#which eventually leads to her becoming friends with golden glow and the others

[emeraldstarlight]

Introducing Seafoam Serenade the shark pony 🦈🌊

[aziraphales-library]

Hi there! Sorry, I know this is a very specific request, but It’s been a bad few weeks body image wise, so I was wondering if you knew of any great body positive Aziraphale fics, preferably with not a lot of prior fatphobia ( like avoiding something where a majority of the fic focuses on Gabriel ridiculing Az’s body or anything like that). If you can’t find one that’s fine! I’ll be wary of the tags 😊 Thank you very much!

Hello! First off, I would highly recommend checking out the back catalogue of works by ineffablefool, 5ftjewishcactus, and Depressedstressedlemonzest as these authors consistently include fat Aziraphale and body positivity in their wonderful stories.

Here are some choice fics from them, as well as a few other body positive fics, all tagged and warned for, as appropriate...

Error 404: Crowley’s Brain Cell Not Found by ineffablefool (T)

The "information technology professional coworkers" human Ineffable Husbands AU which... someone needed, possibly. Aziraphale is very fat and very pretty, Crowley is a lovestruck disaster, and your author is an IT professional who has seen a lot in a surprisingly short amount of time.

Supposed to be my light (and keep me safe) by 5ftjewishcactus (G)

Following the not end of the world, Aziraphale and Crowley adjust to being on their side and being able to finally be together. One evening while curled together in the bookshop, Crowley realizes that Aziraphale glows. Aziraphale confesses that he's always been able to glow whenever he's happy, but he's usually hid it out of fear. Now that he's free to, Aziraphale begins glowing more around Crowley when they're alone. Crowley also finds ways to make his angel happy to encourage his happy glowing. Eventually, they both grow closer and Aziraphale becomes comfortable enough to show Crowley his golden stretch marks along his plump skin.

Angelic reflections by Depressedstressedlemonzest (NR)

Aziraphale studies his corporation while Crowley sleeps.

Angel in the Window by themaybedoctor (E)

Aziraphale has the best job a young bookworm could ever hope for—he works the evening shift at an independent bookshop, just a stone's throw away from Tadfield College, where he's only a few months away from getting his degree. He likes the location in Tadfield's cosy downtown, the friendly regulars, and his coworker, Newt. But most of all, he likes having the key to the biggest treasure trove of books he's ever seen. Aziraphale knows that he's not going to make friends sitting in the dark shop at night, alone with a book and some chocolate, but that's all right. He's not lonely while he has a book, which means he's hardly lonely at all. Really.

Crowley works at a record shop, and he's got the biggest crush on the cutie working at the bookshop next door. Whose name he doesn't even know, because he's too awkward to ask. At least nobody's noticed. If his co-worker Anathema found out, he'd never hear the end of it.

A story about bravery, misunderstandings, acceptance, and love.

The is Beauty by ShesAKillerQueen98 (G)

Aziraphale wants to get a short, tight skirt, because she thinks it'll make Crowley happy, but she only succeeds in making herself uncomfortable. Luckily Crowley is there to comfort her.

A Journey Into The Unknown (Which Shall Lead Us Ever Closer To Home) by BlackUnicorn (NR)

Anthony J. ‘just call me Crowley’ Crowley is…content – his little queer café in the heart of Soho, his son, his best friend, his snake. Aziraphale is…existing – day in, day out, in the same job, with the same people, and the same half-forgotten dreams. Going through the motions. Never would their paths have crossed if not for a boy, a teenager, really, running away to the city in search of something better. That’s how it starts, anyway…

- Mod D

[littletrash1027]

It was cold and dark, but it never gave any chills or gave the feeling like you were just in a black, empty room. It was just nothing, like a void, where no sounds or matter existed. However, there was one thing that made the emptiness feel like it was a separate, darker room. There was a faint light, glowing a far distance away from view, flickering as if it was soon to go out. It wasn’t overwhelming, but just there, waiting to be reached. It was strange, this weird limbo state of being between two worlds, like being between life and death. Was that what this is? Is this what death, or the aftermath of death, is? You hear about how, when you die, you see and eventually go into the light, seemingly a gateway to heaven. But shouldn’t you move towards it? It becomes more faint rather than lighter over time, and the feeling of sinking, or falling, surfaces. It’s almost as if...it feels like you don’t want to...die?

Lewis gasped and bolted upright, taking in long, shaky breaths, like he had never taken a breath in a long time. The air was cold and damp, which didn’t help ease the burning tightness in his chest. Adrenaline overwhelmed Lewis’ senses, making everything blur and create a dizzying confusion. He ran his fingers through his hair and shut his eyes tightly, trying to relax and regain his thoughts. It felt like he just had a nightmare, altough a part of him wasn’t so sure. Lewis opened his eyes, and was surprised to see him at the bottom of some cavern drenched in a thick, green fog. It took him a second to remember that him and the others were exploring this cave, but that was all he could recall so far. It was strange that Lewis didn’t feel that cold, or how the air didn’t feel that heavy, but he shrugged it off. He didn’t see any signs of anyone else being in the cave with him, which was weird considering that him and others weren’t that far away from each other. And wasn’t there a path leading down to where he was right now? If Lewis fell asleep down here, for some reason, wouldn’t the others have helped him to the van or been right there with him? “G...guys? Vivi? Are you still here?” Lewis called, his voice hoarse and echoed throughout the cavern. He held his arm to his side, and slowly stood up with shaky legs. His head turned and searched for any sign of any voice or familiar figure, but he saw nothing. He tried to call again. “Where are you?! This...this isn’t funny! Hello?” Lewis cried out, his slow pace quickening as he frantically searched around the cavern. Yet no reply came. Lewis suddenly felt his body freeze and jolt with a rush of energy. He stumbled back, placing a hand on his chest from the shock, but then paused. He couldn’t feel his heartbeat, or it was like it wasn’t there. Lewis looked down and saw a small, golden heart that flashed with light from every beat. Upon closer inspection, it looked like a locket than a normal heart. It was confusing, with it being in such pristine condition and how Lewis couldn’t feel his own heartbeat, like there was an empty hole in his chest.  “What the heck is going on?” Lewis whispered to himself, as he kneeled down and went to reach the locket. However, right before he was inches away from it, he noticed how his hand was black and had strange white “plates” on it.  “W-what-?” Lewis gasped, taking a second look at his hands, even more confusion and anxiety welling up in his chest. He looked down his body, and saw a large hole on the left side of his chest, where his heart should be. It didn’t take him long to connect the pieces, yet there was still one last piece missing.  Lewis reached for the locket and once he grabbed it, he saw his reflection in it’s golden brilliance. His face...his eyes were blacked out and tips of his hair were glowing and flickering lightly, like they were on fire. Lewis was surprised and his reaction was delayed. His head slowly lift on it’s own, like being pulled by a string, and what he saw confirmed his fears. He saw his old, cold body, stained by large amounts of crimson, and impaled with one of the cave’s spikes. Lewis broke with a mortified scream of horror that echoed throughout the cavern and dropped the heart from his hand. It made a piercing tink, like clanging a glass with a fork, and clattered on the ground. Tears poured from Lewis’ eyes, and didn’t even notice how they were not their normal color, but were instead black. His screams slowly died down into sobs, his emotions spiraling within him like a hurricane, and buried his face into his hands. Lewis noticed that his face was changing, being burned away by a light pink fire, and leaving just his skull. There was no pain, and that frightened him. He continued to cry, however, and felt his missing memories return, as if this sickening realization was what he needed. Lewis remembered him going with Arthur down one of the paths of the cave from the entrance. Arthur was anxious and almost everything frightened him, but Lewis at one point gave him encouragement, so they pressed on. They stopped at a ledge, Lewis taking a closer look at it’s deepness. He barely heard Arthur gasp, and before he knew it, Arthur pushed him down into the cavern with a malicious look in his eye. Lewis could barely hear anything else at that point from the ringing in his ears and the flooding sensation of suffocating pain and...and... “Wait...Arthur..what?” Everything freezed, almost as if time stood still at that sudden revelation. Lewis’ eyes were wide and tears continued to stream down, but every other part of his body was frozen. A few minutes passed before the shock passed and only questions festered afterwards. Why? Why would Arthur do that? Did Lewis do something wrong? They were friends, weren’t they? He didn’t understand any of this and he felt like sobbing all over again. That was, until a thought came to Lewis, a devilish voice said with malicious certainty. Arthur did this and left him here to rot, not even caring to let Vivi or anybody help his body out. He made them leave, and for Lewis to be forgotten. “N-no he wouldn’t...that...that BASTARD!” Lewis murmured, then slowly turned into a growl of rage. Lewis felt the fire return, forming on his skull, as if to mirror his burning anger. His hands moved away from his head, shaking from the shock and adrenaline, and his fingers curled into fists. Two pink pinpricks lit from his eyesockets, and seeped with a newfound hatred. “Arthur...you tried to kill me, but...” Lewis paused, but softly chuckled to himself, “You failed. And now, when I find you, I’m going to show you something to be FUCKING AFRAID OF!!” Lewis yelled in rage, the seeds of vengence fully planted.  Lewis’ attention shifted to the heart locket, still beating yet even brighter somehow. He picked it up and touched a finger on it’s surface, checking for any damage caused to it. However, it opened like any other locket, and showed a faint picture of Lewis and Vivi, him holding her close, and both smiling brightly. It was then that another thought occured to Lewis: What if Arthur tries to hurt Vivi? Or, what if he did this just to be with her?  The thought frightened Lewis, yet it also fueled his desire for revenge. He would find them, and protect her from Arthur. He wasn’t selfish, not anymore, for he has a true reason why he is still here.  Lewis placed the heart locket near the now newly closed hole, and walked down the path to leave the cavern. What he didn’t know was that something else was there, satified with the outcome of this ordeal. It’s eye glinted with malicious glee, now content to patiently wait until the perfect time that this misconstrued demise would fufill it’s full potential.

This took a while for me to do, cause I wasn’t sure if I wanted to do this piece or move on to the next. But I did it! Parts of this were inspired by a small headcanon and comic, so credit to those awesome ideas!

(This is a continuation of a previous drawing I made with another short story along with it: Part 1 , Part 2)

[prismartist]

Haul Away Jay

Fandom: Just Roll With It (Riptide)

Words: 3175

CW: implied/referenced character death

Relationships: Chip & Jay Ferin & Gillion Tidestrider

Summary: Jay is bored. Very, very bored. So, understandably, she tries to find a way to entertain herself.

She wasn't quite expecting the entertainment to come in the form of a song and dance, or that the other two would be roped into it.

None of them are complaining, though.

A/N: @tokencishetchip idk if you remember but you asked to be tagged for this a little while back !! here's the albatrio having fun with a sea shanty :D

Ao3

– – –

If there was anything that Jay Ferin knew as she leaned on the railing of the Albatross one peaceful day, watching the sun slowly set beyond the horizon, it’s that she was unmistakably, undoubtedly, incredibly, and painfully, bored.

Maybe it was the juxtaposition of the current situation to cursed islands, cursed casinos, or crewmates being dumbasses (well, that wasn't really a curse, but it sure felt like one sometimes), but standing on a boat in the middle of an endless calm sea under an endless calm sky wasn’t the most exciting event in the world.

Jay let out a sigh that floated out onto the indifferent blue water. She heard Gillion shout something from atop the crow’s nest, and Chip shouting back in turn as he walked down from the helm and started lighting the lamps. It was nice to see the two working in harmony.

Old man Earl was nowhere to be seen, probably in the kitchen making dinner and more orange juice. Jay was looking forward to that the most right now. She wasn’t sure if that’s a good or bad thing.

Well, she thought as she redirected her attention back to the ocean, if only they could find the adventure they all hoped for.

Her mind drifted in an attempt to entertain herself, going back to her days in the tavern. She had spent hours there working her butt off for loud, gruff soldiers, laying down in bed afterwards and thinking that her aching bones and five hours of sleep weren’t worth it. Over time she had learned to ignore the exhaustion, but compared to the adrenaline-inducing fights and rewarding victories she experienced now, Jay didn’t miss it.

Suddenly, a melody started to creep into her mind, a tune that she didn’t expect to hear in a long while. While tied to the memory of the tavern, the feeling the song settled in her is calm, comforting even. Jay closed her eyes, allowing herself to listen to it.

Apple sang serenely as she sat on the crow’s nest, and her chirps melded into the melody that Jay now recognized.

It was an old sea shanty, one that Jay often heard from the navy soldiers that frequented the tavern. She recalled memories of drunk men singing joyously, unprofessional in their performance, as if they were celebrating being freed from their ruthless job even for a night. Sometimes though, the way they would sing would come out soft and genuine as they sat in relative sobriety after a hard-fought battle, reflecting as the first few hours of the dawn crept up behind them and the orange rays shone on the mournful men. Jay would look on, almost in awe, unable to believe these were the same people who maimed and killed and imprisoned.

Jay hummed the beginning of the tune to the best of her abilities, and did not notice Chip cast a curious glance at her. She faltered as she lost the words, struggling to remember.

How did it go again…?

Oh. Right.

“Oh maiden, oh maiden, the love to I,” Jay sang softly. “I adore the shimmer, the shimmer, the shine in your eyes.”

She smiled and started to continue, but was cut off suddenly by the sound of Chip’s voice. Her eyes flew open and she turned in his direction, having half a mind to snap at him, but stopped upon realizing what exactly he was saying.

Or, rather, singing.

“It enamours, enamours, thy light to my life.” Chip was as surprised as Jay, eyes wide as he continued easily as if by instinct. His voice was surprisingly smooth and not all that bad. “Thy touch, carries, it carries, my soul to the sky.”

They stared at each other for a few moments, processing what had just happened.

Jay tilted her head, and spoke, “How do you-”

“I-it’s a song, I– the Black Rose Pirates used to sing it all the time.” Chip saw a small flash of a memory, of fireflies fluttering around in hanging terrariums, of voices chanting the same song as Chip joined in. He gestured a bit wildly, as if he was trying to swat away the image. “You?”

“I heard it in the tavern a lot.” Jay chuckled, a little in disbelief. “I guess it’s more popular than I thought.”

Chip vaguely remembered being lifted into the air by a laughing Arlind, teasing him for messing up a line, the golden glow overhead. “I guess so-”

“And my love! I swear in the sun and the rain!” The booming voice of Gillion Tidestrider rang down, causing Chip and Jay to look up and see the Triton slide down the pole, landing with a flourish. He straightened and completed the verse in a perfect baritone. “That someday, our hands will intertwine once again.”

Gillion grinned at the other two’s astonished faces. “That's an oversea song, is it not? My sister taught it to me. I much enjoy it as well.”

Chip turned to Jay. “So definitely more popular than you thought,” he said.

“Yeah,” Jay muttered, feeling a grin grow on her face. “A little different in some places, but yeah.”

She found herself tapping her fingers against the boat to the beat of the shanty and humming the post-verse interlude. Gill and Chip noticed as well, and their eyes trained on her, silently assigning her the role of the shantyman.

Jay tensed up upon noticing. She’s not used to performing, especially in front of an audience (could you call two people an audience?). It’s far from one of her strong suits.

But after a moment of contemplation, she eventually decided that, fuck it, it’s time to sing.

They started this ballad, they might as well finish it.

“Oh damsel, oh damsel, my heart belongs to thee.” Her voice cracked a bit on the high note, which Chip snickered at, but Jay merely shot him a dirty look and continued. “If you are troubled, so troubled, you must only call on me.”

“And though it rages, it rages, the condescending sea,” Chip joined in, his smirk slowly morphing into a genuine smile.

“For you I know my journey will succeed,” he finished, noticing Gillion’s voice join in. Chip glanced at him for a second before letting out a soft chuckle.

Jay started stomping on the boat to get the beat going. To her delight, Chip clapped rhythmically and Gillion followed both their suits. Energized, Jay hummed louder.

“And my love, I swear in the waves and whirlpools,” all three sang together, “Soon we will meet and once again become whole.”

With a laugh, Jay skipped closer to the center of the ship. She spun and gestured, mimicking the dances she had observed at Loffinlot, imagining a band accompanying her as she sang as loud as she could.

La, la la la, la la la, la la la.

Gillion was quick to join her, imitating her dance. His heavy boots threatened to break the wood they danced on, but Jay only cared for the lovely bass beat and snare they happened to offer. She grinned at him approvingly, and Gill grinned back.

Off to the side, Chip hung back, providing the main melody.

“Oh lover, oh lover, don’t you dare cry.” Jay reached out a hand to Gillion, who took it. “But laugh and laugh under the pristine blue sky.” She raised it and lead him in a spin. “And never, oh never, would I ever lie. I wish nothing more than for us to reunite!”

Gillion grabbed Jay by the waist, catching her off-guard, but as he lifted her into the air, she loosened up and cheered, feeling the song come to an end.

When she landed, Jay made a show of dusting herself off before bowing to Gillion. Gill, ever the gentleman, bowed back, and Jay giggled.

She looked over to Chip, leaning against the railing and watching with a rather deflated smile. Jay raised an eyebrow. That didn’t look right.

Absent-mindedly tapping his toes, no longer minding the beat, Chip stewed deep in his thoughts. Seeing his friends dance their hearts out was a nice scenario, don’t get him wrong, but despite the undeniable want to join in the festivities, there was a hesitance that Chip couldn’t quite get over. Maybe it’s the weird ache when he remembered voices that he’d never hear again. Maybe it’s because he didn’t want to interrupt the others’ joy. Who knew. Chip sure didn’t.

And Chip definitely didn’t know why the sight of Jay marching towards him made him panic.

“Hey,” Jay said, and Chip immediately heard the over-friendliness in her voice. “What’re you doing, moping in the corner? You said you and the Black Rose Pirates sang this all the time, right?” She leaned forward and locked eyes with Chip, who tensed up. “So, show us what you got.”

She daintily held out a hand, and with it, a challenge. “Dance with us.”

Chip’s eyes grew impossibly wide as his face flushed. “Oh, nah, nahh, that’s okay, I’m really not a dancer,” he stammered. “And you guys are already done with the song, so I really don’t-”

“Gill.” Jay smirked. “Take the beat.”

“Wha-”

“On it!” Gillion grinned with sharp teeth and began to stomp and clap again. He hummed deeply, the tune once again emanating through the ship.

“Jay,” Chip begged, taking a step back. “I don-”

“Nope, round two, coward!”

“Ja-AAAAY!”

Chip yelped as Jay grabbed his arm and dragged him to the newly appointed dance floor, guiding his kicking and screaming form into one of dance. She took one of Chip’s hands and held it up, putting her other hand on his shoulder. “Your free hand on my waist,” she reminded him, ignoring his confused sputtering. “And one, two, three, go.”

She lead the dance in a sort of wild, messy foxtrot, stretching their clasped hands in the direction they move in, side skipping energetically. Chip stumbled at first, caught off-guard, but he quickly adjusted to her same pace, glancing at the ground to make sure he was keeping up. Seeing his face relax and the corners of his mouth quirk up, Jay smiled at him encouragingly.

“Sing, shantyman, it’s your turn,” she said.

Chip’s expression turned into horror once again, gulping as he scrambled to remember the words in time for the melody.

“O-oh maiden, oh maiden, the love to I,” sang Chip.

“I adore the shimmer, the shimmer, the shine in thy eyes,” he and Jay sang together.

“It enamours, enamours, thy light to my li-IIFE, JAY!” Chip screamed as Jay gave him a spin, laughing at his surprised shriek. “Jay, don’t just spin me without warning!”

“You’re being sloppy, shantyman,” Jay teased. “Keep up with the song.”

Chip glared, but continued nonetheless, “And my love, I swear in the sun and the rain.”

Jay gave him another spin, but this time, Chip didn't miss a beat. He gave Jay a smug, triumphant look. Jay raised an eyebrow in turn, admittedly impressed.

“That someday, our hands will intertwine once again!”

“Alright, nice,” Jay complimented, grinning widely.

Chip caught a mischievous glint in her eye, and his face consequently fell.

“One more spin, pretty boy!”

Before he could protest, Jay suddenly spun Chip away with a greater force than before, and the world around him became a blur, the air swirling with the sound of Jay’s devilish voice.

“Gillion,” he heard her yell, “catch!”

And Chip is spun into the arms of Gillion, who beamed at Chip’s very red face.

“Come, Chip.” Gill took both of Chip’s hands. Chip, still trying to recover from the jarring switch of partners, only blinked down at their now clasped fingers. “It is our turn.”

“Oh my god.” Chip laughed nervously.

Stomp, stomp, stomp, stomp.

“Oh damsel, oh damsel, my heart belongs to thee,” Jay belted as Chip and Gillion figured out their dance. “If you’re troubled, oh so troubled, you must only call on me.”

The other two started to push and pull in tandem, reminiscent of a cha-cha with a bit more energy and spins thrown in every once in a while. They surprisingly guided each other with more harmony and grace than Jay expected.

“And though it rages, it rages, the condescending sea.” Gillion leapt and circled with Chip, almost lifting the latter off the ground. “Just for thou I know that my journey shall succeed!”

“Gill, calm down!” Chip chuckled, partly in amusement and partly in fear, as he started to lose his footing.

Jay looked on, not ignorant to the warm fuzzy feeling in her chest, the beat pulsing along with the adrenaline in her veins.

“And my love, I swear in the waves and whirlpools, soon we will meet and once again become whole.”

Soon she joined them, whooping as she jogged, and they welcomed her with wide smiles, one pair of hands separating to reach out. Jay took the offer to form an interconnected circle, spinning and bobbing as they shared the melody. They sang, as loud as they could, filling the air with a joyful energy.

“Oh lover, oh lover, don’t you dare cry,” Chip started.

The others joined in. “But laugh and laugh under the pristine blue sky.”

And laugh they did, the pure euphoria of indulging in fond memories emitting from them. They stumbled and laughed through mistakes, put their all into the performance, harmonising wonderfully.

Jay caught Pretzel doing somersaults in her globe and Apple circling the crew, chirping the tune with them. She’s reminded of a joking conversation about starting a band. Perhaps they had a chance after all, she thought amusedly. Gillion and the Tidestriders. Chip and the Bastards. Jay and the Dumbass Bluebirds. Whatever you wanted to call it.

Now, though, they were simply three friends, holding hands and dancing, rattling the wood of the ship without a care, singing a sea shanty that they all happened to know.

The stars slowly flooded the darkening sky and twinkled at them like they were dancing along.

To one, the fresh air, the touch of familiar calloused hands that had fought alongside her, and the spray of the ocean was a welcoming contrast to past memories of stuffy spaces and dispassionate work. To another, though the memory was a bit painful, it still brought him the same comforting feeling from years ago, sharing laughter and celebration in a tight kinship that was expected in that of crewmates, deepening the bond with experiences that were not just in battle, but in recreation. And to another still, it was a reminder of a time when he was desperate to learn the oversea culture, and that he still remained ever so curious now as he learned its differences and similarities to his world, forming relationships with its inhabitants, people who were perhaps not as cruel as the elders had suggested.

Those who share such joyous experiences with others must not be that selfish, after all.

“And never, oh never, would I ever lie. I wish nothing more than for us to re-u-nite!”

Jay grinned up at the sky as they hummed the outro melody, a gust of wind sweeping down on them and carrying their voices away, out onto the shimmering waters.

La, la la la, la la la, la la la…

A tug from Jay led the trio up in one final leap, whooping and cheering with the others as they followed. And once their feet landed simultaneously with a bang, the song ended.

As the rush receded from her mind, the pumping blood in her ears quieting down, Jay took in the sound of the waves crashing up against the ship and her heaving breaths. She looked up at the now star-filled sky, wondering when it got so dark. She allowed her hand to slip from her friends’ grasps, moving to lean on bended knee. Jay heard the other two breathing quite heavily as well, and even a plop as Chip seemed to collapse out of the corner of her eye. She followed suit, sprawling onto the wood and closing her eyes, catching her breath. Jay wasn’t extremely tired, but she needed to recuperate.

“Oh god, you kids just had to make a racket up here, didn’t ya?”

Jay breathed out a chuckle upon hearing the raspy voice. “Hi Earl.”

“We were partying, Old man Earl!” Gillion said preppily, unsurprisingly not as out of breath as the others.

“Earl, you got…” A huff from Chip. “You got orange juice? Perhaps? Please?”

“Hmph, you’re fuckin lucky I do.”

Tired cheers chimed from the pirates.

“But you have to go down to get it with dinner. Chop chop.”

“Ohh, come onnnnn,” Chip whined, joining in with the groans of Jay.

“I’ve seen you work, you’re not that tired,” Earl scoffed. “Maybe you shouldn’t have wasted all your energy on destroying the ship! And your vocal chords.”

“Hey, I don’t think we sounded that bad,” Jay said.

“Whatever, just come down and have dinner, I’m definitely not hefting everything up here.” Earl barked out a laugh and proceeded to go back down, ignoring the cries of Jay and Chip.

Soon Gillion’s face popped into Jay’s view. “Are you alright, Jay?” He glanced over. “Chip?”

“I’m coming around,” Jay assured. She stretched her arms up, making grabby hands. “Pull me up?”

Gillion complied, grabbing her arms and lifting her, though at a faster-than-preferred pace. Jay let out a yelp as she got back on her feet before stretching with a groan.

“Thanks, Gill.”

“Hey Giiiilll? Big man? Can I go next?”

Jay looked to Chip, who also had outstretched arms. Gillion walked to him and helped him up as well.

“Thanks, buddy.” Chip patted Gill on the back.

“No problem. Honestly, I did not think you would tire out so easily.”

“Well we need to gain back our energy, then,” Jay said, starting to follow Old man Earl.

“Hey, uh, Jay, um.” Chip caught her attention, and she turned back to see him with a raised hand. He moved it to scratch the back of his neck sheepishly. “That was… that was fun.”

“I agree,” Gillion said with a nod. “I was reminded of some… rather fond memories, actually. And it was a good exercise. We should do it more.”

“Yeah, yeah actually, same. I agree.” Chip looked up at Jay, his face rather tentative. “So, thanks for that, I guess.”

Jay smiled. “You’re welcome, dweeb,” she jabbed. “You’re being more affectionate than usual, but I appreciate it.”

“Hey, don’t call me a dweeb!” Chip’s expression morphed into one of offense. “I just thanked you, that’s so insensitive of you. That’s actually insensitive.”

“I let you fulfill your showman dreams, you’re the one being insensitive right now.”

“Showman- hey, I actually like the sound of that.”

“Yeah you would, you drama queen.”

“You’re calling me dramatic? Have you seen Gill?”

The sound of bickering paired with Gillion’s oblivious chimes trailed below the deck, leaving a fond memory to the glittering dark waters and the twinkling stars still dancing along.

[sweetheart-sunghoon]

BEOMGYU IMAGINE ࿐ ࿔:･ﾟ*

contains: fluff, angst, happy ending, fem!reader

word count: 3.7k

summary: you’re forced into a marriage with beomgyu, the son of hades

this wasn’t what he wanted. this wasn’t how he wanted it to happen. when beomgyu had told his father he liked you a lot and wish he could date you, this isn’t what he meant. but really, what else would you expect from a man who got his wife in the exact same ways. damn hades and his impulsive and irrational ways. 

beomgyu paces around persephone’s garden, walking up and down the dark stone paths past pomegranate trees with orange blossoms, deep green bushes, poisonous shrubs and glowing mushrooms. like the cloudy mahogany sky above him, there is a gloom over his mind. groaning and tugging at his hair, beomgyu tries to figure out what to say to you. 

“y/n, i’m so sorry. i swear i didn’t ask hades to do this. my dad… he’s… he’s a bit… he’s a bit…” beomgyu groans and flops onto the wide edge of a fountain that spews a blood-like liquid rather than water. “this is hopeless. y/n, i’m so so so so sorry.”

“it’s okay.”

beomgyu jumps at your sombre voice. his heart flutters. there you are, looking solemn yet as beautiful as ever. you’re dressed in your usual bright colours and there’s a flower behind your ear, but you don’t look like you usually do. you look dreary and tired and… honestly? half dead. and beomgyu would know. not only does he live in the underworld, where you currently are, for a quarter of the year, his demigod powers include sensing the life auras of other’s. yours is surrounded by a layer of death.  

usually, you look like a beautiful spring flower in full bloom, but right now beomgyu thinks you look like a wilted flower, dying a slow death. your cheeks are hollow, your skin is losing its glow and colour, dark lines circle your eyes. 

“y/n,” beomgyu says. he’s surprised to see you here. ever since his father dragged you down here you’d been locked in your room, avoiding everyone. “y/n, i’m so sorry.”

you shrug weakly. “i know this wasn’t your intention.”

“i’ve tried to persuade my dad to let you go but… he doesn’t like being told what to do. his temper is… extreme. but i’ll keep trying. i’m so sorry.”

shrugging again, you sit on a nearby marble bench, your shoulders hunching forward like your spine is struggling to hold you up. 

beomgyu feels his heart break at how little energy you have. that’s the effect the underworld has on outsiders. it reacts much like an immune system when a foreign bacteria or disease enters the body. because the underworld is a place for the dead, it sucks the energy out of the living which it does not know, those not from it or tied to those from it. 

beomgyu sinks back to his seat on the fountain. “have you eaten?”

“no.”

it might sound weird to others, but beomgyu’s glad you haven’t. eating from the underworld means you cannot leave. 

“i doubt you’ve been sleeping well,” beomgyu then says. 

as if having your literal life force drained from you and not being to eat wasn’t enough, the constant tortured screams echoing out from tartarus can be hard to block out at night. 

you shake your head. 

beomgyu watches as the flower behind your ear dislodges and floats to the ground, shrivelling to dust when it touches the ashy ground. 

you see it too, an ironic smile forming. “this really is the land of the dead, isn’t it?” one strained laugh leaves your lips. “you know, the longer i’m here, the more i feel like i’m becoming like everyone else hear. dead.”

beomgyu’s breath hitches. he can’t stand this. 

❀⊱┄┄┄┄┄┄┄┄┄┄┄

the next night, beomgyu knocks on your bedroom door and calls your name, praying you’ll let him in. he had persuaded a hermes child he knows to deliver some ambrosia to the gates of hell. beomgyu hoped the food of the gods, known to heal and recover, would help you regain your energy. 

beomgyu is surprised when you open the door, even if it’s only a crack. 

“yes,” comes your tired voice through the small gap you’d opened. 

“i have some ambrosia for you,” beomgyu says. “i doubt it’ll do much but hopefully you’ll feel a little better.”

you open the door fully for beomgyu and walk back to your bed. you hold in the sigh of relief when you sit down. you’re so drained and lacking in energy that just walking making you feel nauseous. 

you observe beomgyu as he steps in and shuts the door behind him. even now, late in the evening, he wears a sleek black suit jacket and dress pants. he doesn’t wear a tie. his fingers are adorned with silver rings matching the silver chain you see peeking behind the colour of his button-down shirt. maybe if you weren’t so miserable you’d find him attractive. you always did at camp, particularly after he’d spar with his friends and push his jet black hair off his forehead. 

“can i sit?” beomgyu asks, gesturing to the spot beside you. 

you nod.

beomgyu perches on the edge of the bed next to you, leaving some space because as much as he likes you, he doubts you like him right now. 

“there’s not a lot but…” beomgyu hands you the small paper box. there are nine cubes of golden ambrosia inside. 

“thank you,” you say. your voice is weak and it hurts beomgyu to hear it. 

“i’m sorry,” he says again. 

“it’s okay,” you reply, popping a cube of ambrosia into your mouth. “there’s nothing we can do about it now.”

for what feels like the hundredth time, beomgyu’s heart breaks and he whispers, “i’m sorry.”

and for the first time since you arrived here four days ago, you look beomgyu in the eyes. you see for the first time that he’s hurting too. there’s a sadness in his eyes you’ve rarely seen before. the sadness one feels when someone they care for is hurt. 

slowly, you lean your head against his shoulder. beomgyu flinches from shock but stays still. the two of you stay like this for a while until beomgyu helps you under the covers and you fall asleep, your last thought being that while you’d rather be a million other places than this, there are worse people to be forced to marry. 

❀⊱┄┄┄┄┄┄┄┄┄┄┄

the next day, beomgyu finds you in the garden. you look a little better. you’re admiring some black lily flowers and beomgyu is suddenly reminded of your parentage. 

“i’m sure your mother is absolutely furious with my father right now,” beomgyu says, startling you a little. “he’s stolen two of her children now.”

“bold of you to assume she wasn’t already,” you say, eyes still on the lilies. 

“right, yes.”

“demeter is a very bitter woman, you know,” you continue. you turn and slowly make your way to a nearby tree with low hanging branches. it’s a pomegranate tree. 

beomgyu watches you silently. he’s happy you’ve recovered a little, though you aren’t nearly as joyful as you are above ground. 

“do you see her often?” you ask suddenly, running a hand down the trunk of the tree. “persephone?”

