#theme: immortal

[honey-makes-mogai]

{ID PENDING}

Immortalancient -

A gender under the genderancient system that feels like an ancient immortal, or an immortal who's been around since ancient times!

[PT: Immortalancient -]

New Barista: Moths Terms!

For Day 1: Immortality / Time of @meadow-of-mogai-melodies 1000 follower event!

[Banner ID: A pastel yellow banner with a sunflower on either side. In brown text with a white outline, it says "- Please let me know if this has been coined before! -" /End ID.]

[DNI transcript: "-DNI- Basic criteria, anti-mogai, proshippers, ableists, aphobes, racists, zoophiles, rpf shippers, fandom discourse, under 13, transid/transx". /End transcript.]

[kotoku]

Hi, can I request an Aventurine with an Inmortal! s/o who's also non-binary plz 👀

You're free to reject it if u want, just giving u an idea... 😅

ᴀᴠᴇɴᴛᴜʀɪɴᴇ ᴡɪᴛʜ ᴀɴ ɪᴍᴍᴏʀᴛᴀʟ! ꜱ/ᴏ

pairings - aventurine x immortal! reader

content - reader is non-binary/ gender-neutral terms/ established relationship/ aventurine is in for a shock/ reincarnation themes

warnings - teeny angst towards the end

⋘ ʟᴏᴀᴅɪɴɢ... ⋙

↻ You probably wouldn’t have told him about your immortality, figuring that you could tell him when the time is right

↻ Turns out, that time is when you’ve been brutally wounded by an enemy, Aventurine nearly having a heart attack when you show up with multiple wounds and cuts that seemed life-threatening

“How are you..alive??”

“..Surprise..?”

↻ When you break the news to Aventurine, he doesn’t react at first, seemingly taking in everything you had explain 

↻ A part of him feels devastated, is he just a fleeting chapter in your book? A memory that would slowly be forgotten over time? But he also feels relieved, you couldn’t die so he didn’t have to worry about your death anytime soon

↻ Aventurine slowly comes to terms with your immortality, always inquiring about your past and what it’s like

↺ He’s probably curious about the healing process and the damage you take, asking about any experiences you had during battles where it took you a while to heal (the morbid curiosity this guy has…)

↻ If you’re in a battle with Aventurine, you’d probably throw yourself in front of him to defend him from any attacks if his shields aren’t up

↺ He hates your recklessness but also appreciates it

↻ You, as expected, stay the same as Aventurine continues to age, watching him slowly gain wrinkles and his hair fade away (if he doesn’t die to something else, of course)

↺ You’d be pretty devastated about him, mourning his death for a long, long time before suddenly, you see a familiar head of blond and magenta-cyan eyes

“..How– How can this be..?”

↻ If Aventurine were to be reincarnated, you’d be thrilled but also a bit sad, all the memories you shared together, reduced to nothing, as you stand before him as a stranger

“Do I..know you?”

↻ You could feel yourself breaking down all over again, mourning a person who was dead but alive before your eyes 

↺ You’d probably avoid interfering with his reincarnation, wanting fate to run its course

↺ And run its course it did

↻ The reincarnation of your past lover falls for you yet again, and it is only now that every person you have ever loved in the past, resembled Aventurine in some way (whether it was his blond hair, unique eyes, or personality, they all had something in common)

↻ In every life time of his, you were there

↻ You were eternally tied to his soul; soulmates

⋘ ᴄᴏᴍᴘʟᴇᴛᴇ! ⋙

[moonsinkfoxgirl]

honestly not sure why people are so into elves tbh, they're kind of mid

[stormingfrost]

Kinda obsessed with the historical context of Rise of the Guardians. Pitch wanting the Dark Ages to come back, which historically was the decline of culture and records. The Guardians rose at the same time as the Renaissance with the rise of culture, knowledge, and science. (Tooth in particular mentions that she hasn’t been out in the field for 440 years, give or take, which would put that smack dab in the middle of the Renaissance) 

The way Pitch doesn’t want the world to change, the way the Guardians change in tune with the world. The way Jack, who lived in has a human in the 17th or 18th century, who lived in the time after the Renaissance and lived witnessing the world all the way to the modern era, is there to show the Guardians how much they missed and how they can further change and improve for the more modern world. These characters are immortal beings who have so much power over the world, it makes so much sense that when they fall and rise in power it impacts the world that they want to influence, for better or for worse. 

