nods.

“Forgive me. I do not mean to control you, I only... knowing that the threat is so close yet not knowing who it is has put me on edge and I apologize.” You smile softly at him, lifting one hand to gently cup his cheek.

“I appreciate your concern for my wellbeing, James. But in the time since I’ve been away I have learned many things.” You take a step backward, eyes fluttering to Steve in time to see him smile at you, a soft sadness in his eyes.

“I shouldn’t be gone any longer than ten minutes. If it takes me longer than that, you have my permission to send out a search party.” Steve raises his eyebrows, chuckling softly.

He’s not used to you making jokes.

“Well, we will be counting down the seconds, dove,” James says, placing a soft kiss upon your knuckles before releasing your hand.

You turn and leave their chambers without another word, wanting time and space to clear your mind and indeed stretch your legs.

The threat is still at large, that much is evident. But who close to the kings would want their downfall so severely that they would plot against you as well?

Your feet take you through the palace and out through a back door into a gorgeous garden. Although the weather is cool and the wind bites your skin, the garden is filled with greenery.

“Asgardian shrubs have grown accustomed to the harsh winters,” a voice says from behind you. You jump, hand twitching for the blade strapped to your thigh for a moment before you recognize the voice.

You turn and offer the man a smile, bowing your head at him.

“Loki. Are you here to join me?” He looks at you then through the gardens, pursing his lips for a moment.

“I don’t see why not.” You resume your walk, this time with the raven-haired man beside you.

“Have you any luck figuring out who is behind the letter you received?” He asks casually, blue eyes flashing over to your face.

You shake your head with a sigh, pulling your cape tighter around your shoulders.

“Not so far. I do not understand how the Kings do not know who it may be. Surely they should know the members of their council well enough to recognize a threat when one is there. Especially if one has been blooming over time.”

He nods his agreement, pondering this for a moment before speaking.

“Could it be someone new to the council? Or perhaps not everyone is as they seem. We know not the ways of the world, the magic that lies dormant. Perhaps the answer is far closer than you think.”

You stop walking, brows drawn together in confusion, but the man only smiles, bows, and kisses your hand before turning and walking off in the direction you came.

His words bounce around in your mind as you finish your trek through the gardens, finding yourself on the other side of the Palace with absolutely no idea where you are or what may lie ahead.

Throwing caution to the wind, you walk down a dark hallway decorated with extravagant paintings of the Asgardian kings of the past.

A door opens further down the hallway and a familiar head of raven hair is walking the other way, taking a sharp left.

Confusion fills you. You swear you saw Loki go in the other direction.

Your curiosity gets the better of you, and you slowly creep towards the open door, taking a moment to make sure no one can see you, then ducking inside.

It’s an office. Fairly small, but still regal.

And seated upon the desk is a letter written in a strikingly familiar script.

Your heart races in your chest as you recognize the writing, and for a moment you’re rooted in place.

Loki is in on it. Loki is the betrayer.

Your anxiety is replaced with determination. To expose the truth, tell the Kings, and rid yourselves of the thorn in your side.

You spin around only to halt right where you stand.

Leaning against the door frame is none other than the trickster himself, his arms crossed over his lean chest and a smirk on his lips.

“L-Loki! I wasn’t aware this was your study. Please forgive me for intruding, I meant no harm.” Your voice is far more steady than you thought it would be, but he doesn’t move. No, he stays right where he is.

“Ever the snoop, aren’t we, Your Majesty?” You swallow hard, fear coursing through your veins as he takes a step towards you.

You glance at the small space between him and the doorframe and launch yourself through it, sprinting down the hallway as fast as your feet can carry you.

Your heart is pounding in your ears, the sound deafening and successfully drowning out the sound of him gaining on you.

His arms wind around you, yanking you back against his solid torso and forcing you to move back with him.

He wrestles you back into a dark corner, a hand darting up over your mouth just as you open it to cry out.

You struggle against him, arms held tight against your body and thus rendering you useless.

His hand on your mouth jerks your head up and you whimper at the pain in your neck, your eyes widening with hope as you see someone approaching.

You continue to struggle, hoping they’ll come to your aid. Your struggles cease when the person jogs over, Thor’s familiar face coming into view.

You’re relieved, almost smug as you think of the punishment that awaits the prince behind you until you realize that Thor hasn’t said or done anything about the situation yet.

No, instead he stands in front of you with his arms crossed and a darkness in his eyes.

“You’ve seen far too much, haven’t you, little one?” You’re confused, the look on your face enough to have the blond man chuckling before giving the man behind you a slight nod.

You start struggling again, tears welling up in your eyes as you realize you’re surrounded by far more enemies than you thought.

Any thoughts in your head are promptly discarded, however, when your surroundings fade to nothingness, darkness consuming you.