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malfoys-demigod · 3 years

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Turn Me or Leave Me 2/2

1/2

Summary: Elijah makes his choice to find and return you to him with the help of Marcel.

A/N: It was really nice to see that people wanted a second part. This one's shorter but I hope you still enjoy it!

Word Count: 1.8k

Tagging: @puddinmistahj-blog @moon-child-writer @wanniiieeee @agent-anna @mysticalfallsss

“All I wanted was a happy ending. A happy ending to what I have caused on our special day.” Elijah said, expressing his guilt on a sunny morning. A day after the evening of when he learned that you, the love of his life, had chosen to leave, and adding to the misery, asked that your memories were to be erased. Every last one memory he and you shared for the past five years.

Marcel and Klaus, being his only two anchors who felt responsible to hold the honorable and noble Mikaelson standing, stood behind the still-sad Elijah, listening to him sulk around the compound.

Marcel felt highly accountable for putting Elijah in greater pain, confiding in him the truth that came along with nothing but distress. He also felt sorry that he had to tell them something that made you unsure of telling Marcel in the first place, despite not telling them exactly where you were headed… yet.

The right hand of Klaus had sighed, looking at the ground, getting Elijah to turn around and look at him with focus.

“I’ll have you know Marcellus that I completely feel regret in myself for giving her the choice to leave. I shouldn’t have referred to her as a wall when it came to discussing important matters as that. I feel entirely in the wrong as she was right in making that point of no difference between now or five years for me to turn her. I vowed that I’d do anything to make her happy and I denied a simple request that I could have given in a heartbeat. I am clearly spiraling down a whole of great depression and fear, on the brink of turning my humanity off knowing that I cannot attempt to get her back. Is that what you wanted out of me?” he asked, irritated and drained.

Marcel looked at Klaus, who seemed to have shrugged, signaling that this was not his floor for him to say anything since he wasn’t the one to have gotten Elijah’s attention. He then looked back at Elijah, who was breathing heavily from what he had just told Marcel.

“I’m sorry, Elijah, you must have misunderstood me,” Marcel stated, “You see, I wanted to honor the moment Y/N and I had together that night in the airport. In order for her to tell me where she was going, I told her that there was no use in feeling hesitant to tell me since there was an assumption that you’d back off and respect her wishes of leaving, staying here instead. I shouldn’t have done that now that I’m hoping you’d sweep her off her feet again and get her back. Before you snap my neck or anything, just know that I’m on your side now, I want you to get her back.”

Elijah used his super-speed to quickly appear in front of Marcel, looking at him with serious eyes, “Then kindly tell me where she is. I’d like to get my wife back.”

Marcel patted Elijah in the back, smirking with delight, “With pleasure, but there’s someone you should know with her over there who’ll be brought back as well.”

Elijah’s face turned to stone, as his excitement was abruptly brought to a pause. “Who?” he asked with worry.

“I’m so glad we could end today’s shopping at this wonderful restaurant’s seating choice, Rebekah.” you thanked your newly made friend.

The two of you were currently at Duke’s La Jolla, a Hawaiian-inspired restaurant known for its beautiful outdoor seatings, overlooking the ocean views San Diego had to offer. This was near La Jolla Cove, a place Rebekah had planned on taking you to see after.

Right now, Duke’s was the place to gather energy and restore appetite after today’s massive shopping care of Rebekah at The Shops, an unparalleled experience for shopping at the city. She surprisingly took care of all the expenses, managing you to not stress about the endless rolling of receipts. She said it was another warm way of welcoming you to the city.

“Of course, dear, Y/N,” Rebekah waved off, “I’ve befriended the chef quite some time ago and got us the best seats for today. He’s remarkably a talented chef I might say as our meals are on the house.”

You gasped at the fact that meals were also taken cared of, “First the shopping, now the meals? This clearly has to be a dream, Rebekah, I’m serious, nobody could be that lucky in one day.”

“I can assure you that the chef of Duke’s has his ways of welcoming newcomers to his city and giving out free meals on your first visit is one of his many ways,” said an masculine voice, interrupting the conversation.

You looked up to see an elegant and sophisticated man, wearing a black luxurious suit, smiling at you with such captivation in his eyes. He removed one of his hands that had been hiding in his pocket, lending it out for you to shake.

“I’m Elijah, Rebekah’s brother,” the man introduced himself to you.

You took out your hand, shaking it with a small, enchanted smile on your face as you were charmed by his presence, “It’s nice to meet you, Elijah, I’m Y/N.”

Elijah felt nothing but pure attractiveness in how refreshing you looked compared to how he saw you last time. He was feeling nervous but wonderful to see you as you felt and appeared so different.

He examined how different you looked in terms of fashion. Rebekah transformed you into this fresh West Coast beach girl, successfully rocking the sundress and denim jacket as your hair was flowing down in a wavy manner. Your smile, it really showed that you were compelled. You had no thoughts of the troubling life you had in New Orleans, especially during the last time you interacted with Elijah. You seemed to have had no thought on the supernatural events happening, as there was nothing but sunshine on your mind.

Marcel seemed to have noticed that Elijah was about to start fawning over you for a much longer time than he had expected, which caused him to nudge Elijah in the shoulder, bringing him back to reality.

Elijah, animated back to reality, turned to Marcel, who was smiling warmly at you, “This is Marcel, a friend of mine.”

“He’s also my boyfriend actually,” Rebekah stated, smiling at you and Elijah. Marcel extended his hand and chuckled at you, “It’s a pleasure to meet you, Y/N.”

You shook Marcel’s hand, gasping again at Rebekah, “Rebekah I didn’t even know about you having a brother, and now a boyfriend? You seem to be hiding lots of things from me,” you teased.

“Relax darling, I’ve only met you a few days ago, I can’t just talk you through my entire life,” Rebekah sarcastically replied, “No doubt that would take centuries,” she looked at Elijah with a smirk.

“Right, well I wouldn’t want to be rude anymore, Elijah, Marcel, would you like to join us? The view is to die for, and so is the food!” you proposed, inviting your two new friends to sit with you by the table.

Rebekah waved her hands at Elijah and Marcel who had begun nodding and gesturing to sit, “But would you look at the time? Y/N was meaning to be taken to La Jolla Cove and now seems to be the perfect time.”

You turned to Rebekah, narrowing your eyebrows in confusion. But before you had a say in it, Elijah took a step forward and pointed at his sister, “Yes well, perhaps you’ve forgotten that you and Marcel have matters to attend to by this hour, sister? Y/N shouldn’t be worried about cancelled plans on her end, I’d be delighted to take her for you, if that's alright with you, Y/N?” he asked, now looking at you.

You rapidly nodded in excitement, “Of course, I don’t see why not!”

Marcel clasped his hands together, rubbing it in successfully, “Well now that’s settled, I think it’s time to make a move now,” he offered, looking at the group with a big grin on his face. Rebekah pursed her lips in irritation, “Right, just fantastic…” she murmured, standing up and making her way beside Marcel.

Elijah took his hand out gracefully, which you took in response, standing up beside him with an elated smile on your face. “Well, thank you for lunch today, Rebekah, and of course shopping. I’ll see you at home later?”

“With good things to look forward to I hope,” Rebekah strangely replied, which somehow Elijah and Marcel knew what she meant, leaving Marcel and Rebekah to part ways after that, resulting in you and Elijah left alone again.

He looked at you with mesmerism for a quick second and then gestured his hand to the exit, “Shall we?”

Plans with the person taking you to La Jolla Cove may have been changed but something about Elijah taking you instead didn’t really bother you. He was nothing but a pleasure to be with at the moment. After multiple times of offering that you drive, you finally gave up when Elijah strongly insisted that he’d take the wheel and drive the two of you to your destination.

For some reason, the drive to the cove had been surprisingly quiet in a good way. Glances at each other were exchanged every so often, smiling at each other as if you two were an old and sweet married couple enjoying each other’s moments together.

While you were thinking about how kind and handsome your friend’s brother was, Elijah was feeling nothing but a breeze of happiness in his heart, seeing you smile as if nothing in the world was bothering you at the moment. He was a little sad that you weren’t aware anymore of the feud between you two, but he wanted to cherish this happy and silent moment the two of you were sharing, knowing it would come to an end later on as he intended of bringing your memories back.