[spacedustmantis]

thinking about if they got out

[neverswungonswingingstars]

Lestat in Season 1 of Interview with the Vampire

[threepandas]

Bad End: Cultivation

The rope creaked softly, suffering under the weight it was not meant to bear, as it stretched out, seemlingly endless into the mist. This had once been a bridge. The entrance to this lonely place. Humble as it was, the simple rope bridge had once stood for time immemorial. A path of safety above Soul Eater mists below.

Terrible creatures and unspeakable monsters dwelled down there. Things that devoured. Even the mists themselves, were said to drive men mad. Cause hallucinations and aggression. Qi draining in nature. It was like a living thing that digested you slowly.

Unless, of course, you could escape.

Or, it was said, if you were like the legendary immortal who had founded this temple. HE had apparently just walked. Refused the mist's their hold on him. Then climbed the cliff face to this mountain top. I somewhat doubted that tale. But then again, staring down at the rolling mists... it seemed impossible that ANYONE could have ever survived them.

The bridge creaked on, in the soft breeze. There were days it's groans sounded like the cries of a beast in pain. Tortured. When the wind rattled and dragged at what remained of its form. Trying to pull it from it's post. Down, down, down to it's final end.

There was a boot print. Terrible and damning. Cracked, IMPRINTED, deep into the base of the pillar that once held up one side. Far away, the bridge must surely still be stable. Both pillars standing tall, like gaurds. Like brothers. But here?

One powerful kick.

And the bridge had disappeared out from underneath all those that stood upon it.

Everyday... every day I come. Every day I look upon this bridge. Upon the boot, a terrible sin imprinted into stone, and I tell myself I do not recognize the size of it. That my suspicions are wrong. My instincts surely lying. Because... because if I do not?

What can I do? What could I POSSIBLY hope to do? If my suspicions WERE correct? If in this place, lives a monster? I am not stronger them him. Without him, I would be utterly alone. He has insured I am all but dependant on him. Not teaching me how to cook nor clean, farm nor fight. All practical skills are lessons for another day. Forever another day.

Yet...

Yet, I MUST know.

I torture myself with this. The wondering. The questions I do not not ask, for fear he will not even bother hiding behind lies. I stare at the old, long dried blood that stains where the bridge once ended. The shimmering heavenly gold. Somehow... some horrified, gut wrenched, SCREAMING instinct... knows it to be the blood of Tree Fruit.

It is the blood of the unborn. Those that will never get the chance, now. They... they were not even apart of anyone's body. Were wholly seperate, dependent and their protectors for survival. Were FRUIT for God's sake. Just as I had been. Souls reborn, not from flesh, but clean and new, from a Divine Tree. Ascendant from some other place.

I don't know WHY they were taken from the Tree. Why I was. My memory is spotty. It was too soon. I had not forgotten yet. Was not READY yet. It should have been safest to stay there. Be born into the world. Yet... they were on this bridge, instead. Attacked. The blood of infants stains the stones and will never wash clean. I can not... I was still FRUIT, then.

I can not REMEMBER.

And so I come. Again and again, before this rope. That stretchs out into the mists. Above far more terrible things. And try to recall. Make sense of it this terrible thing before me. This bridge. A long, worn, straining rope. With old, well-worn wooden planks, weathered by the ages, that... that hang like bodies.

Strung up in an endless row.

That whisper as they clack and groan with suffering in the wind, "A crime. A crime. Great evil was committed here!"

I tell myself... like a child hiding from monsters they KNOW are real. Trembling and blood soaked, terrified, as they crawl as far back into some small dark place as they can... I... I do not want to compare the boot print in that stone to Lei's. That they would be different sizes, even if I did.

I do not convince myself.

I never do.

"Shimei, this disciple wonderd where you were..." calls out a familiar voice. Deep in the way dangerous waters are deep. Smooth and placid at the surface. With something deadly I can not see, far, far below. "This one has found you at the bridge again. What captivates you so? You missed your morning snack. Should be on your way to early morning meditations."