“no,” beomgyu answers, making his way towards you and the tree. he walks with his hands behind his back. “we have… conflicting schedules, you could say. i leave for camp during the summer. when i return she is here but not for long as she leaves just before spring and is gone all season so that the harvests will be successful.”

you nod in understanding. 

beomgyu stands just beyond the reach of the tree branches. “have you met her?”

“no. we are only half-sisters. plus she’s here mostly.”

“that is true.”

“is she nice?” you ask, a question that you have considered a number of times. 

beomgyu kicks at the ground absentmindedly. “yes. she’s kind to me. though, i think my father’s temper has rubbed off on her after all this time. she can be surprisingly fierce.”

nodding to show you’re listening, you put both of your hands against the tree and focus your power into it. 

“she treats me well. like a son, i suppose. she asks me about camp and my friends, she jokes that she only leaves during spring to make sure i get fed.” beomgyu smiles. “she’s really kind and polite and gentle and loving.“ 

beomgyu looks at you. your eyebrows are pulled together in concentration. he’s seen you use your powers like this at camp before. you can heal plants and prompt them to produce flowers or fruit. a fond smile tugs at his lips. "like you.”

your eyes open, landing immediately on beomgyu. his widen, shocked, realising his words. he turns away from you to hide his blush and clears his throat loudly. he wasn’t intending to make any a move of any sort of you, thinking it wrong to flirt with you when your marriage is forced. 

but you find it amusing that the compliment just slipped out. and you appreciate it. you can see the tips of his ears burning red. 

deciding to return to your room, you reach up to the pomegranate you had used your powers to produce and tug it from its branch of the tree. stepping up to beomgyu and tapping his shoulder, you place the red fruit in his hand and walk away. 

❀⊱┄┄┄┄┄┄┄┄┄┄┄

yours and beomgyu’s wedding is not for another week. in the days leading up, you spend a lot of time together, the ambrosia he brought slowly healing you more and more. you find yourself able to laugh again. perhaps you even find yourself growing to like beomgyu. 

you knew him well enough at camp half blood but mainly through mutual friends. after a week of getting to know him more, you wonder why you weren’t closer before. though, the screams from tartarus at night remind you that the whole son of hades thing likely formed a negative bias against him in your mind.

but that bias dissipates over time. you see that he’s just a boy trying to enjoy life. he didn’t ask to be a demigod, and he certainly didn’t ask for his godly parent to be the king of the underworld. this detail almost completely slips your mind until three days until your wedding when you ask beomgyu what it’s like beyond the garden walls. 

he’s reluctant to take you outside at first but eventually does. 

“um, you should probably hold my hand,” he stutters. “it’s easy to get lost out here and there’s a lot of dangerous things.”

you glance at his hand. he’s wearing an odd piece of hand jewellery. thick rings around his fingers are connected to a matching bracelet at his wrist by thin chains. the black metal is a stark contrast to his pale skin.

your staring turns beomgyu’s ears pink and he’s quick to say, “y-you can just hold my jacket if you want.”

“no, no,” you say, taking his hand in yours. you’re not entirely surprised by how icy his hand is. “it’s okay." 

honestly, you didn’t even realise you were staring at his hands so much. 

you walk for about an hour around the dry land, the hazy red sky growing darker and darker the further from hades castle you are. you talk about many things. the topic of powers and abilities comes up. 

"so what are your powers?” you ask beomgyu who is beginning to look antsy. 

“if we stay out here any longer, you might find out,” he mumbles, his voice low. 

“what do you mean?” you ask. 

“we should turn back,” beomgyu tells you, his eyes narrowing as he glances around. “something’s not right. i can feel the dead nearby.”

“this is the underworld, beomgyu. everyone is dead.”

“yes, but they’re too close. something’s not right. let’s go.”

you frown but nod and let beomgyu pull you back in the direction of hades’ palace. you’re halfway there when a piercing screech sounds from above. a strong force suddenly knocks you into beomgyu and a sharp pain seers on your arm. a shocked exclaim jumps past your lips as you find three large gashes on your arm, blood pouring down. 

“y/n,” beomgyu gasps, his arms catching you around your waist. he sees the blood too and his jaw clenches. he spots the cause of your injury just in time to pull you closer, out of its field of attack. 

your heart rate doubles. “w-what-what-”

“a fury,” beomgyu growls, manoeuvring you behind his back. 

holding your arm to stop the bleeding, you peek over his shoulder and see the ugly bat-winged monster circling back to your direction. it flies at full speed, baring its huge yellow fangs. 

“stop!” beomgyu commands, his voice strong, deep and demanding. 

to your surprise, the creature does, halting in mid-air, growling at beomgyu. it is now you recall just how powerful beomgyu must be. being a child of the big three (zeus, poseidon and hades) makes him indefinitely stronger and more powerful than the average demigod. even if hades wasn’t one of the big three, the kind of power he possesses is terrifying. the thought of beomgyu sharing some of those abilities…

beomgyu glares at the fury. “leave now before i banish you back to tartarus.”

the fury snarls. 

“leave!” beomgyu yells, loud enough to make you flinch. he feels your movement and reaches back to grip your hand reassuringly. 

with one last snarl, the fury flies away. beomgyu spins to you the moment it’s out of sight, his demeanour flipping as he cradles your arm in his hands. 

“are you okay?” he asks quickly. 

“not really,” you admit, shaking a little. 

beomgyu inspects the large scratches and winces. “it’s too big for me to heal.”

he can heal? you think. it’s an odd concept considering he’s the son of death. 

beomgyu stretches out his hand and makes an upward motion. a dark and opaque wall rises from the ground. he pulls you towards it. “let’s go.”

“wait, what is this?” you question. 

he turns his head to you, the hint of a smirk on his lips. “shadow travel.”

❀⊱┄┄┄┄┄┄┄┄┄┄┄

the night before your wedding, beomgyu knocks on your door to check on you as he didn’t see you today. he was visiting a friend because, while you are stuck here, beomgyu is free to come and go as he likes. 

“how are you feeling?” beomgyu asks, sitting at the end of the bed. for once, he isn’t dressed up, instead donning a black plain tee and pair of sweatpants. 

“i’m okay,” you tell him. 

“that’s good.” he fiddles with the bed cover, avoiding your eyes. “i’m sorry.”

“it’s fine,” you say. “i can’t expect you to follow me around all day every day. you should see your friends too.”

“that’s not what i meant,” beomgyu says, his dark eyes taking on the sorrowful look he gets when he thinks you’re not looking. “although i’m sorry for that too now." 

he takes a deep breath. "i meant that i was sorry for this. all of this. for my father dragging you down here. for our forced marriage. for making you unhappy, sick, lonely. i’m sorry for everything.”

“beomgyu… beomgyu look at me.”

he hesitantly meets your gaze and you see a tear sliding down his cheek. 

“oh, beomgyu,” you sigh, leaning forward to wipe away the tear. “stop apologising.”

“but it’s true,” he says, his voice becoming rough and strained. “i know you don’t like it here. you don’t want to marry me. you’ve only been eating ambrosia for the past week but you still look half dead. you can’t even sleep at night. you-” his voice catches and he shakes his head, looking down. 

you grab his hand and squeeze gently. “but it’ll get better once we’re married, right? i’ll have my energy back, i’ll be able to eat and sleep.”

“yes but that doesn’t change the fact that you don’t want this marriage,” beomgyu says. “i don’t want this marriage. i never asked for this, it was all my stupid father.”

“okay, you’re right,” you say. “i don’t want the marriage. but because i’m young, i’m unprepared, i have no say in it. i know you think i hate you but i don’t.”

beomgyu looks up again. 

“i may hate the circumstances but i don’t hate you,” you say honestly. “at first, i did resent you, but i realised that this really isn’t your fault and that i shouldn’t hold your father’s actions against you.” you squeeze his hand again. “it’s not your fault. i don’t hate you. stop feeling sorry for me, okay? i’m fine, really.”

beomgyu nods. “okay.”

he’s silent, thinking, contemplating, processing. 

you too have some thoughts on your mind. one thought actually. something that you’ve wanted to ask beomgyu the past few nights but never have, feeling too foolish. but seeing as you’ll be married to him tomorrow, you don’t see the harm in asking now. 

“beomgyu,” you say quietly. 

“yeah?”

“w-will you… will you please stay with me tonight?” you ask. 

beomgyu’s ears flush bright red, the colour you’ve come to associate with his bashful and shy side. 

“i think it’ll be easy to sleep if you do,” you continue. “will you?”

beomgyu needs a second to process your question but he eventually splutters, “yes.”

folding the blanket back for him, you shuffle over and lie down. beomgyu cautiously slides in beside you. he looks so stiff and awkward, it makes you smile a little. 

“lie down,” you tell him and he does. 

you take the initiative and cuddle up to him first, slotting yourself under his arm as you lay your head on his chest. immediately, you feel one hundred times better than you have all week. you feel safe and as though you can now breathe easy. 

beomgyu finally relaxes, his arm looping around your shoulder, his hand slowly brushing over your hair. 

the noises that usually keep you up at night fade away and sleep takes over. for the first time in almost two weeks, you have a good nights rest. 

❀⊱┄┄┄┄┄┄┄┄┄┄┄

when you wake in the morning, beomgyu is gone and a gorgeous women with long, flower adorned hair is carrying in a long black dress. 

“you’re awake!” she says. “great. i’m persephone. i’ve heard you’re my half sister. it’s lovely to meet you. now let’s get you ready. you’re getting married today.”

you barely have time to process any of what the goddess has said before your being stuffed into the ebony gown. the silk body somehow fits you perfectly and the lace sleeves are the exact length of your arms. 

the next half an hour is a blur as persephone styles your hair with a flower crown of red and white roses, clasps a chunky bejewelled choker around your neck and swipes red gloss on your lips and dark glitter on your eyes. 

and suddenly you’re standing at the entrance of a large grecian temple with black marble pillars. beomgyu is standing at the other end of the temple on a raised platform. a… skeleton?… is standing near him, a large book in it’s bony hands. as you start walking towards beomgyu you vaguely wonder if you’re really about to be married by a skeleton.  

to your right and left are rows of skeletons, odd creatures and the odd person who seems to be relatively alive. hades and persephone are in the front row. 

the ceremony passes by in a flash. beomgyu holds your hands softly as the skeleton addresses the crowd of undead. he looks at you with more adoration than you knew was possible, but he never smiles. you slip gothic black rings onto each others fingers. he kisses your cheek. then the wedding is done. 

afterwards, you and beomgyu take a walk in the garden again. 

“how do you feel?” beomgyu asks you after a minute of silence. 

“good,” you say, heading to a pomegranate tree. 

“you look good,” beomgyu replies. 

you smile over your shoulder at him. “thank you.”

“really,” he says. his eyes rake up your body. “not just the dress and everything, but your whole aura. you look alive again.”

you reach the tree and pick the closest fruit. “i suppose i’m allowed to eat this now, right?”

“if you’d like.”

“will you eat it with me?”

“okay.”

you find a bench to sit on. beomgyu picks a rock from the ground and, using a power you didn’t know he possessed, he transforms its shape to be sharp and pointed. he cuts the fruit with it and you eat in silence. you have to admit that it feels nice to be eating something other than ambrosia. 

once the fruit is gone, you scoot a little closer to beomgyu and put your hand on his knee. 

“you don’t seem happy, beomgyu,” you say. “what’s wrong?”

he sighs. “i don’t know. it’s just… i like you a lot. even more now then i did when i told my father about you. but i… i can’t be happy when you’re not.”

“who says i’m not happy.”

“well aren’t you?”

“i’m… unsure… i think i need some more time to fully process everything, but it could be worse.”

beomgyu scoffs quietly. “how could it be worse?”

“i might not be married to you.”

beomgyu almost flinches at your words, eyes going wide. “what?”

“like i said, i’m still a little conflicted but one thing that i’m certain about is my feelings for you.”

“and?”

you smile. “i like you.”

“r-really?" 

"really. throughout this all, you’ve been so kind and gentle. you haven’t pressured me and you’ve made me feel as comfortable as possible. i really appreciate it and i can’t say that i haven’t grown to like you.”

amusingly, your words render beomgyu speechless so you add, “plus, being married to the son of hades is a bit of an ego boost, if i’m being honest.”

said son of hades smiles. 

“you know, i’m pretty sure you didn’t kiss me properly earlier.”

“i didn’t think you’d want me to,” beomgyu admits sheepishly. 

“well, i do, so…”

his smile turns to a cheeky grin as he cups your face in his hands. “may i kiss the bride?”

you grin too. “you may.”

[oncexinxmyxdreams]

OC Profile

Alejandra Cordova (Encanto.)

Bio

Name: Alejandra Graciela Salazar Cordova. (Alejandra Reyes as an alias.) Nickname is Allie.

Age: 30. People think she looks to be late teens-early 20s which kind of bothers her.

Ethnicity: Colombian.

Species: Human.

Height: 5"1'. She'd be just an inch shorter than Mirabel's canon height.

Weight: 115 pounds.

Hair color: Dark brown.

Hair style: Usually in a loose braid which has free hairs flowing around her ears. Hair is naturally curly mid-back and no bangs. Type 2B curls.

Eye color: Jade green like her mother.

Birthday: May 24th 1920.

Gender: Female.

Sexual Orientation: Its not the main point of her story, but she's asexual. She wouldn't mind a romantic relationship though.

Powers (if any): Hmm...shall I tell? OK. She does gain the gift of Pyrokinesis. She can create and control fire. She has the benefit of not getting cold easily and have fire immunity. She can't be harmed even by breathing smoke or ash. To handle the gift it takes discipline. If Alejandra's emotions are overwhelming the fire is uncontrollable. In that case, Alejandra's eyes glow golden-orange. Considering this poor gal is dealing with anxiety and grief it's going to be a challenge.

She does have the weakness that if her hands get wet, she can't make fire. Sometimes she gets too warm easily and that's what leads her to wearing light pajamas and clothes in a lighter fabric. Her symbol would be flames.

Distinguishing features (if any): Looks like her mother. The round face, small sized nose, full lips and arched eyebrows. Very faint freckles across her nose. She inherited her father's smile and shape of nose. Petite rectangle figure with toned arms and long, strong fingers due to her job. Skin tone like Luisa.

Blood Type: A+

Clothing

Day to day outfit: Sea green dress with scalloped neckline and sleeves. A lighter green petticoat. Dress has pockets for her mice, but has a narrow one they can't hide in. Dark brown alpargatas with a beaded design along top hem. If she had a power, her symbol would go around the hemline of her skirt in a lighter shade.

Pajamas/What they wear to bed: Plain white nightgown with her best attempt at embroidering a mouse design along the hemline. Eventually has one in lighter material with cut sleeves due to her gift.

Formal Clothes: Had a light pink Quinceanera dress and one formal dress that's yellow. She wore it to her father and stepmother's wedding. She'd like a new one someday in her favorite color.

Work/School uniform: Wears dark brown trousers, a simple shirt and a leather apron for glassblowing. Will wear boots though they're not her preferred shoes. (Based off of the Luisa concept art where she had pants.)

Other (glasses, jewelry, etc): She made all the jewelry she owns. Hoop earrings fully covered with green seed beads. Simple wooden brown bead necklace. Keeps a rosary from her friend Benecio in the narrow pocket of her dress or pants.

Health

Physical Illnesses: N/A.

Mental Illnesses or disorders: Anxiety disorder.

Medications?: None.

Addictions (Drugs, alcohol?): No.

General Health: Physically she's healthy enough. Mentally, she's struggling.

Life/Preferences:

Likes: Dancing, horseback riding, hiking, rainfall, watching a sunrise and playing with her mice.

Dislikes: Nosey people, arrogance and her father leaving. She especially dislikes seeing Francisca suffer from migraines and wishes her twin had it better. The one thing Alejandra dislikes most of all is having meltdowns to the point she's hyperventilating.

Career: Glassblower which has also become a hobby.

Hobbies/Talents: Jewelry making. She enjoys making trinkets out of glass and colorful stones like lampshades, windchimes and mobiles.

Habits (good or bad): Fiddles with her hands often and touches her left arm when nervous.

Family: Twin sister Francisca. They're 20 minutes apart since Alejandra was breech. Her deceased mother Mercedes and father Pablo Salazar. She doesn't know the maternal side of her family well and doesn't get along with the paternal side anymore.

Friends: Ramon Sandoval. A shy, but kind young man who lives nearby. Benecio. An older priest who helped her find work and some peace after her father's second marriage. Benecio sadly died in a case of protecting Alejandra in which she blames herself. Gets along well with her coworkers and boss Velasco.

Romantic/Love Interest(s): Other than an innocent crush as a kid, none at the moment.

Pets: Alejandra's horse, a dark brown Paso Fino breed, named Acosta. She bought him while on a trip along the Colombian coast. Three mice: Violetta (grey). Yareli (white) and Rodrigo (brown.) She calls the mice her babies.

Social Status: Middle class.

Favorite Food: Empanadas. Her favorite drink is Chocolate Santafereño (hot chocolate with a hunk of melted white cheese.)

Favorite Color: Sea green. It's her favorite with glass colors.

Favorite genre of music: Vallenato.

Favorite movie genre: She'd like adventure/fantasy movies.

Favorite Animal: She loves lots of animals, but she especially loves mice. She would rescue them from traps and set them free.

Degree of Education: Normal education.

What language(s) can they speak?: Spanish and English. She tried learning another language Francisca can speak but couldn't keep up.

Can they cook?: She's a decent cook.

Positive Traits: Friendly, warm, caring, creative and quiet.

Negative Traits: Easily stressed, disorganized, low self-esteem and a little bitter towards her step/half family.

Archetype: The Orphan like Oliver Twist, Luke Skywalker or Simba.  

Way they interact with others: Friendly and sociable until she's tired. She doesn't give all the details about herself if she can help it.

Way of speaking: Voice inspiration for her is Sofia Carson.

Introvert or Extrovert?: Introvert. MBTI would be ISFP.

Backstory

Alejandra was a sweet and shy little girl being the opposite of Francisca. They were still close and remain that way as adults. They've had challenges, but the biggest was at 13 when their parents separated. Though it was amicable, Alejandra was conflicted. Later, she felt betrayed when Pablo remarried less than a year later. Her stepmother wasn't mean to her, and Pablo said he still cared for his twins, but that didn't help. She eventually had a meltdown at the wedding. When Alejandra found out she had a baby half-sister (and more siblings) she was angry. It felt like being replaced. The fact that Pablo didn't offer help when Mercedes died was more salt in the wound. Losing her friend Benecio added more weight to her soul. Everyone she cared for either abandoned her or died. So it's just Alejandra, Francisca and they're little group of animals.

Life Goals

Alejandra would like to feel peaceful again. Just have some peace about herself and her family. Maybe even feel parental affection again since she misses it. Oddly enough, she may find it in Encanto and through a particular seer.

[twinkleton]

ok but what if... a spin off of your douxie x reader where we get the details on how douxie proposed 👀

Ask and ye shall receive! This takes place a year after my At the End of the Century fic, I’m considering call this series just Married!Douxie since any fics I do with this universe they will be married. I didn’t imagine them living in the castle anymore without Merlin, and I just wanted some cottagecore lmao. And yes, reader invents cat trees 😂. Hope you guys enjoy!

Tags: @clarencebells @purplesinnerw

“Archie, could you come over here?” 

The familiar pokes his head up from his proclaimed resting spot, a basket generally used for berry-picking, and lets out a big yawn. 

“I’m afraid I can’t, you’ve sucked all the energy out from me already,” he mumbles, plopping his head back down. Archie and the young witch had spent the morning organizing their belongings into their new home. As a show of gratitude and solidarity for the small family, the trolls of Dwoza had been building them a little cottage in the forest for the past year, between walking distance of their land and Camelot. They graciously accepted the gift.

“Please, just for a minute! Then you can continue your lounging,” Y/N pleaded from her and Douxie’s bedroom. Archie makes a low groan and rolls out of his makeshift bed, slowly making his way over to her.

“I swear if you ask me to fly over to a shelf you can’t reach one more time, I will-” His sentence stops short once he enters the room, eyes wide. Unbeknownst to him, while he was taking his little cat nap, the girl had been spending her time crafting up a tower for him, with all sorts of levels for him to climb, at the top of it being a cozy bed for him, made out of fabric she’d stolen from the castle. Old habits die hard. However, it was worth it for Y/N to see the look on her friend’s face. 

“Is..is this for me?” Archie climbs up to the first level. 

“Well I don’t see any other cat familiars lying around,” she replies with a smirk. 

“Always so cheeky,” he says with a chuckle. His nose slightly wiggled, detecting a fishy odor coming from the top. 

“Oh, you didn’t.”

“Oh, I so did.”

He swiftly leaps to the highest level, eyes gleaming with delight as his suspicions to what was there were confirmed. Y/N, being the angel in his eyes that she is, had prepared roasted salmon for him. How she somehow was able to hide all of this from him, he’ll never know. 

“Do-do you like it?” Y/N asked sheepishly.

Suddenly, there’s weight on her chest, as Archie had flown over to her, trapping her into a bear hug that she quickly reciprocated. 

“I don’t understand, why did you do all of this for me?”

She laid her hand onto his head, gently stroking, “I don’t need a reason, Arch. You’re my friend, we've been through a lot. You deserve this.”

If it was in Archie’s nature, there would have been tears falling from his eyes. However, what felt right for him was to embrace her for a little bit longer, ending the hug with a simple, “Thank you, Y/N.”

Their bonding moment was cut short by the sudden loud bang of the front door opening, a disheveled and filthy Douxie stumbling in. His man bun had completely become undone, leaving his hair a tangled mess on top of his head. His clothes were covered in soot and his shoes were mysteriously soggy, leaving footprints on the floor. He leans into the door, slamming it shut behind him. 

The two rush over to him. “Oh, fuzzbuckets. What on Earth happened to you?”

“Stealing my catchphrases now, love? I knew I’d eventually rub off on you,”

An annoyed groan escapes Y/N’s lips as she walks over to assist Douxie in standing. “I thought you said you were helping Deya with a simple errand. You look like you volunteered to be her personal target dummy.”

“Knowing Douxie, that probably isn’t far off from the truth,” Archie smirks, giving Douxie an all-knowing look.

“So she didn’t give all of the details of her request, she’s a busy woman. She has a legacy of Trollhunters to begin, can’t expect her to be so thorough.” Douxie chuckles nervously, a laugh that tells Archie all he needs to know but seemingly raises no concern for Y/N. 

“All right. Arch, go enjoy your dinner. I’ll take care of him,” Y/N says, leading Douxie towards the bath further down the hall.

Once she has filled the bath up sufficiently, she sticks a hand into the water, muttering under her breath a spell. Her hand glows a vibrant scarlet shade, and soon the water begins to bubble up with steam rising into the air. Douxie, with clothes discarded onto the floor, leans onto Y/N for support as he slowly descends into the bath. He relaxes his muscles, the warm water helping ease all the aches he has in his limbs. 

“Have I ever said that I love magic? Because I do, I really do,” his girlfriend giggles at his comment as she softly brushes out his mangled locks. Afterwards, she pours some of the water onto his hair, washing away the sweat and grime. 

“Are you sure you’re alright?”

“With you, never better.”

“No, I mean, with everything. I know it’s been a year since the battle, but we haven’t really talked much about what happened. How it’s been for you without...Merlin.” Y/N had been hesitant with bringing up his master, not wanting to cause him any stress or discomfort. Still, she figured it was better than the alternative of Douxie bottling up his feelings.

He adjusts himself so that he’s facing Y/N, looking up to make eye contact with her. Despite himself, he can’t help but get entranced by her eyes, so vibrant and full of genuine love and concern for him. He reaches over and brushes away hair, cupping her face. How he became so lucky to have someone as kind, beautiful, and thoughtful as her be in his life, let alone be with him, he’ll never understand. He doesn’t know what living would be like if she wasn’t a constant presence and he doesn’t want to know. 

So, he lets out something he’s truly been bottling up. 

“Marry me.”

Y/N can’t fully process what he’d just said to her. Her brain hasn’t caught up with her heart, which fluttered the moment those two little words left his mouth. 

“What?”

Douxie lets go of her face to grab onto her hands, pulling them close to him. 

“I wanted to pick a better time to bare my heart out to you, one where I’m not bare...myself,” that earns a little chuckle from Y/N, “But, I just can’t wait any longer.”

He instructs her to grab his tunic still lying on the floor and to check the inner pocket. Once she reaches her hand inside, she feels a small band of metal, pulling it out to see. It’s revealed to be a golden ring, with intricate carvings all along the band, and secured on top was a small emerald gem, so polished that light reflects beautifully off of it. The sight of it alone is enough to make Y/N’s eyes start to water. 

“You made this?”

Douxie gives a little nod, “Hence my very repugnant appearance earlier. I did go to see Deya, but it was to ask her for a favor, not the other way around. I knew they would have just the metal and stone I needed for the ring, however had they warned me that retrieving said materials would be so difficult, maybe I would’ve looked elsewhere,” he explains with a smile. “Go ahead, try it on.”

Y/N slides the ring down her finger, a perfect fit. She looks up at him, eyes brimming with tears.

“Why?”

The answer is simple for him, “Because I love you. It has been hard without Merlin. He was always who I looked to for guidance, afraid of any misstep I would possibly make without his advice, but with you, I’m not afraid. You’re so encouraging and loving that I believe I can trust myself and make my own decisions and they won’t lead to chaos somehow. I look forward to each day because I know you’ll be there. I can’t imagine life without you in it, and I never want to. I realize asking to be with me for the rest of your immortal life is a lot, but-”

“Yes,” she answers, finally letting the tears fall. The biggest smile she thinks she’s ever had spreads across her face. 

Douxie lets out a mixture of a laugh and a gasp of surprise. “Really? Hold on, I don’t want this moment to be me in a bucket the whole time,” he jumps out of the bath, quickly drying himself and tugging on a clean pair of pants. His hair is still wet, leaving droplets of water on his shoulders. Then, he walks in front of Y/N, picking up her hands again to bring them to be his chest. “You’re sure about this?”

Y/N waves her thumbs over his fingers, feeling an overwhelming sense of happiness, “All I’ve ever wanted was a family. People and a place I can consider home. I thought I had found that with Morgana, but I was wrong. Who I really found it with was you. You and Archie are my family. I love Archie dearly, and I’m so in love with you. An eternity with you still doesn’t feel long enough.” 

Now it’s Douxie who’s crying tears of joy. This has to be one of the greatest moments of his life. He gets to be with the love of his life forever and always. He picks her up effortlessly, spinning her around while the two joyously laugh and squeal. Still in the air, Y/N grabs onto his face to pull him in, capturing his lips in a kiss. Douxie sighs into it, not able to properly kiss due to him not being able to stop smiling. They come apart, still holding onto each other and giggling like teenagers.

“Ah, so he finally did it. He’s been worrying about it ever since we moved here,” Archie says, doing his well known habit of waltzing in unannounced.

Douxie lets her down, facepalming at his familiar’s interruption. “That was supposed to be kept a secret, Arch.”

“Apologies. But really Doux? In the bath? Even I could’ve thought of something more grand than that.”

“Why you little-”

“How was your dinner, Archie?” Y/N says before Douxie can have a go at him. 

“Absolutely delightful, you truly are amazing Y/N.”

Y/N thanks him. As Douxie and Archie continue their snarky banter with one another, she can’t help but feel so content in the moment. She realizes that that loneliness she used to feel before will never come again thanks to these two. She may have had to defeat Morgana in the end, but she will be eternally grateful for the gift of love she granted her.

[jimlingss]

Ducklings & Dimples 2

Original / Sequel

➜ Words: 17.1k

➜ Genres: 58% Fluff, 20% Adventure, 20% Action, 2% Angst, Historical!AU - kind of

➜ Summary: After your adventures with Yoongi, you head home to face your family and the duties you've run from. A year has passed since. But you never anticipated meeting him again with his fiancée.

