#that leaves us all in tears forevermore

[lady-stormbraver]

book-honoring period drama adaptations of L.M. Montgomery’s The Blue Castle and Rilla of Ingleside W H E N

[munsonbrackets]

Astarion x undying male reader (2)

I rewrote it! I like this one more than the other one, hopefully you all enjoy ver. 2 as well!

TW: angst, graphic(ish) depitctions, SPOILERS FOR ASTARION'S STORY

You and Astarion walk down the steps. The steps that are gonna decide the fate of him forevermore. 

Who lives, who dies.

At the end of the stairs, Cazador starts his speech. The rehearsed words fall into crumbling deafening sentences, leaving you silent as Astarion speaks up for himself.

“You son of a bitch.” Astarion sneers and leaps towards starting the fight against his former master himself. You do not manage to grab him.

Before anyone can even register what’s happened, Astarion is sent to his spot. His spot, his place in the ritual, it glows and shimmers as if to mock and disturb you. Which it does.

Cazador stares at you, the contained rage flittering across his expression. Next thing you feel is his closeness to yourself, the heat running from your throat. His claws had dug and slashed and you feel the burning, red hot, blood draws down and in, suffocating and heating and dizzying. You fall to the floor, the liquid leaving you, leaves you feeling restless, but so fucking tired.

The rest of your party startle in for the fight ahead as you lay useless, suffocating on your own blood. The next thing you see is your own blood forming around you, your eyes blacking out. It never stops hurting.

And as you wake, your companions are struggling, fighting against the plentyfull of foes that you so cruelly left them fighting alone. 

Your hand pushes your head off the floor first, no one has yet to notice the sudden life stuttering its way through your body. But the desperation never leaves your head. How long?! You scream, but no words leave you. Your mouth dry and parched, the words catching on the cut that is struck across your throat.

As you look up you realize that Cazador is at his last step. The last part, a mere handful of seconds left. You push yourself off the ground, your legs carry you faster than your newly living lungs can keep up with, but you catch him.

You catch Cazador as you leap towards the edge, a bone crushing grip settled around his ribs. You drag him to whatever pit of hell awaits under his sick idea of a ritualistic battleground that he had built to ascend.

To become great.

To take away Astarion.

The descent towards the floor of the pit goes by in seconds, but Cazador is scratching and pushing, biting and attempting to flee. You will not let him. Your keen ears hear his body connect with the ground a mere millisecond before yours does. A mere fraction of a moment, that you use to hope. Hope that this stopped the ritual, that Astarion is safe.

And once more everything is black.

You cannot help but wonder if they tried to pay Withers. To bring you back. What he said, what they discussed, would they try to get your body? Put themselves on the line for your unanimated corpse?

You were perhaps nothing more than a splotch on the ground, but you still thought. You were thinking. You are thinking.

Your eyes open with the same voracity as the breath you take in. No longer a splotch, no longer a pile of mess. You were in your own body again. In your own body, with heat. Heat pouring from your beating heart, pumping the blood and startling your limbs to reset. Your tears start and you sob. You wretch every gasp of air through your body as you lay at the bottom of a seemingly endless pit.

And as your brittle bones register the muscles surrounding them, they realize they are not so brittle after all. They are living. Moving, constricting, cramping, releasing. They tense as you push yourself to sit up.

Seemingly endless vastness peers down at you from the great beyond that you see when you look up. Climb, no think, just climb, no look around. Your head and heart scream, striking your ears with a piercing pitch. 

You look around first, no one just makes a ditch. It has to have a purpose. Your aching legs agree to push you up, the all too familiar burn spreading through your body. The burn that you have labeled ‘The experience of one more life’, the feeling of living. Again.

You trudge insecurely across the unstable floor that you cannot see in the complete darkness. Your eyes only adjust enough to see your own nose, you’ve learnt that your eyes wake up last, probably due to the separate immune system awakening to the…situation?

You put your hands up, stumbling into a wall, following it, finding an arch. A doorway, probably. And stairs. Stairs. Inside the doorway. You crawl up, making sure that one hand follows the edge, your other leads you. Slowly. 

As you get nearer to the top, your body no longer burns from life, but from exhaustion. Step by step, you near the dim light of the ritualistic battlefield that you fell from. Dead silence.

Your heart once more burns as you realize that you left your companions to fight, you forced a hand that Cazador couldn’t have dealt. You never even felt what should have been Cazador’s splotch on the ground that you awoke on, nothing sticky, icky or gooey. The light finally shows you your hands, which are covered in nothing but dust and dirt of some kind.

The far top reveals that you just climbed a tower, the bridge that would have led directly to Cazador’s ritual is completely broken. But your companions might need help, they might not have lived like you always seemed to. They might need you to pay Withers. Bring them back. Your legs brace themselves for the jump towards the center. You should have jumped further, you realize, as your chest collides with jutted bricks, your breath cascaded out as your nails dig into any crevice they can get hold of. A single slip and you start over. 

You refuse. You clamber up the edge, sitting right behind what would have been Astarion’s circle. No ashes, no bones, he must be alright. A quick glance tells you that no bones here are mildly human. You push your legs forward once more, stand up. Walk over past Cazador’s empty tomb, his distraught body slowly succumbing to the laws of nature. But not gone.

You stomp over his skull, then you pause, then you repeat. Again and again and again, the heat of rage spreads through you. Fuck this place, fuck Cazador, fuck this ritual. 

Your head thumps as you look towards the stairs leading up, leading out. The steps are tenfold worse than from the tower, the adrenaline gone, the rush faded, even the anger disappeared as quickly as it entered. 

The top of the stairs is adorned by voices, whispers almost. Then only the silence broken by your tired steps on the staircase. You practically drag your body the rest of the way. Another doorway, leading to…people.

People with swords pointed at you, bows drawn, daggers at the ready. The monster hunters stand ready, their weapons drawn. The center of them, just in front of the elevator that leads out. Astarion. Beautiful, kind, Astarion.

Astarion who pushes past the hunters in front of him, Astarion who runs to you, Astarion who leaps into your arms. Your legs barely brace for his body's impact, before they give in and the two of you collapse onto your knees, the hard floor doing nothing for the pain that shoots through your body.

Gorgeous Astarion who sobs into your embrace as you hold him. The tears stream down your own cheeks, the command for everyone to stand down is given. Astarion pulls away, peels himself away from you. The lack of him makes you feel cold.

“You-” Astarion sneers, “I saw you! What did y-”

He doesn’t manage to finish his sentence as the tears cascade over his angry expression and he sends a flurry of weak punches into you. A sob wracks through his body.

“Cazador knew you! You know he knew you.”

You realize Astarion’s eyes are not filled with anger directed at you, but himself. He remembers you. He remembers handing you to Cazador.

“I forgive you, Astarion. I would throw myself off an edge to save you a million times over.” You mutter back, your hands finding the sides of his face. You bring his face to yours, plant a sweet kiss on him. You pull away and plant Astarion’s forehead against you. His hands hold yours, still on his face.

“You’re that invulnerable boy. I’m so sorry.” Astarion mutters through more gasps and sobs.

“I forgive you, I forgave you a long time ago, before ever meeting you again. You’re my everything, Astarion. I wouldn’t change a thing about the past if it meant I would never meet you again.” You tumble out, the saltiness of your tears entering your mouth as your words stumble. 

You fall into each other's embrace again, a silent promise. Truth goes both ways. But not now. Now is reserved for this.

[reverieparacosm]

hi! could you please write yandere!sauron x fem reader hcs? maybe sauron had a dream of this woman who fulfills a prophecy he read that would make him more powerful so he sends his minions to bring her to him and when he meets her there is a magical bond between them and he is obsessed with her

Prophecy: Yandere!Sauron x F!Reader

Warnings: Yandere, possessive behaviors, manipulation, gaslighting, kidnapping, slavery, (Sauron is already a red flag -)

Note: Your wish is my command! I am weak for Yandere Sauron.

Remember kids - please do not enslave people just because you saw them in dreams

Sauron's thirst for power is unending

As the Dark Lord of Mordor, he is always on the lookout for ways to increase his influence and rule over Middle-Earth

One night, he is visited by a vision of a woman who would help him fulfill a prophecy that would grant him even more power. This vision ignites a fiery determination within him, and he sets his minions on the task of finding her and bringing her to him

His servants search far and wide, but the woman is elusive and hard to find. Months pass without success, but finally, one of his minions stumbles upon her during a routine scouting mission

He brings Sauron the news, and the Dark Lord is overjoyed. He immediately orders his minions to keep a close eye on her and bring him regular reports

But Sauron's desire for this mysterious woman grows stronger with each passing day. He wants her for himself, and orders his minions to bring her to him

She is everything he has hoped she would be - powerful and capable of fulfilling the prophecy. The moment they meet, Sauron feels a magical bond between them that he has never experienced before. He is immediately obsessed with her, unable to tear his eyes away from her

With a single glimpse, he is captivated by her beauty. So much so that he takes her face in his hand before she has even noticed his presence. His ice-cold mental glove caresses her cheeks and he absorbs every delicate detail, leaving her with an unsettling sensation

When she turns her head to the side, Sauron becomes more aggressive. He grabbs her chin with one hand and held her neck with the other, forcing her to look into his eye

Despite being an evil, dark lord with a reputation for cruelty, he develops a soft spot for her

He tells his minions not to harm her and threatens those who do with severe punishment. He does not want to lose her or drive her away, for he knows that she is the key to fulfilling his ultimate goal - becoming the most powerful being in Middle-Earth

"I would rather burn the world than see it harm you."

Sauron spends every waking hour with her, pouring his heart and soul into their relationship. He is desperate to learn everything he could about her, her abilities, and her place in the grand scheme of things. He is certain that she is the one he has been seeking for so long, the one who would help him achieve true greatness

As the days pass, the bond between them only grows stronger, and Sauron's obsession with her only deepens. He knows that the prophecy is within his grasp, and he would do whatever it takes to fulfill it with her by his side

The woman is initially reluctant to trust Sauron. But as he charms her with his words and gifts, she begins to fall under his spell

Sauron soon begins to see the woman as his property and becomes increasingly possessive and demanding. He expects her to devote all of her time and energy to him, and becomes violent when she tries to resist

"Your heart beats in harmony with mine, the two inextricably linked in a bond so strong that no other force can break it. You are mine, and I am yours, our destinies intertwined forevermore."