Once you arrived at the cove, you quickly stepped out and breathed the fresh and sunny air in the small, picturesque cove and beach that was surrounded by cliffs. “Wow, I can see why this place is deeply loved by both tourists and locals.” you admitted, gazing at the waves and breathtaking sky.

You turned around, looking at Elijah, who seemed to have already made his way beside you, putting his hands back on his pocket. You noticed how elegantly perfect he looked in his suit, but it didn’t really suit the setting. “Can I be honest with you, Elijah?” you asked, getting his attention.

He gave a small smile and nod, gesturing for you to continue, “Of course.”

“No offense because I really like your whole get up and all but wearing a nice suit… on a beach?” you joked, laughing at what you said.

Elijah looked down at his whole look, grinning at your observation and started unbuttoning his jacket, “Yes, I suppose you’re right. I do hope though that folding up my shirt and trousers would suffice at the moment.”

“We could head back to the mall and get you some beach clothes if you want,” you offered, turning around to the car.

Elijah shook his head, and stopped you by grabbing your forearm, “That won’t be necessary, Y/N, I wouldn’t want you to miss out on spending more time in this lovely place.”

You nodded, showing a gesture of appreciation and looked back at the view of the beach, “It’s beautiful isn’t it? I’ve never seen such magnificent views like this. You see, I’m originally from New Orleans and I just moved here to the West Coast and I haven’t really had much exposure to things like this.”

Elijah, finished folding his shirt and trousers, looked at you with care, “Do you like it here so far?”

You nodded, showing eyes of hopes and dreams awaiting to be accomplished, “You bet. I don’t really see myself going back to New Orleans. I can’t explain how I’m feeling exactly but this place makes me feel free and at ease. Like nothing’s stopping me to live a carefree and happy life.”

Elijah displayed somewhat of a small smile, which to him was because he was relieved and happy that you were happy. The smile was small because he also felt unhappy that he was not able to provide you this happiness.

“What about you, Elijah?”

“Hm?” Elijah hummed in confusion.

“Are you living a carefree and happy life as well?” you prompted, asking innocently. “Perhaps there’s a special person in your life that’s giving you the additional happiness in your life?” There was something in your gut that wanted you to ask this, wanting to know if he had a significant other in his life.

Elijah chuckled to himself in a depressing way, looking down at the ground. “It’s quite a long story.”

“Ah,” you opened your mouth, happy that you understood what he was trying to say, “But do you love her?”

There seemed to be a quick and honest nod from Elijah, who seemed to be looking directly at the horizon, as if he was vividly thinking about his girl. “Words cannot express how much I love her.”

“So what happened?” you genuinely asked.

“One single yet vast mistake I made on my end. It ruined everything that we had together and I will never forget how much I regretted everything that led to her completely starting a new life without me. It broke my heart but I deserved that. She doesn’t deserve to have her heart broken because I wasn’t thinking things correctly.” he utterly confessed with grief.

You touched his shoulder out of pity, causing him to look at you with soft eyes, “Fight for her, Elijah. She has to be around here somewhere, hasn’t she? It isn’t too late to see if you have a chance to get her back and I know you will. I can help find her!” you supportingly said, trying to get his hopes up.

But it somehow failed. He sighed, shaking his head at you. His hand slowly touched yours, the one that held his shoulder. “Looking around for her won’t be necessary,” he replied, confusing you, “Because you’ve been standing alongside me today.”

You narrowed your eyes, wondering what he meant as this sounded strange to you. “I-I don’t follow, Elijah.”

Elijah placed both his hands on your shoulders firmly, looking you straight in the eye as he started compelling you.

“What we have just briefly discussed between us is considered a highlight of what I’m about to bring back to you,” he first said, “Recently, Marcel Gerard had compelled you to forget everything that happened to you in the last five years upon your request. The reason for this was because I denied you of becoming a vampire after being asked by you on our five year anniversary. With this, we had a massive quarrel, leaving you to have your memories erased and decide to start a new life here, away from New Orleans. Eventually you met again, Rebekah, but that doesn’t matter as much as what I’m about to say. I, Elijah Mikaelson, your husband, have travelled to see you, ending this compulsion to give you free will upon hearing what has been said.”

A few mere seconds had passed after Elijah’s compulsions and there you were, standing, and staring at someone who grew fondly familiar to you, bringing about tears slowly falling on your face as emotions were just attacking your body, hitting you right in the face with such clarity and impact.

Elijah only saw a tearful wife of his, narrowing her eyes with emotion as she didn’t know how to feel at the moment. He wanted to hug her and tell her everything was fine but he wanted her to make the first move, giving her the choice on how she wanted to react.

“E-Elijah,” your voice broke, causing you to just wrap your arms around his neck, breaking out to sob quietly. Elijah frowned in pity, hugging you back with such grip on his arms, wanting to not let you go. He gently rubbed your back, whispering sweet words and telling you to let it all out.

“My darling,” he whispered, “Just let it all out, it will be alright.”

Still embracing him, you shook your head, which he felt you do, “No,” you denied, “I’m so sorry, Elijah.”

This caused the heartwarming hug to stop from the two of you, as you simultaneously pulled out from each other. Elijah looked at you with slight confusion, after hearing you apologize. “Elijah,” you continued, “It was really wrong of me to lash out on you that night. I completely destroyed our anniversary night all because of one thing I kept going on about. Then I didn’t even let you know what choice I chose, leaving you to find out in a way you couldn’t imagine. I’m very, truly, sorry.”

Elijah gloomed, lowering his face with guilt, “No, Y/N,” he started with a low, sad voice, “It is I who is in the wrong, not you. You will never be in the wrong. What you asked for was something to do with what special thing we have. Of course it is my dream to live an eternal life with you, and when the situation appeared in front of me, I foolishly ignored it and words cannot express how wrong that was of me to do. I was a fool for doing so, for letting you go, and making you unhappy. It went to show how vapid I was as a husband and the guilt of that lives in me. It was I who destroyed our special day together, not you, but I. When you left without telling me, I deserved that as it gave me the time to reflect on how much of a mindless person I was that night. Knowing that you went here to start a life without me broke me. I never wanted to imagine what it was like to not have you in my life anymore and that fear arrived the moment we fought and I was trembling with such immense fear, knowing that life would crumble down without you by my side. I want you to know Y/N, that you are the love of my life always and forever. I am deeply apologetic for what I have done and I want you to know that I will do everything in my power to make things right, to make us right again, because all I want in my life is to make you happy and if you will, I would like to live an eternal life with you, for you are the light of my life.”

It didn’t take another second for you to think about it. Despite going through a lot on both your ends, he was still the love of your life. If there was one thing the Mikaelsons taught you, it was that no matter what happens, family will always come down as the number one thing in life, always and forever.

You nodded, starting to grow a smile on your face, followed along with giggles, which caused Elijah to tense down and return the smile, “Yes, Elijah,” you replied, “I will always love you with all my heart. You are after all, my husband, my lover, my favorite person in the entire world and I would never want things to end between us for you too are the light of my life.”

With that, Elijah cupped your face and connected his lips with yours, planting a passionate and heartwarming kiss to end the beautiful day in one of your favorite places with your favorite person. You returned to wrapping your arms around his neck, hoping to stay like this forever with him.

Perhaps the two of you could stay in this beautiful place for awhile, after all… It is your special week in the end.

#elijah mikaelson x reader #the originals #the vampire diaries #tvd #to #elijah mikaelson #elijah mikaelson x you #elijah mikaelson x y/n #elijah mikaelson imagines #elijah mikaelson imagine #elijah mikaelson fluff #elijah mikaelson angst #klaus mikaelson #marcel gerard

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ktheist · 3 years

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when a dragon loves a witch.

min yoongi thought he was the shit.

not because his heart-shaped face was on the prettier side of the standards of beauty that’s eating away at this old, waning world. nor is it because he has at least three people coming up to him and confessing their undying love every year. but because he thinks he’s- “the only few people in the world that can murder you and leave no forensic evidence behind.”

the way his eyes light up with confidence and excitement at the thought of dueling you - is adorable.

he thinks he can beat you. the ancient one. the beast that once soared the skies with wings made of gold and breathe fire upon a kingdom and send even the proudest of kings to their knees.

nowadays, you laze around in your apartment as a human girl. the actual humans have build warheads and nuclear weapons capable of detonating an entire mountain. you dare not find out what they’ll do if they found a growl of a beast rocking the skies.

because as powerful as you are, there is nothing more powerful than a human with a heart and persons to protect.