The country of Pegan is one you’ve never had the opportunity to venture into. It was a place that you teetered on, scaling the border, poking your head into one or two of the small villages just to sell in before you were on your way. But you had heard lots about it in his letters. You just never thought you would be visiting it in such a way. Ten round towers form a protective barrier around the elegant castle and are connected by firm walls made of gray stone. Refined windows are scattered generously across the walls in an asymmetric pattern. Beyond the gates are well kept gardens with fragrant flowers, gorgeous trees and many bushes that decorate the outside of the castle. The castle itself has clearly been around for at least a thousand years, but it doesn't seem like it will collapse any time soon. “Back straight. You’re slouching, Taehyung,” your mother barks to your youngest brother and sharply inhales when Jin purposely bumps into him with his broad shoulders, telltale signs he’s trying to instigate more bickering. “Stop that right now, young man. You’re supposed to set an example as the eldest.” “I wasn’t even doing anything!” Jin protests to no avail. Taehyung’s mouth curls as he jumps on the opportunity to berate his older brother, “You’re twenty six. You should act like it.” Seokjin’s mouth drops open. “How dare you bring my age into this.” “Can you guys please shut your mouths for one second?” Lia is exasperated and glares. “People are staring at us.” “Now, now, children.” Your dad clears his throat and brushes off his shoulders. “Let’s not give your mother a hard time and argue in front of the Duchess’ castle.” Your mother holds in her sigh temporarily and makes it to your sister, smoothing out her dress that’s been wrinkled from the carriage ride. “Hair in place, darling.” Then she makes it to the end of the line and looks at you. Your eyes meet hers and you anticipate nagging. Perhaps an insult of how strands of hair have fallen from your updo and around your eyes. Or how you should get rid of that frown off your face before she singes it off. But to your surprise, your mother merely smiles and swivels around. “Shall we enter?” She’s trying — you can see it and it’s an effort you appreciate. Your entire family climbs the marble steps leading up to the grand doors already open with folks filtering inside. It was the Duchess of Pegan’s birthday, a week long affair and evidently, a huge celebration. Much too extravagant for your own tastes, but it’s not like your opinion matters. “Kaela, Elden!” The man in the foyer comes over with a golden chalice and his wife trails after him. Immediately, your mother curtsies along with your sister and you dip down after a delayed second, momentarily forgetting the manners drilled into your brain. “Duke and Duchess Fesan. It’s a pleasure.” “Oh please, don’t be a stranger. It’s been too long!” The older man has silver, short hair that almost fully covers his thin, lived-in face. But his eyes are fond as if he has seen many good things in his lifetime. Fesan Winsor is a duke, brother to the king that runs Pegan. You only know such facts after the relentless history lessons with your overbearing tutor. He gives a light embrace to your mother and father, nods his head towards you and Lia, and shakes Seokjin’s hand. “Why, you’ve grown to be such a strapping, young man. Handsome, indeed. The last I’ve seen of you, you were but a wee boy.” “Thank you.” Jin practically beams over the praise and you and Taehyung roll your eyes. “Are you looking to get married any time soon?” His irises sparkle. “Do you have someone in mind, your grace?” The Duke barks out laughing at the witty quip and your mother audibly sighs. “Seokjin’s much too deep in finishing his studies to be considering marriage, unfortunately. And a bit too immature to handle the responsibilities of such a thing.” “Oh you never know about children,” Duchess Jacquelyn laughs boisterously. “They always grow up faster than we realize.” The Duchess is in a lavish dress that looks like it’s about to swallow her whole, flashy to the maximum and heavy diamonds are wrapped around her neck. It makes you wonder if it aches. Her golden hair is stark with a bit of gray, yet she is bright eyed and overly friendly as she squeezes the living daylights out of Lia and then you. It’s unusual how she has no respect for personal boundaries or what’s mannerly for a high-class lady that she is. There’s small talk made between your father and the Duke, but as the Duchess pulls away from you, her face lights up as if she recalls something. “Wait a moment! You are Y/N, correct?” “Uh, yes. I am, madam.” “Then you were the one who defeated that vicious dragon from the North with Yoongi, weren’t you?! Why your tale of bravery is infamous!” She grasps your hands with an excited smile. You swallow hard, not sure how you feel about being viewed as a hero when you’re not. But you don’t say anything for fear of having to explain. It’s not like you told your own family the true story. “Yes, what an amazing feat,” Duke Winsor marvels. “You must be very prideful to have such a hero in the family.” Your mother is visibly pleased while your dad plops a hand on your shoulder. “Y/N is indeed turning out to be the best sorcerer in our family.” “You would be too if you studied more,” Taehyung mutters to Lia and nudges her while she glares at him. “What about you, Mr. I’m-too-tired-to-practice-magic.” “Children,” your mother’s voice is full of scolding but a pleasant smile is placed on her features. It’s frightening and jarring how different her expression can be from what comes out of her mouth. “Oh, you must be so eager to see your old friend.” The Duchess turns over her shoulder. “Yoongi was here just a moment ago.” You nod stiffly, tight-lipped. “I’ll make sure to send my greetings to him later.” The middle-aged folks continue talking as you and the rest of your siblings stand there like stone statues that are decorating the castle. But as you look around the crowds, fearing the worst, you feel Jin poke you. “Was that the guy you were sending letters to every day?” he asks, referring to what Duchess Jacquelyn said. “Shut it.” Taehyung raises his brows with an amused smile, but no one speaks. It’s become a sensitive topic but always has been — you’ve never let any of them see your letters and you threw a big fuss on several occasions when Lia tried to sneak peaks. Now you regret it. Why did you spend so much time doing such petty, futile things. Eventually, you’re granted mercy when the Duke and Duchess continue welcoming new arrivals and everyone disperses for drinks. And unlike what they said, you’re not eager to see your old ‘friend’ at all. You’re trying to steer clear of him. “What are you doing standing here in the corner?” Your mother finds you reclusive with a flute of ale. It’s not the most sophisticated drink, but does enough to put you more at ease. Though, much to your dismay, she pries the glass out of your grip. “You should be socializing! Making connections. Like your brother!” She turns and you see Taehyung by the refreshment table with a younger girl who looks visibly uncomfortable. He barks out in deafening laughter, startling a few other guests and your mother sighs while you hold back a smile. “Maybe not quite like him.” “Is there something you want to say, mom?” It’s not like her to be so vague and to encourage you to talk to others. She’s always been apprehensive about you mingling, assuming you’re trying to scam them — which you usually are, so her caution isn’t unreasonable. “There’s a divine soul sorcerer,” she announces and instantly, you groan. “Of course there is.” “Don’t give me that look. You haven’t even spoken to him yet.” Unlike how you receive your magic from a legendary phoenix, divine soul sorcerers are blessed individuals who have a connection to divine beings. Whether they align with an ancient prophecy or their ancestor is an angel. They’re undoubtedly someone who could match the status of your family. You’re starting to suspect the reason your mother even came all the way over here was to get you to meet him. “Fine, I’ll talk to him,” you say, just to get her off your back. Your mother’s wrinkles crease when she smiles. “Good to hear. Now that’s one less issue off my plate— “ “I think Taehyung’s trying to impress that girl,” you interrupt, tilting your body over to the youngest who’s about to set the tablecloth on fire. Your mother practically swears underneath her breath and goes marching over without bidding you farewell. There’s a faint smile on your features and as a Halfling waiter passes, you grab a glass of manycherries wine. You release a long exhale, feeling your eyes bags deepen as exhaustion sets into you. Your eyes flicker to the fire roaring underneath the mantle. The rose and orange flames glow against your cheeks. Your fingers. And incidentally, it grows stronger. You feel the fire envelop you. The chatter of the room simmers down as you focus on the crackle and pop of the inferno. But unfortunately, it doesn’t last long. Not with the shrill voices close to you— “It’s a surprise, no? Even the Duke’s fiftieth birthday wasn’t as extravagant as this. All five houses are here and they even extended the invitations to families beyond Pegan.” “Well perhaps they had a good season or maybe one of the houses expanded their territory and we just haven’t heard about it yet. The Duke and Duchess looks after the entire territory and all the faction houses. It’s only natural they benefit from any changes, right?” “Don’t you two know?” “Know what?” “The reason this celebration is lavish….is because it’s practically an engagement party in disguise.” You exhale out of your nose, downing the glass of wine and when you finish, you see a familiar face in the midst. It’s a slender half-Elf with long blonde hair that’s half tied up and reaches to his ribs. Yorril. You remember his name after beating his ass with Yoongi in Bogsburrough a year ago. The memory causes the corner of your mouth to tug in a smirk. He sees you too and immediately turns away, walking off with his eyes wide. There are lots of people from different factions here, but you don’t know any of their names and don’t care to. Though out of the corner of your eye, you catch sight of a tall man in a white cape fluttering behind with his eyes focused right on you — undoubtedly the divine sorcerer your mother was referring to by his blinding aura — and you take Yorril’s inspiration and walk away as well. You drop your glass on a nearby table and zip into the dark hallway without looking back. You’re not sure where you’re going, merely winding down the corridors. But eventually your steps slow. Goosebumps raise all over the back of your arm. It feels like you’re being watched. Like there’s someone creeping. That there’s a presence behind you. But before you can turn around to discern what it is, a husky timbre makes you halt. “...alright?” At once your body seizes, freezing in its stop. Your blood runs warmer and your back meets the stone wall. There’s a sliver of light coming from the parted door inches away and you pull your orb out from the secret pocket you sewn into your dress. Gripping the object, you channel your magic and cast clairvoyance. The hearing sensor is placed behind the door. “Thank you, Yoongi.” It’s an unfamiliar soft-spoken voice. You hear his hum. “You’re welcome.” “I’m sorry. I know there’s a lot of people out there. I didn’t think my mother would invite so many people. It’s usually not like her to do this and—” “Hey, it’s okay. You don’t need to apologize. I don’t mind as much as you think I do.” “Really?” “I can’t say I enjoy it, but it’s not so bad every so often.” You swallow hard, feeling your heart clog your throat. Though before you can hear another thing, a hand plops down on your shoulder. And you nearly shriek in surprise. Out of all people, you turn to find dad wearing a mischievous smile that Taehyung and Seokjin inherited, and he nudges his chin to the door. “Your mother wouldn’t like you eavesdropping, you know. Come on, let’s go back.” You nod, following after him. The two of you return to the main room and step out into the terrace, away from the crowd. “There’s plenty of other men out there, Y/N.” “I know,” you mutter without looking at him, unable to help sulking. The older man smiles, having an inkling of why you’ve been so quiet. “It’s okay for you to be upset. Everything’s a process of trial and error. And it’s something that’ll come and go in due time.” You sigh lightly, trying to muster a smile that never really comes. “You want me to meet that divine soul sorcerer like mom, don’t you?” “Heavens no.” Your dad pats you on the back as you look out into the gardens. “I just want the best for my daughter.” You meet his eye and he grins. It’s moments like these that you’re glad you came home. “Elden!” The pair of you turn around as an older woman with cat-like eyes and a piercing stare steps out onto the terrace, her slender black dress sparkling like the stars. “My goodness, it’s been ages!” “Hyoyeon.” Your dad gives a laugh. “You haven’t aged a day!” They come to an embrace and she pulls away. “Oh, you’re too kind. Have you met my son yet?” Your worst nightmare emerges. Yoongi is dressed in a black tunic, pants, boots and a black velvet cape draped over his left side. He looks less like a knight on a quest and more like a prince. But one thing that hasn’t changed is his duckling-like hair. Strands of pale yellow that stand out. His eyes immediately center on you in surprise. As if he wasn’t expecting you here. And of course he wasn’t. You hated functions and celebrations like these, but once you heard the rumours, you couldn’t help but beg to come. Or maybe he’s giving you that expression because of how odd you look. You suppose he’s never seen you in anything other than braids and that peasant dress that you used to disguise yourself in. Now, your mother wouldn’t catch you dead in attire like that. But with him comes the Duke’s daughter, Fesan Klarinda, the Marquise of Pegan. She’s petite with spiral curls and dimples dotted in each side of her cheek. She’s the epitome of delicate. Instantly, the girl looks between you and Yoongi, realizing that your gazes are locked into one another’s. “Y/N.” He breathes it out and something swells inside your throat to hear him call your name. It’s hard to keep your face blank and impassive. Yoongi’s mother glances at him and then you. “You know each other?” “She was my partner during my adventure.” “She helped you defeat the dragon? Y/N from the great Phoenix family?” his mother gasps and nudges him. With her teeth gritted, she mutters, “Why didn’t you tell me that? Had I known….” Your dad’s laugh cuts through the suffocating tension. “Such a small world indeed. But I’m glad to finally meet the man who protected my daughter. Congratulations on your engagement, son.” “It’s nice to meet you,” Yoongi’s fiancée says with a demure smile and you give a curtsy without uttering a word. “Is your eldest son here, Hyoyeon?” “Oh, Hoseok unfortunately couldn’t make it to the occasion. He’s busy studying arcane magic in a monk temple in Baldur's Gate. So I only have my youngest with me today.” “Not at all! Education is of the utmost priority for the children.” While they speak, Klarinda clears her throat. “There must be a lot to catch up on since you and Yoongi are fairly close, I heard.” “Yes, he is a great friend to me, my lady.” Yoongi’s eye twitches, but you pay no mind. You don’t speak a single word to him and while it’s terribly awkward, you seize the opportunity to leave. “I find myself a bit parched. If you'll excuse me.” You get away as quickly as you can while grabbing fistfuls of your heavy dress, feeling more strands falling out of your updo. But being out of his presence doesn’t mean you’ve escaped. You feel the weight of Yoongi’s intent gaze on you all night, from across the room to the table. You’re barely able to survive dinner and the food’s not at all charred enough to your tastes. You’re beginning to regret coming here. Even when you knew you had to see it for yourself. “Excuse me. I believe you are Lady Y/N, right?” After dinner, the divine soul sorcerer finally corners you at a moment when your guard is down, having been too focused on Yoongi. The man has silver hair neatly coiffured, but the colour isn’t from age nor is it lackluster. It matches his cape and white attire. Undoubtedly, the sorcerer has an otherworldly appearance. He’s handsome and practically radiant to that of an angel’s. And he draws attention, causing girls to turn their heads and swoon for him. You can only imagine his power and it’s no wonder your mother has insisted that you meet him. But you are far from being impressed. “You are?” “Allow me to introduce myself! I am Jinha, a favoured soul sorcerer. Son of the magnificent Concordia House here in Pegan. My ancestor was the chosen one of the Goddess Mystra.” His palm opens and he glances at your hand. But you don’t entertain the idea of him kissing your knuckles, so he retracts his arm after an awkward moment. He clears his throat. “You look absolutely ravishing. The most beautiful person at this party aside from myself of course,” he quips. You deadpan, “Thanks.” “Are you enjoying the party?” Hardly. “I am.” “Have you tried any of the crab-stuffed lobster tail yet—?” “I much prefer the wine.” You grab a glass from the tray of a stubby butler passing by and you down half of it. When you lower the glass, you find that he’s still there, smirking like an idiot. While this relationship would be textbook perfect, you hate sorcerers. You are one, have three siblings that are, spent your childhood surrounded by them. So you know best how arrogant and entitled sorcerers can be. You bet he spends his free time looking in the mirror. Plus, there’s already enough magic in you for two people. “I happened to speak to your mother earlier, Lady Y/N.” “Did you?” “She said you’ve been traveling before. I have been traveling across the lands myself, so we have quite a bit in common.” “Yes,” you answer in a monotone and then your eyes light up as you spin around on your heel to him. “Actually, she might’ve not told you but I run a business.” “A business?” “I’m a business woman. It’s gotten a bit pushed to the side since I’ve gotten home, but maybe I should start it back up again.” “What kind of business is it?” Jinha stands straighter as if to show how capable he is. “I would love to help.” “Would you?” A feigned coy smile comes across your face and you lean in to graze his shoulder. “I have quite a bit of valuables collected and a lot of ancient potions I sell. All from my travels. You’re actually very fortunate since I have one with me. Would you like to buy one? I’ll be willing to give it to you at a reduced price of ten gold pieces.” Since the first time you’ve arrived, you feel energy return to you. But then much to your dismay, the damned sorcerer apologizes— “I don’t actually have any gold on me right now.” “How about your ring.” You point downward, never breaking eye contact. “This is once in a lifetime opportunity.” Either your skills are rusty or he’s denser than a rock because your persuasions don’t get through. “I would never dare to give you such a worthless ring, Lady Y/N! With so many shiny valuables practically overflowing out of the hundreds of rooms at my enormous manor, you deserve something much more precious. Perhaps we could arrange a time when you could come visit my massive estate.” You audible sigh, not even trying to hide it. For the next ten minutes, the sorcerer bores you with speech about himself, his family, how he personally knows the Duke, how he’s expanding his manor to have two more gardens and five more fountains, and how delicious the crab-stuffed lobster tail is. You barely manage to escape, simply excusing yourself to find your sister. But as you turn the corner, away from prying eyes and ears, you grip your orb in your pocket and channel your arcane magic. You cast disguise self and at once, you take the form of the stubby butler from earlier. A foot shorter, larger, and white tailcoat with black breeches. Your empty glass even turns into a tray and you strut down the corridor with your head held high. You’re going to leave. Out the front door. Never to return. Coming here was a mistake — and confronting Yoongi isn’t something you think you have in you. You’re better suited to having no real relationships, no commitment, no attachments. Merely traveling around and scamming others is what you do best. After all, things were easier back then when you had no direction. There was less emotional turmoil. Fewer obligations. Fewer consequences. But regrets are a little too late, so in the heat of the moment, you throw away your hard-earned compromise with your mother and decide to run. Yet, before you can even think of launching yourself out the open arched window, your eyes grow wide at the man at the end of the hall. Yellow strands of hair catch your attention first. Then it’s the sleepy eyes. The tender features. Immediately, you pull your gaze away from him and stare ahead. It’s not too hard to make yourself unsuspicious when you’re disguised as a butler and Yoongi seems to pay no mind to you either. He merely walks past and you breathe a sigh of relief. But then strong arms wrap around your waist and your back meets a firm chest. The spell breaks. He saw right through you. Right through your illusion. Yoongi’s soft exhale causes goosebumps to rise all over your arms. “Thank god, it’s you. I was worried that it was really the butler.” His timbre is huskier than you remember. You stumble out of his embrace and turn around. “I apologize, sir. I wasn’t trying to create any trouble. ” “Sir?” Yoongi’s brows furrow, deep enough that it looks like it hurts. Neither of you say anything for a long moment as he stares at you and you divert your vision, preferring to admire how smooth the white pillars of the castle look. Then, his hand suddenly reaches out to graze the loose strands of hair that have fallen from your updo. It’s a gentle gesture and he quietly comments, “Your hair’s gotten longer.” But you don’t react. “How have you been?” he asks faintly. “Fine.” You keep your reply curt and short. Distant. “Congratulations on your engagement, sir.” “Y/N.” He sounds annoyed. “Let me explain—” But when you finally meet his gaze, your eyes are painfully stinging and his voice tapers off. You curse underneath your breath, having tried so hard to keep yourself together. Yet the effort to prevent humiliation is being swept down the drain, so you grab fistfuls of your dress and march away. “Y/N!” Yoongi doesn’t chase after you. You snivel violently, doing all you can to not let tears shed. You fail to watch where you’re going and you run into your older sister. “Where have you…..are you okay?” Lia looks down at you, her eyes wide at your state. You merely shake your head and her lips pout as she pulls you in. She doesn’t need to ask. “It’s okay. There, there. No one’s going to hurt you.” She’s wrong. You’ve already been hurt. // Min Yoongi is a bastard. You’ve sorely underestimated his abilities. He manipulates emotions better than you can, but you’re more so angry at yourself for misinterpreting memories. For allowing your imagination to take its course. After all, it’s easier to transform your hurt into anger than reveling in sorrow. You’ve never been the type to be passive. The morning after the banquet, there are tournaments out on the East field. You’re seated at the rows near the Duke and Duchess with the rest of your family. Taehyung is watching intently while Seokjin prefers to wave to girls seated a few seats down much to your mother’s dismay. You’re sitting beside Lia who has her parasol to shield the sun away and is fanning herself to keep sweat from her face. She hasn’t teased you about last night, not when it looked serious enough. But she hasn’t pried either, even though you know eventually she will. Curiosity has always been a fault in your family — second to recklessness. You watch as two men below fight, one with a bow and the other with a mace. You don’t recognize them, merely knowing they’re from different factions. And that they seem to be taking their hatred out on each other. “Ooh.” Taehyung sharply inhales when the Elf with the mace slashes the Half-Elf holding the bow. “That looks like it hurts.” The Half-Elf surrenders and the Halfling referee calls an end to the match. “It’s so hot out,” Lia pants and wipes her forehead with a handkerchief. “Since when did you care about sweating or not?” you ask, lolling your head to the side. She clicks her tongue. “Tch. Don’t you know how many potential suitors are here? I have to look my best. You should too.” “Can I leave?” you ask your mother, tilting yourself to her. Seokjin whirls his head around. “I second that.” “Absolutely not,” she hisses and glances over her shoulder, making sure that the Duke and Duchess aren’t listening. “We are honoured guests and it would be very rude.” “At least wait until the intermission,” your father adds with a charming smile. With that said, you sit back and try to get comfortable. From below, the Halfling referee steps up to his podium and announces through a cone, “For our next match, on the right is Jinha, divine sorcerer from the House of Concordia. And to our left is Yoongi, knight fighter from the House of Min and the Order of the Black Sun!” Your breath hitches in your throat. Immediately, Lia nudges you. “Who’s that?” Her eyes are pinpointed to the obnoxious man from last night who emerges while sweeping his hair back, his golden staff carried in his grasps. But you’re preoccupied with the other man. Someone with pastel yellow hair. Even from far away, it’s all too stark against his heavy armour. And you swear he’s looking right at you. Or maybe not. It could be for his fiancée who’s diagonal to where you are. That would make more sense. You damn yourself for being delusional again. “So that’s him?” Taehyung turns to you, asking, “The one you sent letters to?” “I never did such a thing,” you mutter. The Halfling shouts at the top of his lungs and the match begins. Yoongi grips his rapier in his hands and closes the distance. He hits twice, slamming down the blade onto Jinha with narrowed eyes and then surges forward for a critical hit. His accuracy and precision has become more refined since the last time you saw him fight. Yet, Jinha never bumbles or falls to his knees in spite of the brutality. He tightens his grip on his staff, jaw clamping down. He casts burning hands. His fingers spread and a thin sheet of flames shoots forth from his outstretched fingertips. It causes Yoongi to stumble back and the sorcerer turns his head, flashing a bright grin towards the rows, undoubtedly for you. But you aren’t fazed — not when you’re at the edge of your seat, gaze placed on Yoongi. Lia, on the other hand, is the one who’s impressed. Her jaw draws open, a soft gasp befalling her lips as she covers her mouth with a gloved hand. Across the field, your eyes lock into Yoongi’s. And then he’s moving again, blade slashing thrice. Jinha surrenders. “I should challenge you!” Taehyung suddenly breaks both you and Lia’s trance with his loud and startling voice, looking directly at Seokjin with a rectangular grin. “Do you want to fight?” “Actually, that doesn’t sound like a bad idea.” A wide smile spreads into your older brother’s face. “Do you think you could take me on?” Taehyung’s already rolling up his sleeves. “You’re just going to have to wait and s—” Your mother immediately pulls him down with the force of gravity itself. Her eyes pierce into your siblings. “Absolutely not! I won’t have any of my children fighting and hurting themselves!” The Halfling referee turns. “Does anyone want to challenge the victor of this mat—” You stand. “I do!” Your mother is absolutely mortified. Your father is taken aback. Taehyung is already smiling with a murmured ‘awesome’ while both Seokjin and Lia are visibly amused. There’s little your parents can do too when the Duchess starts clapping and hollering for you to enter the field and the Duke wishes you luck, citing that he’s excited to see the true capabilities of your household. “For our next match on the right is Y/N, phoenix sorcerer from the Kim Phoenix Household. And to our left is Yoongi, knight fighter from the House of Min and the Order of the Black Sun!” From the distance, no one can hear the two of you. No one can discern the way Yoongi’s looking at you. How he’s deflated, sword drooping by his side, his form not at all ready. “I’m not going to fight you,” Yoongi declares with the furrow of his brows. You scoff. “Then you’re weak.” Gripping your spellcasting focus, your blazing red and orange swirling orb, you channel your magic and cast fireball. A bright streak flashes from your pointing finger towards him, blossoming with a low roar into an explosion of flames. But it misses when he nimbly dodges out of the range. The spectators cheer, on the edge of their seats. Yoongi, realizing that you’re not conceding, moves towards you. He grips his rapier and hits twice, bringing his blade down to slash. You sharply inhale, but keep your feet rooted into the ground and as he raises his arm for the third time, it slips. The weapon falls to the ground. “Pick it up,” you spit at him in Elvish, straightening out your spine again. Gasping, you cast Melf’s Minute Meteors and six tiny meteors manifest. They float in the air and orbit you until you send both of them towards him. It misses, exploding on the ground instead. Yoongi grabs his sword, but when he hits you, it’s weak. It barely skims you. Doesn’t even break through skin. And he drops his rapier again. “Keep going! Don’t stop!” This time, the shout isn’t coming from you but from Duchess Jacquelyn who’s crazed as she grips the banister and cackles maniacally. The Duke stares at her in discomfort at how wrapped up she is and Yoongi’s fiancée, Klarinda, shakes her head. “Mom.” You have no plans of surrendering. Even if you drop dead here. You cast fireball again and this time, the blossoming roar of the flames consumes Yoongi. You hear him cry out in agony and you send two meteors orbiting you his way. One misses, but the other one explodes on his chest. Yoongi’s teeth clenches. His knuckles turn white. But before he surges forward with his rapier, the smoke dissipates and he sees you. Tears in your eyes. The trembling of your bottom lip. The quivering of your entire frame. And no one hears when you softly curse him— “Bastard.” Yoongi drops his sword into the dirt. “I forfeit.” At once, Klarinda races down the rows, grabbing fistfuls of her dress. “Excuse me, pardon me!” She races down the field undignified, but to resume to her fiancé’s side. She searches his expression. “A-Are you alright, Yoongi? I can heal you.” She casts cure wounds and presses her palms to his pectorals over his armour. And after she does so, she looks between you and Yoongi. But by that time, you’ve long grabbed your own dress and marched off the field, leaving the two lovers behind. At the exact same moment, a ghostly presence fades from the open arched window on the fourth floor, their eyes having been pinpointed on your figure for the entirety of the match. // There’s someone watching you. You can tell with the way goosebumps raise all over the back of your arm, hairs on the back of your neck lifted, how there’s a sudden weight of someone’s stare on your shoulders. It feels like there’s someone creeping, a presence behind you. Your heel pivots. “Yoon—” But it isn’t him or any of your siblings. A translucent force tries to push itself into your body, causing your words to choke in your throat, your weakened knees to stumble back. Your lungs wither and your throat dries as the remaining air inside you wheezes out. But you resist. With all the strength left inside of you. You use your remaining energy to prevent the force from taking control, from entering and intruding. And in the next moment, it slips out and flounders in front of you. What would be a terrified shriek ends up as coughs as you gasp for air. “W-What in the holy fuck—” It’s a ghost. A chubby man in white sleeping silks, his dark hair brushing against his shoulders, but his form translucent and feet floating inches off the cobblestone hall. Your seething fire running through your blood flares. It seeps out and magically wreathes around you as your eyes glow as hot coals. You lift your finger to him, threatening to attack and he steps back. “Hold on there! Don’t be hasty!” the ghost spits in panic. “I sincerely apologize for my blunder!” “Who are you?! What were you trying to do to me?!” “My name is Leo and I just wanted to borrow your body for a bit! You see...I have some unfinished business.” There’s an extended silence. Then you lower your arm and the fire drawn back into you. Your stare is unwavering and Leo musters a smile on his thin lips, wrinkles around his eyes creasing. “In hindsight, I should have asked. I apologize for intruding.” You scoff, guard still up. “What’s your unfinished business?” “Ah, I would like to see the sunrise one last time.” The ghost turns to glance out the window. “Someone once tried to banish me away, so now I’m in a quite unstable form. I am only able to venture in this realm when it is day or night when time itself is stable. I disappear every time there is a sunset or sunrise.” Your brow lifts. “So you’ve been haunting this castle?” “Well, I can’t leave if I have unfinished business.” Leo smiles at you, eyes almost hopeful. “Whoever tried to banish you should’ve done it properly,” you deadpan. Getting rid of this ghost could be your birthday present to the Duchess. “I don’t know the banishment spell unfortunately. But my older brother does.” You start to march down the hall, but the ghost follows after you frantically. “Please don’t banish me! I beg of you! Please!” It’s an opportunity and you seize it. Your feet halt and you twist to him with a smirk growing. “Then what will you offer me?” “Offer you?” “As payment.” Your arms cross. “We can strike a fair deal. If you want to borrow my body, I’ll let you. But only if you can give me gold.” The ghost bursts out in hearty laughter that streams from his chest. “I don’t have anything to my name anymore, dear sorcerer. Certainly not gold. I’m dead!” Your face morphs into impassivity, lips drawn into a tight line. “Then I’m afraid I can’t help you.” Yet, he still follows relentlessly, floating to your left and to your side, eyes plastered onto your profile. “Oh, but can’t you offer me even half a day out of the kindness of thy own heart? Surely you must feel pity for a ghost like me that’s forced to wander this castle with no end. I will leave when my business is complete, that I can assure.” “Why don’t you go bother someone else?” “But you are special.” At that, your steps slow and he smiles again. “You know magic well and it reminds me of a certain someone.” “Who?” He hums and frowns. “I can’t seem to remember.” You scoff. After years of your business, of persuasion and deception, you can tell he’s not being entirely truthful. But before you can press on and coax the ghost’s true intentions out, there’s a noisy interruption. “Y/N!” Taehyung approaches with his mouth lopsided. “Who are you talking to?” You turn to your side, but the middle-aged ghost has vanished in thin air. “It was a ghost.” “What?” He looks at you as if you’ve gone crazy and maybe you have. “There aren’t ghosts here. Are you okay?” “I’m fine.” “I came to tell you that mom’s looking for you.” At your exaggerated sigh, Taehyung grins. “Trust me, it’s a lot worse than what you think.” He’s right. Your mother’s caught wind that a few youngsters are going boating and of course, she has to push her children into the private affair. You’re largely unamused, not a fan of being stuck in large bodies of water, even if it’s just a lake. “You have to go.” The moment she sharply enunciates the word, she pulls on the strings on your back laced bodice with all her might and you choke on air. “How else are you going to get married?” She doesn’t see you roll your eyes in the mirror. “My plan isn’t to get married.” “Well you never know what might happen. Keep an open mind.” Somehow, she thinks marriage will quell her troublesome daughters, especially you. But you can’t blame her for holding such an idea. At this point, she’s trying everything she can. “It’s time to be a little more ladylike after the whole tournament fiasco.” In the meanwhile, Lia is sitting in the corner, amused. She has a frilly, puffed up skirt of her own, a shade of light pink and on top of her head, a giant hat with flowers. She’s always been the prettier one. But as you turn to the mirror in your own blue summer dress your mother’s putting you in, you find that you aren’t half bad. Your mother knows you tend to get yourself dirty and that you don’t particularly enjoy being dressed up, so your attire is much less obnoxious and more subtle. It’s proof she’s thought about you. Eventually, your eyes drift off of your reflection to the flames dancing in the fireplace. You stare at the crimson light it gives, the way the subtle smoke that rises from it, curling towards the chimney. “There we are.” Your mother secures the last pins in your hair and smooths out your skirt. “Not too shabby, darling,” she says with a smile as if satisfied from her own work. You wonder what’s the point of trying. It’s not like anyone will be enamoured with you. The person who matters the most after all has already been taken. “You look absolutely beautiful this fine afternoon, Lady Y/N.” Your trance shatters and you look at the man blankly. “Jinha.” “Dare I say, you may be more lovely than you were last night!” He grins and you answer him in silence. You allow the noise of the surroundings to respond instead — the cawing of the birds, the sloshing of the water on the edge of the grass, your brothers laughing as the boats bump into the pier. The only mercy given to him is when Lia quite literally bumps into you and clears her throat loudly. “Ahem. Hello. I don’t believe we’ve met before.” The sorcerer’s smile widens. “Excuse me, but you are?” “I am Lia, Y/N’s older sister. But I’m not that much older. Only by two years. I’m turning twenty four.” You’ve never seen Lia flounder so much. It’s amusing to behold. “Oh, I knew Y/N had a sister, but I would’ve thought you were the younger sister,” Jinha says smoothly and her expression lights up even further. He takes her hand, placing a kiss upon her knuckles and you’re glad she’s taken his attention. Heaven knows you aren’t interested. But as you’re about to walk away, your line of sight falls to a familiar girl with dimples. Klarinda, the Duke’s daughter, is wearing a brimmed hat and her expensive silk skirt flutters with her. If she’s here then where’s— Yoongi’s staring right at you. As if he’s a predator and you’re merely the prey. Immediately, you return to Lia being overly flirtatious with Jinha. It’s bearable for a few minutes until you join your brothers who are horsing around and threatening to push one another into the lake. But out of the corner of your eye, you watch Yoongi and look away when your eyes meet. You know he’s watching you too. You try your best to stay focused on your surroundings. The strangers around were from different families and factions, civil with each other when they’re on the Duke’s grounds. At most, they send glares to their enemies. So you allow the polite, peaceful chatter to engulf you before everyone slowly gets onto the boats to row out and enjoy the lake. “Finally!” Taehyung suddenly twists around, holding a rope in hand. “I got it untied!” Jin facepalms himself. “You idiot! You’re supposed to untie the rope after everyone’s gotten in!” “What?” “Not to worry!” Jinha announces with a grin and nimbly hops inside the boat before it drifts too far off the pier. He holds out his hand for Lia and she gladly takes it with a giggle, being guided in. You watch at a loss for words as the boat gets farther and farther. Still, the divine sorcerer boldly holds out his hand for you. “Lady Y/N!” You hesitate. The boat is already full with four people and you’re not sure if it’s worth jumping in and potentially getting pulled into the lake. But suddenly, before you can make a decision, your waist is pulled back by strong arms. “It’s okay. She can come with me. There’s one left.” “Yoongi!” your gasp is sharp and you look up at him. But he remains unfazed. Your siblings have their brows raised. But by then, they’ve already drifted off and Taehyung wordlessly rows away. You don’t have time to react or object — not when Yoongi’s grabbed your hand and you stumble after him. The last rowboat rocks back and forth violently and you drop into a seated position on the seat before you can fall in. It takes three seconds. The rope is untied and Yoongi rows away from the pier. You notice his fiancée meters away in her own boat, sitting closely with girls chatting and giggling together. Yet, she pays no mind to her friends. Instead, she stares at the two of you. “Shouldn’t you be with her?” Yoongi follows your line of sight and mumbles, “It’s fine.” You’re stuck with him. Yoongi rows where no one else does and you watch the water cascade back. The soft sloshing fills the background as it gets quiet and much too uncomfortable. Yoongi’s husky timbre breaks the tension. “How have you been?” “Well, I’ve just been trapped in my house ever since I’ve returned, but things are great.” Your voice drips of venomous sarcasm, but when you lift your eyes, his gaze locks into yours. The blonde man wears a somber expression, his irises darkening and you sigh, speaking at a quieter volume. “I actually worked out a deal with my parents. As long as I behave and don’t tarnish my family name, I can do as I please. There’s more freedom than before. But it’s a work in progress full of compromise. If I want to leave, I’ll have to write a plan so they know where I’m headed. I just haven’t decided what I want to do next.” Your muttering gets quiet and your face hardens. “Obviously, you’re doing well.” Yoongi stops rowing. He allows the boat to drift. “The engagement was set up by my mother.” “Oh please, Yoongi.” Your eyes roll and you cross your arms, ready for his excuses that you knew were coming. “It was arranged. For all I know, I haven’t proposed to anyone yet.” “That doesn’t change that fact that you’re an engaged man!” Your teeth grit. “It doesn’t change the fact that you’re going to go off with her and have a bunch of kids and a big family together, so congratu-fucking-lations.” It’s unbearable. There’s nowhere you can run. He’s truly trapped you here to confront one another. “And when were you planning to tell me? All those letters and you didn’t mention it once!” Your eyes sting painfully as your vision floods, overwhelmed with emotion. You feel blindsighted. “I thought I wouldn’t have to tell you at all. I was going to take care of it. I didn’t know you were going to be here.” “You really think it’s easy to call off an engagement with the Duke’s daughter?!” you spit and he takes your onslaught of anger. The pain is visible on your visage. “If I didn’t come, were you going to tell me when you got to the altar? Or after you got back from the honeymoon? I...I feel like an idiot.” “I’m sorry.” Staggering exhales pull from your lungs after your tangent and silence fills the large distance between the pair of you. Yet, Yoongi’s gaze is too tender for you to bear. “My biggest regret is not kissing you that night,” he murmurs. “Or rather, not asking you to come with me.” “It’s too late.” “It isn’t.” “What are you going to do, Yoongi?” “I’m going to call it off.” “How?” “I’ll try.” His voice is low, eyes half-lidded. “Then what?” you spit in exasperation. “What reason would you have to call it off? It’s a great arrangement! A beneficial marri—” “I want to marry you.” The inside of your chest stutters. Your breath catches in your throat. Warmth rises to your face and heats your cheeks like a furnace. Yoongi isn’t a straightforward man, blunt but never honest with his feelings. That trait has bred so many uncertainties within you. But in this moment, you feel his sincerity. You can see it, how hard he’s tried to reach you, to tell you his intentions. It reminds you of that night in Rutherglen. The festival and fireworks, when you were so close to one another, when you would’ve gone anywhere with him. “You’re an idiot, Min Yoongi.” You stand. “I don’t feel like talking to idiots.” You pull your orb from your pocket and cast shape water. The waves rise and it splashes him. Yoongi’s yellow hair is soaked along with the entire side of his head. His visage washes over into impassivity, akin to a glare. But you don’t dwell, palms laying flat in the air as you manipulate the water and push the boat back to shore. The minute you get to the pier, you pull yourself up. “I learnt more spells other than fire magic since our fight with the Remorhaz,” you add, “if you even remember that.” You know it’s unfair, but you rush away before he can discern how in a few words, he’s given you hope. The very hope that you know can easily break your heart again. // It’s been less than two full days, but it feels like an eternity. You’re slouched over an open arched window, elbow propped on the stone with your chin rested in your hand. The valleys of Pegan are out in the distance behind the fogged clouds, countless adventures and creatures out there for you to discover and explore. But you find yourself rooted in your place, a sense of uneasiness and yearning preventing you from leaving. At sounds of quacking, your eyes drift from the scenery to the first floor. By the staircase is a white duck with an orange beak trotting along with a row of pale yellow, baby ducklings behind her. They follow their mother religiously, teetering from side to side, trying not to get too curious of the world around them and a smile graces your lips. “Are ducklings your favourite animal, sorcerer?” Your spine straightens in shock and the wandering ghost, Leo, grins at you. Your hand presses to your chest as you steady your breath. “Are you trying to scare me to death?!” “Of course not! That would be defeating the purpose. I can’t borrow your body if you’re dead like I am,” he chortles, arms behind his back as he floats from your right side to your left. “I wanted to merely apologize for this morning. I didn’t mean to be so invasive or startle you.” You glare at him, not yet accepting his apology. He continues nonetheless— “Also, I want you to help me.” You snort unattractively, having known he had other purposes in approaching you again. “Unless you agree to my deal, the answer is no.” “Please,” Leo pleads. “I can’t move on.” You push yourself off the wall and walk away. He follows after you, even after you quicken your steps. “Why can’t you possess someone else’s body and watch your stupid sunrise?” “That is not my greatest desire.” The ghost comes in front of you and you halt in fear of him entering your body. “I’m afraid I haven’t been entirely truthful to you, dear sorcerer.” Your brow lifts, waiting patiently and Leo swallows hard. “I await another lost soul and I wish to depart this world together with them. I can’t move on without them.” Your frustration makes your voice shrill. “It’s not only you who has problems, alright? I can’t even fix mine! What makes me think I can fix yours?!” As your annoyance boils over, you start running. It’s useless to try to elude a ghost who can’t get tired, but you try anyway. “Sorcerer!” And without looking, you turn the corner and collide with another body. “Woah!” Jin steadies you before the two of you can topple over. “Why are you not looking at where you’re going?” Lia is with him and regards you with wide eyes. “Are you okay?” You glance over your shoulder. The ghost never comes. “It’s nothing,” you mutter in a sigh. “Mom’s looking for you again.” “What is it this time?” The words come out in a tired exhale. Your older brother shrugs. “Might have to do with tonight’s dinner.” “Hey, Y/N.” Suddenly, Lia takes your hands. “Tell me honestly, do you like Jinha?” “No.” You warily eye her, not sure where she’s going with this. The corner of Jin’s mouth curls. “Why? You like him?” “Well, if she doesn’t like him, she should give him to me,” Lia mumbles, then quickly turns to you. “Of course, if you do, then by all means, our sisterhood is my top priority….” You pull your hand away from her. “I don’t like him, Lia. But he’s not mine to give away either. You can do whatever you want.” Your sister’s eyes twinkle with a kind of enthusiasm that makes you scoff with a smile. Jin’s mouth is quirked as well, but his curiosity has been piqued and he doesn’t hesitate to ask— “It’s because of him, isn’t it? He’s the reason you’re not interested. The youngest son of the Min faction. What was his name?” “Yoongi.” If possible, Lia’s features light up further and she steps forward, cornering you. “What happened on that boat ride, Y/N? It seemed like you were having a really intense talk.” “It was nothing,” you murmur. “He practically pulled you into the boat with him. I mean, did his fiancée mind?” In the midst of the interrogation, Jin shifts to you, eyes unwavering. “You started sending him letters the minute you got back, but now he’s engaged and he happens to pull you aside like that— What really happened on your adventure together?” Millpass, Bogsburrough, Rutherglen. The memories seep back into you. The fireworks and festival, the night at the roadside tavern, fighting together at the underground market. The way he rushed in front of you in the face of the white dragon, how the two of you sat on the hill and watched the sunset together. It’s overwhelming. “Who is he to you?” “I said nothing!” you lie and push past them, stomping in the other direction to get away from your overbearing siblings. “Hey!” Lia shouts after you. “Mom’s still calling you!” You ignore them, turning the corner then down the staircase lest the wandering ghost plagues you again or you run into Taehyung, your mother or father. For good measure, you depart outside without any direction but merely feeling the soft grass underneath your boots. You’re about to turn yourself invisible for a moment of peace or disguise yourself as a maid to escape, but with your unfortunate luck that’s been bestowed to you since you arrived, you run into dimples before you get the chance. A petite figure with spiral curls and an evening dress of modesty. Her brown eyes sparkle as your eyes lock with one another’s. With half a mind and all the etiquette training that had been slammed into you at childhood, you curtsy. “Hello.” “Good evening.” Klarinda smiles at you without a trace of malice. “What a coincidence meeting you here. I was about to head to my greenhouse.” “Yes.” You stiffly nod. “If you’ll excuse me…” But before you can march off, she twirls around. “Would you like to join me?” It’s an open space. The gardens seem to stretch on for miles, plant walls that border the perimeter. In the center of it all is a structure made of glass. The ceilings are high to let in sunlight and there are rows and benches of potted plants and flowers. “Some of these I grow simply because they’re beautiful. But a lot of these herbs have medicinal purposes.” “You’re a cleric, aren’t you, my lady?” “I am, like my mother. And you don’t have to address me by such formal titles. A friend of Yoongi’s is a friend of mine.” The girl smiles. “Klarinda is fine.” You nod and she quietly hums a song as she waters flowers. You follow after her until a particular plant catches your eye — verdant leafs, yellow petals and plump berries. “It’s a sunberry plant,” Klarinda says when she notices your curiosity. “Would you like to try one?” The Duke’s daughter happily plucks one off and holds it out in front of you. The second your teeth bites down, the sweetness explodes into your cheek. She giggles at your reaction. “Good, right? My dad likes to come in here and eat them when they’re in season, so they’re always gone.” “Good enough to sell. You should cast a protection or barrier spell on them.” “I should.” She grins, dimples dotted on both sides of her face. “But between you and me, I actually don't mind so much. It makes me happy that he enjoys something from my garden, even if he has to sneak in.” Most of your first impressions aren’t wrong. Within minutes of conversation, you can figure out if a customer is going to chase you down and try to fight you or might come back at a latter time to buy more. And you can tell her innocence isn’t a feigned facade. The Marquise is endearing enough that you like her for it. For a moment, you almost feel envious of Yoongi. But they’re undoubtedly a good match. A stoic, strong knight capable of shielding away a virtuous maiden who knows nothing of the world, but is kind and generous to a fault. It’s a portrait perfect couple. “This place is really beautiful.” You force yourself away from the thoughts that form a lump in your throat. “Thank you. It can get lonely though.” You hum, supposing a vast yet empty estate would do that to someone. “Don’t people from Pegan visit often?” “They do. They mostly arrive for business. I used to play with all kinds of children from the different factions, especially during holidays. But they can be……” “A bit much?” Klarinda laughs. “Yes! Some might say crazy or competitive, but much is a good word too.” You grin. “I’ve barely gotten to know how the factions work, but I can already tell. Some of them are so conceited.” Her eyes sparkle. “Like Jinha?” “Yes!” She giggles, her dimples creased deeper and her teeth shown in the light. Like this, she’s less of a proper and demure lady, niece to the king, and more like a girl you would’ve known on your travels. “He can be quite a gentleman, but he has an arrogant nature.” “My sister likes him, but I’m not sure why. Personally, I think she could do better. Then again, they wouldn't be bad together.” With the divine sorcerer’s willing-to-please nature and Lia’s incessant demands and high maintenance personality, it might work out better than intended. “I’m envious that you have so many siblings,” Klarinda says with a tender smile and you’re caught in surprise. You didn’t know it was possible she could be envious of you when you were envious of her in so many ways. “I’m an only child, so I’ve often wondered what it would’ve been like to have an older brother or younger sister. There’s nothing that beats family after all.” “You’re not missing out on much, trust me. Siblings can be quite annoying.” She laughs again. “Still, I think it would’ve been nice to belong to a bigger family.” A comfortable silence simmers as you follow after her and she moves to prune a plant. You break the quiet. “Actually, I was away from my family for quite a while. For a number of years.” “I thought you went adventuring for one year?” You shake your head. “They told everyone I went to go study arcane magic, but it isn’t true. I ran away and was gone for three.” Klarinda looks at you with a gentle expression, recognizing your solemnity. “What matters is that you’re here with them now.” You nod. “I don’t regret coming home. I’m glad I didn’t have to return when there was a funeral of my parents.” “Even if they’re overbearing?” she asks with a tiny smile. “Even if they’re overbearing,” you confirm. “You met Yoongi during your travels, right?” Immediately, you freeze, but she focuses on her plant, only stealing a simple glance at you. “He told me a lot about you from day one.” “Is that so?” “The engagement was a surprise to the both of us,” she murmurs, placing her shears down. “It happened less than a month ago. Suddenly my mother sat me down and told me about the arrangement. It was strange considering she had never spoken to me about it before and she’s never been one to make such an agreement. Anyway, a few minutes after I met Yoongi, he spoke about you. Rather fondly.” “Really?” You plaster on a polite smile. “Well, I’m flattered. He’s a great friend.” “Is he sincerely a friend to you?” Klarinda asks. Her gaze is piercing and you raise your guard. She’s going to threaten you — you know it. But you weren’t the one who made the decision and you don’t want any part of it. It doesn’t involve you. It never will. Having learnt from the best, your face becomes blank. “I am very happy that he’s finally engaged. He’s always been very popular, so settling down just seems right for him.” At once, the cleric grips her necklace. Against your will, she casts an enchantment spell and a fifteen foot radius sphere sweeps out from her. It keeps you inside. A zone of truth that prevents lies. “I’m sorry. But I need to know.” She looks at you solemnly. “Do you like Yoongi?” You cuss in Elvish underneath your breath. You can’t be deceptive, but you can still be evasive in your responses as long as it remains within the boundaries of the truth. “It’s not like I dislike him.” “Please be honest with me.” She searches your expression earnestly, pleading with you. Being with Yoongi has made you soft. You’re used to protecting your vulnerabilities until the end, but the truth spills from you as if it’s been dying to be said— “I’m in love with him.” The spell dissipates. Klarinda smiles. “Then I’ll call off the engagement.” “What?” “They can’t force me to do anything and I’d rather keep two great friends than having an unwilling husband for the rest of my life.” Her dimples crease. “I wouldn’t want that for him, myself or you.” “Wait! J-Just because I feel a certain way doesn’t mean he does or even that the engagement should be called off! This...this is something you should talk about with him, not me.” Her smile becomes sweeter. “Isn’t it obvious?” You blink at her. “Yoongi loves you too. What’s more that needs to be said?” The girl is so certain as if the answer has never been clearer. She’s a hopeless romantic. Utterly so. Someone who believes that love prevails above all and suddenly, you want to give into that urge as well. But before either of you can move, there’s a rumble beneath your feet. The ground itself tilts. Klarinda catches herself on the bench and you find your own balance. The pair of you tear your eyes away from one another to the roaring noise. The castle is shaking in its foundation. She notices the smoke that’s rising in the air. “Is...that fire?” Your eyes widen and you rush over, instincts screaming. The girl trails behind you and you pull yourself inside. There’s fire eating at the walls and you take your orb out, focusing your magic to snuff out the flames. To the best of your abilities, you extinguish it. Klarinda stays with you, using her own magic to try to aid you. “Sorcerer!” In the midst of the pandemonium, a familiar voice and form comes from the walls. Leo, the ghost, floats to your side. “I need your help. You must come with me. Please!” Klarinda’s eyes widen. But you don’t notice. “Don’t you see what’s going on?! I can’t help you!” The ghost vanishes. There is smoke filling the halls, flooding the corridors and you cover your mouth with the sleeve of your dress, coughing into it. Members from different factions are rushing past with their own weapons and shields, swords gripped or magic at their fingertips. There’s shouting above the chaos, but you don’t know what’s going on. Not until you enter the main room and find your mother and Taehyung. “Mom!” There’s a dracolich in the center of the circular room, towering high enough to graze the dome ceiling. It’s a monster — once a dragon until it became undead. Now what’s left of it is bones instead of flesh and blood, open eye sockets and decayed wings. But instead of being buried underneath the ground or burnt to ash, it’s come back to life, roaring and whipping its tail to a group of terrified, screaming wizards. There are several death knights as well. Decayed bodies with rotting flesh and pinpoints of light in place of eyes. They’re undead warriors who have revived, having once been rangers and barbarians until they fell. And one of them lunges at Taehyung until your mother casts finger of death, causing it searing pain and making it drop to its knees. Three rays of fire shoot past her, firing onto the death knight. She turns her head. “Y/N!” “Where’s Jin and Lia?” “They went to go find your father. He’s with the Duke!” Another death knight comes running forward with an axe and Taehyung screams before splashing a bubble of acid on it. A beat later, your mother’s grasp on her wand tightens and she sends a frigid beam of blue-white light streak on the monster. A coldness sweeps through the room and you follow up with casting firebolt. The monster has slowed down, barely staggering and obviously wounded. Yet, it tries to swing and misses Taehyung by a long shot. “Not bad,” you comment. “Hey, I’ve improved a lot since the last time you saw me fight!” A rectangular grin is plastered on Taehyung’s face. But the conversation is cut short by the dragonlich’s tail. He jumps away before he’s attacked and joins the other side where a paladin is fighting another monster. “Go!” Your mother shouts. “It’s too dangerous!” “I’m not leaving!” You don’t know where these undead creatures came from, how they even came alive again, or who revived them. There’s no time to think and in the midst of the anarchy, you’re trapped. Sheer seconds as you realize you’re about to be struck, but you’re unable to do anything. You merely brace for the impact. But the monster drops dead in front of you. Yoongi pulls his rapier out in one smooth tug, the silver blade slicing through the air. You gasp for air and he immediately engulfs you in an embrace. The man with the light blonde strands of hair holds you tight as your breath steadies and you savour his warmth. There are no words spoken, nothing that needs to be said that can’t be translated through his desperate yet affectionate gesture. “Sorcerer.” The moment can’t last long when you’re interrupted by the ghost. It floats to you and Yoongi is on guard, lifting the tip of his weapon. But you place a hand on his arm and he eases. “Listen to me.” You’re calm enough to finally pay attention, to hopefully be given answers. And answers are what he offers you. “There is a lich where the old castle resides. You must find the phylactery and destroy it before things become worse.” “A lich?!” Liches are among the worst creatures of humanity — undead spellcasters of great power. They’re creatures who traded in their souls for a chance to exist forever. There are untold treachery and blasphemies they’ve done just to become what they are. But they’re given immortality unless someone destroys their phylactery, an object that stores their life essences. Before you can ask any more questions, the ghost dissipates in thin air. Klarinda, who noticed the transparent form, runs to you. She grabs your hands and searches your expression. “What did the ghost say?!” “T-There’s a lich in the old castle!” “I know where that is!” The Dragonlich roars deafeningly as a warlock casts hold monster and it becomes paralyzed. At the same time, Yoongi pierces a death knight that was barreling towards you. You turn to your mother who gives a glance and she doesn’t even take a moment of hesitation. “Go!” She trusts your decisions — her gaze tells you that. Klarinda nods and Yoongi takes your hand. The two of you follow after her as she twists through the halls. “How did you come in contact with that ghost, Y/N?” “I don’t know. He was the one who approached me after the tournament and he’s been bothering me since yesterday.” Klarinda turns down the hall. “Do you know who that ghost is?” “He told me his name is Leo.” “He’s King Lionel,” she says and your brows raise. Yoongi doesn’t appear surprised either. He wears a solemn expression, having recognized him as well. “There was a section of his life in my history textbook of Pegan. This place used to be his castle.” You’re baffled, completely rendered speechless. She continues, “There was a rebellion a thousand years ago. This whole place burnt down, but it was rebuilt during my grandfather’s generation.” “Were there ever mentions of a lich? Or someone who traded their soul?” Yoongi shakes his head. “No.” “He never had a wife. But there were rumours that he had a mistress. A wizard from far away lands.” Your eyes meet Klarinda’s. “His kingdom was taken down before they could get married.” “But why now?” You’re running out of breath as she climbs a staircase. “If this...mistress traded in her soul a thousand years ago, why is she trying to revive dragons and knights now?” “It isn’t just now,” Klarinda murmurs, her brows drawn into a tight furrow and jaw clenched. “Members of the royal family in Pegan have gone missing for generations. They’ve always swept it under the carpet and kept it a secret, but I think I’m about to find out the reason.” The three of you turn another corner, but come to a grinding halt when you see a flailing lady. “Mother!” Duchess Jacquelyn is in the middle of the corridor, wearing a bountiful and extravagant gown while her arms are full of jewelry boxes, dangling strings of pearls and diamonds. One string slips from the pile and rolls on the cobblestone to your friend’s feet. “D-Darling! What a surprise! What’s going on? The noise has been startling me!” Klarinda steps forward. “What are you doing?” “T-This?! Nothing! I was just re-organizing! Yes. Reorganizing.” “That’s grandmother’s ring.” She points, eyes narrowed in. “You’ve never brought it out since her funeral.” “Well...sometimes change is needed, sweetheart.” They stare at one another while you exchange looks with Yoongi. There is a pregnant silence, tangible tension that’s suffocating. Then you notice how Duchess Jacquelyn slips her hand to her side and something glistens in your eyes, blinding your vision. Your mouth draws open. “You’re not my mother!” — “Watch out!” The dagger strikes her. Klarinda cries as the back of her right hand is sliced. Yet she grabs the opportunity and grips her necklace, her spellcasting object. The girl’s left hand comes out and she holds her mother’s double by the wrist, casting inflict wound. The creature screams horrifically in sheer agony. “What did you do to her?! Where is she?!” You grip your orb, casting scorching ray. One beam of fire hits it and it screeches. A moment later, Yoongi lifts his rapier and strikes it twice, causing the monster to stumble onto its back. Its weapon clacks out of reach. Klarinda grabs the dagger and holds the creature to the floor. She presses the blade to its throat. All traces of her kindness and mercy have dissipated in the face of her rage. “Where is she?!” “O-Okay! Okay! I surrender!” It puts up its hands and shifts. The form of the creature is no longer the beautiful, middle-aged Duchess but a tall, elven gray-skinned humanoid. Its face is formless and eyes are pale and bulging. Its voice croaks, “I’m a doppelganger! I didn’t have a choice! The lich made me do it!” “My mother!” Klarinda shrieks and you lower yourself, squeezing her shoulder and she eases. Tears have filled her eyes, but when she glances at you, she’s able to compose herself. “She’s dead. Her soul’s been consumed.” Klarinda breaks down into sobs. You wrap an arm around her and she lets up on the doppelganger, but Yoongi makes sure to keep his foot down on its shoulder. “We have to get it.” She wipes at her tears, teeth sinking into her bottom lip. “We have to kill that lich, Y/N!” “We will,” you promise her. “We will.” Seconds later, you see Jinha come forward and he rushes over trying to get a grasp of the situation. “Can you take care of this?” you ask and he easily agrees. “O-Of course, lady Y/N.” He binds up the doppelganger and Klarinda casts cure wounds on herself, healing her gash. She takes your hand afterwards and you hold it. Yet, even as her frame shakes, there’s determination in her steps. A type of anger that has solidified her resolve and given her courage. “This is the passageway.” She pushes open a small stone door to reveal a crawl space after Yoongi helped push a bookshelf to the side in the corner of the library. “I found it as a kid, but I never went in too far. The servants found me and they tried to cover it up.” The three of you crawl through before it opens up and Yoongi helps you down onto the landing. There is consuming darkness until Klarinda casts light onto the dagger she has and you ignite a flame to dance into your hand. The empty void is collected with cobwebs, spiders and eyes of bats staring back at you, quietly observing your forms. Each of your steps echo and a cloud of dust emerges. You move slowly, scared that the steps of the staircase winding downwards will collapse under your weight. But you’re able to look around, at the crumbling paintings, the fragmented pillar pieces, the stone walls with scorched markings, and the ancient statues long lost and eaten by time itself. Never would you have guessed that the basement of the castle held all of this. That they had rebuilt themselves on top of what was once the castle of the entire kingdom of Pegan. You can imagine what this would’ve been like a thousand years ago. Children running with servants scolding them, advisors walking by King Lionel’s side, his lover waiting for him. Then you envision the screams, the devouring fire. You can see the charred marks along the banister. You can almost hear it, but you quickly shake it off before you can become frightened. “Destroying the phylactery is the only way we can get rid of the lich without it coming back, but how will we know where it is or what it is?” It could be any object in any room. You turn with the flickering fire in your palm, looking all around you. It’s endless. “If that monster is down here, there has to be a reason,” Yoongi offers, standing by your side. “It could’ve moved anywhere but it might be protecting its phylactery.” “I know where it is.” There’s a low voice and a familiar ghost descends in front of you with a saddened smile. “Your highness.” Klarinda bows her head. But you remain still, even after knowing his identity. King Lionel looks at you with his brows knitted together. “I am sorry for deceiving you, dear sorcerer. Or rather, holding the truth from you. I feared you would have denied my request had I been forthright about it. In hindsight, I could’ve prevented the devastation that has wrecked this place. Had I only known….” “Do you know where the lich is? Or where the phylactery is?” “It is in the last place where I perished.” The King smiles. “In our chambers.” He turns, floating away and Klarinda follows. You and Yoongi trail behind her and when you feel the back of his hand grazing against yours, you grasp it. Yoongi looks at you and you release your held sigh. “Why is it that we always find ourselves in adventures like these?” “You mean these life or death scenarios?” The corner of his mouth curls and he squeezes your hand. “We always manage. But you should’ve told me that you were talking to a ghost.” “I don’t think we were on speaking terms until recently, duckling.” Yoongi grins at the nostalgic nickname, the one you used to start each letter, and your own smile is tinged with sadness. You don’t know if either of you will live. If the pair of you have it in you to be an actual hero and defeat the greatest monster. And as these doubts fill you, so do the regrets that you harbour for not hearing him out, for not trusting in him. With such little time, you wonder if this is it. If this will be your last opportunity. Your steps slow. “Yoongi. I—” “How dare you enter my lair?!” There’s a snarling voice resounding above and instantly, the ghost of King Lionel vanishes. Klarinda turns behind her and looks at you and Yoongi. The hall has ended with a crumbling stone door in front of her. “Leave!” The voice shrieks deafeningly into multiple layers. “Leave!” You nod at her and she pushes the door open. The dust billows out, sweeping in front of your forms. The fire in your hand smothers and the strong gust of wind pulls through your hair. You can’t open your eyes, so you shield yourself away. Yoongi feels his grasp on you loosen. Your touch fades away from him. He shouts after you until his throat is raw, but it’s to no avail. He scrambles blindly until he’s able to open his eyes and finds himself in an empty void of darkness. “I know your greatest fear.” There’s a whisper in his ear and he jolts, turning around while drawing his rapier. But there’s nothing there, not even a shapeless figure. “Min Yoongi. I have read your thoughts.” “I have read your mind,” a second voice crackles to his left. The right snicker. “Your greatest fear is betrayal of your loved one.” “Whether that would be no longer sharing your affections.” “Or choosing another person to be with.” “Get out of my head,” he commands from deep within his stomach, his impassivity ruined by the furrow of his brows. But Yoongi feels a cold breath on the nape of his neck. “A lick of poison from her would destroy you for good.” Fire. You see it in front of you as you’re collapsed on the floor. The orange and rose glow are illuminated on your face. You’re sitting so close it seems to lick at your cheeks. Yet you’re brought into a lull as you listen to the crackle and pop, as you allow the smoke to fill your senses. You’re brought in a trance as you watch the fire burn a house down, a quaint home with a picket white fence and large windows with pink curtains. “Your greatest strength is your greatest fear.” There’s a murmur in your ear. It’s unrecognizable. “I know,” you mumble. “You are afraid of one day no longer being able to control the flames that seethes to be unleashed.” “But repress it no longer, dear,” the left voice seductively whispers, hissing softly. “Worry no longer.” “Your magic is incredible and oozes from you.” — “Give into it.” — “Allow it freedom.” “What….about...Yoongi?” you ask, tearing your eyes away from the fire into the darkness. You stand back on your feet, finding balance again. “No.” There’s a sharp inhale to your right. “Leave him.” You scoff automatically, the idea so utterly ridiculous that it’s unfathomable. “I’m not going to do that. I finally found someone that doesn’t find me annoying….” “You could be powerful.” The more it talks, the more you’re coming to your senses. “I already am powerful!” You twist around, dispelling away the hallucination of the burning house with the flicker of your hand. “And I already know how to control my powers! You think I’m some kind of amateur sorcerer?! It doesn’t control me. I control it!” Again, you ignite a fire in your hand and narrow your eyes. In the distance, you catch strands of pale yellow. And you run after him. The voices scream for you to stop, but you fight against the magic that threatens to pull you back. The moment you smother out the flame, you leap at Yoongi. Your arms are thrown around him in an embrace and immediately, his hands wrap around you. Yoongi stumbles back with an infectious smile expanding into his cheeks. The spell dissipates and you find yourself back in the underground remains of the ancient castle. “Don’t let go of my hand again, brat.” “I’m sorry,” you mumble against his neck. Suddenly, there’s a piercing scream that ricochets through the air — one belonging to only Klarinda. You pull away from Yoongi, eyes locked into one another and he sets you down. Your fingers interlace and you follow the sound, turning down the hall once more and entering through the large double-doors to the decaying chambers. A frame of a bed sits in the wide expanse of the room, grayed cloth ripped and drifting over the canopy. Ash and soot sits in a layer on the floorboards, the wardrobe and vanity along the back wall destroyed. There’s a large painting on the wall, but the faces of the couple have been torn and scratched by bleeding fingernails. Your eyes sweep the room within seconds before landing on Klarinda who’s been blighted. She’s fallen over and you come to cover her with your body as you look upon the lich. It’s angular and skeletal with withering flesh stretched tightly across visible bones, dressed in regal finery, reddened drapes that once was vibrant. Yoongi’s knuckles turn white at his grip and he runs towards the creature. He misses, but hits on his second try, slashing it across. He surges forward, yet it does little to the lich that still stands. “Foolish children,” she hisses and grips the blade of Yoongi’s rapier, rendering him immobile. “You aren’t heroes. Your recklessness will bring forth your death. I will not spare you from the choices you have made.” You cast immolation and flames wreathe the lich. She lets go of Yoongi’s weapon and the light of your magic is so bright that you’re forced to look away. At the same time, Klarinda cures her wounds and slowly comes to her feet again. “Do you really think you could defeat me?!” The lich’s snarling voice booms across the room. Pinpoints of crimson light burn in the empty sockets of where her eyes were before they rotted away. She glides forward as if floating on water and a sphere of poisonous gas billows to all corners of the room. “Yoongi!” You cover your mouth with your hand and the yellow-green fog obscures your view. You hear the clanking of metal where he hits the lich and you feel your vision blurring from the poison. But as you narrow your eyes, you’re able to make out the faint shadow of the lich’s form. And a thin green ray springs from your pointing finger in the spell disintegrate, allowing you to hear it’s deafening shriek. You give permission for your phoenix magic to unleash and you’re magically twined in swirling fire, eyes glowing as hot coals. Your flesh sheds bright light into the fog. Behind you, Klarinda murmurs words of restoration and you feel yourself being healed from the poison. The lich is toying with you. You know it. The moment you stepped into here, it could’ve immediately killed any of you with a single word, but instead, it chose to manifest those hallucinations and slowly suffocate the three of you in this poison. The lich glides towards you, but is stopped by Yoongi. Before you can pull him out of the way, she lifts her finger, and he drops to his knees. He screams from the sheer agony that courses up his body. “Yoongi!” The lich casts detect thoughts on him, probing his brain, tearing apart bits and pieces of it. It hums and muses, “How selfless yet foolish. Even in this much pain, you are still thinking about how much you love her.” Yoongi grits his teeth, bumbling upwards to his feet and strikes the monster thrice. The force is enough that she staggers back and tense silence fills the air. You steal the opportunity and come forward next to Yoongi. Your palms press towards the monster to cast fireball, but the roar of the flames never comes. The lich has counterspelled it. Klarinda cries and runs forward with her dagger. “You killed my mother!” “And her soul was delicious to consume,” she snarls and grabs her blade, tossing it aside as if it were a toy. “Yours will be too!” Klarinda sobs as something catches the corner eye. But there’s no chance — not when the lich takes your spell of choice and magic blooms out of her thin fingertips. Fire blossoms from her flesh, thundering out in the force of her rage. You immediately turn to hug Yoongi, arms embracing his body to protect him. But when his hands reach to the back of your neck and he presses your face to his shoulder, you’re not sure who’s protecting who. Yet, the fire never reaches you. Even when it rumbles through the room and the ruins of the ancient castle. Even when the walls begin to crack further and fragments of the ceiling dust down. Even when scorching flames has filled every corner of the space. You raise your head, finding that the ghost of King Lionel is facing the lich. One of his last fragments of magic has been channeled into an aura of life spell, shielding the three of you away. “Enough, Karlis,” he calls out to her softly. “You have done enough harm.” “I thought I banished you!” she snarls out, crouched over as the pinpoints of red lights of her eyes glare at him. “I won’t leave without you.” “Why?!” The voice is jarring to your ears. “The girl you knew is long gone!” Neither of them notice Klarinda who staggers upwards towards the vanity in the corner, struggling to grab her dagger along the way. “Even so, I won’t leave her behind again. I won’t leave you behind. So come with me, Karlis. Leave your anger behind and come with me.” His arm outstretched but the monster cackles horrifically. “Foolish, man! I will not stop until I have destroyed the bloodline that ruined us.” “No one ruined us. It was I who ruled poorly, and you who chose to give up your soul and walk down this path by your lonesome in the wake of your grief. Karlis.” “Never!” she screeches and a gust of wind pushes him away. Then the lich screeches in torment. Klarinda digs the dagger’s blade into the heart shaped necklace on the vanity — the phylactery that holds the life force of the lich. She plunges the weapon several times until her arm strains, until the dagger’s curved against the vanity’s surface, until it slips from her trembling hand and she tosses it aside in the midst of tears. The lich’s bones collide against the floor. Her screams are audible around the room and the red clothing flutters in the air as it drops. You look away with Yoongi, but King Lionel gazes at her until the last moment. Gone. After centuries of terrorizing Pegan’s royal family, just like that. // The sunbeams pierce the sky in pastel shades, painting the clouds in watercolour hues. It breaks away the darkness of the night and the stars of the horizon. Klarinda is silent as she looks onward from the open arched window with her arms behind her back. But you know it’s not her. She’s been possessed by King Lionel, having granted his wish and allowed him to borrow her body. “My last duties as a King have been complete,” he murmurs in her voice. “My business is finished now that I know she hasn’t been left behind.” He turns to you and Yoongi with a dimpled smile. “Thank you. Sorcerer. Knight. Without your help, I wouldn’t have been able to free her from her own treachery.” “It’s not like you gave us much of a choice,” you mumble half-heartedly and he chuckles. “I guess I didn’t. I’m also sorry I’m not able to give you gold or any semblance of a reward when you have bestowed to me such a great favour.” “Having our lives is enough,” Yoongi says, bowing his head and you scoff lightly. The ghosts’ eyes twinkle as he looks at him and then to you. “You really do remind me of her,” he says. “But more strong-willed and self-assured. Something she had greatly missed and led her to her demise.” A sigh releases from him. “The world is blessed to have such great heroes.” The pair of you exchange expressions. “I’m not so sure about that….” You still don’t feel like heroes — he was the one who protected you and Klarinda was the one who destroyed the phylactery. Both you and Yoongi barely did anything other than waltz in there without a plan. In retrospect, that was probably a bad idea but there wasn’t really enough time to figure out battle tactics. Or at least that’s the excuse you’re going to hang onto. The ghost gives an all-knowing smile and turns to the horizon. “My time is here. Thank you for your help, heroes.” Within three seconds, he dissipated from her. Klarinda stumbles and is steadied by Yoongi. She smiles, thanking him before gazing at the pair of you. Two dimples are marked in each corner of her cheeks.