My smile is more of a grimace, as I turn.

There are days... when forgetting is easy. When the tranquility of this place seeps itself into my bones. The comfort he deliberately arranges for me. The scheduled repetition. It is... trance-like.

Sitting with tea and snacks. Watching the early morning's sunlight dance off the distant mist. As birds wake and dew settles. The world hushed. Cup warm in my hand. Coat dropped over my shoulders. It is beautiful. The meditation garden is beautiful. EVERYTHING here is beautiful.

It is the fact that it is... empty, that bothers me.

This was not a temple built for two people. Remote as it must be in the world. The sect built this place for a reason. And each day that passes? I am more convinced that reason was to have a place to fall back too. The temple is lovely... but more then that? It is a FORTRESS.

Difficulty getting here is not even a fraction of the defens it holds.

So WHY?

WHY are there only two people here?

I nod, stepping towards my "shixong" as he insists I call him, dispite there being just the two of us. His hand reaching out to take my arm, guide me. I no longer need help navigating these halls. But he does not stop. Clings to his excuses to coddle and touch. It is a fight I can not win. I pick my battles. But, before his hand reaches my sleeve. Knife!

A throwing knife, shrieks near silent through the air as it cuts between us. Nearly removing Lei's fingers as it does. I jerk away, startled. He whips around towards the bridge.

"GET AWAY FROM THAT CHILD!"

The voice that roars that command has the distinct rasp of old age. Sure enough, a figure in flowing robes surges forward from the mist, running light as a feather across the single rope that remains of the bridge. Long white hair and beard. A wrinkled face, more accustomed to smiling, now turned into a fierce and determined scowl. The robes of a Grand Master.

There are a handful of warriors following him.

But the one that I can not look away from... it's... it's like looking through the lense of a half forgotten dream. Blurred by angles all wrong. But oh... oh how could I forget that face? The one that stares at me with such fierce and fearful determination?

...Shijie?

More then an older sister, less then a mother. Whisperd promises, muffled by liquid, from long ago. I know that face. KNEW it. It once smiled down at me, as I grew upon my branch, and promised we would be family. Loved me. Beautiful and patient, as she whispered about all the wonders of world.

I was...

Oh.

I was supposed to go with HER.

Be raised by HER. A little sister, a daughter, someone she could guide and grow with. My memories struggle to come together, but faced with familiar faces? They TRY. Especially as power begins to surge around me. Terrible and familiar. The beginnings of a fight.

Someone on my branch. Not my sister. Pale as morning mist and just as untouchable. He seemed lonely. I was lonely. Far from other Fruit, an awkward thing, high up, and on an old twisting branch. That had missed all nipping and cultivation by being accidentally hidden by the leaves surrounding it. The fruit was supposed to grow lower to the ground, where it could be watched. Safe.

But I happened anyway.

And I was alone.

No others to spend my time with. No disciples to come and care for me, day to day. So when the mist man came? I clumsily... reached out. Pat pat. There, there. I'm here, "dude". (I... can not remember what that word meant. But I know I knew it. It was friendly, I think.)

He was surprised to find me, up there.

I don't not think he told anyone.

I...I think he was supposed too?

But it did not matter in the end. Someone else found his hiding spot. Found me. There was much shouting and alarm. Elders, I think. Doctors, to insure I was well. Great relief, that I was a hardly little thing, developing as I should. After that? I had constant visitors. None that seemed very interesting... until... until my Shijie.

They were looking, I think, through interested parties for a match. Who would adopt me. Then there was softness. Sweet, golden days. The mist man visited. Anger from him? Not at me. Displeased. Covetous? I did not understand. Something wrong was growing but I was unborn... did not have a name yet for the sensation.

Just that is was...Dark.

Then it was night time. A beautiful moon through the branches. Smoke, black and terrifying. Screaming and the clash of swords. Unbearable heat, climbing and climbing. Lights blinking out. Dying? Were... were they dying? The great Tree, divine and holy, groaning in agony. Wood popping from heat. Splintering from blows.