“us dragons turn to flower beds when we die,” you say in a matter of factly - an aging knowledge that’s about to be forgotten from this world, “technically, there won’t be any body to make my grave a crime scene.”

admittedly, min yoongi wasn’t a young magic that needed nurturing anymore. he could have been an ancestor in a few coming centuries. one that would rise up above all others. that was why he was half-serious about ending you.

if he’d proven himself by reaping the ancient one’s soul, witches all over the world would have flocked to him like crows. he’d proved himself worthy of the title. would be the youngest ancestor in the history of magic.

if he’d known you were no human girl and if you’d known the man with the darkest eyes was no ordinary person that one unfortunate night, you both would have, without a doubt, clashed against one another.

“what - what the-“ he’d stared at the noticeable protrusion of your belly with rounded eyes, a contrasting sight from when you first wakes him up to kick him out before noticing the weight that wasn’t there on your human body before, “what did you have last night?!”

he meant food but the answer was sex.

because you’ve had a fair share of human males and females in your lifetime. none of their seeds managed to stay with you long enough to become another being - another creature that is not wholly dragon nor human.

before he could react, you’d pinned him down, knees buried on either sides of his waist, talons digging into the skin of his neck. you’d felt the familiar warmth deep in your throat as you growled a voice you haven’t heard of in a long while, “what are you?”

there was flash in his eyes - possibly when he saw yours turn to slits, a sort of panic and understanding that the woman he’d just bedded was no woman at all.

so you made sure to draw blood from where your talons graze against his skin - it was red and so very human, “you have one chance. use it well.”

“okay, okay!” he held up his hands like a man guilty of a crime, “i’m a witch!”

at that, a low rumble rose from the depths of your belly. no wonder he looked human. felt human.

in your rage, you’d hissed out that the thing growing inside you was his child, “i’d been so careful not to come across another species,” all you saw was red as you’d turned to him, “i should kill you.”

the odds were against you - an ordinary witch’s seed wouldn’t have been able to impregnate you. his magic was unbridled - and as you stared at the man-like creature who’d stared back at you without so much as fear, you knew he knew that too.

as much as he was a witch closest to the level of an ancestor, min yoongi was not a killer. or he was not going to murder a child at least.

“this is no child- it’s a curse!” your talons and slits were the only things that came back. not even your magnificent scales appeared on your skin. it was happening - this- this creature was controlling your body, forming and deforming it to suit its needs as it grew inside you.

“i’m not going to stop you if you don’t wish to keep it. it’s your body... but wouldn’t you want to know what’ll happen... how it’ll be?” for once, there was no trace of maddening fascination in his eyes ever since he found out what you were and what he’d caused to grow inside you.

so you kept it- you kept the creature. mainly because you still had the end of the world to live and regret if you didn’t find out yourself.

min yoongi didn’t move in with you - he had was living with his covenant of witches that would’ve suspect something wrong if he decided to move out from what seemed to be unsuspecting apartment building on the skirts of the city. he did, however, drop through tears of reality.

he brought you ordinary human foods and potions that could help sustain you, “we don’t know what keeps it alive,” he explained while you were popping chips into your mouth, legs propped on the coffee table whilst a mediocre human show was playing on the tv.

you both later found out that it was self-sustaining, living and thriving inside you for almost a century as times change and you’re forced to change with it. you bought a new penthouse because the old one was getting rebuilt. yoongi still visited you everyday - he fucked you everyday too because this thing - this creature, it thrived upon the fleeting moment when both you and him were connected.

in your burning heart, you’d known what exactly kept it alive, “our lifespans, yoongi,” you’d said once you’d come down from your high after fucking like rabbits - such pure, defenseless creatures, “it’s draining our lifespans!”

yoongi didn’t say anything but he didn’t leave either when it was the easiest for him to escape through a tear and disappear for who knew how long. he’d stayed and made human food and kept your part in the fridge when you didn’t join him for dinner.

it was the note tacked up on the lid of the container, instructing you to pre-heat it for 3 minutes, that made you crawl into bed with him in the extra room that’d become his. with your protruding belly and all.

“i’m scared, yoongi -” and for the first time, you’d felt fear, “-i’m scared it’ll turn into a monster. i’m scared they’d come for her and i’m scared i’d love her even then.”

and as he wrapped his arm around you and kissed your forehead, you’d realized that he’d loved the creature even before you did. fascination was just the surface of his abundance of love for something he never knew. it was anticipation. excitement for a sign of life. love from a father to his child. even if it turned out to be a creature of destruction - an abomination given by the gods to the evergreens.

you sought solace in each other’s warmth but you didn’t truly love each other.

and yoongi still talks about taking you on in a fight. as he does now.

“just... any ordinary flowers?” he asks, ever the curious one - you don’t know whether it is out of the sincerity of his heart or if he’s conjuring up some wicked scheme to extract the essence of the flowers at your death.

“it depends on what we loved most in our lifetime,” somehow, you keep talking, “red roses for undying passion, alchemilla mollis for those that managed to find love, though unrequited and can never be... every kind of flower you can thinking of,” involuntarily, your hand goes to your belly, “but none of us have ever had carnations embed our graves.”

“what meaning does carnations bear?” yoongi walks over to you from the kitchen, stacks of sandwich piled on top of a plate and placed on the coffee table in front of you.

“admiration... affection... devotion... a mother’s undying love,” a smile tucks on the corners of your lips.

the hand yoongi takes is bare of its talons. you’ve sworn never to summon them in his presence. so you can never hurt him again. the print of his thumb is callous against your skin - he could have charmed them to be as soft as a baby’s but he didn’t want to erase the traces of his life’s worth of wand-wielding.

his lips are soft though, as he brings your knuckles to your skin, sealing his devotion for you and your child.

when the time comes for the unrelenting pain - akin to black arrowheads struck into your scales and digging into your flesh - comes, you remember wishing you’d turn into flowers, just so it’d end faster. you remember losing all feeling in your body but having lie there in sweat and tears as yoongi’s warm spells seep into you. it only numbs the pain by a notch. but you appreciate them anyway.

then you hear it, the first cry. pushing yourself up, you see yoongi, rocking a child in his arms, cooing to an ancient lullaby in a forgotten language than only his kind knows.

“she’s so very human,” you say some time after the cries quiet down into quiet snores.

“maybe because you were in your human form when you carried her,” yoongi suggests as he stares at the child sleeping next to you on the bed with like he’ll never want anything else in the world.

shar.

ever so lovely as the light of the first dawn. the time she was born. she bears so much resemblance to her father, jet black hair, curled to frame her face. when she smiles, she smiles a gummy smile just like her father’s. the scales that cover her skin when she’s upset is undoubtedly yours. her eyes are of no other, bearing the galaxy within them as well as ether’s flames.

perhaps it’s yoongi’s magic and your power that rests within them.

either way, you adore your little seedling very much.

a century for you is a year for her. but neither you nor yoongi mind for you have an eternity together.

that is, until you don’t.

the first sign of war erupts when you were showing her how to light up a candle with just her breath. she ends up melting too many candles and the penthouse smells of pinewood and lavender and sea waves.

yoongi steps through the reality, bloodied and bruised but alive.

“we have to go,” he says with a kind of urgency you’ve never before heard in his complacent years of living, “the dark wizards - they know - they infiltrated the covenant disguised as one of us and one managed to touch my hand - it was a mind reader.”

“dada?” shar gazes up at her father with those galaxy eyes like she’d understood every word he’d said even though she was supposed to be three according to human developments.

“shar, darling, we have to go away for awhile - remember i used to travel a lot back when i was a dragon? we’re going to travel!” you say and she claps, echoing ‘travel! travel!’ with a sort of zeal only children could have.

her first step through reality makes her scales appear. she’s crying and clinging onto you like she’s scared and in pain and confused.

“i don’t get it- she can do simple spells- tears shouldn’t hurt her,” the crease in yoongi’s forehead is an alien sight so are his wakeful eyes compared to the sleepy droop that says he could fall asleep on the floor if he wills it.