The chaos has come and gone. The moment the lich’s life source was destroyed, the monsters no longer swarmed and spawned on the grounds. The place is no longer haunted either. It’s finally what it looks like — simply, a castle. You came here to find the truth and to confront Yoongi — you never expected to encounter a ghost and a lich. It’s a wonder how it’s possible trouble can find you in so many ways no matter where you go. “Aren’t you cold?” A husky voice pipes up behind you and you’re brought out of your trance. Pale yellow hair joins your side, reminding you of ducklings. It’s still dawn, but you’re at the bottom steps of the garden's gazebo instead of seeking refuge on a soft bed. It was the only way you could get some peace and quiet from your siblings. “I’m never cold.” You turn to him, a fire flickering in your palm. Yoongi tenderly smiles. “How did speaking to Duke Fesan go?” “He’s bedridden, but he’ll make it. He wasn't too badly injured. But he’s grieving with his daughter.” You nod. “And your mother and father?” “They’re fine. A little shocked, but they’re using the opportunity to boast about me. A lot.” A laugh bubbles out of you. “Well, it’s not like they have no reason to. You’re amazing, Yoongi,” you breathe it out with a second thought, as if it were factual and you don’t notice his gaze on you. “How about your own family?” “They’re fine. My sister’s well enough to flirt with Jinha and my brothers are bickering loud enough to give my mom a headache,” you say and he hums. “But we’re leaving in a few hours. They already called the carriage for the afternoon.” “You’re heading back home?” You nod wordlessly. The tension is suffocating. You decide to break it, turning to him while masking a smile. “How was breaking the...other news to the Duke?” “Easier than one would expect. Klarinda asked to call off the wedding and the Duke said it was the doppelganger’s arrangement anyway. It was trying to amass as much wealth for itself as it could.” “That’s good.” “It is.” “Get that sorted and out of the way.” You steal a glance at Yoongi pathetically to find he has an impassive expression and is blankly looking onward. After a moment, he yawns tiredly and then his eyes flicker to you. Instantly, you divert your vision elsewhere, not noticing his smile. “You know,” he says, “the Duke thought it would be unfair to me. Even though it’s going to be called off, everyone already knows about the arrangement. It might be an opportunity for gossip to be made towards the Min faction.” “And what did you say?” “I said that I already had someone else in mind from the start.” Your eyes meet. Pools of deep brown locked into yours. Strands of his blonde hair nearly pricking into his lashes. And it’s an intimate moment as your voice quiets. “Did you really mean what you said on that boat ride. About regretting not asking me to come with you?” The man exhales, “Every day.” “A wedding with me would be awful,” you murmur, barely coherent. You feel how warmth rises to your face and heats your cheeks like a furnace, and for once, it’s not because of the magical fire inside your blood. “My mom would have to have a whole show and if you thought having three siblings was a lot, wait until you meet my cousins and extended family. They multiplied like damn rabbits.” Yoongi tries to put on a stoic face but fails. His grin is all too gummy. “I don’t mind. You haven’t met my brother yet, but he’s just as overbearing. And if anything, my mother would be ecstatic. She loves noble titles, so she’d hit it off with your mother.” “I still want that great big house.” “I would like one too.” “If you haven’t noticed, I really like my food burnt to a crisp like a fiend.” “I don’t mind.” He shrugs. “I always liked my meat especially cooked anyways.” “I’m a con artis—” “No matter what you say, I won’t change my mind, Y/N.” Yoongi’s brow cocks, challenging you straight on, albeit more gingerly than you’ve ever witnessed. “Your persuasions won’t work.” “Yoongi…” “You still owe me that refund.” What? He grins mischievously and you roll your eyes, having no idea why he’s bringing this up and ruining the moment. “Are you serious?” “Very. You scammed me over a year ago and I expect a full repayment. Also, I happen to collect interest. It’s a hefty, hefty interest fee.” “Okay.” You play along. “What do I owe you now?” You’re not sure what to expect. You’re never sure when it comes to him considering he’s so hard to read. But your breath hitches as he lowers himself to one knee and looks up at you with his tender features relaxed into the softest expression. He pulls something out of his pocket. “Nothing. It’ll be me who will owe you, if you would so graciously choose to spend your life with me—” You throw your arms around Yoongi. The both of you collapse onto the soft bed of grass and you giggle infectiously, pulling yourself up from him. “You’re an idiot, you know that? I really thought that for the rest of your life, you were just going to send me letters.” Yoongi grins a gummy smile. His arms wrap around your body and he reaches up to finally capture your lips on his. The two of you kiss each other, making up for the moments where you should’ve done it sooner. It’s sweet, but less than innocent with how eager it is. You only manage to pull away when out of the corner of your eye, you catch curtains shifting from upstairs. “Nosy, aren’t they,” Yoongi laughs. At the left window, your family is crowding around. Taehyung and Lia are shoving each other to get a look, Seokjin has his palms pressed against the glass, your father is grinning while your mother is absolutely astounded. At the right, both of Yoongi’s parents are peeking out owlishly. You see different members of the faction watching in both horror and confusion, having not yet heard of the news that the engagement is broken and assuming that they’re catching him in the midst of a scandal. But more importantly, you see Klarinda smiling infectiously at the top of the tower with her dad coming to look too. “Exciting, isn’t it?” Yoongi teases, “With so many guests watching.” “Is it so hard to get some damn privacy? This is why I prefer being on the move,” you whine and cast invisibility on the both of you. Yoongi laughs, closing the distance to kiss you again.