Feet upon my branch. Running, running, running. Falling too their knees. Swordsman's hands. Bloody, wrong, not my shijie. Where is my shijie? Sister! SISTER?! I am being pulled. No. No, it is not time. It is too soon. The Fruit is not ready.

The hands do not care.

I am torn out by the roots.

Where the Tree should be... is nothing. I SCREAM. It hurts! A void. The ocean of life gone, gone, GONE! Already I am starving. Destabilizing. Dying again. Scared! Please! I am-!

A hand wraps around the raw nerves of my roots. They are wrong. I know them, but they are WRONG. Where is shijie? Sister... SISTER! Please!! Energy floods back in, as though it never stopped. But... but it is not clean. Like brackish water after so long in clear springs, I choke as I try to adjust.

Moving.

Running.

Where is the Divine Tree? I want to go home.

Others join. Burned. Bleeding. They have Fruit too. I have never been so close to others. They sound nervous too. Scared. But they have their family. Why do I not? There is some plan. A bridge that goes on and on. Below us are terrible things. They are talking? The end in sight.

"-viously you can't... -ep her, she's not your child. Y.. -eat thing protecting her th.. -ll be so relieved you have her child. N.. -all we have to... -ait out this..."

Something ugly is rising. Danger. DANGER. No, no, NO. STOP. Run! Bad thing is coming! I don't-! I can't-! Covetous, terrible, tar-like WRONG! Seeping up like festering! Stop it, stop it, STOP IT!!

The sound of a sword being drawn.

I am tucked close. Cradled like something precious. As a blade sings destruction through the air. A shocked and betrayed cry. Confusion. I can see horror on faces, feel terror from the other Fruit. Two of them are dead. CRUNCH. The bridge violently lists to the side, weight no longer equally supported.

Time seems to slow... as ancient metal slides free of stone.

Half those on the bridge are gone in an instant, as the floor swings out from below them like a trapdoor. Those that remain? Are the souls fast enough to grab the rail that still remains. The boards, as they fall. They hang above certain death, as their friends fall screaming in primal fear, to horrific death below.

How long can they hold on?

Especially with only one hand?

A few already lost their grip on their Fruit in the sudden shift. Can only stare in numb and mind blank horror, soul deep agony, as the bright little lights fall... and fall... and fall...

Inside my Fruit I SCREAM.

I do not remember after that. Only being born. It is a blur of trauma my mind must have refused to keep. D..Damn it. DAMN IT! I jerk away from Lei. I had known. I hadn't WANTED to know... but I had KNOWN.

The Grand Master attacks. His blade crashing like the might of a wrathful god against Lei's. Sending him sliding back. The master pressing his advantage, warriors rushing to fan out between the fighters and me.

Arms. Soft yet unimaginably powerful, the scent of tea and the medicinal flowers she proudly grew for the sect, I was pulled into an embrace. My head tucked against her neck. Arms bordering on too tight. As though I would disappear at any moment.

"Shimei.." my shijie whispered, a wounded sound. "This sister has you. We have come to rescue you. The traitor will never hurt you again. Come!"

This felt right. I nod. Follow her towards the bridge.

"Thief."

Lei's snarls. Never has there been an uglier, more venomous sound. One of the warriors, acting as a shield, dies preventing my sister from being speared through the heart from behind. Desperately, she scoops me up. Breaking into a sprint.

"Do you truely think you can take this one's Disciple from him? His WORLD!?" An unhinged laugh echoed along side the clash on blades. "There is NOWHERE you can hide her, that I will not find! She is MINE! Belongs with ME! You can run but there is NO WHERE you can hide!"

I cling to my sister as she jumps up on the rope, racing away from the gilded cage that was my only home. Over her shoulder, Lei is locked in combat. The ugly something I had always known was there, finally out in the air between us. Demonic energy spilled from him like radiation. Sickening and every bit as caustic. His eyes wild as they lock onto me.

"I'm going to BURN everything that gets in my way, my disciple." He croons, the grin spreading across his face a thing that will haunt me. "Just like before. NOTHING will keep you away from me. Nothing! I am going to hunt you down, drag you to ascension, then spend the rest of time making you MINE."

"And nothing will stop me, child. Not even you. Why?"