“there’s still not much we know about shar and what she can’t or can do,” you grip his hand tightly, “it’s not your fault.”

so you’re on the run and death follows not too far behind. the cerulean skies you once soared beyond and above are now marred with a kind of darkness. darker than midnight even in the daylight.

the witches of the north shiver at the sight of your child’s eyes. the moon elves claims that shar is not a creature of this world. everywhere you go, none are willing to assist.

and you find yourself within the walls of your previous dwelling. back when dragons rule the lands and skies. back when no foolish creature ever dares to venture into the darkness of a cave for fear of a slumbering creature with scales and fire as breaths.

“all i remember is that i was alive - playing hide and seek with the faes until they die of old age,” the burned patches of the rock walls still remain eons later, “i mourned them for a century before i stepped out - i was so young, the humans shot me with black arrowheads and i burned down their villages.”

the scar from where one struck you still mars your skin - human or dragon, it’s still there.

yoongi traces the slant of the scar of your shoulder as if he’d take the pain and the horrendous memories that came with it if he could.

“take care of shar, yoongi.” you finally say, looking over at the sleeping child by the fire place.

the thought of your young, forming bones having to bear nights on the hard ground pains you more than a mere strike through your scales.

“we’ll take care of her together,” he kisses the top of your head.

that night, you fall asleep, cuddled up around your child with your hands held together as if vowing to protect and cherish. and cherish you will. as well as protect.

the dark wizards find you right where you want them after you’d left the cave. it was hard not to notice the trails of fires you’d left behind as you wait for them in a cafe, abandoned with tables and chairs knocked over as if whoever came before you left in a hurry.

you tried making your first mocha latte with what ingredients they left behind - doesn’t taste as good but you don’t even have to wait long for the shadow to arrive and a man in a dark cloak takes the seat across from you.

“drakaina,” the words are slurred and dragged out but you’ve lived too many centuries not to know your own name.

“stop looking for them and i’ll serve as your aide,” it isn’t an offer. it’s an order. the cloaked figure lowers his head in submission of the power that reeks off your existence yet dare asks.

“but what can an ancient being like yourself do... your greatness,” he finishes off with a hail.

the first growl rips through the skies on an afternoon you know not what day of. nor what year. your chest lights up with flames of hell. scales line what used to be human skin as the roof caves over your growing form. the buildings collapse in with the gust of wind that your wings summon.

the wizard laughs. a manic look in his eyes.

the war does not last for longer than half a decade. none is able to withstand you. those that do lose their souls.

you’ve taken lives before without regards to its sanctity. you take them now with the sole regards to the two whom you lay your own for.

then comes the golden one. a dragon before your time - before most creatures’ times. if you’d made kings bow, she’d made the world submit to her will. that was, before she forgone it all and went into slumber. to think the golden one, fraener, would have allowed herself to be awoken by measly wars and to let a measly creature ride her- you must have caused the greatest of grief.

“child, your eyes scream anguish,” her voice rings loud and clear in your head as you zoom past her, barely missing her claws.

you do not respond.

“you’ve given birth to a life,” she sounds fascinated. delighted.

“i do not wish to fight a sister,” you project your own voice onto her conscience.

her growl thunders through the sky as she pins you down with her foot, “then you will die?”

“fool!” the cloaked wizard hisses from somewhere in the mountains, “get up! fight! or we’ll go for your child next! we know where they are.”

“i wish for a world where my child no longer needs to hide, please,” you whimper.

“your sacrifice is noble, young one,” her claws break your hard scales, you hear the howl of a dying beast.

the wizard’s incessant demands blur in your ears as the flames in your chest spreads through your body, burning your soul and eating you alive. in your last moments, you recall fraener’s ‘rest well,’ bid before petals peek through your scales. pastel pink, deep red and violet carnations fill your sight before you heart bursts.

“what meaning does carnations bear?” yoongi walks over to you from the kitchen, stacks of sandwich piled on top of a plate and placed on the coffee table in front of you.

“admiration... affection... devotion... a mother’s undying love,” a smile tucks on the corners of your lips.

min yoongi thinks he’s accomplished enough. acknowledgement of the magical community and treaties protecting beings mixed by blood.

he manages to protect his child from the hands of those who wish to take her away from him. fought an ancestor who went against him and succeeded.

he resides in the mountains, not too far from your dwelling. surrounded by fae’s and rock mountains and wallerbogs. she’s five centuries old and rather use her wings to catch the fae’s in hide-and-seeks rather than use her legs. the galaxy in her eyes never dim - not when she woke up without her mother greeting her with a kiss good morning, not when she suddenly stops giggling at the stick man yoongi made to keep her company when the first growl of a dragon tears through the sky and not when the last whimper echo throughout the skies before the golden one ended their ancient one.

the world started moving again. but his heart stopped along with yours that day.

the city you’d fought fraener in is left in ruins with wild carnations covering every crack of the earth - pluck one and two more grow.

“mama!” shar squeals and yoongi thinks he’s gone mad.

a woman is laughing and hugging his child when he’d cast a spell over the forest to make it impossible for those with hostile intentions to even pass through. let alone come all the way into its heart.

you look beautiful, laughing and lifting your child up in the air. trickles of melodic sounds falling off your lips.

yoongi doesn’t even want to know how - he gathers you in his arms, feels you against him, breathes in the familiar sweet scent of your existence.

only after he’s kissed you all over your face as you giggle, does he asks, “how?”

you show him the traces of scales that are still red and fresh on your skin - “i don’t know, the last thing i remember was fighting the golden one and then i woke up as a whelp somewhere in northern russia in a cave- i came as soon as i could transform into a human.”

it took awhile - a few decades to find your way back. but where your heart and soul lies, that is where you’ll always return to. no matter where you are, not matter what you are.

you’ll always find way back to your witch and little seedling.

note. this a request for the drabble game i’m holding. this is a stand alone, complementary piece to my long fic called wartime child! (jjk).

anyways, hope yall enjoyed!

#bts scenarios #bts fanfic #bts fic #bts x reader #yoongi x reader #yoongi fanfiction #yoongi fic #bts smut #yoongi smut #yoongi scenarios #yoongi imagines #bts imagination #bts au #yoongi #au #bts imagines #bts scenario #excerpt from a fic i’ll never write #drabble game 1

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giorno-plays-piano · 4 years

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Playing games Pairing: dark!Sebastian Stan x Reader Warning: yandere, swearing, some non-con implications towards the end. Words: 2069. P.S. JESUS CHRIST WHAT HAVE I DONE I AM A TERRIBLE PERSON I HOPE NO ONE WHO REALLY MET SEBASTIAN GONNA READ THIS ghjdfyjdfds I’m so sorry guys _____________________________________ “I asked for a vanilla latte with extra milk, not caramel cappuccino.”

You rolled your eyes at his irritated remark. You knew Sebastian wasn’t in his best mood this morning and expected him to make your day nastier just because he felt like it.

“Sorry, but I’m sure it was caramel cappuccino. You asked for some cinnamon on the top, remember?”

“No, I didn’t.” He snarled and looked at you, giving a mocha frappe to Jill, his hair artist. “I asked for a vanilla latte. If you suffer from memory loss, you’d better visit your doctor once we get back to US.”

What an asshole. Mary, who was now applying some makeup on Sebastian’s face with her beauty blenders and brushes, bit down on her lip: she had been watching how he treated you for the last 3 weeks, and it was a living nightmare. It was very odd since Sebastian was on good terms with pretty much everyone around, but you were always an exception. Why? Neither Mary nor Jill could tell. There was nothing revolting in the way you behaved around Mr. Stan, simply doing your job as his assistant. You were getting him coffee every morning, buying some personal stuff for him, managing his meetings… but you were more an errand girl, that’s true. It was surprising for most of the other people surrounding you two, but you didn’t object to your tasks. You were furious because of the way Sebastian treated you.

He was mean, unfair, irritating, and rude. You didn’t deserve it.

“Well, my voice recorder tells I got everything right.” You pulled it from the pocket of your below-knee sheath skirt, ready to press the button.

“What the fuck is that?” The man rose to his feet immediately, almost pushing frozen Mary out of his way and stepping towards you. “How many times do I have to tell you? NO. FUCKING. RECORDERS.”

He was ready to snatch it from your hands, yet you were able dodge him right on time, hiding the recorder in your pocket again.

“Ok, ok, I’m sorry, I’ll put it away!” In a second you were behind Jill’s tall figure as if you were a child hiding from a bad-tempered parent, Sebastian watching you with anger in his cold blue eyes. “I’m not going to use it. But it’s still true, you asked for caramel cappuccino.”