[Epilogue] “What if this is a trap.” “Then we’ll grab our weapons. But I don’t think it is.” There’s a house in the middle of the peaceful suburbs, placed in the middle of the street in a row of other homes. Built with bricks covered in render and an oak roof with a chimney on the side, it stands tall in a fairly asymmetrical pattern. The windows are large and it looks like the structure has two floors. More importantly, they swear they see the curtains shift on the left side. The two young adventurers step up on the wooden porch, facing the oak double doors. “Do we just….knock?” “I guess.” His fist raps against the surface while she braces herself for an attack. The door swings open. She hitches her breath, but an onslaught of offensive spells never happens. Instead, they see you. In a simple, brown dress and your hair braided in an updo with loose strands framing your full features. Your eyes glisten, giving a smile and the door widens. “Good afternoon! You children look so tired! Come in, come in!” The pair of them exchange expressions before stepping inside. The interior instantly takes their breath — cozy maple and fresh flowers at the entrance way, mementos on a shelf near the open staircase with a magical pull to them. It’s clear that the owners of this house have made it their own. They can tell each object carries its own meaning and memory, not merely for decoration or the purpose of luxury. “My name is Y/N,” you announce, with a light twinkle in your irises. “And I am a servant girl to the lord and lady of the house. May I ask who has entered the home?” “I-I am Park Jimin. It’s said that there’s a great and powerful sorcerer who lives here and a dark knight who’s been to Shadowfell.” “They’ve defeated dragons and liches before,” the girl beside him adds, brows furrowed as she regards you with a healthy amount of suspicion. “Well, it’s very nice to meet you. I’m afraid they’re not here at the moment. They went out to do some bidding, so you might have to wait a few hours until they return,” you inform and the two of them look at one another. “Can I ask for what reason you’re searching for them?” “We have received a prophecy and were sent by Mirla Nistar.” Jimin steps forward. “When lightning strikes twice, a man of darkness shall usher forth a country's doom and the end of wealth. We have reason to suspect that this man is the demon lord, Abraxas, who is trying to rise from Shadowfell.” You hum. “Alright. I’ll let them know as soon as they get back. Would any of you care for tea? I have the best honey and sugar available!” But suddenly, the dimpled boy feels a heavy weight on his mind. It’s a presence pressing on his brain, probing deep and whispering around the caverns of his skull for permission to be let inside. He grips his temples with a groan and his partner turns to him. “Jimin?” He looks off at you and she follows his line of sight. Before she can ask you what you just did, you slip something out of your pocket. In one split second— “Potion?” You hold up the stoppered bottle with the milky liquid sloshing inside. “You have a headache, don’t you? I know it when I see it! Must be from your long travels! Nothing like a rejuvenating potion to feel better.” “I..I’m alright.” Jimin lowers his hand. “Nonsense. You don’t want to miss this chance!” you emphasize. “I bet it wouldn’t even cost you a dime. You’re probably going to spend the same amount on some food or a place to stay at, so why not fork out some now? And it might be helpful for any upcoming adventures or expeditions!” “How much?” the skeptical girl slowly asks and you know you have it in the bag. “Ten gold pieces.” Your eyes glimmer. She digs into her satchel. But then— “What’s with the ruckus?” A rounded face and sleepy features lug down the stairs. He runs a hand through his baby yellow hair shagging in front of his forehead, having just woken up from a long nap. “Who are these people?” “They’re adventurers trying to defeat some demon punk—” “Demon lord,” the boy tries to correct. “—who’s apparently coming back to wreak havoc and steal children.” “Close enough,” he sighs. Yoongi makes a noise of acknowledgment, his expression impassive. Then his eyes dart at them and the potion in your hand. He points. “Are you trying to sell them that?” The corner of your mouth curls. “Maybe.” “Poor folks,” he exhales, utterly ruining your business transaction and not remorseful at all for it. “You’re going to get us into trouble one day.” You scoff. “When haven’t I gotten us into trouble. It’s not new news now.” Your husband grins and comes to sling an arm around your shoulder. He kisses you shamelessly in front of the two strangers, yet it’s a soft and tender gesture. It makes you smile against him. Suddenly, the door shuts behind them and the surrounding warm candlelight ignites. It billows a dim luminescence into the warm home that you’ve both made your own, glowing against the numerous mementos on the shelf that display the many years of your travels and journeys. Yoongi hugs you to his side and you quirk your head onto his shoulder with a sly smile. The adventurers finally come to recognize who the people in front of them are. And the pair of you turn to them. “What was it that you needed again?”

[dc41896]

Perfect

Hey guys👋🏾! So I saw in the video from the recent USO live chat that Chris said if he wasn’t acting, he’d be doing something where he has to work with his hands a lot and thus here we are lol! Hope you like it😊!

Pairing: Builder!Chris EvansxBlack Reader

⚠️: Slight angst, fluff

“Ohh this one is pretty! What do you think Ivy?,” you ask lying the lilac onesie against your swollen abdomen. With only a month left until your due date, you finally decided to try to organize your closet to accommodate her growing collection of clothes.

Although tiny, the amount of outfits and other supplies bought by you, your fiancé, and both sets of your family and friends warranted her own room really, but being stuck with your quaint one bedroom apartment the small plastic dresser in your closet would have to do.

“I’ll tell you this baby girl, you are definitely spoiled already.”

“And your grandparents wouldn’t have it any other way,” you hear from behind paired with the light thud of work boots hitting the floor. “Can’t blame them entirely though, me and your mom might have had something to do with that too.”

“You’re home early.”

“Yea the floors didn’t take as long as we thought they would.”

Kissing your cheek, he notices the box of diapers you were currently trying to move with your foot but not getting far. Bending down reaching for the cutout handle, he moves your hands beating you to the box before placing it with the others. “Here babe let me get that. Remember the doctor said-,”

“I know what he said Chris. I’m the one who told you what he said since you weren’t there remember?”

You didn’t mean for it to come out as bitter as it did, but you also couldn’t hide your frustration anymore. He was always a perfectionist when it came to his work. From the paint to the furniture placement, and even the plants outside, he never wanted a client to walk in seeing anything out of place or thinking he didn’t care about what he did.

You understood and loved how much he cared, but with your heightened emotions and the fact that this was a pretty important time in both of your lives, him not being there broke your heart a little more each time it happened.

“Y/N, I know I haven’t been around like I want to and I’m sorry, but it’s just I really want this house to be perfect.”

“I know you do, but I’d also like for you to actually see her moving on the screen rather than me tell you what happened. Or hear her heartbeat in person.”

Grabbing your sides, he gently pulls you closer bringing his calloused yet soft hands up to cradle your face and graze his thumbs against your cheek while peering into your eyes.

“I promise you things will be different as soon as everything’s done. Then I’ll be at every appointment and by your side so much you’ll be sick of me,” he smiles.

“You really shouldn’t make promises you can’t keep.” Sliding out of his grip, you make your way to the kitchen, hands rubbing the base of your belly as he follows close behind.

“It’s not my fault this all had to happen while you’re pregnant.”

“I know.”

“Really? Could’ve fooled me,” he sighs, back leaning against the counter watching you remove different items from the fridge trying to put something together for dinner.

There’s silence as you chop bell peppers to sauté in the pan slowly heating up on the stove. You could feel his eyes still on you though as you moved about getting different seasonings and other tools to help make your meal, but you refused to say a word.

“Guess I’ll go shower then,” he states under his breath ready to leave so you could have the space you clearly needed.

“What’s so different about this house?”

“What do you mean?”

“Every other build you’ve done you’re telling me any and every detail about it and even a little about who it’s for,” you explain still focused on the sizzling pan in front of you. “This one, you haven’t said one thing about it other than you finished the floors today. Then you’re rushing out the room to take secret calls and working later than usual, which makes me believe this house must be something special.”

“I haven’t really had the time to tell you since I’ve been so busy.”

“...sure you’re not just trying to bury yourself in your work?” Hearing your sniffles, he walks up behind you turning you around to see your glossy eyes as tears begin to fall. “I mean I know I’m a bit more emotional and probably more annoying-,”

“Shh, stop,” he softly speaks wiping away your tears and hugging you close to his body. “You’re not annoying and I’m definitely not burying myself in my work. If I could, I’d spend every second with you doing anything you want.”

“You say that now, but I’m sure you’d think different after.”

“Nope. Never.”

Bringing your hand up to his lips, he kisses the diamond on your finger before moving to your lips making them move together as if they were part of a passionate dance.

“You’re gonna make me burn dinner. Again,” you smile resting your forehead against his.

“Sorry,” he chuckles leaving one last peck on your lips. Letting you turn back around, his chin sits on your shoulder and hand lightly rubs up and down your belly as he helps with the remainder of the meal.

———

The following week, Chris finally finished the house and couldn’t wait to give you a tour through the bare home. He was practically glowing with excitement each day leading up to the weekend, when you both agreed he could show you.

Driving through busy streets and backroads shaded by canopy trees, you eventually arrive in the driveway of a grey house trimmed in white with pillars of the same color. On the wrap around porch sat two dark brown rocking chairs seemingly waiting for someone to rest in them, while bunches of orange and yellow chrysanthemums were planted in the flower beds just below it. Carefully stepping out of the black Ford truck, with his help, a small smile forms on your lips as you look from the building to your future husband.

“What?,” he shyly asks nervously fidgeting with his hands.

“Nothing, just amazed again by what you do. And also wondering what made you chose to plant my favorite flower?”

“Guess you were stuck on my mind,” he winks kissing your lips before grabbing your hand and leading you up the steps to the door.

Your footsteps against the dark hardwood and Chris’ voice echo throughout the empty house as he takes you to every room, noting how the furniture would be placed once it arrived and asking your opinion on how it would look. Walking down the hall, he points out the master and guest bedrooms pausing in front of the last door with his hand on the knob.

“I’ll tell you now, I did this room all by myself so go easy on me okay?,” he states making you giggle.

“Don’t worry, I’m sure it’s just as beautiful as the rest of the house.” Slowly opening the door, you notice it to be the only furnished room in the house with a grey crib, dresser, changing station, and cloth rocking chair all matching in color.

“Aww babe! Why didn’t you tell me they were expecting a baby too?”

Black butterfly stencils staggered along the pink wall above the crib, seeing the teddy bears placed on top of the changing table instantly draw your hands to your stomach as you become even more excited for your own bundle to come into the world.

“I uh also got them an extra little present from us,” he states opening the top drawer to reveal a folded baby blanket covered in clouds. “Think it’s okay?”

“Yea it’s-,” you start as you notice the shine of golden letters embroidered in the corner. Stepping closer to him, Chris can feel his heart pounding in his ears as he watches you read what’s been sewn on the blanket and look at him confused.

“Why does it have Ivy’s on it?”

“Because it’s hers, along with everything else in here.”

Words seemed to be something foreign to your brain as you continued to stare at the man in front of you wondering if he was being serious.

“Wha-? How-?”

“Grandma Peggy left this land to me in her will and I always planned to build a house on it but never got around to it. When little Ivy came in the picture though, I thought now was the perfect time.”

As you scan the room holding onto the blanket, he starts to feel a bit scared from your silence.

“W-We can always change stuff around though if you don’t like it,” he stammers rubbing the back of his neck. “Like maybe the crib can-,”

Unable to complete his words, he feels your arms wrap around his neck as your lips press against his moving in perfect sync.

“It’s perfect!”

“Really? You think so? It’s okay if you want to change anything I swear.”

“No I promise I love it how it is,” you giggle kissing him again. “I love everything, thank you.”

“You don’t have to thank me love. I’m gonna do anything I can for the both of you to make sure you’re taken care of, and nothing will stop that.”

“I know, which makes me feel worse about thinking you were purposely trying to stay away,” you sniffle looking down at the blanket in your hands.

“Well, it didn’t help that I wasn’t being as open as usual.”

“But still I shouldn’t have even let my mind go in that direction and I’m sorry.” Wiping your tears away, he lies your head on his chest rubbing soothing circles on your back.

“That’s in the past okay? Now we focus on what comes our way next,” he smiles to which you nod your head wrapping your arms around his waist and enjoying breathing in his scent as you both stand in the peaceful quiet.

“So you really love everything? Be honest.”

“So much that if I wasn’t pregnant, I probably would be in the morning,” you bite your lip looking up to see his raised brow and amused expression.

“Looks like you might be getting another sibling soon Ivy,” he whispers down towards your stomach making you laugh.

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[houseofhurricane]

ACOTAR Fic: Bloom & Bone (21/28) | Elain x Tamlin, Lucien x Vassa

Summary: Elain lies about a vision and winds up as the Night Court’s emissary to the Spring Court, trying to prevent the Dread Trove from falling into the wrong hands and wrestling with the gifts the Cauldron imparted when she was Made. Lucien, asked to join her, must contend with secrets about his mating bond. Meanwhile, Tamlin struggles to lead the Spring Court in the aftermath of the war with Hybern. And Vassa, the human queen in their midst, wrestles with the enchantment that turns her into a firebird by day, robbing her of the power of speech and human thought. Looming over all of them is uniquet peace in Prythian and the threat of Koschei, the death-god with unimaginable power. With powers both magical and monstrous, the quartet at the Spring Court will have to wrestle with their own natures and the evil that surrounds them. Will the struggle save their world, or doom it?

A/N: With Tamlin and Vassa on the brink of death, is there anything Elain can do to save them? You can find all previous chapters here, or read Bloom & Bone on AO3. Thank you for reading! ❤️ If you'd like to get an early preview on the next chapter, follow me on Instagram at @house.of.hurricane.

Elain has been pacing the Spring Court estate since Tamlin left, hours before dawn. Her fingers trembled so badly that Mor, come from the Night Court, was forced to button her dress, then forced Elain to sit while Mor held a cup of tea to her lips. Elain could taste the whisky in the mixture but accepted the burn in her throat without complaint, nodded when Mor told her it would be all right. She’d watched Tamlin in battle dozens of times, she said, and the Mother always protected him, you’d think a male so big would be an easy target, but Tamlin always knew exactly where to be, when to wield his magic or his sword or the shape of the beast. Mor’s babbling, Elain knows, and yet her musical voice is so soothing that it’s all she can do to keep herself from begging Mor to stay with her. But she’s here to guard Vassa, to winnow her if Koschei attacks.

She’s let Vassa down enough, Elain knows. She cannot allow her friend to be captured by Koschei, not after seeing what this second captivity has wrought, the way Vassa is crumbling.

So when the queen and the Morrigan go to the lake to await the sun, Elain stays in the estate with Lucien, alert to every sound. Finally, he retreats to the library after placing a spell on her that will alert him to the presence of another living being, and Elain takes to the halls again, her heels clicking on the marble and the old stone. Normally she would linger at the windows, comfort herself with the view of the flowers and her endless hypotheses about how to improve the garden, but now the blooms are a smear of color in her vision, refusing to become distinct and consoling.

She spends an hour in the kitchen, letting Cook boss her through the baking of the day’s bread, but eventually he shoos her away for over-kneading the dough.

If she had not promised Tamlin otherwise, she would go to the Autumn Court, no matter that the only places she knows are likely already in the thick of battle. If only she could see him for a few more moments, she thinks, striding through the estate one more time.

Mid-stride, the pain hits her. The agony begins on the left side of her torso, the place where her waist curves, and then it consumes Elain whole, a blaze of agony.

The pain makes her silent, drives her hands into fists so tight that blood seeps from between her fingers, from where her nails have punctured her palm.

“Lucien,” she breathes through the pain, though perhaps it is a scream, “someone has cast a spell on me.”

Though she can see no magic around her, detect nothing with her own powers. The attack from Koschei has begun, she realizes, and when she disappears out of the world, even though the pain remains, flaring and ebbing, she waits to hear his voice, feel the spark and crackle of his powers.

Instead she appears outside her room in Feyre and Rhys’s river house, and Rhys is muttering, “if you die like this, it’s going to look as if I killed you, and we both know this isn’t how I would kill you,” and then, despite the fire that clamps its jaws tighter on her, Elain runs until she reaches Tamlin, nearly falling out of Rhys’ arms. She knows exactly how far they’ve walked by the thick trail of blood, a shocking red against the gleaming floor.

“Get Madja,” she orders Rhys, reaching for Tamlin, a challenge in her eyes. She won’t ask what happened. There is no chance that Rhys would have left a losing battle with Tamlin instead of Cassian or Azriel. Which means that Tamlin had some plan he didn’t divulge to her. But she will be angry with him later.

Now, she only tells Rhys that she can bear Tamlin’s weight and braces herself for him, his head coming to rest on her shoulder, the blood of his injury warm on her hip. She presses her hand over the gash, walking him step by agonizing step to her bedroom, murmuring, you’re all right and hold on and please, Tamlin, please until none of those words have any meaning and her voice sounds like a shrill whine in her ears.

Finally, they reach the bedroom and she eases him as gently as she can onto her bed, pressing with all her might on his side, the magic in the wound sparking against her own. Koschei was behind this attack somehow, of this Elain is certain.

But as she presses on the wound, calling her magic up inside herself, willing it through her fingers in a golden glow, the pain in Elain’s side recedes.

She can still feel Tamlin’s blood, hot and throbbing against her palm, but Koschei’s magic is gone. All she can detect is Tamlin’s own magic, and Rhys’, where he tried his best to throw a patch on the damage.

There is still so much blood, though. Enough that a man would be dead. Elain has never much liked the sight or smell of blood, but she pushes through the bile that rises in her throat, presses her hands hard against Tamlin’s side, willing his blood to stay inside his body, for his own rapid healing to begin. Hoping it will be quick enough.

“You need to live,” she tells him, “because I want to scream at you for whatever made you decide to sacrifice yourself. And then I want to apologize for all the times I told you to do something, to lead your court. Because I didn’t realize it would hurt me so much to see you like this.”

She can still feel the warmth of the blood trying to escape his body, and Tamlin’s eyelids don’t so much as flutter. Despite his tan from so many hours spent outside, his skin is pale, going blue and gray, as if shadows have begun to claim him.

“I could’ve lived with the pain in my side,” she goes on, as if he had been listening to her, “but the pain in my heart at losing you is too much. I can follow you to the realm where the dead go, and if you die today you will find me in that world. But I want to know what it would be like to be with you in this world and unafraid. So you need to hold tight to whatever binds you here and live.”

She sets free a pulse of magic through him, not sure if it will do any good, but there is no answering gush of blood, and she hears a steadier breath leave Tamlin’s lungs. The seconds drag on and Elain holds her hands to the wound, alert to Koschei’s magic.

When the hand presses to the back of her neck, cool and dry, Elain screams.

Then she registers Madja’s scent, the calming herbs that seemed to have seeped into the healer’s skin.

With a practiced gesture, Madja slips her hands around Elain’s, then replaces them, pressing on the wound. Her magic, a white glow, surrounds Tamlin's side, spreads itself across his body.

“It is only his flesh that is harmed,” Madja says, and her voice is equal parts calming and annoyed. “I had thought from the state the High Lord was in, that there was a magical catastrophe of some kind.”

“Koschei’s magic was in the wound. It felt spiky and strange, like lightning in the air but more… evil, somehow.”

“There is nothing like that in this wound. Not even a trace of that kind of magic. I sense yours, and his, and the High Lord’s awful attempt at healing. It is as if that magic has not existed in this world, Lady.”

“You can call me Elain, Madja,” she responds, which is what she always tells the healer despite no evidence that Madja will listen, but behind her words, Elain’s mind is whirling. That she could remove Koschei’s magic from this world. There are a thousand things that she could do with that power, beginning with freeing Vassa from her curse.

She’s dimly aware of Madja’s magic as she wields it on Tamlin, knitting his flesh together, which Elain feels now in her own body, an easing inside her, the banishment of pain. She finds herself clutching at Tamlin’s hand, feeling the pulse at his wrist protesting her tight grip.

Yet inside, her mind works through the implications of this new facet of her power. This magic of Koschei’s was weaker than what she’d previously encountered, and untethered to Tamlin. It reminds her most of Beron’s magic when he interrupted the meeting of the other High Lords, and of course Koschei would have had to offer something to cement a continued alliance with the Autumn Court. Helion and Lucien could help her finesse her powers, will spend happy hours bickering over the best way to navigate the curse on Vassa.

This time, when she squeezes Tamlin’s hand, it’s because she is eager for all that awaits her, the unfolding of her plan. And this time, his fingers reach out and squeeze hers, and Elain can’t contain the little shout of joy that rises in her throat.

“Will he be all right?” she asks Madja.

“He will be weak for a few days while his body heals,” the healer says, applying a fragrant bandage to the wound, “but then it will be as if he were never harmed.”

Later, Elain will hear about the victory at the Autumn Court, how Eris claimed his throne and how Helion and the Lady of Autumn absconded to the Day Court, and joy will rise inside her, mixed with relief. But now, as Madja tightens the bandages and checks her handiwork, as color returns to Tamlin’s face, premature as it may be, this is when Elain rejoices.

&

&

&

Exhaustion robs Vassa of most of her capacity for celebration. When Elain and Tamlin are returned to the Spring Court after the battle by Rhys, who recounts everything that has happened to Lucien and Vassa and the Morrigan, who has remained faithful to her duties as a guard, the most Vassa can manage is a smile that reveals her teeth. She wants to lean in to Lucien, pillow her head with his shoulder, but even the idea of the pain of that gesture will involve robs the desire from her, sends her to the opposite corner of the couch, tucked into herself so that there is less of her to touch.

She wants to rejoice for Eris but she worries about the curse on him, which Lucien says resembles the architecture of her own. Koschei feels only a whisper away, the grip of his magic so strong that it seems as if his own hands brush against her, polluting her. But she does not have the resolve to point this out to the grinning members of the Night Court, not after Morrigan’s bright chatter kept her distracted all day, and Vassa does not have the capacity to tear at the fragile hope in Rhys’s eyes. She should have the strength to hold Lucien close and allow him to mourn or celebrate the deaths of his other brothers however he wants, but it’s as if a thousand sleepless nights now press in on her, painful and muffling, so that she can only think of what she requires in each moment. And the idea of holding Lucien close, letting his touch cause her pain, is beyond what Vassa can currently bear.

Instead, after Rhys and the Morrigan leave, she hovers at the threshold of Tamlin’s room, where Elain has carefully arranged him on the bed. Lucien has quickly established himself on a deep armchair, his feet propped up on a low table as he works on a worn parchment which Vassa knows quite well. It contains a detailed analysis of her curse.

“You don’t know if the bond played a role,” Lucien is saying to Elain, who looks up from the fragrant compress she’s laid on Tamlin’s forehead just long enough to wrinkle her nose in annoyance.

“Even if it did, I don’t see how this isn’t worth a try.”

“You’re very sure of yourself for someone who learned this power moments ago.”

“You’re exaggerating.”

“You know that Lucien is generally right,” Tamlin croaks, and the way Elain’s fingers reach for his jaw, trace the line the bones make under his skin, makes something clench, tender and jealous, inside Vassa.

She steps inside the room and they all turn towards her, her heavy human tread.

“Didn’t you always tell me that everyone underestimates Elain?” Vassa says, summoning levity to her voice, a wink towards Elain. She can tell from Lucien’s expression that he hears the strain anyway.

“I think that it is possible that I can break Koschei’s curse on you,” Elain says, in a voice that is sweet and adorably unsure, though Vassa is predisposed to give those words in any tone a rosy judgement.

“How?”

“Earlier, with my magic, I sent a spell of Koschei’s out of this world and into another. I think that I could do the same with your curse.”

“That was magic Koschei gave to my brother,” Lucien says. “My brothers were--”

“Your brothers were all powerful sons of two powerful High Fae, just like you.” Elain’s words shift between comfort and accusation, a tone Vassa recognizes. One she taught Elain herself.

“Try it now,” Vassa says, walking towards the bed and extending her hand toward Elain. She tilts her palm to the ceiling, the way a queen bestows her favor.

Then Elain steps off the bed and takes Vassa’s hand, and the pain cleaves her completely. It is as if her blood is boiling fire, as if there is an animal inside her, slashing at her with its teeth and claws, as if the world has turned to pandemonium and ragged screaming.

When Vassa finds herself on the floor, Elain and Lucien and Tamlin all staring at her, wide-eyed, she realizes that her throat is raw. That the screams were her own.

“I’m so sorry,” Elain says, and Vassa has to hold herself back from reaching for her.

Because as horrible as that pain was, when Elain reached out to her, there was an end to it. And the pain that Vassa endures every day feels endless, a life sentence.

She does not want to think about what it implies, that she wants Elain to grab her and hold on until the pain stops.

Instead, Vassa summons the depths of her will, assures her fae companions that she is all right, that she would like a few moments alone to collect herself, and manages to keep from collapsing until she reaches her own bed.

&

&

&

“You were going to rip her apart,” Lucien growls, as soon as Vassa is out of earshot, and for a moment Elain is actually afraid of him. She’s never heard him so full of wrath.

Still, she cannot help asking: “What did you see?”

“Did your magic keep you from hearing her screams?” There’s an edge in his voice that threatens tears, wrathful sobs. Still. She had felt the magic rise in her, the will. A possibility that seemed apart from Vassa’s torment. Even in spite of her friend’s suffering, the maelstrom of pain, Elain had almost kept her fingers wrapped in Vassa’s tight grip. Of course, she will not tell Lucien how her friend clung. Perhaps she will never reveal the extent of the queen’s desperation.

“You saw something else,” she says, trying to keep her voice steady. She feels Tamlin’s hand on hers, warmer than it was even moments ago, and the luck of it, the fact that he is here in his court and healing, makes her plunge onward. Because she has been trying to pretend that there is plenty of time to break Vassa’s curse, but that is clearly now a lie. “Tell me what you saw, Lucien, and we can try to fix it. We can go to Helion, or--”

Lucien interrupts her with a wave of his hand, lightning between his fingers. So powerful and yet completely unlike Koschei’s magic.

“That curse is interwoven with an essential part of Vassa. When you try to send it into another world, you are ripping that out of her.”

“Can you determine what part it was?”

Lucien’s face has gone pale, his lips yellow-white.

“It was her life, Elain. Her human life.”

“But that’s easy,” she says, not understanding his misery. “We’ll just summon the High Lords. Feyre was a human once.”

“Feyre saved our world and half the High Lords would still kill her to get that bit of their power back, if they didn’t believe she herself would destroy them in the process,” Tamlin says, the words between a groan and a sigh. “Now that they know the cost of such a miracle, you’ll never summon all of them. Not for a human queen who can offer them nothing.”

Elain is preparing a blistering retort when he reaches for her, squeezes her hand.

“If it were my decision alone, Vassa would already be High Fae.”

She dips her head and kisses him, a gentle press of lips that belies the furious workings of her mind. Because the moment Tamlin said her sister’s name, Elain’s own words to Feyre echoed in her mind. Your magic is something new entirely , she’d told Feyre. And isn’t it true of herself, too? Of Nesta?

“As soon as we can get a guard on this house,” she tells Lucien, “we go to the Night Court and then Helion. I have an idea.”

“I won’t let you kill Vassa,” he says, already halfway out the door, feet pointed in the direction of her room.

Elain only nods, doesn’t say that Vassa will surely die without her intervention. It would not be a kindness.

Instead, she turns back to the bed and smooths Tamlin’s hair away from his face, checking for signs of fever and too relieved when she finds none. She forgets, over and over, the fact that they aren’t human, that their lives are no longer so fragile, even in the thick of battle.