"Because I LOVE You."

[zairaalbereo]

🏳️‍🌈🏳️‍⚧️Happy Pride! 🏳️‍⚧️🏳️‍🌈

[cairafea]

houseki no kuni brainrot doodles. ichikawa please release the new chapter soon the hnk countdown twitter account is gonna run out of pages to attach to each tweet

[prahacat]

it’s spring, but all he wants to do is sleep

[honey-makes-mogai]

{ID PENDING}

Refeimmortalcomfic -

A gender related to finding comfort in being referred to as “Immortal”! Could be as a pet name, a name, a title, etc.

[PT: Refeimmortalcomfic -]

{ID PENDING}

Refemortalcomfic -

A gender related to finding comfort in being referred to as “Mortal”! Could be as a pet name, a name, a title, etc.

[PT: Refemortalcomfic -]

{ID PENDING}

[marsconer]

can we stop looking at everything percy and annabeth do through the percabeth lenses ? it’s starting to be detrimental to both of their characters.

[hellisntreal]

a power of peace and healing//your bones run strong

I spent a very long time trying to work out a Stone design and I'm still not settled! I'm sure like my other humanizations of Fallen London entities, I'll come up with a few <3

[epiphyllous]

gift of immortality (Malleus x Reader)

The potion of immortality has been made and Diasomnia rejoices over its discovery. No one is happier than Malleus, who upon the knowledge of the potion existing, presents it to you immediately. The last thing Malleus expects you to do is gently close his hand around the vial of immortality and shake your head. word count: ~2.4k  notes: malleus x reader, gender neutral reader “you,” established relationship, angst to fluff; hurt/comfort (it works out in the end), diasomnia dorm

.

For a fae, Malleus is much too aware of his lack of mortality. For as powerful as he may be, he will always be beat when it comes to facing the march of time. He is not affected by it-- not directly, anyways, but recently Malleus finds that he wishes that it did touch him the same way it does others, like it does you.

If it did, perhaps his fear of being left behind would not have such a hold on him when he thinks of you growing old. 

He tries not to think upon it too much. He already has so little time with you to lose any of it to the fear of something that is only inevitable. You have told him this very notion several times as gently as you could, so perhaps his fear is not so easily masked (perhaps just to you). And he is fine with it; accepts that things will be as they are, and that his life must be lived to the fullest with you here with him. 

This goes well for him until the time you get sick. And the fear comes back tenfold. 

(Malleus isn't sure what he would have done if he had lost you then, futilely holding onto your clammy hand as your breaths come out unevenly and labored. He isn't ready to lose you. Not then, not now, and now he isn't sure if he ever will be.)

Which is why when a potion of immortality is given to him on a silver platter, Malleus does not hesitate. With Sebek and Silver trailing after him, their congratulations interrupted by his abrupt exit, Malleus goes to find you sitting in the Diasomnia lounge with Lilia and announces the solution to all his problems.

"This is quite the miracle," Lilia says, blinking, "if it is what we believe. When did you request such a potion to be made, Malleus?"

Malleus avoids your searching look as he answers, "A few months, though I am also surprised by how quickly they have developed it, even with my help."

At this, Lilia perks up. "Well, if it truly is a potion of immortality, that is quite the discovery!" Malleus sees the fae gaze at the vial with a hint of longing, and Malleus hopes that his friend will forgive him for not giving him the first batch of the vial for what he assumes would be for his son. Yes, that would be quite the sight-- Silver, Sebek, and Lilia by his side as he rules over Briar Valley for eons on end like his grandmother. 

He looks to Sebek who is switching his attention between looking up at him and the vial in awe. And certainly, Sebek would be wanting the vial for his father as well, as much as he grouses about having a mortal father-- and if not for himself, then for his beloved mother or his siblings to have a father who will live with them throughout their lives. "This is a fantastic endeavor that you have set out to do, young master!" Sebek exclaims, "To possess the power to grant immortality-"

"Shh, now, now, Sebek," Lilia drawls with an indulgent smile. "Not too loud now, lest unsavory company hears of such a thing."

"A-Ah, yes, of course. My apologies..."

To the side, Silver looks on quietly, though even his gaze follows the vial in Malleus' hand as though entranced. 