Sauron is constantly monitoring the woman, using magic to invade her thoughts and dreams. He knows her every move and thought, and he uses this knowledge to control her

Sauron revels in her obedience, especially when she sits at his feet as he holds court with his many war generals. It is a constant reminder of his power over her, and he loves having her as his symbol. Even when he is deep in conversation, he still takes a moment to stroke her hair, relishing in her submission. He senses the tension in her body, and it only increases his satisfaction

"There is no one like you, my beautiful darling. The way you bend to my will pleases me greatly. You are a constant reminder of the power I have over you, and it thrills me to no end. Even in the midst of battle, I cannot help but take a moment to stroke your hair, relishing in your submission. Your body trembles with tension, and it only increases my satisfaction. Never forget who you belong to. I am your master, and you will forever be my symbol."

The woman is conflicted about Sauron's behavior, but she is unable to resist the powerful bond between them. She tries to convince herself that she can change him, but as time goes on, she realizes that he is too deeply engrained in his dark ways to change

If she tries to escape, Sauron would likely use his powerful magic to track her down and capture her

He would stop at nothing to keep her under his control. If the woman manages to escape his grasp, Sauron would likely become more obsessed than ever, and he would use all of his resources to find her and bring her back to him. He would stop at nothing to keep her by his side, even if it meant using his most dark and nefarious tactics to do so

"You are my most prized treasure, my greatest possession. No one on this earth or beyond it will ever take you away from me. Our love is eternal, a bond that cannot be broken or tarnished by any force in existence."

[umbralaether]

You’re better than him, Astarion.

Her words ring in his ears long after she’d said them, but even they couldn’t cast away the dark feelings lingering in his mind.

He hadn’t left their shared room since Cazador’s death. He should be celebrating, maybe, or at least rejoicing in the fact his master was dead and gone— never to hunt him again. Instead, he found a heaviness that refused to leave his limbs, his own psyche weighing him down.

Ah, I see you found yourself a little pet. Or is it a snack? Peculiar choice, regardless.

He thinks of the first time he drank from her, how he’d almost gone too far in his bloodlust. How she woke weak and pale—a hard feat with her dark skin—yet continued to push herself beyond her limits. He thinks of the times she’d bruised from his fangs, how he had manipulated her into his orbit in the first place.

He had done that, and Cazador’s words dig deeper into his chest. Only a someone truly evil could do what he’s done. Once a monster, always a monster.

He doesn’t hear her come in, still staring at the ceiling, but he feels her sit on the bed beside him. She says nothing, taking off her boots and outer clothes. Her scent fills the room, refueling the dull ache in his body and he briefly wonders how many days have passed since he last fed.

Not that it mattered, he would refuse to use her like that ever again.

“Astarion,” his name coming from her mouth is a gift, and yet it stings. She should hate him, or at least be disgusted. Not soft, and gentle and loving.

“Please, look at me.”

He just wants to rot, lay in this dark room until he crumbles to dust. She would be better off, anyway, without a leech at her side. She could have a real life.

“What can I do? I’m begging you, love, please don’t push me away.”

“Go, Ceruli. You deserve better than a parasite.” His voice was rough from disuse, and when he finally looks her way, her face—that godsdamn beautiful face— looks at him as if he’d just slapped her.

Good one, he thinks miserably.

“Do you feel better, getting that off your chest?” She always was quick to regain her composure, “Because I have a few counter arguments.”

He says nothing, and goes back to staring at the ceiling.

“Parasites don’t ask permission, first of all. They just show up and take. That’s not you, no matter what Cazador said.” She moves closer to him, legs tucked under her and her warmth radiating, “I love you. I made a choice to love you, and I won’t stop loving you just because you believe you’re unworthy.”

He feels tears forming, and closes his eyes to keep them from falling.

“If I have to remind you everyday how much you mean to me, I will. I’ll make a list of everything I love about you, engrave it in stone forevermore.” She reaches for him, her hand cupping his cheek, thumb moving back and forth rhythmically. Her signature loving gesture.

A dam breaks, and suddenly he’s pulling her to him. He all but crushes her to him, arms wrapped tightly around her, face buried in her chest— her heart beats steadily, an endless comfort.

Sobs wrack his body; all the guilt, shame, and grief bleeding from him after decades of forming a shell around them. He clings to her, desperate for her touch, her warmth, after refusing her touch for who knows how many days.

She gives it without hesitation. Fingers running through his unkempt hair, down his back. Kisses peppered along his hairline, his temples, his forehead. Anywhere she can reach. She murmurs sweet nothings to him, the kindest of words and just when he feels as though he’ll crumble from her love, she says a name he has not heard in centuries.

“My sweet, shining star.”

It’s like the world spins to a stop. He peers up at her, “What did you say?”

“Your name. In elvish, it means ‘little star’. Or at least I think it does, I’m not fluent but…”

He chokes out a quiet laugh, “You, my love, are incredible.”

He closes the small gap between them with a kiss, reveling once again in the taste of her mouth, her skin. He trails them down her face, along her jaw, then her throat. He hovers over her pulse point, hesitating.

Her hand cups his face again, “Go on, love. You’ll feel better if you feed. Please don’t torture yourself anymore.”

His resolve breaks. He would do anything for her, after all. He sinks his teeth in, and the ecstasy of her blood in his mouth has him groaning with pleasure. He drinks until she stops him, and he kisses all along her face afterwards.

“Thank you, my lovely gem.” He feels lighter, the weight of all his baggage finally dissolving, albeit slowly, “I don’t know what I’d do without you.”

“Always, my star. I’m not going anywhere.”

They stay there, holding each other, neither one willing to let go first.

[arsonlookers]

IMAGINE

________zhongli x reader_____________________

You have been together with Zhongli for as long as you remember. You are also an immortal like him, you have ups and downs in your relationship. But in the end, you love him too much to be mad at him. Yes, you have been jealous of many girls who are beautiful and gentle the total opposite of you, who is an Archon known as the adepti who fought alongside Rexlapiz.

But he accepted you as you are and even asked for your hand in marriage after everything, the misunderstanding, the past with the Goddess of dust or the traveler, the pain. After all, it all matters only the ending, right?

You're happy with Zhongli, and this is the best ending you could have after millennials fight to build this city, to protect this land.

But imagine... after everything... The sacrifices... the happy and lovely moments, when you thought that it won't get any better than this. He asked for your hand a second time, but this time you can feel this is it. You know he loves you and he is sure this time. This is the happy END.

forward to the ceremony, it was simple and just a small ceremony with the people you loved and cherished. A simple and wholesome day, warm, sunny, and lovely as you can see him standing in front of the altar waiting for you to be his forever, his bride, for real. it was a tearful moment to watch.

Zhongli with his white suit, hair down, his charming smile while looking at you, waiting at the altar as you get closer to him and he stretched his hand unto you and smiled, you reached unto his hand and smiled back.

the ceremony was peaceful, the chirp of birds and rustling of trees and leaves as if nature approved of our marriage. and the moment you are waiting has come, the vows.

Zhongli, as he said his Vows to you and slipped a jade ring onto your finger "I promise to love you forever till death do us part, my beloved" and he looked at you with Golden melted color eyes looking at you with adoration

you smile and also state your vows, as tears start to slowly make their way into your eyes "I promise to love you Forever and forever till death do us part, morax"

After the vows you looked at each other and smiled, this moment is only for the both of you, this moment is special to both of you... especially to YOu.

like a slow motion in a movie, You close your eyes as you feel his hands on the back of your head slowly guide you for the Kiss, the kiss is ethereal, It is sweet... it feels real... It was lovely ... YOu love it...

You love every second of it, every moment, but as you open your eyes again, he is still there smiling... but frozen.

as a screen pops up and states:

[YOU HAVE ACHIEVED THE HAPPY ENDING WITH MORAX, WOULD YOU LIKE TO PLAY AGAIN? ]

[YES] [NO]

after all everything ... every moment is not real... "But i love you" you mumbled in pain,

tear one after another, paired with chocked coughs pains.

realization hits , but even so, you look up the screen still in there, floating.

you reach for Zhongli's peaceful smiling face and kiss him one more time, hug him one more time, and whisper "I love you" one last time.

and smiled as a tear dropped in your cheek

"Love you forevermore morax"

as your hand click to choose ....

[YES].................[NO]

a/n: hello againnn~ so this is just a ramble there may be a part that is confusing but there are two endings to this it depends if you choose [YES ]or[ NO] but soon maybe I can do the other two endings. and in this scenario, Zhongli is a character in an otome game, and the player [you] is playing it because you likes Zhongli in the game. but more details on that later, I hope it is easy to understand... hehe

And if your reading this, THANK U FOR READING AND HAVE A GREAT DAY!!

[fairykazu]

letters to her ft. kazuha

cws: established relationship, f! reader (referred as lady, princess, etc), third person, making up lore to fit the story, princess bride ref

masterlist

kazuha stood tall amidst the warmer breeze that inazuma had to shoulder for the spring, every cherry blossom tree was in bloom, the pink petals falling to the ground. he pocketed one petal for her as his long, white hair dancing like ribbons of silk in the gentle winds. red eyes scanning the horizon as he was searching for a glimpse of the one who held his heart captive.

just before leaving to inazuma last night, he had written her another letter, his heart pouring out onto the parchment paper as if it was the lighting storm that showers over the islands, blessed by the electro archon herself. he wrote carefully as the ink stained his fingers; words blurred together as his vision began to blur with tears. unspoken words he'd never said out loud.

as he was traveling by boat to the city, the memory of their first meeting came flooding back, he remembered it as if it was yesterday. he was left, stranded, in the harsh wilderness of the islands, abandoned to care for himself.

thankfully, a woman had taken him in out of pity. although kazuha wasn't the type to believe in the archons like he used to, he thanked them above for blessing his eyes with her. her beautiful, sparkling eyes and her dimples when she smiled. she was truly someone who was as beautiful as the ocean waves when they crash on the shore. he had fallen to her charms quicker than the first snowflake that danced in the winter.

he remembered how kind she was as she poured him some jasmine tea. her delicate hands made him feel safe. even then, in his heart, he had known that she was the one. the one who would make all his pain and suffering worth it.

once he arrived on the dock of the city, it had been a long time since he saw her. years had passed since, but their love for each other had only grown stronger. they exchanged countless letters, sharing their deepest desires and fears. promises were made, vowing to be together soon. kazuha took out a letter from his pocket, unfolding it. clutching it close to his chest, the scent of her perfume lingered on the paper, taunting him with the memory of her.

closing his eyes, he allowed himself to be consumed by the moments of their time together, reliving each memory as if it were happening all at once.

he chuckled silently to himself as he remembered the way she would laugh, how her eyes would sparkle when she smiled, nights they spent together, whispering secrets and sharing dreams beneath the starlit sky.

like how the archon mythology had said when people were originally had four arms, four legs and two heads, but when the archons had a war, it eventually split the people into beings with two arms, two legs and one head, doomed or blessed them with their other half wandering the world.

maybe, she was his other half, and he was fated to be hers forevermore.

his heart started to race once he arrived at her estate, hoping that he would be embraced by her arms once again. pink blossoms waltzed in the wind around him, the scent of love in the air. the grand mansion loomed before him, its towers reaching towards the celestials.

the door was guarded with two knights, clad in their bright armor, holding onto their polearms as if their life depended on it. he took a deep breath, steeling himself for what was to come. one of them asked the ivory haired samurari,

"state your business."