“You’re going to have to tell me why you weren’t shielding your forces,” she says, letting frustration suffuse her words.

“Helion and I went to rescue Cybele.” His eyes on hers are steady, no apology in them. “The Summer Court was better equipped to hold a shield against the Autumn Court’s fire.”

“So you had to be a hero?”

“You were angry when I hid in the forest,” he says, a sharp tone in his voice. “This is what it means, to be High Lord. To gain the peace you seek.”

His skin stands out against his white sheets now, and, had she not known the sight of him so well, Elain would think Tamlin unharmed. Still, she can see the exhaustion in his features, the pale cast to his skin.

“I didn’t know it would hurt so much,” she says, her voice breaking as soon as she meets his gaze. “I thought that you were going to die of that wound. That magic.”

“Now you know how it felt for me when Beron took you.” He reaches for her, his thumbs swiping away the tears that have fallen down her cheeks.

“Is it just the mating bond?”

“I--I sometimes think about what it would be, if you left this house. If you left me. The emptiness. And still I think I could… I think you’ve shown me how I could bear it, being alone. Anyway I probably deserve it.”

She lays herself carefully against him, avoiding his injured side, nestling close against his warmth.

“You are much better than I used to think,” she says.

“Better than I was. It isn’t much.” She hates that he won’t take the compliment. Accepting his flaws and failures is one thing, but this sorrow, in the face of his survival, still worries her.

“You were ready to sacrifice yourself for the Lady of Autumn. So that Helion could get away safe, and Rhys would be all right.”

“Who told you all that?” A confirmation in his eyes, the green gone bright as new leaves.

“Vassa was right when she said everyone underestimates me,” she says, taking his hand and sliding his fingers under the bodice of her gown. She does not want to talk about strategy or battle now. What she wants is far more than she can express in words. Not the desire for a man to protect her. More than the fervent kisses they exchange in other worlds. So many things in the world are awful, and Elain is tired and relieved and alive, and what she wants is Tamlin against her, inside of her, somehow still alive with her at the end of this day.

She stretches, allowing his hand to fall, cup her breast, and feels the heat rise in her at his harsh breath.

“I thought we were going to argue,” he says, his thumb pressed against her nipple. She can feel every movement, every hesitation.

“You’re alive,” she says, casting out with her magic to pull the door shut, leaning towards him so that her breasts swell against the neckline of her gown and his fingers are trapped against her soft flesh. “And I will have to go to the Night and Day Courts in the morning.”

In seconds, with his assistance, her dress is undone, landing on the floor with a muffled thump, her undergarments flung alongside, and then Elain reaches for Tamlin, pushing up the soft fabric of his shirt and running her fingers over his skin, the golden hair that’s light on his chest and thicker on his forearms, the muscles of his chest and abdomen, the cock that strains through his pants at the gentle exploration of her fingers.

She’s never touched him there before. She’s never dared.

His lips are on her neck, his teeth against the skin as his thumbs, featherlight, skim her breasts, teasing her soft skin, and she can’t help the moan she looses, the urgency of her own fingers, scrabbling between his back and the wall of pillows she’s constructed.

“Are you all right?” she asks, knowing that in a moment all semblance of consideration will desert her.

He pulls her against him and nods, but she feels his fingers going cold. She pulls her hands from behind him and cups her palms around his fingers, holding them above her heart.

“I’m alive,” he says, a growl edging the words, as if to distract her from the exhaustion in his words. “I’m alive thanks to your magic.”

“I’m never going to let you forget that.” She curls herself beside him, hoping he hears the promise in the words. The declaration in them.

With a groan, he reaches over and tucks the blankets around her, up to her chin, strokes his thumb across her lips.

“You saved me,” he says, and though the weight of the day bears down on her, a thick exhaustion, Elain can’t stop smiling.

&

&

&

Over the next week, the firebird flies less and less, and Vassa spends more of each night in her room, curled up on the bed. Though he tries to hide it, Lucien has taken to sleeping on the floor, rousing himself at the slightest motion before spending his days far away. They’re getting closer to figuring out how to break her curse, he tells her, but Vassa has to work to feign interest, let alone believe him.

In both her human and firebird forms, her body feels as if its wrapped tight with cotton and pain, everything muffled, everything a strain. Elain’s laughter is harsh against her ears, Lucien’s worried looks are cloying and overfilled with pity. She hates that she cannot bear them.

She finds herself, one night, in the doorway of the High Lord’s bedroom, where Tamlin has been forced to wait for his innards to knit themselves together again. Already he looks fully healed to Vassa, but Elain has compelled him to remain in bed and Tamlin is clearly too besotted to put up much resistance.

“I see Lucien and Elain are still away,” he says when she greets him, the words not quite as jovial as he intends. A creature like that, forced into confinement, never rests easy. “Elain barely sleeps. She thinks only of breaking your curse.”

“Do you think that there is hope?” Vassa does not ask about Lucien, who no longer speaks to her about the breaking of the curse, but who is away with Elain, and who stays awake puzzling at all hours over reams of parchment and obscure spellbooks that smell like centuries of dust. Vassa falls asleep and he is leaning over his desk, making annotations, and when she wakes before dawn, she keeps finding Lucien in the same position.

“I believe in Elain,” Tamlin says, his gaze landing on her so powerfully that Vassa is reminded of what it means to be a High Lord, “I think she is only beginning to realize her capabilities. If she says it can be done, I believe her.”

“I am not so sure. I think Lucien has lost hope.” She has not made this confession to Elain or to Lucien himself because she can imagine the vast sadness in their eyes, the onset of grief. That she would be lost to them.

Still, even the sadness in Tamlin’s face is enough to steal her breath. She, who was bred and raised to withstand armies.

“I think Lucien would sacrifice the world if it meant keeping you safe.”

“In the stories,” she says, leaning on the threshold, “you were not nearly so perceptive.”

“If the stories are true, they describe me rightly as a monster.”

“You sacrificed yourself at the Autumn Court. No monster of my acquaintance has ever been so noble.”

“I knew this court would go on without me. The stories say you were beloved in Scythia.”

“All I ever wanted was to rule,” she says, because a queen accepts a compliment gracefully, but it’s been so long since she was last among her people that she’s beginning to wonder if it is true. If the things she’s always thought she wanted are the things she truly wants, now.

“Before you return--” Tamlin begins, but he’s interrupted by a flurry of footsteps, the intake of breath that precedes Elain’s voice.

“We figured out how to break the curse!” she announces, a riot of joy as she sweeps into the room, careful not to make contact with Vassa.

Behind her, Lucien and her sisters take a more sedate walk, and before Vassa steels herself to meet Lucien’s eyes, she takes in the careful void of emotion on Feyre Cursebreaker’s face, as she walks into Tamlin’s bedroom. Vassa knows enough of Prythian gossip to know what a moment this is, even if the tableau is innocent, the High Lord convalescing and his gaze intent on Elain, all pride and delight.

“Is it true?” Vassa makes herself ask, wrenching her eyes on Lucien. The deep violet under his eyes.

She does not miss the look that passes between him and Elain, the weight of it.

Still, he nods.

“When I touch you,” Elain says, her voice gone serious, “the pain is unique because my magic is attempting to pull the curse out of this world and into another, where it cannot harm you. But as part of his adjustments to the spell, Koschei ensured that if I removed the spell, I would shatter your humanity. That’s why I couldn’t take you from this world. I would kill you.”

“I was Made High Fae under similar circumstances,” Feyre says, every inch the High Lady even in her sweater and leggings and boots scuffed with wear. “But after realizing that assembling the High Lords was unlikely, Elain thought that Nesta, who can Make and Unmake, and I, with power of the High Lords, might be able to approximate their capacities. We’ve been determining a theory and practicing the spell and its timing for the past week.”

“ Someone is too slow with her magic,” Nesta interjects, rolling her eyes towards Feyre even as she smiles at Vassa with the confidence of an alpha predator.

If Vassa hadn’t been listening so closely, that would have been the moment she thought that everything would be resolved.

But: “I would be High Fae?”

“The combination of your curse and our magic means that you would have to become something new,” Feyre says, in a voice she no doubt uses on her child when he is so tired that all he can do is sob. The way that Vassa feels now.

All her life, she was raised to be the human queen of Scythia. She had always envisioned herself returning to rule there for the rest of the years that remained to her. Because she grew up learning the history of the faeries of this world. Such a queen would never be recognized, would never be accepted.

She would no longer be Queen Vassa of Scythia. She would no longer be a firebird, or a cursed queen, or a human woman.

She would no longer live with this curse eating its way through her, the fire raging in her veins as it prepares to swallow her whole.

She turns to Lucien, meets his eyes for the first time since he walked in the room. Sees the despair in them, the fear, and the hope. And another emotion, which at this moment Vassa can hardly bear. Still, she does not look away from him, tries to etch his expression into her mind, so that she’ll never forget his russet and gold gaze, which sees everything that makes up this world, the lips she’s kissed a thousand times, the bronze skin and red-orange-gold of his hair. The jagged scar which only highlights the handsome angles of his face and makes him more dear to her, for everything that he’s survived. Her Lucien, with his clever remarks and the wit that makes her cackle with laughter, whispering secrets and endearments to her every night, who has always made her feel as if maybe it were possible to live under this curse, so long as her life was illuminated by his light.

“This magic could kill you,” he says, “or destroy you past the point of recovery.”

She thinks of what it felt like, when Elain touched her this last time. What she might become even if the Archeron sisters are successful.

“How much longer do I have if we do nothing?” She tries to stay calm, not to upset Lucien, but still the words feel jagged in her throat.

“It’s possible that Koschei could reverse the spell,” Elain says, “if we compel him.”

For the first time since she’s entered the room, Tamlin speaks.

“You will not offer yourself to the death-lord,” he growls.

Elain moves toward him, but Vassa reaches toward her first, her fingers grasping for Elain’s wrist. A bolt of pain that shocks through her. The kind of pain that carries its end within itself, which cannot last forever.

Vassa thinks, in a rush, of all those new years she might have with Lucien, should this plan succeed. All the nights where the pain of holding him has overwhelmed her. Who she might be, at the end of this. No more days trapped within the mind of the firebird, no more nights watching the life drip out of her. There will be pain, but maybe, after, there will be something new. A future she has never even allowed herself to imagine.

“Break the curse,” she says.

For the first time in a long while, she sounds like her rightful self.

[worldserasingandcreatinginmymind]

Home | Part Three

Pairing: 13!Doctor x Daughter!Reader, Master x Reader

Summary: The Master introduces you to his new creation 

Word Count: 2000 and something 

Warning: angsty stuff 

A/N: so this is basically the plot of The Timeless Child minus the whole Cyberman stuff that happened before they were on Gallifrey... hopefully it will make sense when you read it! As always spelling and grammar is not my strongest skill so please be kind :)

Part Two | Masterlist

- - - - -

“Y/N, the fam are awake so we need to be getting ready-” the Doctor stops taking when she steps out the TARDIS and realises you're no longer there. “Y/N? Y/N?!”

She walks around the outside of the TARDIS looking for you, but you're nowhere to be seen.

“Y/N!” She shouts louder “What do I always say? My number one rule? Don't wonder off! And what do they always do?” She huffs and goes back into the TARDIS. She turns on the screen and does a search of the planet. 

“Mornin’ Doc” Graham greets her cheerfully as he enters the control room, shortly followed by Ryan and Yaz.

“Come on, she has to be here somewhere” The Doc mutters under her breath, impatiently tapping her fingers on the desk “You know one of these days one of you will wonder off and I’ll just leave you.”

“What’s she talking about?” Ryan says to Graham who just shrugs. Yaz stands beside the Doctor and watches the monitor.

“What are you doing?” She asks

“Looking for Y/N. I left her outside on her own for a few minutes and she’s gone”

“Well then let’s get out there and look for her” Graham says, walking over to the door.

“No wait!” The Doctor rushes over and stands in front of the door. “Outside those doors is a planet I never wanted you to see. Any of you. Everyone who lived there is now dead and the planet is on fire”

“Then what are we waiting for, she could get hurt!” Graham protests

“The planet is huge, she could be anywhere. It would take us hours to find her which is why we need to wait for the scanner to pick her up and we’ll know exactly where she is.”

“Uh, Doctor? You said everyone on this planet is dead, right?” Yaz says, not taking her eyes off the screen.

“Yeah, they were all killed” 

“Then why is the scanner picking up on two life forms…”

The Doctor runs back to the control and stares at the screen, eyes wide. She watches the two dots on the screen, both in the Citadel. One completely still while the other paces around. 

“There can’t be. He killed them all. Unless…” she rushes to the door again and the others go to follow. She turns to look at them.

“You lot stay here”

“No way, we’re coming with you!” Yaz argues

“It’s not safe”

“Then you definitely shouldn’t be alone” Ryan says

“I’ll be fine. I know my way around this planet”

“But-” Yaz tries to protest but the Doctor cuts in

“Please, for once just stay in the TARDIS. Don't follow me.”

They reluctantly nod and she gives them one last look before leaving and shutting the door.

Yaz goes back to the monitor and watches as a new dot appears on the screen and begins travelling toward the Citadel.

“At least we can track her on here”

“I wonder what planet this is” Ryan joins Yaz at the screen

“I don't know but The Doc says she knows it well so I guess we have to trust her on this one” Graham says, taking a seat on the steps. 

— — — — 

Your eyes slowly flicker open and you find yourself lying on cold hard floor in the centre of a large dimly lit room. You sit up and wince as instantly pain rushes to your head. You bring your hand up to clutch where the pain throbs.

“Ouch, sorry about that” a male voice draws your attention, and the Master steps out from the darkness.

“Where am I?” You ask weakly

“Still on Gallifrey. Welcome to the Citadel” he extends his arms out and spins excitedly “This room was once filled with the most powerful and important Time Lords in the whole universe. Do you know where they are now? Cold storage” he lets out a loud maniacal laugh and you just observe him horrified.

“You killed them? They’re… they’re dead?” 

“For now”

“Oh of course it would be you wouldn’t it” a familiar voice fills you with relief and you turn to see The Doctor stood in the doorway at the top of the stairs. She looks to you, concern in her eyes “are you okay?” She asks you and you nod. She flashes you a brief small smile then turns her attention back to The Master as she descends the stairs. “What do you want this time? Hm? Was destroying this planet not enough for you?”

“That was just the beginning. The next part, well this is where it gets really good” he reaches into his pocket and pulls out a device. Instantly The Doctor is frozen in place within a white glowing cage, paralysed so she cant even move her head.

“NO!” You jump up and try to get to her but he points a device at you.

“I wouldn’t, if I were you” 

“Leave her out of this, you’ve got me you don't need to hurt her” The Doctor almost begs.

“Oh that’s sweet. You actually do care about her don't you” the Master slowly walks over to you, getting his face uncomfortably close to the side of yours. You keep your eyes fixed on the Doc, you don't dare turn to look at him. “Get on your knees” 

“Don’t-” The Doctor says but he just points his machine at you and repeats.

“Get. On. Your. Knees.” he growls in your ear and you obey.

“What’s my name?” He asks as he brings the device to your forehead.

“M-Master”

“I cant hear you!” He shouts” What’s my name?”

“Master” you say louder, your voice shaking. You close your eyes tightly, attempting to stop the tears from escaping as you wait to see what he’s going to do.

“You're obedient. That’s good. Now, stay!” He removes the device from your forehead and takes a step back, giving you a warning glance before he turns his attention to The Doctor. “I want to show you something Doctor, something I’ve been working on. You see, I like to experiment and I didn’t know what to do with all these bodies I had lying around so… I upgraded them. Formed an alliance with an old friend of yours to create a new hybrid species. In fact, they should be here any minute now”

In the distance you hear the sound of heavy footsteps getting closer. You look at The Doctor and for once she looks terrified. She mouths to you ‘I’m sorry’ and you feel panic rising in your chest. As the stomping gets closer and closer, filling the room with noise you turn your attention to the entrance in time to see metal men marching into the room in formation. They spread around the sides, completely trapping you in with them. They come to a stop and suddenly the room is silent. Your eyes dart around the room, taking them all in. The identical silver soldiers stand motionless watching you. 

“Welcome my friends! I have been waiting for this day for so long.  Do you like them Doctor? Y/N? What do you think? Shall we test it out?” He turns and addresses one of the men “shoot him” he points at another. The metal man turns his head to look at the Master, and even though his face is expressionless you can tell he’s questioning him. This angers the Master. “SHOOT HIM!” He erupts and the metal man obeys, turning and shooting the one stood next to him. 

“Good dog!” The Master laughs as the now dead man falls to the floor. “Dead. Wait, could it be…” 

The dead metal man is suddenly enveloped in golden light as the Master laughs “yes it could!”

The once dead man gets up off the floor and rejoins his place in the line up.

“Behold your new Cybermasters Doctor. All born from you, but led by me! How does that feel? Huh?” He glances over to you then back to her “How does it feel that your precious daughter is about to become one of them?” He clicks his fingers and two Cybermasters march to you and grab you by the arms, pulling you up off the floor.

“NO!” You scream.

“DON’T YOU DARE!” The Doctor yells and the Master walks over, coming face to face with you.

“I know you're scared” he wipes a tear from under your eye and strokes his hand over your cheek in an almost affectionate way “But they’ll take that all away”

“Please-” you beg

“I’m doing this for you Y/N, you're going to be invincible” he grins and waves his hand. The Cybermasters start walking, dragging you out kicking and screaming. The last thing you see as your carried out the room is The Doctor begging and pleading with The Master, who just smiles and waves at you. 

— — — — 

The Cybermasters lead you down long corridor after long corridor, ignoring your pleas for them to let you go. No matter how much you fight you cant free yourself from their iron grip. Eventually you arrive at a set of doors. One Cybermaster lets go of you and opens the door, while the other pushes you through in front of him into a freezing cold room. 

“You will wait here to be upgraded” one of them says before shutting the door, leaving you alone in the dimly lit cold room.

You look around and your heart sinks as you realise you're surrounded by bodies. These must be the leftover Time Lords that haven’t been “upgraded” yet. 

“Let me out!! Please!! Someone!!” You frantically try to open the door and when you fail you search the room for another way out. But it’s useless. You're trapped. With your back against the wall you slide down to the floor hugging your knees tightly trying to keep warm as you wait. You wander what the Master is doing, what the Doctor is going through. Will either of you be able to get out of this alive? Then your mind wanders to the fam? Where are they? Are they safe? Will you ever see them again? 

After some time you hear the dreaded sound of metal footsteps approaching and the door unlocking. A group of Cybermasters enter the room and start collecting some of the bodies. You stay completely still, frozen in place until one of them marches over to you and pulls you up from your seated position.

“You will be upgraded” 

“NO! Please-”

The Cybermaster ignores you and escorts you out of the room, following behind the procession of other Cybermasters. They lead you to another room where the first Cybermaster places a Time Lord body on the table. You watch in horror as they perform the upgrading process, knowing soon it will be your turn. With each successful upgrade your panic grows more and more until finally its your turn. 

The Cybermaster holding you pulls you forward toward the table as you kick, scream, beg, do anything you can to try to get away but its no use. You're laid on the table and restrained. You shut your eyes tight and focus on the happy memories you’ve made with The Doctor and the fam as you wait for the process to begin. 

Suddenly you hear gunfire and the grip on you is released. You open your eyes in shock and sit up to see all the Cybermasters lying on the floor, “dead”. Looking over to the door you see Ryan and Yaz stood holding guns. They smile at you as Graham pushes past them and runs to you, helping you down off the table. 

“Are you okay?” He asks, deeply concerned as he puts an arm around your shoulder and leads you away.

“Yeah” you reply, shaken up and very confused about what is happening “where did you get guns? Never mind, we need to move before they regenerate”

“Before they what?” Ryan says, looking over your shoulder as the golden light begins shining from them.

“I’ll explain later- we need to save The Doctor”

Part Four

[glassworkspiderlilies]

the earth shudders at the tower asunder (1/4)

Genshin Impact | Lumine & Aether | AO3 Summary: Not all gods have long memories.  (Primordial!Travelers AU, in which Lumine and Aether are not just gods, but amongst the oldest ones.) Notes: oops, forgot to post this here yesterday, so voila. approx 4.5k words. not a holiday fic, but happy holidays!

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Their first memories are these: the expanse of bright blue sky, the glow of gentle light. Their true names. Each other—recognition of you, me, brother, sister. We, us, together. 

And a voice, a soft, kind echo of stay together, now. 

It is a long time before they settle on names in the human tongue, but when they do, they cycle through many, though Aether and Lumine they tend to favor. In the early days, it is only the two of them. They learn to walk and run and fly together; they learn to speak, though in a language only the two of them understand, and more than half of it nonverbal regardless. Not long after, they learn to traverse through worlds too, though at first they did not realize they were doing so, having only crossed into open plains and isolated forests for some time. It is only until they are found by humans one day and taken in as spirits to be worshipped that they grow to be a little more like them through observation.

Two shimmering, golden twins who, somewhat inadvertently, brought fortune to the small village...it wasn't long before they were hailed as gods. 

The then-nameless twins decide to stay out of curiosity, and as they watch generations come and go, they learn about the blessings and trappings of mortality. There is still a barrier; they cannot feel wholly what it is their human friends feel, but they continue to learn, and recognize that perhaps, some things are not so different between them after all. Love, loyalty, joy…the villagers are eager to please their gods, and feel relief to see that pleasure reflected on the twins' faces. All this too is a language, and the twins are ever evolving. 

Life around them flourishes. The twins bend their surroundings to ways that please them: clear skies, warm sunlight, light breezes. An abundance of flowers and other flora. Bountiful harvests for the seeds sown. They read the earth and temper the ley lines, and the lives that they have come to lead, which in turn is that of the village's, is mild and peaceful. In the beginning there was only two of them, but since then they have gained much, and they are grateful for it. 

It does not last. 

The village grows into a town, and then a city. The times change, the people change, and the values change. The twins, now sequestered in their aging temple, watch and feel the energies shift. The earth groans, the ley lines diminishing slowly. The so-called god-twins haven't been forgotten, no, but the eyes that are turned upon them are hungrier, more calculating, and sometimes, even malicious. The priests that tend to them range in the service, too; in the past, they did not have priests, just friends who helped them of their own free will. Now, those who tend to the twins are either careless or fanatic. 

It is tiring. The world is no longer as they know it, and it is no longer comfortable to stay. But they have seen this city grow from the cluster of huts it used to be, and so, is it not what humans call “home”? But time continues to pass, and the energy continues to bubble and burst in unpleasant ways. What the twins can do for the people is no longer enough; their own values are too outdated, and what they are and aren't willing to do is not understood by humans who lead such different existences.

The twins have grown too mortal-seeming for the people to be intimidated by any aspect of them anymore. And so the day comes when an organized group breaks into the temple and shackles them, with the intentions of forcing them to do their bidding, for the good of the city, or so they say.

It is a new pain, the cold iron chafing their ankles and wrists, the spite turned towards them, the abandonment by many of those whose ancestors they could easily trace back to someone they liked. There is pain on their mortal flesh, too; if the men no longer believe in the gods, they do not think twice of striking them. That they bruise and bleed seems only to reinforce that they are not so special; there are others with abilities now, and the twins have not shown all their hands—and even less of them, with the times.

Lumine licks the blood from her lip and looks to her brother, who spits his own blood from his mouth.

They were born of the sky and light; they do not want to be contained like this.

They cannot, and will not be contained like this.

“This is no longer home,” the sister says, her eyes melancholy.

“Let’s go,” the brother says, his eyes angry, and the twins join hands.  

“Goodbye,” they say together, their voices—one wistful, one disgusted—echoing across the city, and in a shimmer of light and a puff of wind, the twin gods are gone.

The shackles hit the ground with a damning clatter.

They do not return, though many, moved by the farewell and feeling their abandonment, pray and hope for years after.

The changes in the city are not so explicit, but noticeable. There is a certain life missing in the city, a certain protection, and a certain watchful tenderness.

The people lament and regret their hubris, but it is too late.

By the time the civilization falls, the twins are past looking back.

Stay together, now.

The first lesson is the hardest. In the end, they only have each other.

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They are more careful, the next time they stay longer in a place. They traverse through several worlds before they decide to again, and it is because of a young boy who saved their life—or is under the impression he did, anyway—from animal traps in the woods.

It starts, as always, with a curiosity; the boy, Idris, excited by their foreign clothes and manners, wants so badly to hear their stories.

The other townspeople are warier of them, but as the twins get to know the boy by entertaining his requests, it is slowly revealed by his aborted sentences and the scars on his arm that his home life is…not good. He sneaks out to escape his family, and his talks with the travelers from places he’s never heard of before are the highlight of his life.  

They cannot take him with them. But they can, at least, stay.

Unfortunately, there is not much they can do for him besides tend to his wounds and keep his spirits up, but that is enough for Idris.

He grows from a boy to a teen, and then a young adult, and runs away from home. Aether and Lumine aid his escape, and the joy on Idris’ face as they shoot through the woods brings them joy that they had not felt so keenly in a long time.

Idris eventually grows to lead a simple, comfortable life at the edge of a faraway town. Aether is amused that Idris never tires of listening to his and Lumine’s stories, and that he even asks for some to be repeated. They spar with him and teach him better ways to defend himself so he is not subjugated again, the twins themselves having been taught by both peasants and masters alike as they traveled through worlds.

In turn, Idris teaches them to cook—properly, with pots and pans and assorted seasonings. He teaches them other recipes over the fire too, but the fascination the twins show with what he considers regular home cooking makes him laugh.

The three spend their days living as simple huntsmen, though Idris performs more of the day-to-day business transactions. Though the bond between the twins is—something sacred, Idris grows to be something of a brother, too. They note how easily he smiles and laughs now, compared to his reservation as a boy, as well as his growing strength and his eternal kindness, and are glad.

And then—he becomes King.

Soldiers come to their little house in peace, with a representative to explain Idris’ history. A child was lost in a storm and presumed dead, but the body was never found, though his mother the Queen’s was. The information was hidden by the first prince’s faction, who was quite a few years older, and already quite prepared to be heir. But a few months ago, the first prince had been assassinated, and the news that the second prince might still live was revealed due to the sudden lack of succession.

And so, a hunt was mounted, and now, finally succeeded.

His return to the King’s side is not a mere request to be denied, and so, pleading that Aether and Lumine go with him, they are all escorted to the royal castle posthaste.

As it turns out, the King does not have much time to live, hence the increased desperation to find his lost heir. Idris is, of course, baffled and confused, but there is an instant—and real—fondness between father and son, who have such little time between them, and surprisingly more in common than the first prince had with his father.

The King’s last days are filled with conversations with Idris, both personal and official. Idris is unprepared, but he has his father’s last minute lessons and his most trusted advisors, and—though in his heart, he thinks this position is not for him—he cannot back down from the expectations placed upon his shoulders.

No one knows what to do with the strange twins that come with him, but Idris’ first command is that they not be bothered. Aether and Lumine are free to do as they please—he is adamant about this, because he always, and continues, to know them as travelers, even if they have been with him for so long and grown near and dear to his heart.

The twins sense the distress at his position under the brave façade he puts on, however, and continue to stay, much to his relief. In their travels they have seen kings and queens and various types of rulers; though this is the first time they have truly spent their time in the company of one, they can, at the very least, share stories that may help, as they always have.

In time, they become King Idris’ closest and most trusted advisors. He becomes a wise and benevolent ruler with their assistance, the kingdom flourishes—and the air feels once more like home.

Yet—as years go on, the twins, no matter how venerable they are, begin to be regarded with wariness and suspicion.

They do not age.

For a long time, Idris had simply accorded it to good genes; there have been others who look younger than they are. His own Queen is one of them. But as he grows into a proper man while Aether and Lumine still look like adolescents…he would be a fool to continue making excuses.

Still, no one asks. The twins have served well, and have done nothing to give doubt to their character. If they are spirits or fae or gods, then it is in their better interest not to offend them by probing unnecessarily. This uneasiness and curiosity sinks into the background anyway when the Queen finally gives birth to her first child after many difficulties, and there is joy all around at the arrival of a new prince.

And then—war begins to brew.

Small skirmishes around the border begin to grow into larger battles. Villages on the outskirts are razed to the ground; hostages are taken. Full-scale invasion looms, and quickly the kingdom prepares to go to battle with their neighbor.

The King dons his armor, prepared to lead his armies, and yet…and yet—

He looks at his firstborn child with desperation. His Queen cries on his shoulder; the King is a good man and an able fighter, but he is no skilled warrior, and the tides of the battle are not optimistic. The few sorties he’s led are nothing compared to what is to come. Idris looks at his wife and child and wonders if he is a weak man for not wanting to die in battle, no matter how glorious the cause.

At night, after his son has been settled and his wife has fallen into a tearful, exhausted sleep, he prays.

He prays, and as he does, has a thought.

There is a tower that the twins favor, as it is the highest point in the castle. Oftentimes they have been seen perched precariously on the topmost point of its roof—and it is a mystery how they get there, every time. Some swear that they must have flown, but the twins have never been caught in the action, and so it had become something of a joke.

But…perhaps…it is not a jest, after all.

They are not on the roof when he finds them but on the balcony proper, and their eyes are somberly luminous in the moonlight. That they say nothing, their faces blank as they wait for him to speak, makes him nervous. Suddenly there is a gulf between them; they’d been so close for so much of his life, but as he became more comfortable in his role as king and confident in his own decisions, he had sought them out less and less. And now…now, he is about to ask the impossible, his heart beating so loudly surely they must hear it.

Idris licks his lips and steels himself, squaring his shoulders.

“Aether. Lumine. Will you go to war with me?”

A pause, and Lumine’s lips twist into a sardonic smile. It is a severe expression on her young face, but her eyes are much older than her appearance belies.

“That is not,” she begins quietly, “The true question you are asking, is it?”

Idris flinches as if slapped, and Aether leans against the balustrades with deceptive nonchalance.

“Well?” he prompts, his faint smile matching his sister’s, and Idris covers his face with his hands, the accumulating stress from the past few months crashing down upon him all at once.

“Forgive me,” he rasps out, his voice raw, “Will you fight this war for me? It’s true, what they say, isn’t it? You aren’t…aren’t human. Gods, perhaps. If it is you two, surely you could turn the tides. I have…I have my people to think about. And my wife and child. Call me selfish if you must, but I cannot…we cannot win this battle alone. I am desperate to keep the peace and prosperity we have built. We have come too far to lose it all now…and if this is my only option…I will beg for it if I have to. So please…”

His voice cracks, and tears prick at the corners of his eyes.

“I beg of you…save me and my kingdom from our fate.”

He lowers his head and waits, squeezing his eyes shut, the tears falling without reserve, afraid of what will come next.

“We will fight your war,” Lumine whispers.

Idris’ head snaps back up, gratitude on his tongue, but freezes when he catches her expression.

Sorrow.

“But it will be the last thing we do,” Aether adds, holding his gaze.

His face is grave, though there is no accusation.

Idris’ throat is tight.

“I understand,” he says, “Thank you.”

The twins walk past him without looking at him again, and the King feels his heart break. But the choice is made. He will not regret it.

He cannot.

(On the battlefield, too few moons later, the twins walk ahead of Idris’ main army and cross their swords with each other’s at the first wave of enemy soldiers.

“Turn back,” they call, voice echoing across the terrain, and of course it is met with crude jeers and hollers before the opposing army charges.

None think to question just why it is the twins’ voices carry so far, with the wind whistling sharply and the dark, cloudy sky rumbling with thunder.

Wings of shimmering light burst out of the twins’ backs; both the King, his soldiers, and the enemy gasp at the otherworldly sight, the charge slowing just for a moment.

“We gave our warning,” the twins say sadly, and the field erupts into light.

It is over quickly, all things considered. By the time the light fades completely, many of their opponents are dead, and the remaining stragglers who do not flee are taken care of swiftly with plain swordsmanship.

They grant mercy where they can.

Rain turns the ground to mud as the battle comes to an end, and the twins return to Idris’ side streaked in blood afterward.

“Goodbye,” they say, their voices flat.

Idris means to say—something. I’m sorry, or thank you, or I hope to see you again. But the words stick in his throat, and the twins walk past him once more. This time, when he turns, they are nowhere to be seen.

Gods, or a kingdom? Idris is only mortal, and so must make a mortal choice.

Love for his land, love for his people, love for his family…there are things he wants to protect.

The twins cannot fault him. After all, they would have chosen each other, too.

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But they sleep, for some years after that.

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(“You forgive them, don’t you?”

“Ah, Lumi…it’s not about forgiveness. It’s about letting it go. We just…aren’t mortal, right? What good will it do to carry it with us?”

A pause. She presses her lips together, then sighs.

“I can’t help if it hurts,” she admits, turning her face away, and Aether chuckles.