“Guess what? I don’t fucking care.” He growled in a low voice. “You’ll go and get me vanilla latte because it’s your goddamn job. And I want my coffee before Jill’s finished with my hair, understood?”

Watching his with clear disdain on your face, you cursed under your breath. It was freaking hot in Prague where Sebastian was filming now and getting out the second time just to run to Starbucks once more would sure ruin both your makeup and a white blouse you had been wearing. Damn it.

“God, why do you have to be such a bastard most of the time?” You snapped at him, visibly shaking with fury. “What the hell is wrong with you? Are you a closet psycho or what?”

“I’m the one who pays you, honey.” He smiled at you the same way he always did it in front of the camera and you felt sick.

You stormed off the room without having a glance back at his perfect white teeth. Sebastian Stan was the worst person you had ever met, and you were working for him, seeing him every day and listening to his orders as if you were his pet. How did it come to this? Why did he look like the most perfect human being to you six months ago? What made him behave like that to you when in reality it was him who offered you a job?

God, it was all messed up. You did not remember when things got so bad you could yell at each other in a full voice. It was actually surprising, someone like you shouting and swearing at one of the world’s most famous actors, but it was something Sebastian let you do. Like he wanted you to scream at him regardless who surrounded you whether it was his makeup artists, agents, cleaning ladies or anyone else. It was like he got off on it.

True, this job payed well, much better than the one you had before. Moreover, in these 6 months you saw more countries than you did in your entire life, travelling with Sebastian everywhere and meeting tons of new people, many of them being great professionals. It was inspiring; it made you dream of all the things you thought were impossible; it made you curious and gave you a chance to practice your networking skills.

But Sebastian was fucking blowing it. After six months of constant everyday battles filled with rage and pure hatred you had gained weight, 10 pounds to be precise. Now you were having problems to sleep, and you knew it wasn’t the jet lag.

Anyway, you spent the whole day running around the city to buy him this or that. In the evening you were so tired you could barely move your legs while Sebastian was clearly pleased seeing you like that. It probably stroked his enormous ego.

Fuck it. You didn’t deserve a minute of it. You were not going to let him ruin you for fun, just because he could it since he payed you. Why did you spend you precious time trying to please him? Sure, you still considered him one of the best actors on the planet, but the things he did to you were not ok. He wasn’t ok. Maybe he really was a psycho or had some disorder he didn’t want to treat, you had no idea. But you knew it couldn’t continue like that. It was too much.

You spent an hour writing an email and asking to be laid off. It was just a few lines, simple and professional, yet you were constantly adding and then erasing new sentences. You shouldn’t make it personal, you thought to yourself. You doubted you could leave on agreeable terms, but you needed to give it a try. Even if your last argument with Mr. Stan might be the worst of them all, it would be your last one. It was worth it.

Sighing, you decided to take a stroll before going to bed. 15 minutes wouldn’t hurt, right? You’d have some fresh air and enjoy the view of Prague’s Powder Gate – you were lucky to stay right in the center of this magnificent old city. You could make some more photos to show your friends once you return back home. It was also nice to just sit on a bench and look at the night sky full of stars.

Maybe then you wouldn’t feel so guilty for leaving Sebastian and your team.

In the end, it took you way more that 15 minutes, but your late-night walk made your thoughts clear and left no regrets about your choice. What was happening between you and Sebastian wasn’t right, and you could do nothing but leave. With so many people wishing to work for him he would get another assistant in a matter of hours, and you would get your life back. Those money you earned would keep you afloat quiet some time even if you wouldn’t be able to get a job right away.

“What is this, Y/N?”

His voice almost made you jump. Sebastian stood up from the chair in the corner of your room once you put on the lights. What the Hell was he doing here so late? How did he open the door? If he needed anything, he could simply give you a call.

Oh. You saw your little black recorder in his hand.

“I told you I won’t use it anymore.” Your jaw clenched.

“I’m not talking about this piece of shit.”

He tossed your recorder on your bed as if he couldn’t care less and moved towards you so fast you had no time to step back.

“What is this pathetic email you wrote?” Sebastian’s handsome face darkened. “Are you not right in the head? You want to leave?”

“Yes, I do. What’s wrong with that?” Your expression hardened. He dared to touch your laptop when you weren’t there. “I thought you’d be glad to know. Today you told me three times I didn’t deserve working for you, correct?”

“You know perfectly well I wasn’t serious.”

“God, I have a hard time telling when you’re serious since all you do is hating me.”

He sent you an icy glare.

“You know I don’t hate you. You just happen to bring the worst in me, dear.”

There he was again. God, were you going to have this argument right now when you were deadly tired? You hoped it could wait till tomorrow, but it was clearly not your luckiest day.

“If you want to blame me again, it’s ok. I’m the worst one. I’m a bad person and a terrible assistant.” You squeezed your eyes shut and sighed again, scratching your forehead. “I get it. What I don’t get is why you aren’t happy I’m leaving.”

“Because I don’t want you to leave. If I really hated you so much, I’d already found another assistant, but I don’t want that.”

“Listen, let’s stop playing our games just for a few minutes.” This conversation made you feel even more exhausted. “We don’t get along. You don’t like me. Why do we torment each other? I don’t even remember the last time we had a regular conversation without shouting and cursing.”

“I’m not playing games with you, dear. You do.” He had already cornered you, his face determined and somewhat unsettling. “What do you want? A raise? More benefits?”

You were ready to yell at him again.

“Did you listen to what I just said? I want to leave. I want to come home and forget about all our horrible fights. I want to have a steady and boring job back in US. Do you understand?”

“NO, I DON’T!” The man screamed at you again, and now you suddenly felt his arms clenching your shoulders painfully and winced from his touch. “I already told you to stop toying with me! After all this shameless flirting and batting your eyes you wanna tell me you’re leaving? Do you think I’m so stupid to believe in this bullshit?”

It took you a few seconds to process his words. What? Flirting? Well, you did consider him handsome and charming, who on Earth didn’t, but you had never pulled anything like that. At first, it was because of your professionalism, and then your relationships escalated so fast you knew that he hated you and you hated him. What Sebastian had been even talking about?

You felt very aware how close he was once you felt his heavy breath on your face. He never did this before.

“Listen, I don’t know what you’re talking about, but I want to leave. That’s all.” You tried pushing him back with your hands against his chest. “Please, let me go. I need to… t-to go to the kitchen.”

“You’re going nowhere, dear.” His expression darkened. “Tell me the truth. You don’t want me to treat you like my assistant? I get it, I get it, it’s fine. I can treat you like my girl in front of everyone if that’s what you want.”

“No! I – “

His put his hand on your mouth immediately, leaning in closer.

“It’s ok, I understand. I grew tired of pretending like nothing happens between us, too. You want me to let everyone now? It’s ok. I’ll post our photo on Instagram tomorrow. Is this what you want? Is this what you want?”

You tried to scream, but his grip on you was too strong as if Sebastian was really some kind of super soldier. Desperately trying to wriggle free you only got him to hold you tighter, his soft lips all over your face already wet with tears.

“It’s ok, dear. I got it.” He shushed you, trying to keep your arms together with his hand and pushing his knee in between your legs. “I’m sorry it took me so long. I understand now, so you don’t have to go. You won’t go, will you?”

You couldn’t answer him even if you wanted to.

#sebastian stan x reader #sebastian stan #dark sebastian stan #bucky barnes x reader #dark bucky barnes #winter soldier

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cinwmoon · 3 years

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𝘚 𝘏 𝘌 𝘓 𝘛 𝘌 𝘙

A Vikings Fanfiction-OCxIvar the Boneless | Coming soon on wattpad fanfictions

This is a translation of an existing fanfic on Wattpad and I am the author of it. Sorry for the errors, the translation was done on google translator.

≻───── ⋆✩⋆ ─────≺

Being so close to Ivar was surreal and as I looked at the flames in the fireplace, I thought how comfortable it was to be with him this way. For some reason, I felt an uncomfortable anxiety in my chest and my stomach bubbled and turned ... but all this in a delicious way. I settled more on his shoulder while I sighed and wanted to kiss his lips, feel his skin even closer to me and his warmth surrounding me more and more.