"i am here to see the lady." kazuha replied, staying calm despite the broody knights staring daggers into his soul. he smiled politely as one of them raised a brow,

"the lady? don't be silly, young man. everyone in the world wants to see the lady. please show me how you know her."

kazuha didn't expect the security to increase when he was gone. he handed the letter he recieved from you recently to the broody knight number one.

broody knight number one laughed in kazuha's face, the saliva sticking to his face. he grabbed a tissue, wiping his face. "young man, don't make me laugh!” loud, booming fits of laughter came from both knights. “this is no way the lady's handwriting." he squinted, passing it to the second broody knight.

"i agree. this must be a bootleg version. nice try, kid." kazuha tried to take back the letter but the knight only had ripped it up in front of him, his eyes grew to saucers, watching the parchment become one with the pink flowers. as kazuha was about to unsheathe his sword, a little man, dressed in all black, presumably the butler, creaked open the doors. he waddled to one of the knights, whispering something.

as the laughter took a full stop, a moment of silence increased the tension. the knights' facade of being proud dropped completely, laughing nervously. "my apologies, sir kaedehara, we weren't aware of your business with the lady."

he retorted back, "you would've if you read the contents of the letter." the knight opened the door wide open, making the brass knockers clink against the wooden door.

as the doors were still open, kazuha sauntered his way into the mansion; it revealed a grand hall adorned with tapestries and different styled paintings of your family. kazuha could feel the weight of the knights' daggered gaze upon his head again, he chuckled nervously, forgetting that he made a remark towards their intergity.

most definitely, deserved though.

he made his way towards the staircase that led to the upper levels of her estate.

as he ascended up on the marble stairs, the tension in the air grew more cruel, colder. it was as if the whole world was holding their breath, waiting for him to arrive; it made him realize that he was holding his breath too.

he made himself relax as he paused for a moment on the top of the stairs, taking in the surroundings around him. from the lavish furnishings to countless, new portraits framed in gold, each single one served as a painful reminder of his time apart from you.

he was familiar with the hallways, turning a left, reaching her chamber. his heart was pounding in his chest, taking a deep breath just before he steadied himself. he knocked on the door, "my lady, are you there?"

a moment of silence came before a click of the latch replied to kazuha's question. the door swung open, revealing his lady in front of him. she was more beautiful than he ever remembered, even if he attempted to remember her appearance, engraved in his mind. it couldn't compare to reality

. her eyes lit up like sparkles in the night sky, "hello, my knight, how are you? how was your journey?" she said with grace, upholding the reputation she has across many towns. her voice was soft and sweet just like how he remembered.

taking her delicate hands into his calloused ones, he kissed her knuckles, "it was beautiful despite the harshness of the weather." your face shifted uncomfortably. "don't worry, princess, i wasn't hurt badly. in fact," from his bag, he grabbed a single rainbow rose he saved just for her. "i have this flower for you. it reminded me of you."

she smiled, her teeth shining brightly, "thank you, my knight. care to come in?"

kazuha nodded. the door behind him shut closed. she took a deep breath, taking a step forward, her facade as a perfect lady crumbled before him. her hand trembled, reaching out to his cheek, "kazuha," she whispered, her voice hoarse with emotion. "you've come back to me." tears began to form, creating little pearls at her eyes.

"i promised that i would." kazuha replied, gently comforting her as she pulled him into a tight embrace, clinging to him as if she might never let go. he wrapped his arms around her, burying his face in her neck, breathing in her familiar scent.

it was the scent of home, of love, of everything that had maintained him during the years they had been apart. kazuha departed from her embrace. he lit the fireplace as it crackled and cackled. he returned to the nook of the bedroom. he carried her to the loveseat, sitting next to her. she gazed into her lover's eyes,

she sniffled, "kazuha, i adore you. although sometimes i wonder if i'd be enough for you?" her snot running down her nose, he quickly retrieved a tissue, wiping the snot from her face.

"you know, i'll always come back to you, princess," he said softly, brushing a lock of hair from her face. "no matter where I go or what I do, you'll always be the star that guides me home."

she smiled through her tears; her face began to light up. "and you, kazuha, my love, you're the only one who can make this place feel like home." she leaned into him, her body warm and familiar against his. "stay with me, won't you?"

he returned her smile, sweetly, wiping a single tear off her face, "of course, my lady, i wouldn't want to be anywhere else but with you." he pressed a kiss to her head, humming a tune.

she nodded, sniffling, wiping her nose with the tissue kazuha gave her. "thank you, my knight." she rested her head against his shoulder, her breath warm against his neck. "i've missed your stories about your adventures; do tell me, what have you been up to since you left?"

"as you wish, my lady."

[maries-gallery]

Firs entrance to @randonauticrap 's COZYTOBER event!

CONGRATS AGAIN ON 250 BABY YOU DESERVE ALL OF US AND WAY MORE!

genre: fluff

warnings: none

wordcount: 1k

Prompt: Cursed by Lord Huron

Lyrics: "The spell she cast on me is real”, "I gotta find me a cure.", "I was doomed by our first kiss."

star banner by the lovely @/saradika

For more content like this, check the masterlist

Through his travels at sea, Silvio had seen and experienced many things. 

Through rain and thunderstorms he had witnessed the waves rise before his ship, so high they kissed the sky. In the middle of the ocean, he had witnessed the vast infinity of the world and understood what it truly meant to be by one’s self. On more occasions than one he had witnessed the Sun being swallowed by clouds of coal and smoke, the sea tainted with ink as light faded in the distance. 

Yet nothing ever got his heart hammering in his chest the way you did. Nothing ever instilled such fear, such wonder. Never had he encountered as wickedly enchanting a creature as you. 

Never, had he been drawn to anything as much as he found himself drawn to you, lured by the flickers in your gaze and by the taste of his name on your tongue. 

He knows he should stay away, but it’s too late, you’ve caught his heart and made it yours. Locking it away in your treasure chest, leaving him cold and empty and heaving for mercy. 

He was doomed by the first kiss. A kiss he had stolen from you himself in the hope of shutting you up, instead you had taken his heart in return. Every thought now haunted by the softness of your lips on his and the sweet taste of your scent. 

And a part of him wants to flee, to free himself from your claws and swim back to the surface. Yet another part of him finds comfort in the power you have over him, in the hold you have over his every thought and every waking hour. As much as he hates it. 

He stares at you as the two of you stand on the beach, pouring rain soaking through his bones yet he can’t seem to care. Feet rooted in the sand as he holds your gaze, your eyes piercing through him and there is nothing he can do to escape from you. 

Not when you’ve stolen the air from his lungs and his survival depends on your vicinity alone. So even as the tears of the sky stain through his clothes, he remains in front of you. 

You stare at him, a scowl on your features as you cross your arms over your chest. He had said something unkind yet again, and you had gone to the beach in front of the Benitoitian castle to avoid throwing a punch at him. 

His heart twists in his chest as a visible shiver wracks through your body and in a flash he is by your side, removing his coat to drape it over your shoulders. He hopes you don’t catch the concern in his gaze. 

“Damnit you really have no sense of self preservation. Didn’t you see it was pourin’?” He scowls, and warmth spreads in his chest as you shoot him a glare.  

“Honestly between staying in the same room as you and the rain, I’ll take the rain in a heartbeat.” You say, yet your hands still clutch at the fabric of his coat, seeking its warmth and comfort. His heart flutters at the sight. 

Part of him wants to learn your wits and how you play your tricks. How you managed to wrap him around your finger with such ease. Another part of him doesn’t care, already too lost in you, slowly drowning in the gentle warmth that lulls his chest at the mere thought of you. 

Each kiss a deal with the devil he can’t escape, each kiss another part of his soul he willingly sells to you for eternity and forevermore. 

It is not even like the two of you are a thing. Your lips just happened to meet a few too many times than proper. Either in an attempt to shut the other up or because of unbridled frustration. 

Sometimes he thinks you might be a witch, a siren of sorts, one that sings sailors to their death. Unlucky sailors like him, weak to your charms. But then again, it doesn't seem like you are trying to lure him in. In fact it is quite the opposite. 

It is not like you are kind or tender to him, not like you are soft in your advances or bold in your seduction. No. You’re scorching fire and raging passion, especially when it comes to arguing with him or demonstrating just how much of a “pain in the ass” he is to you. 

And maybe that’s why he found himself so drawn to you in the first place. Not because of some supernatural charm, not because of some spell he cannot escape. But because of you. Because you are the first woman that dares be honest with him, that dares put him back in his place and would rather jump into a sea of sharks than let him buy you with his money. 

Maybe the reason he finds himself so drawn to you, is because you are the first to see him as a person. 

Maybe that is why, even the most hurtful of words and most insulting sentences sound like a blessing when sung in your voice. And before he knows it Silvio would rather cross Hell by your side than go through Heaven alone. 

You make hating you so tempting. Yet he can’t find the strength in himself to push you away, strangely enamoured by the thought of you spitting your fire at him yet again. 

The spell you cast on him is real. And he has to find a cure, but he doesn’t know if he wants to. 

“You should come back inside.” He says, swallowing thickly as bitterness coats his tongue at your harsh gaze. 

He waits for you to move, for you to go back to the safety of the palace. And when you do, he follows after you, because where else would he go? 

And even though he knows you’re in Benitoite as Belle, he wishes you’d come for him instead.

taglist: @aquagirl1978 @xbalayage (COME GET YOUR MAN) @pockcock @nightghoul381 @itsjudesfault @veervers @candied-boys @kalims-pessimist-bestie @ikesimpleton @ikemen-writer

[wannaeatramyeon]

Hi, can I request break up to make up (angst to fluff) story with Jake Kim? It was when Jake running an illegal toto, that time Jake was super busy that he neglected his s/o & his s/o hated that he running an illegal bussiness, then they broke up. After he got out from juvenile, he looked after his s/o to say sorry and try to win his s/o's heart back. Sorry for my bad english & thank you in advance 💙

Anon, your english is pretty fantastic. And even if it isn't, don't apologise for it!