“Well,” he says, ruffling her hair, and she immediately reaches over to ruffle his in revenge, “If it displeases you so much, then just forget, little sister.”

“Don’t call me that,” she snaps, but her tone is merely mildly annoyed. The creation of his physical form a few scant questionable seconds before hers has been an age-old argument between them.  “Fine. I suppose you are meant to just…accept.”

“And it’s both of our so-called jobs to just be. Isn’t it? But if you can’t let go, then just let it be, and let time take care of it. We are made of time.”

A silence.

“Why are we here, Aether?”

He smiles. This, too, is a question his sister asks often.

“Why worry about it, when we already are? Come. The sun, the flowers, the air. Isn’t that enough to live for?”

Lumine doesn’t have an argument. She sighs again.

“So be it,” she says, with a faint smile. )

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When they wake, the landscapes are different, both earthly and spiritual. There are more spirits and gods and other celestial beings, and—

They don’t know if this is less lonely.

For a while it is, at least; the lesser spirits greet them mostly with fear or awe, and some brave ones with curiosity. (There is a small wind spirit that is unequivocally bold, circling around them for some months with brazen interest, and the twins miss its company as soon as it is gone. Wind is a free, fickle thing, after all; the twins had not expected it to stay, and the few months it was with them was already considered long.) The more powerful gods are wary, and greet them with respect and obedience, though not all are happy about it. The twins know not what it is they sense, that they think the two more powerful than them, but nor do they know enough to contest it. They travel, and roam, and bend the world in what they consider minor ways; surely these other newer gods can do more than that—and do what they hope is better by the humans who have grown more numerous. Many of these new gods have a people to watch over and guide with care—more than the twins can say for themselves.

Time passes, and the challengers begin to come.

The different gods of battle and weaponry and other such related things request duels. The twins win every time, for many years, treating these fights with polite amusement. Some take those losses with respect, others take it with anger, feeling belittled. But Aether and Lumine are not aggressive beings, so why should they respond with aggression?

Nonetheless, their behavior draws ire as year after year as they accept these duels and continue to win. Lumine’s style is clean and efficient, Aether’s is flashy and acrobatic. Those who are foolish enough to challenge them together see only a flash of light before they are flat on their backs, swords crossed at their necks.

“Must they persist?” Lumine asks her brother one day, as they start hiding from challengers.

Aether laughs.

“They must enjoy the challenge,” he says, spinning his blade, “It gives them something to live for, when life is so long.”

“And us?” Lumine asks, “What is there to challenge us?”

Aether pauses.

“Each other?” he says, grinning slyly. “Why, sister, if you wanted to lose, you need only ask.”

She throws her sword at him for that. He dodges as she summons her weapon back, and lunges forward just as her fingers close around the hilt.

They spar.

A mountain is flattened for their trouble, and the Lord of Mountains expresses his displeasure at them loudly, later. They take his scolding with good graces.

Making friends amongst gods is easier, truth be told; especially with the lesser ones. The Lady of Flowers and the Lord of Birds are among those they are closest to, the both of them having more placid natures, and also rulers of things the twins love best.

Among the stronger ones, they have a polite relationship with the God of Blizzards, and a slightly warmer one with The God of the Woods. The God of Storms they avoid, for he and the twins always seem to clash when they meet. They care not for the flavor of energy he cultivates, and he dislikes many things that are stronger than himself.

Somewhat surprisingly, they get along well with the newly minted God of Commerce, who is already starting to go by many names—including the God of War. He may be young, but his power grows at a rapid pace…and perhaps too quickly. Still, he is level-headed if sometimes rash, and the twins feel at ease watching someone be so sure of their place in the world.

Among the gods, even despite—or simply including—the annoyances, life is fuller. They share the same—or at the very least, similar—time; lasting friendships are formed, abilities are challenged and grow, and the twins laugh more easily in the skies.

And then, the gods start dying at the hands of one another.

Lesser gods go first, and it is a dark day when the twins see the Lady of Flowers wither away.

The God of Crags dies by their hand.

It accomplishes little, but nor can they bear to let such a thing go.

The cycle continues to turn, and grow more vicious; some spirits rise to power in these gruesome times, their potential unlocked by adversity. Some gods grow more powerful as they slay their friends and brethren.

As the Archons rise, the twins finally feel something new: their own abilities draining.

It is a disconcerting feeling. They retain the core of their abilities—their flight, their weapon-summoning, their attacks drawn from light. But something in their existence wavers, like a hazy mirage, and they know something within them is quickly being lost.

In their confusion, they retreat as far as they can from the continuing war between gods, and for a long time, are forgotten.

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Among their last memories of each other is this: their hands, grasping each other as they feel the pull of spiritual essence leaving them, whispering to each other don’t leave me, do not go without me.

We must stay together.

The nausea passes, and as they start traveling through worlds once again, they feel like they are running from something, instead.

It finds them anyway.

Teyvat is on the cusp of being consumed by war, and almost immediately after they touch down, they make the decision to leave. No, no more; enough of this. It sickens them, and they are already gathering the energy to shift elsewhere. However—

“Outlanders, your journey ends here.”

They do not know this god, but they can feel her power, and briefly, they think, perhaps, this is how others felt about them so long ago.

The twins summon their swords and their wings as the Unknown God attacks, weaving in and out of her red streaks coiling through the sky.

They are still very skilled, but they are aware: over the millennia, they have grown so weak.

And so, as decreed, their journey ends.

Lumine watches as Aether is swallowed up, and she screams for her brother when he meets her eyes in horror.

Stay together, now.

She doesn’t remember moving, already behind the white-haired god; lightning crackles in her hand, and she yells as she lunges with her blade, the sky exploding into fire upon impact.

She almost, almost grabs her brother’s small prison out of the Unknown God’s hand.

But she fails, and as Lumine too is swallowed up by black and red, she screams for her brother’s return as the red god watches on, mercilessly.

(After all, the gods do not listen to the ones who do not belong.)

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Lumine wakes, cold and alone—without her brother, without her wings, without her powers.

In the end, we only have each other.

But that’s not quite true, is it?

“Aether,” she whispers, trembling, her voice cracking.

How is it that there is more to the end, and without him? They were never meant to be separated. They were never meant to exist alone.

“Why are we here, Aether?”

“Why worry about it, when we already are? Come. The sun, the flowers, the air. Isn’t that enough to live for?”

The sun, the flowers, the air. The world tilts around her, and all she can see is utter darkness, despite the blazing sunlight.

She has lived long, and much of it among mortals. She has felt sorrow, and joy, and anger.

But for the first time, as she stares up at the sky, bereft of everything that has ever mattered to her, she feels crushing, consuming despair.

[heliosthegriffin]

Jaune’s Pulp Adventures!

I had an idea a while back, but I lost interest, anyway the premise is similar to one of my other ideas, where Jaune is teleporting between different dimensions. 

In this one Jaune would just be constantly teleported between absurd Conan the Barbarian-like scenarios to strange science fiction or even lovecraftion horror, all the while looking for way back to Remnant while becoming a hero in these other worlds. It wouldn’t be a crossover though, it would be as close to original content as possible in fanfic as possible, which sound’s kinda pretentious but whatever.

So here are so titles I came up with and plot summary.

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One: Jaune Arc, Slave of the Ger-viles! 

 - Summary: After a grueling battle to decide the fate of Remnant, Jaune Arc makes the final sacrifice to ensure the life of his friends, family, and world itself. But fate has yet stranger plans for him as he is left in a strange world, ruled by Faunus-like Gerbil-Men Sorcerers who have enslaved Humanity and their own Gerbil-Women!

He is trapped in a strange land with different laws and powers than his own, his souls is forced back into his body and he is overwhelmed by the Socerer-Kings of the Gerbil-Men, who see not a hero but human who would be among the strongest of their war-slaves!

He is thrown into a labor till he complies to their demands. Over the course of a month Jaune toils away at the camp moving tons of stone and protecting his fellow slaves from their malicious masters! His remnantian body even without aura is many times more powerful and durable than any standard human and willingly takes their punishment.

His courage inspires the Slaves and even catches the eyes of the beautiful daughter of the Sorcerer of Slave camp, a Gerbil-Woman. 

With her help, he forms a plan with his comrades to form a prison break.

Over the course of another month they strengthen their plan and make their move, succeeding.

This success leads to a string of more successes that allow them to free more slaves and evacuate to a the Free-Lands, a country free of the Sorcerer-Kings. They are welcome with open arms, and discover a surprise.

There is another sect of Sorcerer Gerbil-Men, but one that has been nearly destroyed by the Slave-Sorcerer’s. They believe sorcery should be free to all, but were naive and reduced to only three apprentices and a aging master.

The Master reveals to Jaune that source of their power and how it’s used, the stones they mined have magical properties, that the only way to defeat a Sorcerer is to destroy their catalyst and the larger the catalyst the more powerful the Sorcerer.

Jaune learns the basic’s of sorcery to defend himself from the Slave-Masters, join’s the resistance and they after a year of fighting, push them to the brink, leaving Jaune to fight the most powerful Sorcerer-Kings in a duel, winning by disarming the Sorcerer and then overpowering him.

Jaune then is left the most powerful man in the world, holding the most powerful catalyst in the world, leading the only army.

Jaune swallows and realizes for the first time in his life, he holds too much power. Jaune tries to break the catalyst but it’s is nigh-indestructible and cannot be left alone.

Jaune goes back to the resistance and tells them to tell the world that he perished due to his wounds, for it’s better for the world if man with so much power leaves.

They try to persuade him otherwise, but his heart his set. Jaune shares a night with Lady-Gerbil who helped him so much, then leaves using the catalyst to try and send himself back home.

.... A few months later a prodigy is born with unparalleled sorcery, physical might, charisma, and a golden heart, who leads the world into a golden age. But who, along with his mother, would always lament his father’s leaving.

Cover Art Idea: Jaune is on his knees, holding his face, eye’s glowing and  screaming in pain, dressed in rags highlighting his heroic build, as Three Sorcerers Gerbil-Men dressed in red cloaks with human-faces but gerbil-like ears and eyes blasting him beams of power coming off pale blue-white gems embedded inside gold circlets.

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Two: Jaune Arc and the Pirates of the Skyway!

Summary: After freeing the slaves of the Slave-Sorcerer Gerbile-Kings, Jaune has magically left the world and thrown himself across dimensions.

In doing so he has depowered his catalyst, leaving him with only his wits, willpower and muscle, his aura still sealed once again.

Jaune is left dropped on a floating island in the sky, and discovers a civilization not unlike his own with advanced technology that allows them to fly and navigate between floating islands.

Jaune is picked up by Merchants crossing the Sky-Ways, he vomits during his flight, but is also taught how to work a Wind-Skimmer, a Jet-Ski like vehicles that can fly through the air.

But they are attacked by Pirates on the Skyway!

Jaune helps them fight off the pirates who use advanced plasma side-arms and auto-guns, Jaune sending many of them plummeting to the poisonous earth beneath as he jumps between Wind-Skimmer after Wind-Skimmer.

But, The Pirates Leader, Cutlass Red has captured his benefactor and offers him a choice, either willingly submit as her hostage and they will leave, or She kills his benefactor and Jaune kills them all.

Jaune reluctantly agrees and the pirates leave with Jaune and much of the merchants cargo, but nearly half of the Cutlass’s pirates are dead by Jaune’s hands and actions.

Jaune is then forced to work for Cutlass for nearly two week before she decides to tell him her plan. Cutlass as been planning a heist out of the Sky-Father’s Temple, a temple of the long-dead sky-giants, but could not find anyway to get past the doors and deadly traps only movable by giants or those with the strength of one.

They go to the temple, and Jaune’s superhuman strength allows him to open the doors and stop the traps, while Cutlass and crew loot it for treasure.

Only for the ancient protectors of the Temple to come to life, causing a grueling battle that only leaves a handful of pirate alive, beside Jaune and Cutlass. With Jaune defeating the Protector by Mixing his combat prowess, swordsmanship and the Catalyst which’s power has been restored over time.

After Jaune defeats the last of the Protectors and the last of the living Pirates and Cutlass have looted the temple, he realizes he’s fulfilled his word, and now offers a ultimatum to Cutlass and her Crew, go straight and accept a geass too prevent them from doing evil again, or have Jaune destroy them.

They begrudgingly accept and take the Geass, Jaune then leaves satisfied, and the Cutlass Crew go straight.... But Jaune never said they couldn’t attack other pirates!

Cover Image: Jaune riding a Wind-Skimmer over a river of clouds as gunfire and plasma is shot at him, with Jaune shooting over his shoulder back at Pirates, with a blue sky above them and one pirate being shot off a Wind-Skimmer to his death.

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That’s all I have, I had a third story but forgot it, oh well.

Anyway, here’s a bit of lore for the story, Catalysts don’t recharge that’s why they have to be mined, but they’re are common enough the sun would go out before you used them all, as all they are is quartz crystal that adsorbed magic power, with the larger ones becoming more durable. 

The Sorcerer Kings were mining for high-powered catalysts for more power. Anyway, Jaune’s aura would eventually be revealed to have been unlocked during a later adventure, never actually sealed, just constantly drained by the Catalyst he wields, and would have actually recovered after the Catalyst refilled and he didn’t make any jumps for a while. During his time in the first story arc he was being drained by the empty catalyst as he subconsciously amps them, also explaining why during his time as a slave he always found larger catalyst crystals.

[lokislittlesigyn]

OG616 : Thor: The Dark World - Pt.2 [Isolation]

[My masterlist, where all parts of this and my other fics can be found]

Pairing: Loki / Sigyn (basically an oc based off the marvel/myth namesake)

Warnings: None. again, unless you want a warning for sad sigyn and loki

Author’s Note: This one’s a bit longer. Apologies in advance for me being such a horse girl, I can’t help myself.

Taglist: @high-functioning-lokipath , @onaheroicmission

To be added to the taglist, just ask me here or send a message! <3 ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

After Frigga left, Sigyn looked around her room. With the exception of her dirty riding boots off in the corner and a few books and papers lying around, the room was practically untouched, as intended.

What would he want?

She paced a moment. Stopped. The bed… She smoothed her fingertips over the soft, velvety bedspread. Deep sapphire, with silvery accents. She smiled slowly, thinking of countless lazy mornings spent under it. He’ll like this.

She turned, surveying the room. Think. What will he be doing? Probably lots of reading… I should send him books. Where does he like to read...

She looked to their set of chairs and accompanying footstools, which were covered in a similar soft, deep blue fabric. Perfect.

Sigyn gathered a few more things: The book he’d been reading before his fall. A pitcher of water - and one of his favorite wines. A book of spells. Finally, she grabbed a sheet of paper and wrote a short note before folding the paper and tucking it into one of the books. Perhaps she’d do this again, in the future - send him books with letters, little love notes reminding him that someway, somehow, they’d see each other again. She clutched the book to her chest.

~~~~

Later, Sigyn went to Frigga, explaining what she wanted sent to Loki. The queen assured her the items would reach him, and explained she’d arranged for a few other pieces to be sent. Namely a bed, and a washing stand. But before Sigyn left, Frigga stopped her.

“Child,” Frigga said.

Sigyn turned, facing her. “Yes?”

“Please, do not seek Loki out. The Allfather has forbade you do so.”

Sigyn exhaled, nodding. She’d guessed Odin would forbid it - he’d be a fool not to. But then, perhaps he was a fool to think he could keep her away from him…

“I know.”

Frigga looked at her pointedly. “Promise me you won’t go to him yet. For now, these gifts will have to do.”

Silence hung between them.

“Promise me, Sigyn. Please. If you want any chance of seeing him, you must be patient.”

Sigyn’s shoulders sunk slightly. She nodded. “I.. I promise. I’ll wait. I trust you to tell me when it’s.. Suitable.. To speak to him.”

Frigga stood a moment, considering her words. “Good. Thank you.”

~~~~

Loki stood in the center of a crisp, white room. It felt sterile. Cold. Contrasting with what sat in the room - a bed, which he supposed Frigga must have had sent. It was plain, only having sheets and a set of plain pillows atop it. Perhaps Odin would only allow so much comfort. Besides that, and a washing stand with a bowl of clean water, the only other thing in the room was himself.

He turned to his right, faced the glowing orange barrier that separated him from the outside world.

Would death have been better than this? This life, separated from everyone and everything? Hatred was better than apathy, that much he knew. But isolation…

Could he find solace in it?

The dungeon doors opened. A troop of Einherjar, accompanied by a few women - thralls, by the looks of it - walked to Loki’s cell.

“Stand back.” Tyr, the Einherjar leader and seasoned old warrior, held his sword at the ready. The sorcerer at Tyr’s side cast a spell, and the barrier slowly receded, fading like an ebbing tide. 

Loki smiled coyly and stepped back with his hands held aloft. “Why, I had no idea you’d bring me gifts..” He eyed the furniture they brought in, his brow furrowing slightly. That chair - one from his bedroom. His footstool. The women brought in water, wine, and fruit, all set on a table. Another woman placed a pile of blankets on his bed - no, not just any blankets. His blankets. Finally, another woman set two books in front of him and quickly backed away, behind the Einherjar whose spears were pointed at Loki’s throat. 

“How very generous.” Loki sneered at the warriors.

“These are not ours,” Tyr said as the sorcerer re-cast his spell. The barrier flowed back in place, seeming to solidify. “They are from your wife.” 

Loki merely watched him, refusing to give him the satisfaction of a reaction. Instead, he kept his jaw firm, his expression unwavering. “Send my regards.”

Tyr gave him a look. Without another word, the troop left, the heavy dungeon door shutting behind them with an echoing thunk.

Loki glanced at the food and water, only now realizing how hungry he was. Touched the back of the chair - still soft. Walked to the books, picking one up in each hand. The first, he recognized as one of his favorites - a book of spells he often reviewed. He sat it to the side. The second, he realized was a book he’d been reading through before, though had never finished…

He swallowed. Dragged his fingers along the old cover, then tugging the bookmark gently, he flipped it open to the page he’d left it at.

A piece of paper fell to the ground. He caught it just in time, standing back upright and setting the book aside to unfold the note. It was Sigyn’s handwriting.

My dear husband…

Words cannot express my love for you, nor the pain I have felt in your absence.

I cannot imagine the pain and anger you must feel. But believe me when I say, you are not alone. You are never alone. Mother and I are here for you. 

We will find a way to help you. And in time, we will be together again.

I love you.

Yours always,                             Sigyn

Loki’s gaze drifted up from the note, to the barrier of his cell, then beyond it to the door.

Out and to the left. Up, until you reached the main level of the palace. Then up again, with a few turns, would lead you to their room - it was safe there. A place entirely their own, calm and quiet and familiar. She’d be waiting there - waiting for him.

She was probably waiting now, after Odin demanded she be kept there.

Both of us in isolation.

Loki folded the note, tucking it back into the book, which he left on the table. He walked to the bed. Grabbing the blanket, he brought it up to his face - his fingers twitching into a fist as he did. It smelled like her, sweet and warm. He closed his eyes, breathing in the scent…

After a moment, he opened his eyes. Laid down on the bed, on his side, clutching the blanket in a tight embrace. 

~~~~

Weeks passed. Sigyn kept her promise to Frigga, never once daring to venture too close to the dungeons. Eventually, she grew bored of staying in the palace, where her good behavior would be on display for all the Einherjar, who were no doubt reporting her actions to the king. It had been long enough, hadn’t it? She could stand to leave the safety of Valaskjalf and venture into the city...

So one morning Sigyn slipped on her boots and sleek riding outfit and went to the stables. She could feel the Einherjar’s gaze follow her as she walked, as though expecting her to make a beeline for the dungeons. And as much as she desperately wanted to run down there as fast as her legs could carry her, she still had a promise to keep. She had to wait. 

She reached the stables just as the bleak morning gave way to golden sun. Breathed in the deep, calming scent of hay. She smiled.

“Princess,” A stablehand greeted her, walking one of the horses in from pasture. “Shall I saddle your horse?”

“I’ll saddle him, thank you.”

The boy nodded. “He’s out in the eastern paddock.”

Sigyn thanked him, making her way through the grand stable - a few friendly faces greeted her along the way, big brown and blue eyes turning her way, ears swiveling to catch her footsteps when she passed.

Out in the paddock stood her sturdy dapple grey horse, Villieldr. His name meant wildfire - a name which suited his free spirited nature. Next to him, a chestnut whose satiny coat shone the same color as rust: Sinir. Sinewy, his name meant, and his lean, muscular figure certainly reflected that. They were both geldings, and after so many rides together over the years, they’d become close stablemates.

“Sinir,” Sigyn cooed, and the chestnut turned her way, twitching his shoulder. Loki’s horse always had a soft spot for her. Villieldr walked out to meet Sigyn, his velvety muzzle blowing grass-scented air over her face. “Mm, I missed you too.” She giggled, gently pushing his nose away. 

Sinir ambled over, and Villieldr tilted his ears back at the approach.

“Hush, you baby.” Sigyn scratched under his chin, then turned to the chestnut. “Hello, friend. I’m sorry Loki hasn’t been around to see you… You must be missing him, too.” 

Sinir lowered his head as she stroked his neck.

“In fact… Forgive me, Vill, but I think Sinir needs some proper attention.”

After giving Sinir breakfast and a thorough brushing, then dressing him in the tack Loki had chosen for him, Sigyn eased into the saddle. She clicked her tongue, and he sprung forward, eager to finally be going somewhere. All the horses were allowed to roam the paddocks throughout the day on a regular rotation - and when necessary, stable hands would exercise them. But Sinir had, no doubt, been bored in his master’s absence. Loki was forever his favorite person.

Villieldr’s distraught whinnies carried over the wind. He was pacing at the portion of the paddock nearest to the entrance, snorting, with his ears pinned back.

“I’ll be back tomorrow!” Sigyn smiled despite herself when Villieldr whinnied again, and led Sinir down toward the city.

Through the streets they rode, past houses and merchants and taverns, down to the rainbow bridge. 

Sinir tensed beneath her when they approached the Bifrost, his trot growing choppy.

“Want to run?” She stood in the saddle, squeezing his sides - he didn’t need any other signals. Sinir moved into a hurried canter, then soon into a gallop, bouncing Sigyn down the bridge until she found his stride.

By the time they made it to the observatory, Sinir’s coat shone with sweat. 

“Ho,” Sigyn slowed him down, slipping out of the saddle once he was still. “What a brilliant boy you are,” Sigyn stroked his neck and he arched it, his head low. “Thank you for the ride.” She ground tied him, then walked into the Observatory.

“How fare the realms, Heimdall?”

The Gatekeeper stood with his back turned to her, staring out the grand window of the Observatory. Naturally, he wasn’t at all surprised by her approach. 

“Full of unrest, my lady. Raiders continue to pillage and plunder, souls are left lost without homes.”

Sigyn stopped next to him, crossing her arms. “I suppose there’s no way to help from here...”

“Einherjar have been dispatched across the realms. Prince Thor, as well.”

“And the Warriors Three?”

“Mm.” Heimdall nodded. “They fight bravely.”

“Do you see Midgard, Heimdall?”

“Of course.”

“How do they fare?”

“After the battle?”

Sigyn nodded.

“Humans are surprisingly resilient creatures - they will rebuild. Even now, Thor’s new friend Stark rebuilds his tower.”

“How far can you see, Heimdall?” She inched closer to the window, watching the vastness of the sky. Even during the day, Asgard’s light only shone so far into the endlessness of Yggdrasil. There before her lay an endless ocean of space, full of planets, galaxies, and nebulae. It felt as though if she leaned too far, she’d fall into it.

She stepped back, looking at Heimdall, who was now watching her.

“What is it you seek?” He asked, seeing right through her question.

“After Loki fell, did you see him? Were you able to see him at all?”

“No.. If I had, I would have told you as soon as I found he was alive.”

Sigyn shifted her weight. Wherever Loki was, for whatever reason he was with those creatures in that mysterious abyss, none of it could be good. Something must have happened there, something that inspired him to attack Midgard…

“What about now?”

Heimdall smirked. Turned, his gaze settling on Asgard. “Reading in his bed. He seems content, all things considered.”

Sigyn exhaled a relieved breath. “Thank you.. I may return, ask you to check on him from time to time..”

“I’d be happy to, my lady.” He offered a small nod as she left.

~~~~

That night, Sigyn sat at the table in her chambers. One half of the chair set was gone, now - thought the thought of Loki using his half of it made its absence easier to bear. 

She grabbed a fountain pen and a piece of parchment.

My love,

I took Sinir for a ride today. He misses you - as do I. Vill was less than enthusiastic about it, but he’ll come around. Perhaps you’re right about him being spoiled.

I hope you are enjoying the gifts, if you can call them that: they’re yours anyway, after all. 

Someday we’ll go for a ride together again. I’m sure of it.

         Yours,                                                               Sigyn

Sigyn folded the paper, slipping it into a book of poetry and setting it aside, to be given to Frigga in the morning. She glanced toward the bed. 

Empty.

It shouldn’t be empty. Not now, not when Loki was so close… 

“Promise me you won’t go to him yet.” Frigga’s words echoed in her head.

She had to be patient. But she wasn’t sure how much longer she could keep that promise…

Sigyn grabbed a blanket and settled back into the chair, closing her eyes.

[moeruhoshi]

Never Hit a Girl

Never hit a girl. His father told him that as soon as he met Erza. But Igneel learned that soon after, he probably couldn’t even land a hit on her if he tried.

Never hit a girl unless they’re Erza. It was a much easier rule for the fledgling to understand. He had no will to hit Levy or Juvia, even if they hit him first. There probably wouldn’t be another girl in this world that he would want to hit.

Or so he thought for a few years. But there was a girl, Lucy Heartfilia. She came to live in Magnolia when they were about nine or so.

It’s not like he saw her in the park one day and wanted to outright tackle her. She didn’t really come anywhere near him, anyhow. She was Cana’s friend, and over the years got closer to the other girls in their friend group.

Lucy wasn’t all that used to guys and was kind of scared of them after she saw them play-fighting in the park. So they didn’t push it with her and lived just kind of knowing her for a little while. Erza took that time in between them meeting to strengthen her up, of course. Because the guys weren’t so scary once they were cowering under your fist, so she said.

Per the redhead’s rule, they didn’t even try talking to her until she was ready.

It was strange for her to be wary even as the years went on, but Levy summed up a large part of it for them.

Even if she were still scared, she would have approached them eventually. Not two or three years, she was probably fine after about a week of seeing them around. But she had a strict dad that didn’t want her stepping out of line, so she made it apparent not to gain any male friends. For their safety and her own.

If Lucy were really all that terrified, she wouldn’t have made sure the guys got chocolates on Valentine’s Day. Or gifts on their birthday. Indirect things that Cana passed along.

It was sweet in an odd way, Natsu’s smile always turned up halfway when he got something from her.

She knew he was a dragon, so his snacks were always overly spicy.

By then, they were all fourteen, still unable to speak casually together.

That’s when Natsu started noticing these strange voices. They were his own inner thoughts, but at the same time they felt separate from him. Like a mischievous voice trying to coax him into doing something dangerous. Which he couldn’t help really wanting to do.

Back to the main point at hand, he didn’t just want to hit Lucy. It was a little weird, but he really wanted to wrestle with her.

And no, that wasn’t just some replacement word for sex.

He had heard how strong she was, how Erza had secretly trained her to become almost as deadly as herself. So he was curious.

If she could pin him, if he could pin her. How he’d block a punch of hers, if she could block one of his.

He wanted to wrestle her to the ground and just...let her toss him back on his ass.

What the fuck was that though? He was upset with that kind of thinking, so he did his best to ignore it. He was glad at these times that there wasn’t much between them.

She continued to stick close to the girls for the next couple of years, baking sweets for them, giving giri chocolates to be passed through Erza. Both Gray and Gajeel could admit they had a soft spot for her at this point. They wished it hadn’t been so hard to just have a simple hang. 

But they did one year, at a summer festival. Lucy’s father was out of town for the week that lined up with the yearly event, one she had never been able to attend before. 

Her staff pretended like they didn’t know where she was going or what she was doing, that being with her staying at Cana’s for the night before and after. 

They had a group chat, one Lucy couldn’t be a part of as her dad consistently read her texts. But the brunette let them all know that night that Lucy would be there and making a picnic lunch for their day out. 

They were sixteen when he realized he was in love.

Natsu thought that maybe it was just her food, the fact that she cooked like a goddess was fooling him into thinking it was attraction.

But it was surprisingly easy to talk to her, it was fun even. He felt like he’d really known her for years after a few conversations. Her smile churned his stomach, her scent swam down into him, making him purr and bristle excitedly. He looked at her with a swooned gaze whenever she turned away. And under the boom of the fireworks, she was the only thing sparkling that day.

Although, she did begin to glow a little when the moon rose, as she was a star fallen from the sky.

It was unfair that he couldn’t see her like this again, that he felt as though his heart was walking away from him.

But then, the voice returned, reminding him of that twisted urge.

He went to bed with a frown, unfortunately. It was better for them to be apart.

When they were seventeen, much had changed. They were seniors, almost adults. Maybe her father had decided to put some trust in her, or maybe he was tired of being so demanding. But she was able to choose her friends, as long as she wasn’t out past nine.

Natsu kept his distance. He could see the pain in her eyes whenever he made up an excuse to ditch the group, but he had to. Sometimes he felt like he couldn’t really control those thoughts. Sometimes they got so bad when she was around, he had to run away.

He told Gray and Gajeel after he almost got the shit beaten out of him for being such a jerk. His cousin understood. Luckily he and Levy were practically married, so his inner dragon wasn’t as much of a hassle.

The girls had to, unfortunately, live in the dark about the whole situation. Which only made for the best rants during their sleepovers.

Lucy wasn’t that upset, the girls were for her. If she had to think about it, she was just disappointed because she really wanted to get to know Natsu. Because maybe she liked him a little too. He was pretty cute, after all.

So things were as they were for a good amount of time, until one day, their classes combined for a session during P.E.

Natsu gulped as he stood across from Lucy in the gym, both awkwardly trying to avoid eye contact. He wanted to run over and ask the teacher to switch partners, but that would probably come off the wrong way. It was likely that Lucy already hated him for what he decided.

But he was scared. Their class was having a spar session, god knows why. It was pretty well known that most girls at this school could throw a punch that would knock you out so...? They were unfortunately never given a reason why.

“Should we...?” Lucy raised her fists a bit, shrugging with a soft smile on her lips.

“U-Um, sure,” He breathed steadily, his eyes seeing that most had begun to participate.

They weren’t wearing gloves so it wasn’t a true sparring match; he was figuring at this point that the teachers were just bored and wanted some entertainment.

He held himself back, blocking her strikes easily as it didn’t seem like she put much effort forth.

But he wanted her to. Wasn’t this the exact right time, the best opportunity for her to unleash her anger on him? Wasn’t she upset that he wasn’t near her? Didn’t she feel the pain of being apart in her heart?

Natsu shoved her a bit, unknowingly, which caused Lucy to stumble back. She pursed her lips and steadied her loose stance now.

“What was that for?” She asked with a bit of a whine.

“I saw an opening,” He shrugged, still doing his best to avoid her eyes.

She maneuvered a kick, sweeping it to catch Natsu behind his knees. He made a small shout, Lucy giggling as he landed on his butt.

“I saw an opening,” She shrugged, smiling down at the pouty glare Natsu flashed.

“Alright, lets go again,”

They both got more serious as Natsu stood up, his fire starting to bloom in his stomach. He was finally dating his odd desires, though he didn’t pay much attention to what his body was doing at the moment.

His scales began to fleck out on his skin, his eyes shifting into a more golden and shimmering shade. He failed to notice his tail pop out of his shorts, or the canines in his mouth stretch out ever so slightly. 

Lucy was too heated as well to notice much else about him, her drive to pin him down now much more important. 

He met every palm strike with a block, every kick with a shin slowing down her strike. She did the same, neither able to one up the other. Their sweat began to build, their teeth began to grit, students began to turn their heads when the room got a tad warm. But no one said anything. They were too interested, wondering if Lucy had what it took to take the fire dragon down. 

He growled when her strong scent caught under his nose, fuck, he loved how she smelled. Getting all worked up because of him, showing off her strength and presenting herself to him like this. He was crazy turned on, if the boner in his pants hadn’t made it obvious. But they were moving too quickly for anyone to notice.

He was having fun, if anything. He loved this, could do it any day of the week. Especially if he got to show off for her like this as well. He was a formidable opponent, right? Someone who was clearly able to match her speed, who was good enough to be the one to stand by her side. 

Natsu’s dragon was a little impatient, wanting more than just this back and forth, than the teasing they were engaging in. 

His tail subtly slithered up from behind, Lucy not noticing it until it wrapped around her upper thigh.