I pulled away slowly, still thinking about my desire, wanting to fulfill it all at once while I felt our faces touch each other in a tenuous way. I slid my hands up to the back of her neck, caressing it lightly, feeling the air fail me even without having done so. nothing and Ivar looked impatient, as he brought our lips together in an almost brusque way. I felt his softness while enjoying his kiss, smiling slightly while scratching the back of his neck gently. running one of my legs over him and sitting on his lap, caressing his face while his lips were still mistreating mine fervently.

His warm, rough hands roamed my bare back, making me shiver and wish for more of his touches. Ivar separated us by lowering his kisses to my neck, giving us time to catch our breath even though it still continued to instigate me .I sighed heavily and failed, while holding my little moans, feeling his warm tongue playing with one of the most sensitive areas of my body. Even though it was very good, it left me a little unsatisfied...I wanted his lips pressed against the mine and because of that, i pulled him by the braids so that his face was fully turned towards me and then i attacked him, kissing him in a more ardent way than before while he reciprocated me in the same way.

I tried to save my breath, but kissing him without stopping was almost a preview of paradise and that made me not care about my breathing. I felt my body in complete ecstasy and soon thought I wanted it. I wanted it for myself, I wanted Ivar to run his hands around my body without any shame, I wanted him to become his wife. And he needed to know that.

"Ivar..." I called out of breath, separating us and joining our foreheads, feeling him advance slightly in search of my lips again ."...Ivar, I need you." I whispered breathlessly and pleadingly, opening my eyes and finding him out of breath, just like me.

He was silent and slowly opened his eyes, letting me contemplate his beautiful, clear colors, which were slightly darker. Vario passed his eyes over me, looking slightly frightened, but at the same time, his irises were shining and I managed to see a smile outline starts on his face. But it didn't last long, Ivar averted his eyes, placing them anywhere else in the room, gathering his eyebrows and taking a deep breath. I felt his hands on my hips lift me off him, placing myself beside him in the recaimer and at this moment it was me who put my eyebrows together, feeling bad...was he...rejecting me?

"It is late, it is better that you go to your room."Ivar said simple taking the cane that was supported on the table near the recaimer and got up, walking to another place. Even if it didn't show much, I managed to feel a little bitterness or sadness in the tone of your voice.

I could remember the story that Idália told on the day of the party, about Ivar not getting excited...Maybe he is not rejecting me, maybe it is because of the problem of his masculinity. But I do not understand...I managed to do it feeling desire long ago...I can’t make him wish for me anymore? Or he can’t keep wanting for longer? Surely he would never talk to me about it.

I sighed seeing him sitting with his back to me on the bed, while taking off his prostheses and I got up, going towards him. I climbed on the bed, abandoning my sneakers on the floor and approached him to then hug him from behind, resting a of my hands on your chest and another on your abdomen, settling my head on your back.

"Esther, go to your room."Ivar said again, not seeming to want me to do it in the end. I squeezed him in my arms and felt him place one of his hands on my left forearm, hearing him sigh almost imperceptibly .

Ivar was tense, just like earlier. However, at this point, he was tense and upset, it was easy to see that...or I'm just getting used to it and starting to understand his feelings.

"I won't go anywhere." I replied even though I didn't need to, in a low way. "Can you close my dress?" I asked, letting go and turning around, listening to his movement behind me and soon I felt him doing what I asked, but in the end it didn’t tighten so much and I thanked myself mentally for it.

I went to the nightstand and blew the candles out of the candlestick and pulled the blankets from the bed to get under them, watching Ivar erase the candlestick on his side with his fingers without any problem, pressing the wick of the candles. I was able to see him lie down and cover himself with the blankets, keeping his attention on the ceiling. Var was uncomfortable, but not with the place or with me - probably - I sighed low approaching and leaned my head on his shoulder, hugging your arm under the blankets.

"Ivar, can you tell me a story? "I asked, knowing that in the end it could distract him and consequently make me fall asleep.

Ivar didn't answer me quickly, so I assumed he was thinking of something. Soon I heard him sigh and shift, putting his arm over me, which made me let go and settle on his chest while I felt his hand rest on my waist. Then Ivar started to start a story and I soon realized that it was Ragnar, his father, and even though I had heard it before by Hvitserk, I couldn't interrupt him. He told the story in a more exciting way and I was able to smile with that, realizing that he had his father as a hero. His low voice and the warmth of his body made everything even more comfortable and easy to imagine.Ivar took small breaks for a few times and I knew he he did this because he was remembering Ragnar, and now and then he was able to perceive a slight regret in his words.

"I liked..." I said after a while that Ivar concluded his words.

"Tell me one."Ivar said and I sighed, thinking of the countless stories kept in my mind.

"There will be no heroism, so please don't make fun of me..." I said, laughing softly ."...I will tell you the day I almost died twice."

"There is no way to die twice, Esther."Ivar said and I could swear he rolled his eyes.

"It is better that you do not doubt my ability...doing impossible things is very easy for me."I said laughing."When I was a child, I used to go out hunting together with Isack and my father ..." I spoke while I felt my smile fade and continue with much less enthusiasm than when I started ."...that day was being very good because we were looking for wolves, so we could get the furs and see if there were any abandoned cubs. I remember perfectly begging and disturbing my father for a puppy...he was about to pull his hair out with me, but he promised me that we would look for one and said that if we found it, I could stay with him. So we went into the forest around the kingdom, we got deeper and deeper through the trees and a few good minutes later, I stumbled, fell off balance and fell. With the fall, I rolled down the hill towards the cliff and severely injured my hands trying to stop rolling...probably everyone in the world got the hear my father's and Isack's screams of terror. By a miracle, I managed to stop rolling when I was on the rocks, on the edge of the cliff. I could hear my father say, "Get up carefully, these rocks give way!" and I remember being in a panic while trying to do what he told me...obviously I just wanted to get out of there. He said to me “Don't cry, honey. , she is so delicate...come to her father like a feather... ”"Smile pausing my story, feeling my eyes fill with tears. do not feel worried because he was completely terrified. But then, even with my care, the rocks gave way and I fell..." I paused quickly when I felt Ivar's light grip on my waist ."...Luckily there was another stone just below, so I fell into it sitting. I could hear my father's scream and after a few seconds I saw him protrude from the precipice, meeting me just below. He thanked the heavens and held out his hands to me, telling me to hurry up and leave that place right away. Since I was still scared, I didn't hesitate to obey him and it didn't take long for us to be safe again...he couldn't let me go for the rest of the day..." I smiled slightly as I remembered my father's hugs and how careful he was with me, we went months without hunting because of this story. I felt a tear flow and tried to catch it so that Ivar's breastplate was not yet exposed, but I was not quick enough ." ...sorry." I whispered and felt his loud sigh.

"The person who should say that is me."Ivar said calm."If it weren't for my great emotional control you wouldn't be like that..." Said ironically ."...I didn't mean to do that, it wasn't in my plans. I didn't want to that you were afraid or angry with me...and I still don't want to. I remember very well who killed my father and I sought revenge against him...I'm sure that every day you look into my eyes, you remember that I was responsible for taking your father and seeking revenge, I will not defend myself, because I deserve it." He said quietly and I could feel his chest tremble slightly, while his heart was racing and fast.

I stood up, leaning on his torso, facing him and analyzing his features even though he was not very lit. His eyes passed over me, but they did not look into mine and his breathing, I realized that he was slightly distressed.

"Ivar, if that's what you need to hear...I forgive you for having done it." I spoke softly, watching his eyes meet mine, confused.

"Why do you forgive me? "Basked quietly still confused.

"I had already forgiven you before, when he spared Isack ... I forgave you because it is better to have a bird in hand for two flying and why my father made me promise that he would not seek revenge...in the end he knew that I wouldn't have a chance if I did. But I can't lie, it's still painful to think about your death and...remembering that it was you...makes everything even worse. And now he's with my mother in paradise...I feel like he's happy."I finished with a smile as I directed my eyes to the buttons of her blouse. “You don't need to think about it...I wouldn't be able to hurt you or kill you.”

"Why? " Asked again.

"Because you have become someone important to me.”I saw him swallow quickly as he raised his eyebrows and turned his irises away from mine, so I could see his eyes sparkle slightly because of the few tears.

"I do not deserve this, Esther...I do not deserve you to be here, I do not deserve you to take care of me...I am nobody. I am nothing."Spoken and it was my turn to gather my eyebrows.