Thanks for the ask and so sorry for the delay!

Jake Kim x Reader: To the end

Gambling arc to juvie release

"I have to do this for Big Deal."

"But this isn't what Big Deal stands for!"

"It's what I need to do for us to survive."

You hate that Jake never looks at you. Not once. Like he's already made up his mind. You were meant to stand with him to the end. He promised.

"You know how much Sinu would hate this!"

"Sinu isn't here anymore." Jake's words hit you like a gut punch.

He catches your lower lip trembling. Those lips he's kissed a thousand times before, and wants to kiss forevermore. Your touch, your taste. It's seared into his memory.

"You're going to ruin other people's lives including your own. I can't watch you do this," you whisper. He's going down a path you cannot and will not follow.

Countless shows and movies and books have misled you. You thought a break up would be screaming, tears, anger. All you feel is empty. Helpless.

Like the Jake Kim you know is slipping between your fingers and there is nothing you can do to stop it.

"I don't want you to neither," Jake holds your hands, thumbs brushing your knuckles. He memorises the feel of your hand in his.

I'm protecting you, he reasons. It's for the best.

He forces the words out, "I think this is the end of the road for us."

How odd to think only a couple days ago you woke up in each other's arms. You thought your love for one another was so obvious, that everyone could practically see a love heart pulsating overhead.

Yet now, so suddenly, you've reached a dead end.

"...If that's what you want," You can't bring yourself to remove your hands from his, to sever the last of your connection.

Big Deal is too dangerous. Your safety is a risk Jake cannot take. The gambling racket is a burden he needs to shoulder. Alone.

"It is," he lies, and lets you go.

He never meets your gaze even as you leave.

It's easier this way.

.

.

"Please Jerry, just write down what I say and deliver it to Y/N."

Even with the visitor's barrier between them, Jake could feel the displeasure radiating off Jerry.

(When Big Deal initially found out about the break up, no-one said a word. They didn't need to. The disagreement with how their leader has handled his own personal relationship was written all over their faces.)

And maybe Jake should let sleeping dogs lie, Jerry certainly thought so. But after ending up in Juvie, he feels like he owes you an explanation. Or at least an apology.

Shame that you are right to the bitter end. The lives he's dragged down with him weigh heavy on his conscience. That young kid - Jiho. Members of Big Deal including Brad, Jason.

What a mess.

.

.

Juvie gives Jake a lot of time to think.

That the quicker you forget about him, the better.

But the thought of forgetting you. Of referring to you as in the past, history, done. Of your face and smile and voice fading from memory. It hurts him more than he can bear.

Every night, drifting off to sleep in a room full of other delinquents, he would allow his thoughts to wander.

What are you doing with your life now? Are you still fretting over your grades? Have you been spending your spare time with friends? Did you go to that new cafe in the end? See that film you were excited for? Have you found someone that could actually make you happy? Do you still think about me? Do you remember the times we had? Do you miss me like I miss you-

Jake imagines the lilt of your voice as you respond, eyes bright and full of life, smile beautiful and beaming.

Other times, the masochism takes hold and under the cloak of darkness, Jake gives into the fantasy of you both living a normal life. An alternate universe where there are no complications, and you are both two kids that simply fell in love.

Eventually, dawn breaks and in the cold light of day, there is no escaping reality.

.

.

"Hi Jake,"

"Y/N?"

It's you. Really you. Is this a nightmare or the most perfect dream? Jerry had delivered the letter and this was the last thing Jake expected. Did he not make it clear enough how dangerous this is for you?

"Yeah... Jerry pulled some strings so I could visit you."

Oh. Well Jerry kept this quiet.

Awkwardness and tension lingers in the air. Neither one of you had spoken or seen each other since that night nearly a year ago.

"Y/N..." Strange that your name feels rusty on Jake's tongue when you are constantly in his thoughts.

"Fuck you," Your vitriol catches him off-guard. Eyes full of fury, lips turned down, "You promised we're a team. You promised you wouldn't leave me out."

You slam the letter against the screen, "This is bullshit, Jake Kim. And you know it."

"How do you not understand this?" Jake's voice starts to rise in frustration, "The danger with Gun and the crews? This is for the best-"

You cut him off with the one and only question that matters to you. That frayed the edge of your sanity for months on end-

"Do you still love me?"

The question stuns him. He considers saying otherwise but he can't refute this. After everything, denying it feels like one lie too far.

Jake doesn't offer anything but a lack of answer is enough for you. For your spark of hope.

"I'll wait for you. I'll see you when you get out."

Your intentions are laid clear. Jake doesn't say no.

.

.

You don't visit again.

However, you give snippets of your life faithfully delivered by Jerry.

It starts as a few sentences, then develops into paragraphs, and finally into pages.

Snapshots of you. Your life, your thoughts. A little like how it used to be.

Jake hears your voice each time he reads your words. Thinks about your furrowed brows or dimpled smile that accompanies. He reads each letter over and over again, until they're dog-earred and turning brittle at the creases.

Even the ones full of anger and hurt.

He responds whenever he can. Treasuring the stationery rewarded for good behaviour, greedily hoarding it all to write back.

Over the weeks and months, the ice starts to thaw.

.

.

On the day Jake is released, the rest of the crew greet him with smiles and signage and "Good to have you back, Sir!"

You're also there. Standing next to Jerry and Big Deal, like you have always belonged.

"Welcome back, Sir," you tease, easily slipping back into old habits.

"You actually waited for me?"

"I said I would."

Of course you did. But Jake couldn't blame you if you changed your mind.

.

.

The conversation continues in his bedroom. Away from prying but well-meaning ears.

Jake has missed this. Being around his things, his crew, his street, you.

"I love you, you idiot. For better or worse."

The underlying tension still remains though you see no point in withholding the depth of your affection.

Jake takes a moment, running your words through his mind. He still needs to ensure you truly understand what being with him means.

"You know how dangerous getting mixed up with Big Deal is, right?" he attempts. You cut him off with a sharp look.

Seriously. If he starts this shit up again. Who does he take you for? Some innocent little girl?

"Fine, fine." Jake holds up both hands as a sign of surrender, before he finally says those words you have been dreaming of:

"I love you too."

(He wonders if he would ever regret this moment of weakness and selfishness, but he sees your smile and knows he could never regret making you happy.)

The tension breaks.

Jake slips easily back into his old habits too, snaking his arms around your waist and capturing your mouth in a kiss.

He has missed this - being yours, most of all.

When you break apart, Jake doesn't shy away from your gaze this time. He intends to keep his promise to you. You're his partner. His equal.

With him to the end.

[undermine-the-instinct]

[ IF NO ONE HAS EVER TOLD YOU ABOUT YOUR FATE, I WILL BE THE FIRST | pathologic ]

This is my entry in the Seraphiism '23 event! By of course, the lovely @seraphiism . I'm trying out a new format/writing style, so lemme know what you think <3

WARNINGS: A little blood, nothing graphic WORD COUNT: 3.2K (This got away from me)

{ I.THE BOUGH KEEPER IS SACRIFICE FIRST, SOLDIER SECOND, AND LAST OF ALL MAN}

And least of all, yours. The weight of eternity weighs heavily on his shoulders, but he presses on, and you mourn him for it. He pays the price of honor enacted by a far lesser man of his past, takes up arms and spills blood in the scorn of the divine. Because of Destiny’s decree.

You try to imagine it–eternal penance for a crime you could hardly remember. You imagine bearing a sword and a curse, one and the same, for hundreds of years, and your heart recoils at the misery that wraps around it. You can hardly believe that that is to be his fate-you refuse to. It cannot truly be his choice, not one made in any good faith at least. Or perhaps any faith at all.

You suspect he lost it ages ago.

“Do you ever think…” You begin hesitantly. “That you could leave it behind? All of it?”

Dainsleif, your lover, sets down his book. It's one of the ones you’ve kept around, and it seems he finally has time to peruse them, however borrowed that time it is.

“All of it?”

“...Yeah.” 

“No. No.” He reiterates. And he smiles for you, because he knows how much it makes your heart warm. 

“I can't abandon my duty, neither can I abandon you. They are one and the same.  You are…woven into me. Cutting you off from my life would be cutting away the fabric of my soul. I could never.”

“...Why do you feel they’re one and the same?” A weight on his heart. Perhaps.

He fingers the worn pages of the book, his eyes dark in thought.

“I have a responsibility to the world, and you are a part of the world.”

“Those two sound so very far removed. I'm just one person, but if I could decide, my sole desire would be just to rest with you.”

He chuckles, good naturedly, like always. “If the world was ruled by our desires, I'd have been forever and solely yours already. And there would be no gods, but you.” For a man who rages and detests the divine, you’re not sure how to feel about that.

“But alas, the world often ignores our most fervent desires, unless we force it to acknowledge us that is.” A weight tugs his brow down, and his features buckle under it. Something like grief. “And that…is a very hard thing to do.”

“Alas.” 

You nod, and return to your wayward gaze out the window. You imagine a life where he lives for you, and nothing else. You try to deny in your mind that he would want anything else. What could he find out in the world that he cannot find in your arms? A cursed man, believing himself content in penance and self flagellation, of service to the world at large.

But he is yours. You deny the world in his place.

{II.THERE IS A ROT THAT REPLACES THE MARROW OF HIS BONES}

It is woven into him, and he cannot escape it. He has long stopped trying.

It wears and tears at his soul, and marks his skin in scars, and he continues on.  Fate has decreed that he will do so forevermore, until the day the abyss drags him down into its depths, its spindly fingers already grasping at him in twisting, molted blues. But he tries, because when you kiss the expanse of cursed flesh, a blissful smile on your face, a sudden rush of heat makes his skin prickle. It’s not love, though he loves you. It's rage.

Its disgust, and sick vitriol. You deserve better, you deserve more. You don't need this broken tapestry of pieces clinging onto some semblance of humanity. You don't need your nights interrupted by his nightmares, or his form clinging to your doorway, bloodied and offering the only tribute he knows to your altar.

He does not worship the Gods, but he knows something more divine, having long since slipped into the pews of your chapel.

“...I’m sorry.” You rush towards him, and he leans into the shoulder you offer him, letting you pull him into your bathroom where he stains the white porcelain.