Finally, he hears your voice then, but it is to teasingly berate Sebek for his loud voice than to comment on the potion that has captivated everyone else's attention. 

Malleus calls out to you, and he likes the way you turn to him immediately, laughter still in your eyes as you look at him. "What do you think of this?"

“About the potion?" You say, "I think it's nice. For those who want a longer life... I would say it's great. You can help a lot of people with it... or get paid a lot of money."

"Perhaps you belong in Octavinelle," Sebek mutters immediately, avoiding the swat you gave him for his comment. 

"It is what it is," you tell him, as you have told Malleus and others countless times before. "Immortality would definitely sell. It's dangerous, even. So I hope we're careful about who we give this to, if anyone."

"Yes, Malleus, that would be correct." Lilia says, looking at him carefully. "What did you intend to do with the first vial?"

The vial itself is not very large, as large as his pinky with a liquid that is deeply magenta. Malleus has yet to open it, but he wonders if you will be able to smell it and tell him what scent it holds. He walks to you and holds the vial out to you. "I want you to take it," he says, watching as your eyes widen. 

Malleus thinks of a life long-lived with you by his side. You who temper his anger and guide him to wisdom, you who know him better than he knows himself, you who he has told of all his hopes, dreams, and fears, you who he knows he wants to spend an eternity with (the road to realizing and accepting this was a long one, but he is here now)-- he gives you this vial of immortality.

The last thing he expects is for you to gently close his hand around the vial and shake your head.

"Please don't look at me like that," you say to him after looking away, and Malleus wonders what he must look like for you to tell him that. He thinks that it is a shame that the worst of his emotions are clear on his face at the worst of times. But he cannot quash the feeling of betrayal that comes up at your refusal. 

Perhaps it was foolish of him, but it did not once occur to him that you would ever deny the offer of immortality when others covet it so. When the sense of betrayal fades, it bleeds into disappointment and even the feeling of hurt, tinged with an indignant anger that consumes him like wildfire. 

Don't you want to live a life with him? Hasn't he told you about the loneliness of it all? Do you not understand the pain of being left behind, or do you simply not care?

You suddenly look up at him and snap with a voice just as brittle as he feels, and he realizes he must have spoken aloud. "Don't you dare say I don't care," you say. "How could you even say that?"

"Then take the potion," he says, and his voice is low when he sees you take a step back as though the vial were poison.

"This is a huge decision, Malleus," you say instead. "This isn't something a person does on a whim."

"Then you will think upon it and take the potion then?" Malleus presses, and when he sees the hesitation on your face, he knows you are only trying to placate him. "You will refuse me again when I offer even then, won't you?"

You stand before him with an unwavering resolve that he has always loved about you-- that he wants nothing more than to crush if it would make you see his way. "I'm not going to drink it, Malleus," you say warningly.

Malleus snaps, taking a step forward. "Then shall I make you drink this then, if you will not take it willingly?" 

"You wouldn't," you say, your voice trembling at the strength it takes to speak. "You wouldn't dare, and you know it." 

He wouldn't. He respects you too much to force something upon you, and it is a weakness he didn't expect to have until this moment. (You would never say it is a weakness, though.) Still, Malleus growls, eyes narrowing.

"If you make me drink it," you say resolutely, "then you will lose me."

"And if I do not," Malleus says, a fluttering sense of panic in his heart that he cannot control, "I will lose you anyway! Please.” You look up at him in surprise as he pleads, "Understand where I am coming from. What I am asking of you." 

"This is not something that I can do for you," you tell him, your voice breaking at the end. "No matter how much I love you."

Malleus swallows, hands gripped at his side, as he struggles to speak without his emotions holding him captive. He knows with certainty he has never experienced this predicament before, but loving you has shown him that his emotions can run deep and loyal. "You have never been afraid of me," he says, closing his eyes. "But I've found myself increasingly more afraid of losing you."

"Malleus-"

He says your name and you snap your mouth shut. Malleus thinks he would beg on his knees if you would like him to. Cut his hair, break his horns, leave him bare-- if only you would tell him 'yes.' A future in which you are not in it is beyond what he can imagine. Though there was once a time he was frightened by the love he felt for you, he can no longer remember how he has been able to live a life without it. Without you. "Please.”