“Eek!” She stifled a small shriek as it dragged her to the floor, Natsu following to pin her down. “Hey that’s chea–” 

The blonde cut herself off when she felt something poke at her hips, suddenly flushed with embarrassment. It didn’t allow her much time to process anything else as the dragon swiftly lowered his lips to meet her own.

It wasn’t a smug peck like someone would have expected. It was warm, deep, and sensual right off the bat. 

He had a hand holding the back of her head steady while the other curled up in her open hand. 

His lips moved to smother hers before coaxing them to follow his lead. She didn’t know how to kiss, obviously, but briefly followed his lead out of curiosity. And the warmth of his lips was absolutely soothing. Lucy’s mind instantly felt hazy rather than alert, like she was being subdued into slumber.

“I love you,” He breathed out in a brief parting from her reddened lips. 

His tongue barely made it past them when suddenly, a large water cannon collided with his body and flung him into the nearby wall.

Juvia was flustered and staring at Gray with swoony eyes and weak legs. The winter sprite pretended not to see her making that face at him. Erza stood beside her and aimed her hand, an intense blush on her cheeks and a fuming gaze pointed at the soaked dragon.

“Just what the hell did you––Natsu!” The valkyrie shouted as the pink-haired boy quickly booked his ass out of a nearby window. 

He shuddered and felt his stomach sink, running back to the locker room to quickly change. 

How could he, did he have no control?! To get so lost in his own desires that he rubbed himself up against her and stole a kiss like that? His heart felt sick, like the fire ran through his veins had now gone cold. 

He ran out of the room after quickly stripping from his wet clothes, heading towards the other end of campus before flying away. 

He’d be found at home, but would rather have Erza kill him in his own bedroom instead of in front of the entire school.

So he waited painfully for his death, not even bothering to have a last meal with his parents that night. They were concerned but didn’t push him for answers. They figured it was enough to know that he was okay if they let in an absolutely fuming and enraged Erza Scarlet. But he was sure that the whole gang would be coming after him this time. Lucy probably cried...

His ears caught the ringing of a doorbell in the middle of the night; he hadn’t the will to enjoy a peaceful sleep either. His stomach turned, but he forced himself out of bed, not wanting his parents to be bothered with this whole ordeal. 

They’d probably drag him out to the park, if they were here this late. Knock him the fuck out and hang him up in a tree with pervert written in calligraphy ink on his chest. 

He opened the door with his head hung low, expecting to be grabbed and manhandled right away. 

The light clearing of a throat surprised him, he knew that voice.

“L-Lucy? What’re you doing here this late?” He asked, quickly shutting the door behind him. He felt a little odd standing there in a zip up hoodie and loose sweatpants while she was in an oversized tee an practically nonexistent shorts. 

“I snuck out and had Cana drop me off,” She said, looking over her shoulder to the brunette parked down the street on her motorcycle. “She said I should come see you, and I really wanted to, actually.”

“Eh? Really?” He was surprised, but figured she just came to punch him out and to stay the hell away from her for the rest of her life. It pained him to think as much, but he deserved it. 

“I...well, I just,” She blushed and shuddered as the wind rolled over her arms. “I wanted to know if you meant what you said to me earlier.”

“What did I say?” He wasn’t really sure, since it hadn’t really been him that was there. He remembered what had gotten him riled up and the brief aftermath, but...

“You said that you loved me.” She said matter of factly, refusing to look away from his darting gaze.

“I––”

“Either you meant it or you didn’t, just tell me,” There was a twinge of sadness in her voice, the slightest but most audible octave she could have reached. His nose caught scent of starter tears, her eyes beginning to slowly wet. 

“I meant it!” He quickly confessed, afraid that he’d have to see her cry. “Since that summer festival we all went to. I love you, but I didn’t mean to do all that today, really I––”

“Then why have you been avoiding me? Wouldn’t you have wanted to be my friend?” She was now frustrated and stomped her foot a bit. He thought it was cute.

“I did, I mean it, Luce. But I couldn’t when I thought about such weird things about you. I didn’t want to freak you out,” He breathed out, embarrassed but he jumped over that hurdle to be honest. Natsu wasn’t sure why, but it felt like an instinct. He had to be upfront with her, absolutley no lies or she’d never trust him.

“Weird things?” Her cheeks were a bashful pink, lips pulled together as she grasped her hands against them.

“I don’t think I should go into too much detail,” He chuckled slightly. “But I was just scared of hurtin’ ya. Honest.”

“Well,” Lucy quickly leaned forward to peck him on the cheek. “You won’t so, I’ll see you at school tomorrow, okay?”

She started back down towards the street before he could answer, the dragon looking out into the night with a shocked expression on his face. He held his cheek and turned to look at her, his eyes fixated on her hands as they rubbed her goosebump covered arms. 

“Wait!” He called out and swiftly undid his jacket. Natsu handed it off as he jogged to catch up to her. “I don’t want ya to be cold,”

“Thank you,” They shared a shy smile before turning away to head home, their hearts both warm with resolve.

[inigofication]

Soleil Masterpost, Sessions 17.5-24

An INCREDIBLY long and detailed catch-up post with how Soleil has been doing!

Session 17.5 (one shot with 2/3 party members)

In the midst of some chaos, Soleil is taking care of the group’s spaceship when a priestess of Erathis shows herself to Soleil, knocking her off her feet and tells her “Your brother still lives. Head to the Far Reaches.” Until now, Soleil thought her brother was dead- clings onto the idea that the Far Reaches is around Pluto (because of what she learned in school as a space pilot). Her and her gang are currently on Mars.

Soleil and fellow pc Hazel hang out at their ship together, Hazel accidentally sets off the hyperdrive and sends them to a magic school made at the beginning of time. Eventually discover that the place is being ran by someone named “The Master”, who is a passed out, scrawny, 19 year old kid that looks interestingly like one of our friend NPCS- possibly his son? Also, we accidentally take a cosmic being back to the present with us and we discover a message from the Master asking for Hazel’s dad.

Session 18

Soleil and Hazel use a scrying orb together to find out that Soleil’s uncle (who she recently learned is a alive) hired a succubus to find Soleil for him, and now said succubus is accompanied with a cultist and a vampire while they track us

Fellow pc Lorelle and Soleil have a shared gay moment over Hazel 👍

Session 19

Soleil discovers that she can’t use Message on her uncle because his appearance has changed so heavily from when she last saw him that it doesn’t work

Soleil tries contacting her brother for the first time. Hears back, “Move to the Eastern flank! All squadrons down! [+ continuous laser fire]” However, all she gets from him is that same message, looping over and over again until the spell ends. Weird, but not confusing; Soleil realizes they might be too far for their Message radio to properly reach him

Soleil full name reveal! A space station that they head for asks for her name, rank, and affiliation: Soleil Aimee Mercier, Rank Pathfinder, Project Neudon

After landing, the AI asks Soleil if she’s heard anything from the Far Reaches Movement; it’s purpose was to seek out exoplanets, train for eventual colonization, etc. The station was told to stay radio silent unless FRM reached out to them first- the AI sent us a distress call regardless because the station was losing power

The AI has Lucas’ (her brother’s) information in it’s database, but Soleil didn’t have high enough clearance to access it

We go to a city called Becon, meet Hazel’s father, and Soleil befriends one of his agents named Dahlia, a character I played in a one-shot previously! :)

Big combat time, the priestess of Erathis shows herself again, Soleil asks if she knows anything else about Lucas and the priestess states that she knows nothing else, only that Erathis herself asked for the message from prior to be passed on

Soleil and Lorelle later get the confirmation that their NPC friend Tomas is in fact a time traveler! Explains how his son(?) the Master may have been able to get to the start of time

Tomas reveals that he knows NOTHING about Soleil in his timeline, so he worries that he’s responsible for what happened to Soleil’s ship and for trapping her here in this timeline instead of hers.

Session 20

Hazel talks a plan with Soleil; instead of running from the succubus tracking them, we could let her find us because she would tell us where Soleil’s uncle is, and we could reunite with him

Soleil and Lorelle are roped into spying on a “not-date” that Hazel and Tomas go on, Lorelle interrogates Sol about maybe having a crush on Hazel

Since they’re at a tavern, Soleil spends the rest of that night drinking with Hazel’s dad’s agents (Dahlia & co). One of them, Eleven, propositions her and Soleil leaves in a very drunk and flustered state

Sol has never been to Becon and of course, in her drunken stupor, gets very lost in the city on her way to the spaceship. She wanders aimlessly before stopping on a bridge, and Sinnafex shows himself to Soleil to talk; he’s getting restless, wants to do some CRIME! Soleil blabbers on about how their relationship is a two-way street and she can’t do everything he says, and in her state, even goes to far as to call them friends (he begrudgingly agrees). He also agrees to be patient with her and Soleil sees something she hasn’t seen in awhile- the manifestations of butterflies that are on her arms.

She follows the trail of them to an alley way with a young lady crying at the end of it. Doesn’t get her name, but learns that she ran away from home, and didn’t like all the expectations put upon her, so Soleil saw herself in her. When the city guards showed up, Sol asks her if she still wants to leave- Sol’s identity gets obscured as Sinnafex covers her body in webs as she scoops up the woman to make a break for it

SOLEIL ACCIDENTALLY STOLE AWAY THE CROWN PRINCESS OF BECON (which Sol had no idea of until Hazel and Lorelle told her)

Session 21

Soleil has a dream, set in a dead world by every definition- broken skyscrapers, burnt fields, and everything is frozen in time as a cosmos storms above her, and eyes of radiant light shine down. They speak to her, calling her a Child of Tlachtli, and ask if she’s ready for the end. When Sol says no, they say to prepare for it or else she’ll end with it; this is the destiny of all living things. She is told she can only stop it by stopping the sun from rising; it’s impossible. She “cannot cheat destiny. [She] is not [her] mother.” Soleil wakes up after, taking it all in and wondering what her mom could have done

Surprise! The succubus and vampire get the jump on Lorelle and Soleil at the ship! Meanwhile, the cultist causes havoc at a temple of Pelor with Hazel

Soleil in her frustration accidentally kills the succubus, so resorts to keeping the vampire alive to get information from him instead

Session 22

Soleil realizes Lorelle left and meets both of them at the temple to be met with a horrible scene; Lorelle and Hazel’s families frozen in time by the now dead cultist. She comforts Lorelle while she cries.

A few days later, while Lorelle and Hazel are HEAVILY bickering, Soleil sees a sign of one of their acquaintances- a golden canary lands on her shoulder. She lets it guide her away from the other two until they reach the bottom of one of the city’s mountains, arrive at what looks like more of a fortress than a temple

More canaries appear and they let her into the space; it’s empty, full of blue fire torches and suits of armor. Soleil feels the thrumming presence of Sinnafex still in the Silken Spite. The canaries land on Sol’s head and shoulders, leading her to a room with a pool. The canaries leave and Soleil notices the design of a silver dragon carved into the pool, with a glowing orb in its mouth

(This was the Platinum Dragon, revealing she accidentally got into a temple; she didn’t know this because, as she’s from a different timeline, she doesn’t know a lot about the religion here.)

She wades into the pool, and the Silken Spite immediately reacts, moving up from her side to curl around her neck like a choker, away from the water. Soleil’s “demon arm” (the one she uses to wield Silken Spite) also burns when the water touches the spider marks on her arm. Soleil could use her non-dominant hand, but wouldn’t be as successful, so she throws a quick “SORRY!” to Sinnafex before diving her demon arm into the (definitely) holy water. ITS VERY VERY PAINFUL 😀

Soleil gets a vision; sees herself as a little girl in the Chun Dunes, a desert filled with huge rainbow crystalline chunks scattered across the area. A sword is stabbed into a red gemstone, its light bleeding, letting darkness fester. Soleil feels the need to help before the vision ends. She yanks her hand from the water; up to her elbow is completely burned and scarred. The butterfly mark on her palm is faded, can’t see the webs on her forearm. A woman from the temple finds Soleil, freaking out, and gets Soleil on bed rest despite Sol’s protests.

While sleeping, Soleil rolls over onto her scarred arm and is woken by the sound of the dead skin flaking off (GROSS). She goes to a basin of water to start to wash it all away… the spiderweb markings on her arm have completely disappeared, as well as the butterflies. Instead, they are now replaced with lineart of shimmering, silver scales, all the way up to her shoulder. The butterfly on her palm is now replaced with a silver dragon with butterfly wings.

While the butterflies are gone from Soleil’s arm, she can now summon them whenever she pleases, and make their colors whatever she’d like. She tries blue and pink, colors that remind her of her friends, and Sinnafex appears again to complain about the colors on the lining of his suit changing with it. He reveals that the spiders were less to do with him and more to do with the Spider Queen, and also that when Soleil goes to the dreamverse, her soul temporarily leaves her body for the duration- to him, she becomes an aurora of colors. He tells Soleil of an artifact of the Spider Queen they could retrieve for helping their situation.

When Sol is eventually back at the ship, the princess reveals that she practices conjuring magic, and that with her books, she could supposedly summon Soleil’s uncle, who is now more demon than person. Discuss plans.

Later, a black butterfly flies from Hazel to Soleil; a memory offering itself for her. Soleil looks- learns that both the Elven woman she saw in her dreams once and the princess are both tied to Hazel and her family.

Session 23

Fairly chill session, mostly just deciding plans for getting families back. Get invites to the Fall Festival, Soleil disguises herself to sneak into the princess’ chambers in the castle, retrieve her spell books and GET OUTTA THERE. Mostly an errands session.

Hazel calls Soleil “Soli” and she sufficiently has some gay panic 👍

Soleil talks to Lorelle to make sure she’s okay, talk about Soleil and Hazel maybe dating since Hazel keeps taking Soleil places in private?? Sol assures her nothing has happened with herself and Hazel

Soleil goes off on her own to buy potions and quickly realizes she’s being trailed by someone they saw months ago, someone who was aboard an imperial ship- somehow, they can see Sinnafex with Soleil, even when he doesn’t show himself on purpose

Soleil manages to hide from him for a bit, buys polymorph poison from the apothecary and arms herself- she’s immediately attacked when she leaves the room. She uses her hivemind to tell Hazel and Lorelle what’s happened. The man calls Soleil a heretic and tries to forcefully arrest her, leading to combat. Soleil eventually uses the poison and turns him into a rat, making a dead break for their ship to get away from public eyes and to trap him in one of their rooms.

Soleil gets to the ship before her friends in a frenzy, making a move for the captain’s quarters where Dalm (the vampire!) stays. She gives him her keen dagger, explaining that in 10 minutes the polymorph will wear off, and when it does, she needs his help holding the man here to tie him up.

Lots of talking with the man; he’s a Drow elf named Dimitri. As we tend to his wounds in the medbay, Soleil asks Sinnafex why Dimitri called her a heretic. Sinnafex shifts into a woman’s form and explains Dimitri’s history with the Drow empire. Dimitri says to be from the imperial guard, who have license to arrest anyone they deem is practicing witchcraft (which is why he went after Sol and Sinnafex).

In a moment of panic, Soleil CLOCKS Dimitri because she remembers she can go into his memories if he’s unconscious- plans to try and make him forget that their encounter ever happened. For the entire duration of the dreamscape, Sol’s body is externally covered in shimmering, purple electric static. In addition to checking on Dimitri, Sol also goes into her uncle’s memories. Her uncle is now a monster; a robotic centaur, twice his stature as before

(cw violence) Hazel, upon hearing about what Soleil’s uncle now looks like, has a horrible memory: one of Soleil’s uncle in that centaur form trying to OBLITERATE her family. He sends Hazel’s dad off the balcony and EXTREMELY harms the Elven woman from before. Soleil and Lorelle see the memory at the same time. Afterward, everyone takes a moment to process what they just saw. Hazel insists on leaving for the dinner she and Soleil have with her godfather, no matter how much we insist she needs bed rest.

Session 24 (this one was 12 hours long, BUCKLE UP)

Sol and Hazel go to the dinner with her godfather to get festival invites, he has a very nice mansion and lets them have their own rooms to stay the night.

Before the night is over, Hazel tells her godfather and Sol and Lorelle are interested in each other and wants them to spend more time together at the festival. Soleil FREAKS and finds out that Hazel is genuinely seriously about setting them up.

Soleil and Hazel have a spa day the next morning! Comfy beds, huge baths all to themselves in their rooms. The bath picks up on Soleil’s stress as she mulls over her probable feelings for Lorelle, and bath bombs are added to the bath, as well as the shower to mimic rain. First bath in who knows how long!! :) (also it casted Calm Emotions on her LOL)

Soleil and Hazel get tailored for festival dresses. We later meet Lorelle and the others back at the ship to explain why we were out all night. Whole gang spends hours talking about plans going forward. Afterward, Soleil seeks out Lorelle to check on her again

(tw abuse, scars) Lorelle opens up to Soleil about her abusive ex boyfriend who has been messaging her a lot as of late. Soleil makes sure Lorelle knows how toxic he was and how she didn’t do anything wrong, and herself and the others will always be there for her. She asks Lorelle if her burn scars are because of him, and it’s confirmed. Soleil holds her wrist, and the scale markings flash with the color of Lorelle’s skin. At one point, Dalm and Enu interrupt to ask if there’s “romance happening.” They shoo them off, Lorelle talks about Hazel liking Soleil, Soleil disagrees and tells Lorelle how much she cares about her, they talk about Soleil’s uncle, and she finally heads to her own room at around 4 am.

Upon leaving, Soleil see’s Hazel’s raven familiar in the hall and says goodnight to him- in response, she hears her dead father say goodnight back. She immediately freezes and crouches in front of the raven VERY confused, and gets her eyebrow pecked for it.

While Soleil sleeps in the morning, the Imperial Guard arrive to collect Dimitri (who was sedated and still passed out). It goes off without a hitch, but very quickly after he’s gone, the group needs to decide if they flee or stay, in case Dimitri turns them in when he inevitably wakes up. We get Dalm out and hide Princess Enu under the floor plating.

Guards arrive on the claim that we harbored a vampire, we let them search the ship thinking we’re fine, but they find evidence of things we forgot to clean up (whoops). While we’re manacled, Lorelle’s ex, Lindon, shows up with a group of cultists and start attacking the guards; he came here with the intent of saving Lorelle

SOLEIL GETS BADASS COMBAT TIME! Hazel goes down and Lorelle is on one hit point; Soleil scoops up Hazel and urges Lorelle onto the ship, still trying to keep her away from her Lindon. He insists he can take them to a hideout that’s away from imperial reach. Soleil is pissed and hates his guts, but doesn’t have time for bickering and wants to use him to keep the guards off of us for as long as possible. With Lorelle’s permission, he and his gang get on the ship with us as we leave.

Some party drama with Hazel, leaving Soleil to be incredibly pissed at her for quite awhile. Soleil sticks with Lorelle at all times so she can never be alone with Lindon. Soleil takes the ship to sub-orbital until they all decide what to do. She takes Lorelle to the medbay to help patch her up.

Sinnafex tells Soleil they could vent the cultists and Lindon from the ship if they really want to; Soleil considers it. Soleil leaves to go secretly move Enu back to her room without the new company seeing. She returns to the medbay while Hazel and Lorelle talk

Soleil gets the hideout from Lindon, and passes on the message that he wants to talk with Lorelle one on one. Soleil offers to go with and Lorelle accepts. The talk goes nowhere with Sol there; she argues with Lindon until Lorelle holds her wrist. Soleil squeezes her hand very hard. They leave, and Sol asks if she wants company for the night. Lorelle says yes

While Soleil gets things ready for bed, she realizes Lorelle has been gone for awhile and finds Lorelle and Hazel hugging, Hazel’s huge void of a scar transferred to Lorelle. Soleil waits a whole hour there for them before they leave the vision; they saw Lorelle’s mom (who we thought was dead) working with Soleil’s uncle

Hazel and Lorelle cry themselves to exhaustion, passing out, and Soleil hauls them to the bridge, asking Dalm if he can help grab pillows and blankets from everyone’s room for a huge comfy pile in the bridge where no one has to be alone. Since Dalm is a vampire, Soleil asks him if he could stay up the night while they sleep so that the cultists don’t do anything; he agrees

Dalm grabs Soleil’s hand and tells her that she’s doing a great job, and it’s okay if she needs to cry too; Soleil says “we’ll see.” He gives her a kiss on the forehead and brushes his hand through Soleil’s hair while she sleeps with the other two

LEVEL UP!!! Soleil multiclasses into Hexblade Warlock (5 rogue levels, 1 warlock level)! She takes Eldritch Blast, Sword Burst, Hellish Rebuke and Hex. Flavor text moment, Soleil learned all of her warlock abilities from Sinnafex

(cw light implied nsfw) The next morning, Soleil wakes up first and feels a weight lift off of her; Sinnafex was laying on top of her and he “wakes up”, claiming that “last night was so fun~” (even though nothing happened). Soleil tells him he’s very funny and sits there unamused while he moves to straddle her instead

He says Lorelle is cute, he doesn’t mind sharing. Since him and Soleil are the only ones up, he proposes that they could just go kill the cultists right now- throwing in a “You’re so pretty in the morning… can we go kill that guy now?” Soleil refuses, saying as much as she wants to, it’s not her decision alone. He dramatically falls back, exasperated, and calls Soleil boring

Lorelle wakes up next and tells Soleil about what her and Hazel saw. Hazel wakes up after, immediately leaving the pile.

The space station from before messages the ship again, offering a place to stay if our ship is currently too small.

Soleil goes to get breakfast from the kitchen, Dalm is there cooking, as well as Enu who excitedly tells Soleil that she found the CANNABIS OPTION ON THE FOOD REPLICATOR. Soleil and Enu have an interesting talk about how to limit those snacks as well as energy drinks

Soleil puts a hand on Dalm’s arm and thanks him sincerely for the night prior; he turns the move into a hug and says it’s okay. He asks Enu to go grab his dagger from his room since he forgot it. When she leaves, Dalm pulls away from the hug but still keeps close; “I don’t know what you’re doing to me. I was sent here to assassinate you and now I’m here cooking for you and- and I like it? Did you put a curse on me or something?”

Soleil laughs, telling him they’re all just becoming better friends, and maybe he likes some sort of domestic life more than he thought. She grabs breakfast for everyone and he gives her arm a squeeze as she leaves

Lorelle asks how Soleil slept, Sinnafex makes a comment to Sol about “sleeping between two beautiful women.” She wants to strangle him. She tells Lorelle and Hazel about her earlier visit from Sinnafex but nothing else

Hazel leaves to “give the lovebirds space,” Soleil and Lorelle talk and Sinnafex keeps butting in, telling Soleil to “cut the bedroom eyes.” He gradually makes more teasing and inappropriate comments and Soleil gets more and more flustered, busying herself with the controls on the board- Lorelle knows Soleil is talking to Sinnafex because Soleil stops to respond telepathically.

Lorelle asks Soleil to accompany her on trying to talk to Lindon again, Soleil agrees. Sol takes a moment at the bridge to mentally scream at Sinnafex while Lorelle grabs some things. Lindon agrees to only talk business while Soleil is present, no personal talks. We talk plans with Lindon and then talk about all of our options with everyone

Soleil accompanies Lorelle for her talk with Lindon one more time. Lorelle squeezes Soleil’s hand and says it’ll be okay if Soleil just waits in the doorway, per Lindon’s request. Soleil begrudgingly goes with it. She listens to them catch up and discuss their past, gradually getting more irritated but keeping to herself. Lindon eventually calls Soleil back in when they finish talking.

Soleil and Lorelle leave, talk about it a little before Dalm comes over with slices of cake. He advises Lorelle to go get some sleep, then waits until she’s left to ask Soleil if she listened in; “Of course I did.” “Of course you did. I’m almost disappointed in you.” Dalm says that some people need to figure things out on their own, without their friends with them. Soleil argues that Lorelle wanted her there and that Sol wanted to make sure Lorelle didn’t get hurt. Dalm asks if Soleil thinks she ever cares ä bit too much, Soleil says maybe, and Dalm makes an offhand comment about Soleil being in love with Lorelle- Soleil shuts it down very quickly, flustered; she says no, no, no, and Dalm asks if that means he has a chance. Soleil, assuming he’s joking around, gives him a laugh before parting

Sinnafex tells her “Oh my… this is going to get interesting.” Soleil asks what he means, but he refuses to tell her unless she lets him take control of her just once; Soleil quickly shoots it down

(META GAME MOMENT: WE HAVE CONFIRMED DALM DEFINITELY HAS A CRUSH ON SOLEIL)

The gang goes ahead and makes it to the space station. Dalm asks Soleil if he can go walk along the moon, she agrees to let him out and watch him from the airlock. Before they go, he says they need to have a talk about “romance”, not between Soleil and Lorelle but someone else… HEAVILY hints to Princess Enu having a crush on Soleil- she keeps her diary a secret around Dalm and he once saw her draw a heart with initials in it around some runes. Soleil is STUNNED and thinks he’s got it wrong

(tw nsfw implication, slight manipulation?) While Dalm is gone, Soleil asks Sinnafex if the reveal about Enu was his “surprise,” Sinnafex says OBVIOUSLY not and calls Soleil boring. He shows himself again, this time standing in front of her, hand against the wall behind her and leaning close. He suggests hooking up, Soleil declines while assuring him that she’s fine. He holds her chin getting closer, insisting that it would be good for Soleil to get some “practice” to no longer be a virgin. Soleil mentions being interested in someone else, and he bugs her about it until Soleil confirms that it’s Lorelle. He says again that he doesn’t mind sharing, and asks if he can at least get a kiss. Soleil huffs, frustrated, and only gives him a kiss on the cheek before focusing back on letting Dalm back into the station. Dalm says she should go out there with him sometime.

Next day, Soleil tries her hand at an old Ancient One RPG on a game console that’s aboard! swag

Third day, Sinnafex bugs Soleil while she tries to sleep; “I’m trying to fucking SLEEP!” “And I’m trying to FUCKING!” Soleil later accidentally walks in on Hazel letting Dalm have some of her blood while trying to find the bathroom because he had been growing weak.

Fourth day, Enu approaches Soleil and asks if she’ll go with her to see the station’s fire elemental; Enu wants to learn from it since it’s her specialty, and Soleil understands the whole conversation. It goes on for a few hours before Enu starts to get tired, yawning and exhausted. Soleil says they should get her to bed, and Enu asks “Would you carry me?” While Soleil’s caught off guard, Enu panics saying it was a dumb thing to ask, DEAD SPRINTS back to her room

Soleil and Lorelle meet up while Soleil is heading back from her time with Enu. Lorelle asks how Soleil is and talks about a random dating sim game that the AI recommended for her- Soleil finds it funny and admits to having played that game ages ago back in her timeline. They walk and talk about everything, ending up in a small lounge/sitting area.

Out of nowhere, Sinnafex takes control of Soleil (failed wisdom save), making her grab Lorelle’s hands and tell her how lonely they looked. Soleil gets control again and immediately panics. Sinnafex bugs her while Soleil becomes a bumbling mess of apologies for how sudden it was, getting more flustered by the second.

(cw nsfw implication, manipulation kinda from Sinnafex again) Lorelle tucks Soleil’s hair behind her ear, asking if she’s okay. Sinnafex keeps pushing her and Soleil finally says “This might be… very inappropriate of me to ask. But can I… kiss you…?” Lorelle says yes, and they kiss. Sinnafex takes control again, meaning more kisses, having Soleil put her hand on Lorelle’s thigh and asking if she wants to go further; Lorelle declines

Soleil gets control back and FREAKS out because that’s absolutely NOT WHAT SHE WANTED TO DO. Lorelle tucks Soleil’s hair again, gives her a kiss on the forehead, and tells Soleil she needs better control over Sinnafex; Soleil VERY MUCH agrees. Lorelle suggests getting food, Soleil says she’ll meet her at the cafeteria and goes to her room.

Soleil full on screams into her pillow for a good minute and yells at Sinnafex who shows himself again, with celebratory wine and his tie undone. Soleil argues with him incessantly, he makes fun of her for only just having her first kiss, and abruptly moves in front of Soleil to hold her chin again and kiss her this time, pulls back saying “That’s what a kiss should be.”

Soleil finally leaves, incredibly frustrated (more so when he slaps her ass on the way out JFC), and eventually meets back up with Lorelle. Soleil doesn’t know, but the kiss from Sinnafex created a charming effect on Lorelle, making her even more infatuated with Soleil. For the rest of the night, they get food, talk, and only share kisses before calling it a night at one of their rooms.

SOLEIL GOES TO THE DREAMVERSE! Sinnafex visits Lorelle’s mind while Soleil is gone, telling Lorelle about how Soleil’s soul just disappears sometimes. They talk, and when Lorelle asks Sinnafex to step off with the relationship stuff, Sinnafex explains that he is with Soleil for everything she does; their traits rub off on each other and some bit of him will always be present. He takes the form of a woman again and tries to seduce Lorelle but to no avail. Sinnafex also saves Lorelle from her own shadow demon.

DREAMVERSE TIME!! Soleil feels nostalgic with all the talk of families, so she visits her dad’s memories- but it’s more like visiting his own personal heaven since he’s dead. Soleil watches her dad push her and Lucas on swings at a park, Soleil was a toddler at the time while Lucas was slightly older. He pushes them high on the swings, saying he always knew Soleil and Lucas would fly high. Soleil sees her mom with her dad too.

As Sol leaves the space, she’s presented with the option to go deeper into it. She does, and this time she’s on the swing and not watching herself. Instead of flying off the swing into the air, Soleil lands with a thud into the sand, and her dad immediately becomes confused, thinking he somehow broke the space, saying this isn’t how the memory is supposed to happen. Soleil turns towards him; “…Dad?” “Soleil?” They both realize it’s real, they’re really together, and her dad scrambles over to bring her into a hug. Soleil immediately breaks down, and he tells her how much he’s missed her, how he doesn’t understand what’s happening, and doesn’t know if Soleil died or not. Soleil explains it’s just a thing she can do, and they move to the swings to talk. He asks her what it was like visiting a new galaxy, and reveals that while he’s here, he can view parts of Soleil’s life as they happen, but he’s behind and viewing them in random order. He asks if Soleil has gotten with Tomas yet, that’s what he was banking on, and Soleil admits to have kissing Lorelle that night. Soleil asks him if he knows where Lucas is, and he doesn’t, but he knows about what happened to Soleil’s uncle. While we talk, an older version of Hazel shows up, a version of her where she became a champion of the Raven Queen. She tells Soleil that she can’t be there, has to leave before the others find out. Soleil hugs her dad tight, tells him she loves him, and he loves her too, telling her that she’ll always fly so, so high. The space fades as the sand falls away.

Soleil tries checking on her mother next. Her father told her that she was currently doing something in the North Pole, but not sure what. Soleil tries to see, but not strong enough to get in.

Soleil tries checking on Lucas, hoping to pry her way in to figure out what happened to him. She’s not strong enough here, either, but instead gets tossed into someone else’s mind- her brother’s significant other. She’s with him on a beach, holding his hand, and she asks to hear about Soleil again. He replies “You mean that greedy, self important little trouble maker? … She did always have a sense of humor.” He starts to cry and she comforts him, telling him she understands.

Soleil gets pushed out of the memory, but once again gets the option to go deeper in. She follows the path, and ends up at not the beach but instead a firey battlefield, scattered with ships Soleil doesn’t recognize. Soleil stands on the bow of a starship with a sword pointed at her by the same person, demanding to know who Soleil is. Soleil is still crying from before, and desperately explains that she’s Lucas’ sister. The figure is confused at first but eventually comes around, asking Soleil what happened to the St. Marianne. Soleil explains that the ship was destroyed, and that she ended up here and was found. She starts to tell Soleil that the Order has invaded, they’re at the Gateway, and Soleil needs to bring reinforcements. She struggles to think of the word, then says in French, “the many is one” so that Soleil can understand. Soleil mentions having been in cryosleep for 3,000 years, so she doesn’t understand the war, and the figure is confused on how that can be because the battle has only gone on for 15 minutes. Before Soleil can say anything, the setting resets- the figure moves back to pointing the blade at Soleil, repeating herself in demanding to know who Soleil is. Soleil realizes that they’re stuck in a TIME LOOP.

The memory fades away, and instead, Soleil sees the universe in front of her like she has before, it speaks to her again; “This is what will happen if you free him. Your brother. Freeing him from the gateway will cause cataclysm. The Nine will stand. They will not fall to foreign invaders. Your destiny… the reason you were the one who survived the St. Marianne was to prevent ragnarok. You are a soldier. You are ours. Prepare yourself.”

Soleil suddenly wakes up, alone in her room, Lorelle missing from the bed- instead there is only a trail of black ichor leading out of the room. Soleil quickly gets up, following the trail all the way to the airlock- where she sees Lorelle passed out on the floor, surrounded by the ichor at the brink of life, and her shadow demon pinned to the wall by Sinnafex’s webs.

End of session! If anyone reads all this, I hope you enjoy this LENGTHY summary and feel free to hand over any questions about Soleil or the campaign :)