“If you were sorry–” you huff as you set him down. “You wouldn’t get hurt so often.”

You pull out the first aid kit, and set to patching him up, removing layers of clothing to see the hurt beneath. He hardly winces, but his heart tugs.

“...You know I can't help myself.”

“You’re just one man, Dainsleif, there's too much for you to do on your own. And we both know this is about more than just your honor, or duty.”

“...Yet I am beginning to wonder,” he mumbles as you wipe away the blood. “Whether it has always been my fate to deny Fate.”

“What do you mean.”

You sound too upset for it to sound anything like a question. A demand, perhaps. He sighs. He is tired. So tired. He’s always been.

“Whether Fate is truly something we can overcome, or whether my rage is just a by-product of providence. If it was all preordained.” He shuts his eyes.

“The Gods that cursed us, the people and the nation I failed, my curse, my duty and obligation; I wonder if you too are foredoomed, just another predilection.”

“Is that why you do all this? To prove, what? Fate wrong?”

He doesn't answer, but he does open his eyes to see your mouth flatten. You continue patching him up, taking care of him, but he sees the way your eyes tremble.

“...Or perhaps just self-actualization?”  

“...I have an obligation to the world, and to you–”

“Don’t say that, don’t pretend that this is for me, this is not for me. You’ve been doing this long before I was a thought on the breeze.” Centuries wear down his memory, but the tug of your mouth and brow pulls at him like a drawn bow, piercing through the fog of his fatigue.

Your shoulders shake next. “So if I asked you to stop, would you?”

He doesn't answer, even when the tears spill from your eyes.

“I don't care for fate, destiny or whatever. I care about you. Keep your honor, keep your anger, but stay with me. Is that not enough?”

“....It’s for you, too.”

“...I don't appreciate being your excuse, Bough Keeper.”

Celestia always watches, but even he cannot help but utter a prayer to some unknown god, that their eyes do not fall on this wayward moment.

He is fine with cursing the stars, his fate, with breaking body; he is fine with letting the heavens bear witness to his rage.

But not his grief.

It settles, thick and cloying on his tongue. The sour tang drowns out everything else.

{III.HE WILL NOT CHOOSE YOU. WHEN DESTINY TUGS AT HIS CLOAK AND BIDS HIM LOOK, HE WILL TURN FROM YOU}

You know he wishes he never met you. That he never fell in love with you. You try to take it as a compliment.

You would give anything to remove the burden on his shoulders, if only he were not so adamant on carrying it. You do not see the reason why–you would rather love a coward than mourn a legend. You would rather he stays home with you, in your arms, than leave and come back, over and over and over and over again.

You know he wishes he never knew you.

Dainsleif, he holds you, works in the garden with you, bathes with you, loves you–but his hands are tense, and his eyes stray to the world outside your window. You at least know that when he is gone, that he leaves because he is thinking of you, that he cannot handle being perceived by you for too long; It renders him asunder.

“Like a predator, staring at the open carcass of my soul,” he once said. “You just make me feel so…”

‘So what?’ You had wanted to ask, but you had known better, didn't he just tell you? So you acquiesce, but on the inside you ache. You plead and you beg, and you don't let the words spill past your lips; You hold them in your chest and your eyes and watch him leave.

You trade chaste kisses for letters in your mailbox, blissful sighs for dandelion fluff on the wind. Your love is like a hot air balloon, you cannot keep him close but you can keep him tethered even as the rope frays and tears at your hands.

Welcome him back with them open, and settle for apologetic kisses on your knuckles, from your knight, for a ring on your finger. No god would hold your marriage sacred, anyways, despite your tears.

“And what knowledge have you gleaned from your travels this time, my love?” You smile. Please don’t leave me again.

“Nothing that I don’t already know dearest.” I’ll do anything. Just give me the word. Just give me the knife.

“Which is?” Why don't you ever ask me? You know I'll do it.

His eyes, so deep and somber. They know, but they don't answer. “Fate has foretold that I will return here, as always.”

“Of course.” And he will always leave. 

{IV. WHAT IS IT LIKE TO LOVE SOMEONE WHO IS ALWAYS RUNNING, ONE FOOT OUT THE DOOR? TIME DOES NOT SIT STILL, FOR NO ONE.}

Celestia is always watching.

Even here in this quiet moment, where the night holds vigil to the stars' homily, as they drag their forms past that pale corpse of a moon.

It's a still moment. He has removed you from his arms and you continue to sleep peacefully, your chest rising and falling, your heart the drum that starts off all his nights and days.

He is going to lose you, but before that he will lose himself.

Even now, he could feel the curse, like an ever burrowing parasIte, slowly consuming him. It replaces him. Eats away at him, fills him with rot, and he has the audacity to find solace in  your garden. You dig out the rot and replace it with something far kinder, but that doesn't stop the curse from growing.

He is like an inteyvat flower. Hardened and unable to wilt unless placed back in the soil of his home. You’ve decided to love a dying man, and stand vigil, always, at his never ending wake.

Sunshine from a past life. Peers who trusted him and stood at his side and back, carrying the weight of honor. He doesn't remember them, but he remembers the sunshine. He remembers how he failed them. He remembers only what he can and only knows what he should. And he knows this tale like the back of his hand, the curve of your cheek.

This was fated to end in tragedy.

You move in your sleep and he startles. You roll over, and Dainsleif waits until you settle, to breathe easy again.

He can not reconcile who he is with the man he was before he met you. He doesn’t wish to go back, but he muses on how much easier it would be. He could deny the Gods, defy Celestia, the Archons, even Heavenly principles, even Destiny. But he cannot choose to remain alongside you as well.

He mourns this indecisive fool you turned him into. He will not survive without you, but that is alright because it has to be. Not every story has a happy ending, but every story needs a narrator. He'll re-read your scripture and memorize your chapters for as long as you remain, and even after.

And he will remain long after you are gone.

{V. IF NO ONE HAS EVER TOLD YOU ABOUT YOUR FATE, I WILL BE THE FIRST}

The sunlight paints the fields honey and gold, and soon it will be time to return to your little cottage. There will be cherry wine waiting on the table, and some mending you still need to finish, but beyond that you take in this moment, drink it down greedily; an open bud unfurling like a fist to an open palm, demanding the world its due.

Your lover on the other hand does not share the same attitude. His head rests in your lap, but you feel the restless energy in him, and stay still in the hopes of encouraging him to do the same. It doesn’t work.

“Settle down, Dain.”

“I am calm.”

“No you’re not. You’re fidgeting.”

“...I’m afraid I’m going to have to leave soon.” Ah. As always.

“Then all the more reason to relax now, while we have the time.” He scoffs at that word, time. He rises to meet your eyes, and you smile at his mussed hair.

“I might be away longer than I usually am. I’m not sure how long I'll be away for.”

You crack a knuckle in anxiety. “But you’ll be back, of course?”

He only pauses for the slightest of breaths. “Of course. Will you still want me back?” Your face takes on an exasperated look, but he waves it away.

“Do you not get tired of waiting, always? Are you not tired of constantly grieving, of having to love this broken piece of tapestry?” You are shaking your head before he's finished.

“No. If you are torn I will mend you. If you’re just a piece of tapestry then I’ll stitch you onto something better.”

“Leave behind these metaphors and poetry. I would rather believe you pity me rather than actually love me.”

The words hit a chord deep inside you. It carves a gorge, and anger rushes in to fill it.

“So what? You would rather me love a stranger? Someone who would understand me less than you do?“ You stare him down.

“..If I must–”

“‘Must’? Well you don’t. And by whose order? Whose words? Is that truly something you would allow, or what you tell yourself you should let happen?” His face doesnt twist, but you know the tint of misery that spreads under his skin. It's blue-black, like a bruise, like the stretch of his right arm.

“No. You will truly be damned thrice over if you allow that. You are so content to let the world, to let fate, decide how things are and should be–I don't believe in that. My fate will be what I say it is, and I say you will be with me forevermore. If you must leave, then leave, but come back to me, don’t let go of me!”

“I am ruined,” A wave rustles the grass, like a crowd gone silent. “I am ruined, cursed, damned as you say. You do not want this. You should not want this.”

“I don't believe that, and you shouldn’t either. Who has told you this, has Celestia personally decreed your fate? Or do you continue to let tragedy be the narrator of your life?” You grasp his face, pull him closer to your eyes.

“I have you. I want you. And it is reciprocated, As long as that is, things will not change. I refuse anything else.”

His eyes go back and forth between yours, and he sighs.

“As long as I breathe, I will return to you. But that does not change the fact that this was never supposed to be. If not by destiny’s nature than my own; It is only a matter of time before this too, ends.” 

“Then forget what fate or destiny has told you. I am your fate, I am both your penance and redemption. If no one has ever told you about your fate then I shall be the first.”

Ans he is drawn, he listens like your words are rapture, like the first believer in the front pew of a sermon. So you smooth back his hair, and speak a prophecy.

“We will go home, and pick the tomatoes in the garden. They’re ripe now, and we’ll use them in our dinner. We’ll wash the dishes, unwind. Bathe. I’ll wash your hair and you’ll scrub my back. The sun should have set by then, so we can go to bed. As it gets darker I could read to you by candlelight, or, we could make love.”

“We’d need another bath, and to change the sheets then,” he mumbles, the slight pink hue high over his cheekbones.

“So would you rather we make love earlier? Or in the bath to save time?” You grin, and it draws soft breaths of laughter from your lover. You go on with your spiel.

“We’ll go to sleep together as always, and in the morning you’ll be baptised by the morning dew and the fresh brewed coffee. Much like today, you’ll laze in the fields with me, and when the time comes for you to leave, I'll give you my blessing, and my hopes as always, for you to come back to me.”

“So forget duty, when you are with me. If you are cursed I will be your balm. If there is rot in you I will scrape it out, and use it as fertilizer for my garden.“ He scoffs under his breath.

“You think this is a burden easy to unlade.”

“Yes, if you would only just let it. For by my decree, the Twilight sword shall be laid to rest in my presence, for I will be it's sheathe.” You only half jest and he looks at you quizzically.

“Did you just make an innuendo–”

“--And your words shall always be sweet, for my kisses shall honey your breath.” You kiss him to emphasize, or to quiet him, and he leans into you with a shudder, like a cat seeking affection, only something more desperate.

“If you care not for starlight, I will fasten you a crown of dandelions,” you continue. “And garb you in silks and sighs.”