He watches you as you step closer to him and take the vial in his hand. Instead of opening it, as you seem to want to lay eyes on it as little as possible, you hide it away in your other hand as you grasp his hand with yours. 

There is a silence, and Malleus watches as you shift where you stand, and it is only then that he vaguely remembers that they are not alone in the room. (Not that it matters to him-- not when he has always considered the three in the room akin to family.)

"Can I talk to Malleus alone for a bit?" You ask them, your eyes never leaving him for a moment.

It is telling in his kingsmen's trust of you that they do not question your request, Lilia quickly ushering the two out with a knowing look at you, and Sebek and Silver filing out with little complaint. (Sebek does mutter a little to himself though, but for him, that means a lot.) 

You take his hand and lead him to the couch, and he follows without a word, quieted by the emotional outburst that has left him wrung out.

"Malleus," you begin to say, rubbing his hand with your thumb comfortingly, "how do you feel about the time you've spent with me so far?" 

"I enjoyed it," he says immediately. "Very much so. Though we have not known each other for very long (in my eyes), it feels as though I have known you forever." Malleus takes your hand in his and squeezes it, liking the way you squeeze it back almost automatically. "My time with you has been worth living through," he says, and you smile; he feels himself lighten with just the sight of it.

"I think," you say, "that I have been very lucky to meet you where we are. At this time, at this age." You look at the wall of the dorm, lost in thought. "We could have not met at all." Malleus flinches at the thought of it. "Isn't that funny?"

"I would not go so far as to call it 'funny,'" Malleus mutters, and you laugh, quick as you are to find amusement in his fits of petulance. 

"Well, what I'm trying to say is getting to know each other is a miracle on its own." You tell him, your eyes meeting his, "You are my chance encounter, Malleus. I feel very lucky to have met you in this lifetime.”

"We could have more than a lifetime together," Malleus says. He eyes the vial in your other hand, and when you see his line of sight, you bring it to him, palm up. When he does not take it, you place it in the space between the two of you where it stays.

"I do not want immortality." You raise your free hands to cup his face, thumb brushing against his cheek tenderly, and he feels like falling apart. "I want to make this life of mine count. I know you don't understand that right now but..." You reach up to press a kiss to his forehead. "Maybe you will someday. But regardless, this is my choice, Malleus."

Malleus closes his eyes when he feels you press your lips onto his skin, your hands holding him as though he were a fragile gemstone. He reaches up to hold onto your wrist, your pulse a comforting beat against his fingers, and he thinks that love is oh-so-loathsome at the same time it is wonderous. To have known your love and touch but to also covet it and know what it would feel without it-- it is overwhelming. 

"I hate the knowledge," he says finally, "that you will one day go to a place where I cannot follow."

At this, he feels your hands curl into his face, and before he knows it, your lips are on his, pressing kisses into them as though it were your last chance. Malleus wastes no time in hesitating, returning your affection with as much fervor as you-- tilting his head and pressing forward until you are as close as can be, his hands grasping at your sides. 

"...Is this really okay?" You ask, your voice wavering with the presence of tears, more unsure that you've been in the past hour. You press your forehead to his, squeezing your eyes shut from the world. "If everything works out with us, beyond NRC, beyond... everything else with your royal status, my education... is it really okay that I stay with you?”

Malleus breathes out your name, feeling you shudder. He grasps onto your face gently and whispers to you, "A day, a week, a month, a year, a decade, a lifetime-- even if I cannot spend my entire life with you, I am yours for as long as you will have me."

"Till death do us part," he hears you say wetly, and he brushes a stray tear away from your cheek.

"'Till death do us part,'" he says back to you, like a promise, and the two of you hold each other as though protecting the other from the world.

The vial of immortality lay temporarily forgotten in the divot of the couch.

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taglist: @malleusmybelovedd @supernatural9000

[helpimstuckposting]

I like that TMA and TMAGP are so so similar, but also seem like foils of each other? Something about the big contemplation of a secret entity called Extinction in TMA, while the big thing in TMAGP is immortality just hits