"No…you aren’t nothing..." I said taking one of my hands to his face and pulling him towards me ."...You are Ivar the Boneless, the strongest man I know. of people, the conqueror. Do you know how much you should be proud of yourself? " I asked breathlessly, watching him run his eyes over me quickly."I know people who even living perfectly well, without any kind of disability, would never be able to get to the place where you are. I can say that even I would not be able to do it. "

Ivar took my hand and directed it to his lips, having his attention on me.

"I see in front of me a determined man, a king, who, like all the other people in the world, has defects. While it is great, it is also broken and everything is fine..." I spoke vehemently ."... because You are much more than others say and I see that there is not only darkness inside your chest. You are much more than you think of yourself, Ivar.”He caress me lightly and that made me close my eyes and enjoy.

"You are not real."Ivar said and I was confused, opening my eyes and finding his attentive and meticulous, still brilliant."Sometimes I imagine that all this is just a dream...that you are just a dream that I do not want to wake up.

"This is the reality.it is not a dream.” I said, whispered approaching and stealing a slow but short kiss.

I parted slightly, running my fingers over his face as I felt him move my hair.

"It is still hard to believe."Ivar said low, analyzing me and that made me smile small.

"Hey...I'm here and will continue to be from dusk until dawn...if you still want me."I spoke low, still caressing your face.

"I would be an idiot if you didn't want to." Told me and it made me smile again."If you are real, then you can't be just a woman..." You spoke and I was confused again ."...I still remember my first dream about you, the one that made me look for you, while I said to myself that I was only conquering more kingdoms. So by decree of the gods I came here, when I was making the recognition of the territory ...it was the first time I saw you..."

"Have you been here before the war?"I asked confused, since I didn't know that and I saw him nod once.

"You didn't see me...but I watched you carefully, finally understanding the signs of the gods and unraveling who was the woman who disturbed me every night with the same dream."Ivar answered me."I think you are one of them."

"A goddess? "I asked playfully."No...I am more of a mortal who has no sanity."

“Suits you very well."Ivar spoke and I rolled my eyes still amused."The goddess of madness, the one who has no sanity and on top of that, take off those of others."Said stirring my hair.

"That looks pretty bad.”

"Not for me."

"Then you won't do anything if I drive you completely crazy? "I asked.

"You already drive me completely crazy." He directed his eyes to mine, with his usual defiance.

"Good to know that this is my effect on you. Since I am a goddess...are you willing to be my slave?"I opened a small and evil smile, quickly raising a single eyebrow.

"If I am the only one to serve you, yes."Ivar said opening a roguish smile and I laughed, hitting his chest lightly.

"You shouldn't have accepted."I said laughing while closing the buttons of her blouse.

"Why?Will you go to mistreat?" He asked slightly amused and I shrugged.

"You cannot know about your future, because now it belongs to me."I mocked seeing his closed smile quickly and laying me on his chest again.

"So be it."I heard him agree and it amused me even more.

I settled on his chest and closed my eyes to sleep, while I felt strangely lighter. Ivar's fingers caressed my hair and he had a calm breath, which made me calmer, the smooth movement of his chest relaxed me and the heat created between us made me feel comfortable.

"Let’s go to sleep."I said low still with eyes closed.

“Won't you kiss me good night? "Ivar asked and another laugh took hold of my face due to your audacity.

I stood up and held his face, bringing our lips together in a soft, calm touch, feeling his softness again as his tongue caressed me gently. I parted, sucking his lower lip slightly and in the end, Ivar gave me a quick seal, concluding our kiss which made me lie on your chest with a smile.

"Are you satisfied?"I asked.

"Much."

#ivar the boneless #ivar fanfic #ivar ragnarsson #vikings #vikings fanfic #alex hogh andersen #ivar lothbrok #ivar imagine #wattpad fanfic #imagine #fanfic

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wangxiangiftexchange · 3 years

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Lunar New Year Gift for alightbuthappypen!

For @alightbuthappypen, I wish you a happy lunar new year, last year was a tough one for everyone around the world. We had to carry too many burdens besides the ones already on our shoulders, so I hope this cheers you up a litte. And if you are totally fine, then just enjoy it. I hope you like it, Im a bit shy to aproach and start conversation, but I tried to stick to the letter in your resquest.

*****

let me adjust my grip, don’t slip

When Lan Sizhui fell unexpectedly ill, it took less than a day for the Yilling Patriarch to arrive at the doors of Cloud Recess.

Lan Wangji suspected it had something to do with their mutual undead acquittance, but when Uncle asked with a suspicious tone, implying things that made his soul tremble with anger. He just fisted his hands behind his back and said “They have a bond; he has a place besides his bedside...”

He wanted, he really wanted to run to the infirmary to be with them. But his duties couldn’t be dismissed easily, in fact, he had several weeks of pending work with the sects that he already asked to be delegated. Yet, he still needed to hand over a list of priorities and names of the people assigned to them, and it was taking him too long already.

He tried to let that the methodical task of sealing scrolls with wax and metal distracted him from his convoluted feelings with the unexpected situation.

The night before while having dinner, the Junior had collapsed to the surprise of all. They took him to the infirmary right away, and not caring about appearances he followed. He spends a long night seated by the little table in the private suit where Lan Sizhui was being attended and probed and examined.

He knew that he had not the correct training to know, do or solve whatever it was happening to him, it fell into the proper and experienced hands of the doctors and healers of the sect. Nevertheless, he jumped lightly whenever they turned the boy in the bed, whenever the men made observations and humming noises, it was the need to run at his side, put his hand over his forehead.

Still, it became obvious very early in night that this was beyond of what he could do to help. By morning they still didn’t know what it was happening, but at least the junior hadn't worsened, and very painedly he had to separate and do his responsibilities.

By the time it was meal time, he was informed of the arrival of Wei Ying. But as he couldn't meet with them, he wondered if they knew something by now. If Wei Ying had come storming by the doors frantically asking to see the boy, walking in circles on his room, hand on his chin asking questions and answering himself while he unraveled the malady with the genius he only could possess.

Something about the idea made his chest ache with longlines.

It's been almost three months since his last visit. He knows, he counts the days with ease born out of experience.

One day since he last saw Wei Ying.

Two days since he lasts seen Wei Ying....

Three.....

One week....

One month....

One Year...

sixteen years...

Counting days was not healthy he knew. But he never could help himself. Some part of him is afraid that the count grows again. Days and days that ache with guilt, with lose...with love...

Three months it's not a very long time if compared with the long wait. But some days, the heavy loaded ones, the stressful ones, it does. It does hurt like it. He wished he could end those days walking to his private room and seem him, see his beautiful welcoming smile. To know he is there and would never go again.

Still, it's not something that can be solved. What right does he have to ask Wei Ying to stay here? Hes as free as he wants, as free as he always wanted.

He understands, he did travel the land too, he was not free exactly, he was running away, hiding his morose mourning and his inability to let go of the past from his family and peers. But he knows there is solace in the open skies of empty roads and peaceful farmed fields, fulfilling the promise they made, he failed him in many ways, but at least he gave himself to the task of fighting evil.

Mourning...Wei Yings needs it as much as he did.

He thought he could follow him, it was his plan as soon as he found him again at Dafan mountain, as he was sweep up his feet by his bright personality, his laughter, his brilliant mind once again. Being with him at all times. But....

But what right does he have to be free of responsibility?

After all, Lan Huan was tasked with their sect since he was born. But that didn’t mean he had to carry the load by himself. And yet, while he was roaming around, raising a kid. His brother never asked him do to his responsibilities if he was not up to them. His brother was sympathetic and caring, and worked and worked without help for years.

Now Lan Huan was suffering his own grief, his own mourning and his own count. But he knew that his was meant to last forever.

Staying here, being the acting sect leader, and being the chief cultivator really was the only retribution to his filial brother. He might harbor a great dislike to all of the sects and clans across the land for the wrongdoings committed to Wei Ying, to them both.

But he couldn’t just walk away while his brother was heartbroken and alone. Or can I?.... his mind thinks but he erases the thought and the doubts as fast as he can.

He can't ask Wei Ying to stay, and he can't follow him either. So, it was just another wait, probably not as endless as the first had felt, but something in him just wants it so desperately to end.

However, there still was something to confess, something kept deep on his chest for as long as he can remember. It probably is because during those years, this feeling just grew and grew until he could no longer remember a time when he didn’t feel like this.