“Fanciful daydreams,” He mutters, eyes closed. You trace the faint veins on his eyelids , violet blue in the dappled sunlight. 'Like crocuses.'

“Not when I’m with you,” you shake your head. “I’ll make them a reality, I swear. On all the love I have for you.”

He shakes his head in answer, a denial ready on his lips.

“The Twilight sword––”

“As I said– Shall be laid to rest in my presence.” You look at him as if to dare him to refute. He doesn’t.

You turn tender. You scot closer, practically in his lap now, if only to see his lashes flutter, pupils dilating.

“If you do not worship a god you may worship me, as I do you. That is your fate.”

“...Alright.” He sighs then, shakes his head, as to rid himself of the trance you put him under. He stands, and offers a hand to you.

“Alright then. Let your words be what I live by–I am yours, if you so say.”

You take his hand and head home.

[capriciouswriter207]

Bit more background for the beacon au: 

Once, the world was overrun by evil. The undead ambled out of the woods and strange creatures terrorized the world by day. The caves were even more dangerous, for the undead took shelter from the burning sun. If this threat was not stopped, the world could be overrun completely.

To build beacons - to cast enough light in the dark to keep the undead away, and to deter strange creatures from coming - was the only way to stop them. These beacons, however, were not easy to construct. A terrifying three-headed creature so old that even history doesn't remember its name had to be found and destroyed. Even then, its destruction has a terrible price that must be paid. 

A group of five adventurers took on the challenge. Though history knows their names, they are not freely used in their stories and the average person would not know them. The adventurers found and fought the ancient creature, tearing off all of its limbs and leaving only its spine and three heads, but it still lived. It was False who paid the price and got swept away by this withering creature. The others left with the limbs, never knowing what exactly happened to their good friend.

Out of these limbs, they could fashion small stars that could power the beacon bases they had already constructed. However, the activation of these beacons via these hand-crafted stars came with a cost: one sacrifice of what you held dear, to safeguard the future. When all was said and done, each made an appropriate sacrifice.

Zedaph sacrificed his goofiness. With one last smile on his face, he relinquished his goofiness, creativity, and inventiveness to ensure that his beacon would be lit and none would have to suffer ever again.

Impulse sacrificed his cunning. His wit and shrewdness were a fair price to pay to save the world, he believed. Though he would miss it, the world would be a safer place until the end of time because of it.

Tango sacrificed his mind. He created more guardians before he made the sacrifice, with the understanding that he may not be able to protect this beacon on his own once the sacrifice has been made.

Skizzleman sacrificed his company. He would forever give up the pleasantries of company, the knowledge that someone is near, the joys of having good conversations. He would be alone to the end of his days.

The beacons were lit, beams of light reaching into the sky and heralding a new age of peace and prosperity to the world. The adventurers are said to have survived these sacrifices, staying around the beacons to protect them as its guardians forevermore. Nobody has come close enough to any of the beacons to confirm, for the journey to the beacons themselves are rather treacherous and confusing. Though it is widely believed that these beacons would be lit until the end of the world, the smallest of rumors has it that the beacons can be undone by undoing the sacrifices the adventurers made. Since nobody thought this was even possible, the knowledge faded from the world.

But the beacons were undone anyway. The beams of light disappeared and the world was exposed to evil again.

[theonlymanintheskyisme]

Owned pt4

Smutty smut under the cut. Edging, possessive homelander, bruising, intense fucking.

You whimper desperately as another edge rolls over you, and you thrash desperately underneath him. It has been hours. Literal fucking hours, and you're struggling to cope with it.

Everything is sensitive. Your clit, your cunt, even the air on your nipples is almost too much.

His glove is soaked. His fingers have been everywhere. Buried deep in your cunt, teasing at your clit, and taken into your mouth.

You are his.

Close to tears, spread out on his bed, desperately humping the air.

It's a beautiful sight.

You don't even need to be bound.

His chin is soaked from where he's eaten you, your lower abdomen bruised from where he's used force to hold you in place.

‘Homelander. Please.’

You can barely get his name out, and it's fucking music to his ears. It sounds so beautiful. That tinge, that panic that's underlying. Because you know he could just up and go at any moment and there's not a thing you could do to stop him.

He could just strip himself off and masturbate onto your face, and leave you be.

He'd admit the thought was awfully tempting.

Slick, cool leather brushes over your most sensitive parts once more and you buck, only to feel his hand moving to your hip, holding you in place. You're close to tears, and one escapes as he brushes over again, and a third time, pulling back before it hits again.

He leans to your cheek and licks up the salty droplet.

Everything from your person is delightful.

Sits back. Starts to unfasten his pants. Everything throbs. Your cunt trying desperately to get friction from nothing. That ache inside longing to be filled, and you make the slightest desperate noise when he shows himself. Hard, thick, leaking.

He'd been denying himself all of this time, too. And it showed. He looked bigger than ever.

A whimper now when he presses the head to that aching spot.

‘I thought you wanted this.’

Another whimper. Desperate, needy, and he slams in deep. You know he's bruised you instantly, but it feels so good to be full of him you don't care.

Which is great, because he doesn't care either.

There's no hold up. No letting you adjust to his slightly harder size. He thrusts deep, and he thrusts hard. Moving down to look at you, gripping your jaw to keep your head focused and looking up at him as he fucks you into oblivion.

Your legs grip him, your hands are all over, and you beg, plead, you scream, you come.

Oh, you come.

It's what he's been waiting for. That beautiful way you scream his name with absolute pleasure. You can't handle it, him, but you can't handle not having him, either. He is the devil, you swear he is the devil in disguise, placed here on earth to do nothing but plague and torment you.

You don't care.

You'd sin forevermore if it meant you got to spend eternity in his arms.

He loses track of how many times you come by the time he's pumping you full, making you his all over again, knowing that you're going to be lying there, leaking it out, bruised and aching as a reminder of who you belong to.

He kisses your forehead as he holds himself deep, keeping you full. He's pretty sure you're passed out.

But it's okay. He'll take care of you.

[inviberu]

everlasting vows

Faced by the question and decision of swearing their devotion and love to you, what do they do? A promise that will bind them to you for eternity... Are they willing to go to such lengths for you?

Characters: Everyone (with the exception of riquet and mitile)

Note: I tried making everyone cute to the best of my abilities but some kind of just... slipped. Happy June Bride!

— Oz!

Oz pauses for a moment. He doesn't know what to say. He almost doesn't want to say anything in the moment after letting the thought sink into his mind. He was the most powerful wizard in the world—he already has enough weaknesses as it is with his injury and his love for Arthur but he already knew that you were one of them the moment he realised how helpless he was when it came to you. Asking him to promise you his unwavering loyalty and love was akin to making yourself a target for all his enemies to pounce on just to get a hold over him. He doesn't doubt his feelings for you. He knows that he'll be able to love you till the end of time and beyond but he wanted to make sure: are you certain? You kiss his doubts away gently and that's all he needed.

"Very well. If that is what you wish… I am yours for all eternity."

— Arthur!

He doesn't hesitate. Arthur treated you like his whole world; you were the most important thing to him and having him promise you such a thing brought him immense joy that it almost brings him to tears as he grasps your hands lovingly under the moonlight. He ran his thumb across the back of your palm gently and looked at you with a gaze so soft you could hardly believe that someone could love you this much. There was no one else present in this moment but you in his eyes as he lifted your hand and pressed his lips to your fingers.

"You don't need to ask. My heart has always been ready to love you forevermore."

— Cain!

He's surprised but his expression quickly broke into a huge smile. Sometimes, Cain acted as if he was human, forgetting that his words—his promises—held so much weight behind them. You thought this was one of those instances but Cain merely shook his head and gave you his reassurance. Human, wizard, unicorn, or whatever entity he might be—it doesn't matter to him. In every universe he's in with you, with every version of himself that might exist out there, he'll always take your hand and vow to you. Like a knight swearing that he's hopelessly devoted to you for life.

"I'll protect you. I promise this—I will never leave your side."

— Snow!

He didn't think you were serious the first time you asked him. He was sure you were doing it in the spur of the moment and got carried away by shallow desires that brought sadness to him when all he felt was pure unaltered love and desire to be by your side. He loved you, yes, but if you were asking him with even just a little smidge of doubt—he'll turn you away. He wanted you to be certain. Snow always liked living in certainty; for things to remain constant once he's committed. He doesn't bode well with change and if there's just a small part of you that doubted him, he gets scared. He doesn't want things with you to end terribly. He already experienced far too much grief and pain that change brought to him.

"I'll wait for you. Be it a hundred years or another thousand—I want to see that your feelings for me will not change. But know that I hold you closer to my heart than anyone else… That is the reason why I want to be certain. I do not wish for an unhappy ending for both of us."

— White!

He's overjoyed but it was difficult to miss the hint of bitterness in his expression and tone when he replies to you. He wants to—so badly; so desperately to the point that he felt his heart ache despite being dead. He's driven by his emotions but the weight of reality is heavy on his shoulders and he couldn't help but laugh bitterly. He is not the same man he once was. He felt like he's merely a shadow of himself. A fragment of himself that he can't even tell if it's truly him or not. He wants to—He can. But, are you prepared to accept him for everything he is as he stands? Even if this form of his is fleeting? If you are, then he'll take your hand and never let you go.

"If you're willing to have me for all that I am… I will respond to your feelings with much more fervour. Truly, I love you. I promise you nothing but my heart to be yours."

— Mithra!

Promises; Mithra knew not to make them. He thinks it's troublesome—an unnecessary risk and a waste of time. However, when you asked him, he couldn't help but wonder if this was the equivalent of what marriage was to Tiletta when she was alive. A promise to love someone forevermore… His feelings are not one to waver. His feelings aren't fickle. They were stubborn just as he is and he couldn't help but think to himself that maybe promising himself to you wasn't as bad as it sounds. However, he wanted to make sure that you'd do the same for him. He doesn't want to love so passionately and be responded to by a lukewarm romance. He'd take it if he was desperate but he wants—Northern wizards when they want are terrifying.

"Your unwavering devotion and love. I want it. It's only fair if you promise me that too."

— Owen!

He wanted to dodge the question and disappear into mist but his body couldn't move and he couldn't bring himself to bark out another insult or a snarky comment to mock you. It was a futile question but you asked him anyway, you knew that he would always turn away and try to deny himself of his feelings to protect himself from such a vulnerability. But seeing him hesitate this much made your breath hitch because that proved that there was a part of him that was considering it—that there was a part of him that wanted to swear his love to you, even if it's small. He thought for another minute and that's when it hit him. Why not bind you to himself instead? He wouldn't feel as vulnerable and your desire to be together for eternity will be fulfilled.

"What made you think I'd let myself be chained to you? Let's put it like this… Why don't I put a chain around your neck and bind you to me instead? Come on, promise me."

— Bradley!

He sputtered out incoherent noises for a moment and tried to make sure his ears weren't betraying him. The thought never occurred to him and thinking about it now was something he never thought he would do. Promising his eternal love for someone was heavy—far too heavy for someone like him who liked the feeling of being free. Though it wasn't like he wasn't considering it. He loved you. Dearly. Passionately. Desperately. But a promise can be lethal to a wizard and he's reckless—what if he messes up? What if they take you to have something to hold over his head? What if he puts you in danger? What if he loses his magic and both of you end up getting killed? He doesn't know. He doesn't wanna know. He gives you a ring wordlessly as he slips it into your finger. He'll do this much.

"This ain't what yer probably expectin' but… Take it. I don't want ya to feel like I'm just half-assin' my feelings for ya."

— Faust!

Faust freezes and for a moment he allows himself to hope; to dream of a future with you by his side. He stopped himself and brought himself back to reality and looked at you with a difficult expression. He wanted to but a part of him was afraid—coming to terms with his feelings for you was already difficult as it is but admitting that he wants to believe in something he feels like is out of his reach is something that makes him take a step back. His love was pure but uncertainty was something that stayed in his heart from years before.

"Please… Don't ask me such a difficult question next time. I cannot give you the answer I want to say."

— Nero!

It takes him a moment to process everything but once he did, he covered his face with his hands to try and cover the huge smile that took over his face. He was beyond happy—someone wanted to spend the rest of their life with him? The words may not be exact but he took them as words akin to a marriage proposal and all of a sudden he's left fantasising about what could be. A future with you… It doesn't sound so bad (he's ecstatic). He manages to face you with a calmer expression and gives you a smile.

"If you'll have me, I'd be glad to stay by your side. I'll stay for as long as you want me to—Actually, no, scratch that. You'll be stuck with me for the rest of your life."

— Heathcliff!

His first reaction was his embarrassment telling him to run away but the sincere look in your eyes made him stay in place as he looked at you with an expression just as sincere as yours. He didn't want to respond to your feelings and questions half-heartedly—he didn't want to hurt you. Though how could he ever hurt you when his heart was already set on loving you for the rest of his life? It was difficult for him to say his answer but with the way he took your hand and placed it on his chest, just over where his heart was, you already knew his answer without another word from his lips.

"Of course… I can no longer see myself not being by your side. I love you—that's a promise."

— Shino!

It didn't occur to him that it was a question you have to ask him. In his mind, it was already set to default. He didn't think that there was any need to ask. When he fell in love with you and when you accepted his heart, he already knew that he was bound to you for life. His love and devotion is yours for all time; his blade will have another purpose—to protect you. He just looked at you blankly and raised an eyebrow. All of a sudden the serious atmosphere between the two of you broke when he tilted his head.

"I thought that was already a given, though? No? Well, I'll say it for you if you want me to. My love, loyalty, and devotion… It's all yours forever."

— Shylock!

Shylock was no stranger to indulging selfish requests from all people but there was always a clear line he wouldn't cross unless it was for certain people. He yearned with all of his heart—desperately and passionately. Asking him such a question was akin to asking him to walk straight into his doom. He knew that promising himself to you for all eternity will bring him immense happiness; he'll get addicted. It was as if he was tasting the finest wine he's ever had for the first time. How will he bear to let you go if those unspoken promises finally come to fruition? He'll never let you go. Not even after death.

"Fufu… After hearing such a passionate declaration of love for me, how could I bring myself to refuse you? Prepare yourself—I won't hold back any longer."

— Murr!

His expression didn't change in the slightest. Or perhaps it did, a very miniscule one that escaped your eye. Murr was a mystery no one could solve; he was a constant unpredictable variable. Every word he said to you, every touch he left on your skin, and every kiss he gave you—they were all mysteries. Even his answer to your question was a mystery. Not because he gave you a confusing response as usual but because he was silent. He didn't say anything and just continued smiling at you. For a split moment, you don't know if his eyes were downcast or it was just your eyes playing tricks on you.

"Really, really? You want me? Haha! Maybe that's a love that isn't so fruitless~!"

— Rustica!

Devoted; Rustica was a man full of undying love and devotion. He searched for his missing brides for years without any qualms. There might be a few hiccups here and there but it was undeniable that when Rustica loves, he loves wholeheartedly. Loving you was like a melody he couldn't get enough of—everything he does seems to remind him of you and he thinks to himself: so this is what it feels like to be in love with you.

"I can already hear the bells ringing for both of us. It's a precious melody meant for us… Love suits us well, doesn't it?"

— Chloe!

Chloe wasn't fully aware of the heavy weight of a promise is to a wizard. But his love is pure and he loved innocently, all he knew is how he wanted to be with you and nothing else. And that was enough reason for him to respond to you with a smile on his face as he nodded enthusiastically. He knew this is what he wanted—with a wave of his hand, he'll create the perfect attire for the both of you for your ceremony. Oh? Was he being too hasty?

"Oh! I already know what we'd wear. You'd like a traditional white theme, right—Ah, wait! I never properly responded to you… Yes, a million times, yes! I love you!"

— Figaro!

He thought it was funny that you asked him, an elusive character, such a question. Tying him down to you with a promise of eternal love and unwavering devotion? He was hoping that your positions were switched where he's the one asking you that instead. He found himself unable to answer you as he ran a finger through his hair and let out a deep sigh. He avoided looking into your gaze but when his eyes finally wandered and saw yours, he felt a little bit of his resolve break—he felt like he was going crazy. Maybe he is going crazy. A smile crept up his face.

"Do you want me that much? It feels nice to be wanted… by you. Haha, I don't know anymore. Maybe I will. Take responsibility for me, okay?"

— Lennox!

He doesn't speak much but his actions said more than his words ever could. He knelt down on one knee as he took your hand and placed a kiss on your fingers. You know exactly what he meant and no trace of doubt was evident in your expression as your absolute trust and faith was placed on him. In turn, you raised his hand closer to your lips as well and kissed the back of his palm. You wanted him to know that you'd do the same for him.

"I love you, forever and always. You have my promise."

— Rutile!

He thinks of this moment as something that came out of a fairytale or a storybook he used to read to children. There was a time when he wondered if he'll ever have this kind of moment and he felt wonderful knowing it's you he was with when it happened. He let himself smile and broke into a fit of joyful laughter and giggles. The words you wanted to hear left his lips like honey you couldn't get enough of—one more time, you want to hear his answer once more.

"Nothing would make me happier… I treasure you, I really do. I'd make a thousand promises if it meant making you happy."

[i-did-not-mean-to]

Fairytale AU + Hair Brushing/Braiding

Ah, Elrond/Erestor...and a dash of fairytale vibes! Always a winning combo lol

Sorry for dragging all my blorbos into this LOOOOL

Prompts: Fairytale AU + Hair Brushing/Braiding

Pairing: Elrond x Erestor

Requester: @maglor-my-beloved

Words: 1 130

Warnings: Injury, trauma, doom, nudity, bath scene, Fëanorian Erestor

Once upon a time, in a faraway land that was yet free of the strife of this present day, two young souls sat by a peaceful river’s shore, braiding each other’s hair in a gesture of unmarred affection.

“I shall cherish your design forevermore,” Finwë, future patriarch of a fated line, whispered, and Elwë smiled knowingly.

Soon, though, they were torn apart by destiny.

Many cycles of silver and golden light later, Finwë found himself brushing the hair of his firstborn son—his heir, his cherished boy—and, inspired by the love he had lost, he wove an intricate, intimate pattern into that living silk.

Thus, a hallowed tradition was born on either side of the great divide. For generations, fathers would braid parts of their identity and their most unspeakable well-wishes into the hair of their progeny.

Often hidden but never undone, those tresses spoke of legacies and enduring faithfulness—they spanned ages, becoming ever more complex, and retold the story of a people ever on the brink of desolation.

So it was that, with heavy hearts and three skeletal hands, two notorious kinslayers thusly marked the blessed sons they’d stolen from their intended purpose.

It was with surprise and life-altering emotion that a stubborn, golden-haired princess and her dignified spouse discovered that, despite and beyond their differences, they shared this precious custom. Together, they created a new design for their daughter, interweaving strands that had been set apart by time and providence.

It was with tears in his eyes that a taciturn, irascible hermit looked upon the simple plait a ferocious mortal had put in their sleeping son’s hair.

“So he’ll never forget where he comes from,” Haleth whispered, kissing a burning cheek. “So he might find his people when both of us are gone.”

The one she loved so desperately without being able to save him frowned.

“One day,” she promised, “he’ll be able to trace back these strands of hair to the root of all love. The braid shall lead him home!”

Once upon another time, a valiant leader stood alone in the face of overwhelming evil. He was beaten down mercilessly, and—just as he had accepted that he’d never leave the battlefield alive—a warm hand settled on his hip.

“The day is lost,” a scratchy, breathless voice mumbled. “Come away now and live to fight another day.”

Too weak and injured to protest, Elrond Half-Elven let himself be carried away by Erestor who was stronger, faster, and much more cunning than he looked at first glance.

“I shall bathe you,” Erestor declared as soon as they had reached the camp, “and tend to your wounds.”

When Elrond tried to decline, overcome with a sudden sense of shame and panic, a resolute but tender finger was pressed against his lips like the prelude to a kiss the other didn’t yet feel comfortable dispensing.

“Hush! Your secrets are safe with me!”

Mollified and subdued by the severity of his injuries, the fearless lord mellowed into the caring embrace of his saviour who bore him to a small tent where a copper tub was already waiting to be used.

Servants brought in hot water and clean towels, and Elrond melted into a semi-conscious state of bliss, listening to the soft murmuring of the blurry shapes fading in and out of focus.

It had been many long years since he had last allowed another to gently peel muddied, blood-soaked fabric from his clammy skin, and the very recollection of those hands—drenched in crime and regret—made him sit up with a jolt.

“You must not…” he whispered hoarsely, but already, he could feel nimble fingers comb through the tangled strands of his sweat-matted hair. “I—”

Erestor’s affectionate ministrations slowed to a crawl as he found what his friend had so desperately tried to keep from him—in the face of such stark, unequivocal reluctance, he felt strangely shy and unwilling to cast his eyes down to look upon the discreet braid, burning like a string of hot metal against his palm.

Even though his mind shied away from an identity he had always suspected but never dared confirm, the sensitive tips of his long, sinuous digits deciphered unerringly what his heart might always have known.

“I recognise parts of this design,” he murmured pensively. A wave of heartsick longing threatened to drown him from the inside as he remembered his mother, brushing his hair and sharing all she had been able to learn about his father’s family with him.

Erestor also remembered his father—stern, often distant as if afraid that his mere touch could harm his child, and yet so discreetly and steadfastly loving—and he couldn’t help but wonder what had become of him.

“He thought I was too young to know,” he whispered as if to himself.

“Who? What do you mean?” Elrond articulated painstakingly. The soothing warmth of the herb-infused bath had washed away the last vestiges of his stubborn ferocity, and he felt worn out and dizzy.

With a soft, rueful chuckle, Erestor lifted the obscuring curtain of his dense, dark hair to reveal a gorgeously elaborate tress of his own.

“It is far from being as ornate as yours,” he conceded sheepishly. “Alas, I have fewer legacies to represent and keep alive, but…you are not alone.”

If he had thought that every layer of protection—armour, clothing, and the dignity of his station—had already been stripped from him and that he had nothing left to lose, Elrond now discovered that he had been sorely mistaken.

A weight he had not been fully aware of carrying fell from his soul, and—finally unburdened—his very heart seemed to draw breath for the first time in centuries.

“They have claimed you wholly then,” Erestor said, his voice becoming unsteady as he was shaken to the core by this revelation. At last, he allowed himself to look down and read the labyrinthine story of his dear love’s life, woven in glossy strands that felt more akin to a soothing river on a hot day than to the burning sun itself now.

“How do you know?” Elrond asked, too overcome to play coy.

“My father would only share so much, but—needled and encouraged by my mother’s faith—I have spent a lot of time seeking answers and documenting as much as I could about those lost to horrifying history.”

Spell-bound and stunned into startled silence, Elrond could merely stare at him.

“I shall not undo it,” Erestor promised as he took up his cherished task of carefully washing the abused, battered flesh once more. “Once we get you out of here and into a warm bed, I shall tell you about my findings. Welcome home, little star. You’re much loved still.”

@fellowshipofthefics Here's another one!

Lots of love from me!

-> 🌟Masterlist 🌟

[thegleamingmoon]

Thanks to @thatacademic Akka/Sakhi for encouraging me to write this otherwise this would've remained half-written for ages lol.

Here we go,my first ever fic on PS

****

His precious jewel

'Thodudaya sevian

Vidai eriya’

At the odd hour of midnight,the Kodumbalur princess gently hummed the tune of the thevaaram by Sambandhar. Which she once had dedicated to her precious prince.

‘Thoo Venmathi soodi

Kaadudaiya

Sudalai podi poosi

En ullam kava kalvan’

Melancholy filled her tunes as her thoughts travelled from Ilavarasar and Ilaiya Piratti to Poonguzhali and back to Ilavarasar and all the events that had transpired a few days before, filling her heart with sadness and more confusion.

“Ilavarasi”

A rich baritone male-voice called, breaking her chain of thoughts,as Vaanathi wondered about its familiarness until she looked up to find out it was very familiar indeed.

"What brings to the gardens at this odd hour of midnight,prince?”

The heart of the said prince, Arulmozhi broke a little as she chose to address him as someone distant, instead of being her usual chirpy self.

"I wanted to make some things clear,princess. He said,masking the emotions of hurt and concern behind his stern look.

The oath. Why did you take such an oath, Ilavarasi?" Without beating around the bush,he got straight to the point that had been bothering him quite a lot for the past few days.

“Why do you ask,prince?”

A sigh escaped from her lips as she chose not to look at the prince again and began to speak.

“I just declared what was there in my mind for a very long time. I could not bear the accusations that were hurled at me,rumours that were spread about me,about us. I could not find a better way to put an end to all that.”

“But I need not prove my love for you,Ilavarasae, for it has always been as vast and deep as the endless oceans. This life has taken almost everything away from me ,let it not take away my self-respect.”

Taking a deep breath,she continued.

“Ungal manathil enna irukiradhu endru puriyaamal ivalavu naatkal irundhuten. Inimel ippadi panna maten.”

( I could not understand the conflict of your mind,it will not happen hereafter )

Fighting back the tears that threatened to fall from her eyes,she started to go back to the palace when Arulmozhi held her hand,making her breath hitch and her feet stop in the tracks.

“En idhayathil yaar irukiradhu endru unakku theriyuma,Ilavarasi?”

( Do you know who's there in my heart, princess? )

“Huh?”

“Nee mattum thaan”

(Its you and only you)

Holding her hand with a firm grip he pulled her slightly close to him.

“Aamam Vaanathi! Naan unnai vaanalavuku nesikkiren. Naan seidha thavaragalai mannipaayaa? Ennai Mannipaayaa? Sol iniyavale,yennai thirumanam seivaaya?"

( Yes Vaanathi! My love for you is as infinite as the sky. Will you forgive me for my mistakes? Will you forgive me? Oh dearest,will you marry me? )

To say that the Kodumbalur princess was shocked yet overjoyed at this unexpected confession would be an understatement. Her eyes,like lotus petals met his and all she saw was only his pure love towards her. Pristine and devoted like hers.

“Sammadham,Yaanai Paagaa!” She exclaimed,laughing through her tears which made the heart and eyes of the said mahout overflow with sheer happiness.

“Be my queen,Vaanathi. Be my beloved queen who would rule my soul,who would rule me! Just stay with me always and forever.”

“Forevermore,beloved! May you never leave my heart.”

And with that the tearful princess,overwhelmed with whatever was going on,hid herself in the secure embrace of the prince who treasured her in his arms as if she was an invaluable jewel. Which she was,his precious jewel.

****

Tags : @vibishalakshman @thatacademic @thelekhikawrites @chiyaanvikram @ragalata @nspwriteups @whippersnappersbookworm @rang-lo

Thoughts??

[runner-owen]

Black Velvet Ch1 [Draft 1] Sample

[aka me staying accountable by proving I have in fact written today]

In my game with the Scarred Man, I was destined to lose, and no one, no prince, no priest, not the Goddess herself, would save me. I knew that. He did too. It's a very rare game that has no loser, after all. Even before I woke up within those black stone walls, he'd trapped me. In life and death and life again, I was his, forevermore. And all my battles merely stalled my doom.

That didn't stop me. It never has. Suffering may be the only guarantee in life, but I have, will always, hold onto my holy defiance between my graying fingers. 

In the darkness around me, I watched my hand through tear blurred eyes. My fingers curled, and the skin flaked off against my palm. The words tumbled from my still numb lips.

"Save us, oh Goddess. Save me from…"

Awareness crawled over me, slow as the rising moons. I frowned, lowered my arm. Save me? Save me from what?

My glasses were on, a blessing, for I'm half blind without them. Not that the darkness didn't leave me half blind on its own. I ran my hands over what I could reach. Soft heavy fabric, cool under my touch. The headboard, carved, with two large poles on either side of them. I twisted in my spot to get a better look. My vision swung, my stomach swayed. I dragged in a breath against the pain.

Despite the pain or maybe because of it, my mind fit the pieces together. Deep brown wood, dark green blankets, heavy curtains around me.

A bed like a vampire would use.

I tore the curtains open with one aching palm and threw myself to the floor. A woman's voice yelped. I could not see, the pain blinding my vision.

"Where is he?!" I shouted.

[viscerawrites]

operation get it right •/ a playlist

full playlist here // wip intro here

1. in the middle of it all - citizen

Sorrow; the celebration halts, the blinding lights are gone / Absent into the fog coming home / Maelstrom; my love for you is strong, absent into the fog / I succumb to your every want

2. feel the same - currents

I can't escape, fate starts to choke / I see your face and think of everything I went through on my own

3. choke - the warning

It's cold, but this is where I'll stay / Comfortably in pain / Wear your tears like jewelry / That vice is overpriced, but / Art is dead, it died with me

4. shelter (from the room below) - sleep token

You gather up all of my demons, you become starving / Darling, I'm noticing my flaws / And I'm matching them with yours / Won't you take me where you're going?

5. nightmare - the amity affliction

We breathe the same air and you are far too fucking young / To let the weight of the world destroy you / So one more night, breathe for me

6. without you - breaking benjamin

I wanted to forgive / I'm trying to forget / Don't leave me here again / I am with you forever, the end

7. lost - linkin park

I'm lost in these memories / Living behind my own illusion / Lost all my dignity / Living inside my own confusion / I try to keep this pain inside, but / I will never be alright

8. hollow tune - brick + martyr

My broken hands, my weary bones / I sit my words beside my throne / You're not alone

9. euclid - sleep token

By now, the night belongs to you / This bough has broken through / I must be someone new

10. massive - linkin park

I heard you screaming in my dreaming every night / I awaken, still mistaking you for right

11. take me back to eden - sleep token

And I don't know what has got its teeth in me / But I'm about to bite back in anger

12. burial plot - dayseeker

Effortless, the way you left me / Cut me open with your own two hands / Breathing is so difficult to comprehend / When the air I breathe is taken from me

13. constance - spiritbox

It's hard to lose and wonder why / I have been waiting my whole life / For pressure in increments

14. just pretend - bad omens

Weigh down on me / Stay 'til morning / Way down, would you say I'm worthy?

15. f.m.l. - the amity affliction

I am a sinking ship, I am the anchors deep / Set to the ocean floor in an eternal sleep

16. mother - before i turn

You took my eyes, so I can't see / You filled my lungs, so now I breathe / The dust and death beside your grave

17. are you really okay? - sleep token

And I / I cannot fix your wounds this time / But I / I don't believe you when you tell me you are fine / Please don't hurt yourself again

18. sleeptalk - dayseeker

Into the night, I drink and drive / Anything to help me let go, let go / You feel the pain, I feel the same / But we cannot repeat this cycle

19. the love you want - sleep token

I'll reach for you on faith alone / And I'm still full of the love you want / Still waking up, so below / And I'll be full of the love you want / No matter what, forevermore

20. my disguise - currents

I often think of the nights I stared into your eyes / And you would tell me what it's like to want to die

21. never again - breaking benjamin

Take the color from your eyes / I bleed for you, I bleed for you / Bring the broken back to life / We'll make it through, we'll make it through

22. burning out - bad omens

I was lost, but now I'm found / Under the lights and in the sounds / So let us sing and sing it loud / That we're not perfect, but we're proud of who we are