It was like roots had taken over until they filled his chest and touched his soul. Tangling deep into his whole being.

He carried Wei Ying in his heart as one carries a lamp in the darkness. Sometimes warm, and sometimes ardently, but always the light he followed like a moth since he was young.

Where he to confess those feelings to him, would he feel compelled to return them even if Wei Ying does not feel the same? would he stay here with him the way he wants him?

Hes the type of person that sacricifies what he feels and what he wants for the people he cares about. No matter how undeserving of such sacrifice those people could be. Or more exactly how underserving Jiang Waying is. But he does not care to follow that line of thinking because it is against the rules to think so poorly of another sect Leader.

He should feel ashamed to think himself so important in Wei Ying’s life, but it wouldn’t be enough for him to feel obligated to accept something as deviant as being an open cut sleeve just because he cares about Wangji, and it wouldn’t be right. He wants him to sincerely return his feelings, but who would accept such disgrace.

If he feels he owns him something for helping him solve Meng Yaos plot, he’ll never ask for anything. Wei Ying should stop feeling guilty, especially about this because firstly, it was the right thing to do, and second because everything he did was because he wanted.

He wanted to absolve Wei Ying’s reputations, because he wanted him to stop feeling guilty for things that happened so many years ago and weren't even his fault to begin with.

Even before knowing the whole truth, he suspected for years that something or someone had played a hidden evil hand. He spends years questioning his own memories, questioning what everyone accepted as facts and truths, because his heart told him, it always told him that Wei Ying was not the evil person they invented in their twisted minds.

It was then that he noticed that this was the last scroll he needed to prepare to send, so he put out the heating lamp and put aside his official seal, he didn’t stop to clean it as it was his routine and just put it on his sleeve pocket on his haste to reunite with his family.

He didn’t run, but he speed walked on the empty corridors until he arrived. Once he opened the door, he was greeted with a sight that made his heart ache.

Many years ago, when Sizhui was still a child, a fragile little thing that clung to his robes. He would catch colds in the winter. He was from warmer lands, and even if he never was raised on them, something in him always made him unprepared for long chilly winters. It was true even after he stopped being underfeed and was getting round rosy cheeks.

He would lay in bed, while Wangji spend the night rubbing his back with medicinal herbs and would sing him lullabies. It would be just the two of them by the candle lights, with warm coils burning on the stove. It would get warmer and warmer, but he still felt a cold inside his chest and ribcage, creeping up and down his scarred back, an empty heartbeat, the pang of lost.

Something would whisper on his ear Wei Ying’s name, and how needed he was. How he missed him. He wanted to say to him. What I am doing? Why I am doing this without you? What I am doing with your child?

He would imagine a life where Wei Ying was with them, so close to the image that greet him now, that he felt like that dream was finally true.

Wei Ying was on the floor, lightly petting Sizhui hair and whispering sweet things.

He noticed him then, and the spell broke, and the mirage that mixed reality and hopes fell apart. Wei Ying smiled tiredly and raised from his place to invite him to sit with him by the table.

“How is he doing?”

“It's not getting worse....”

“Do they know something now?”

“They do...” he sighed. “It's a curse. I already questioned Lan Jingyi about it. But he just told me he had no idea, he said nothing was amiss, nothing had gone wrong on their last night hunt. He noticed nothing weird.”

“He wouldn’t...” he sighed.

“Hes not very observant, I agree, that why I drilled him with questions, even force him to tell me an hourly account of their trip, and there was something”

He nodded expectingly.

“Some strange looking lady tried to sell them flowers by the road. When they didn’t, she became erratic and tried to.... offer them a different...kind of flower....”

He frowned.

Wei Ying laughed. “Yeah, she offered to sleep with them for a piece of silver. When they said no, she tried to hug them, Jingyi pushed her off of course, but Sizhui being as kind as he is, tried to help her go to the next town, but she pushed him, screamed and ran to the woods. They thought she was just a very poor crazy woman and brush it off....”

“Thats not unusual”

“It is not unusual although very sad, but it’s the only thing that came to my attention...everything else was as they said, just a normal night hunt.”

“What kind of curse”

“The slow one at least, it's obvious he was pinched with a needle on the neck, its going down...” he said looking at the table. “We have a lead now, it's better than nothing”

“umm” he agreed.

“We should depart at the earliest”

“Why not tonight?”

Wei Ying smiled sadly. “He was....he was asking for his dad....”

Wangji’s hands clenched and all the air in his lungs was pushed out and let him breathless

“You really are his father....” he said.

“He called me that when he was little until Uncle stopped him. I let him do it when were alone....”

“I was a little hurt Hanguan-Jun. You stole my child....” He sounded truly sad.

“He’s....he’s yours too”

“But he was asking for you...his father”

“Because.....you are his mother”

That made Wei Ying laughs and wipe the sadness out of his eyes.

“So shameless!” he keeps laughing. “waiting all these years to deliver such a punch line Hanguan Jun. Your sense of humor is twisted and no one would think it of his excellency”

He could feel his lips pushing to fight the smile carried by his laughter

“I suppose I dig my own grave with that one Lan Zhan” he keeps with a light teasing smile. “But I did say I was...And I want to spend the night here if you don’t mind”

“I don’t, Theres blankets on the trunk”

He stood up to retrieve them and put them on the floor by the bed. He put another set besides the one already on the floor.

“What?, is his excellency spending the night on the floor”

“umm” he nodded.

“But Lan Zhan, the floor is uncomfortable, you should go to your bed”

“I'm not” he simply said to avoid the argument.

Wei Yings shoulders dropped in defeat and only prepare himself to sleep by striping of his outer layer. He gave him privacy by turning his back and doing the same before laying side by side on the floor.

“He looks peaceful, they gave him tea to sooth him and ease the symptoms.”

He looked at the youth and Wei Ying smiled sadly.

“He still looks so young even if he is becoming a man in everyone's eyes. But early today he looked as when he was little and was so tired, he got crackly before his nap. I could tell he wanted to stick his fingers on his mouth”

He smiled gently. “It was hard to break him out of that habit”

“I can imagine. Were you harsh on him?”

Wangji frowned and said “no”

“Well, I was a little bit, I was not in the best place, and sometimes I was so tired, and so angry with the world. And he was just a child, he didn’t know better, he was lonely and wanted to play. I regret snaping at him”

“He missed you too”

“I Thought he didn’t remember much”

“He doesn't now. But the first days he would ask for you in his feverish state, Lan Huan sleep with him but he cried until he was allowed to stay with me”

“Such a little manipulator he was”

“It was because he didn’t recognize this place, or those people”

“Yeah, I bet he was sad”

“Um” he nodded. “Didn't ask only for you, he wanted all his family back”

“I'm really sorry he had to experience that, I could have done more, or the right thing...I keep thinking what could I have done different”

“Pointless, can't change the past”

“I know, but I can't forget, is a burden I must carry if nothing else. It was a mistake; I shall live with the regret”

“Stop blaming yourself, what does that accomplish?”

“Aiyooo” he said. “I know you are right, but I can't help myself, I can't just forget you know, and when you remember something, you always get to wonder what if....”

“Then find solace in the fact, that he survived, and he was cared for, looked after”

“I do that too. I'm so grateful you took him in, he couldn’t have ended in better hands, he was seriously lucky, you didn’t just give him a chance, you gave him a whole new better life, he wouldn't have ended such a fine gentleman with me and with his family even if they had survived”

“Would have offered him an education in Gusu Lan anyway”

Wei Ying smiled softly. “I'm sure you would have, the way you looked at him that day in Yilling. I know the look of a mother hen when I see one. You wanted to gift him the world, feed him until he got fat, and teach him manners, am glad you still got to do it in the end”

“And yet...I couldn't even save Wei Ying, the person he needed the most”

“Lan Zhaaaan, stop, stop!. Alright, we already said Theres no point in regret, I won't do it, if you don’t either. In fact, we already made a pact about it, no more regrets. That was then, but this is now. We have to solve this, I'm here now, I can't lose him, this is entirely different..., he’s...he’s ours”

“Ours...” he said in affirmation.

“It's almost nine, we should sleep, we have a long way tomorrow. We have to find this mysterious crazy hugger in the woods.”

“Um” he nodded and closed his eyes.

It took just a few moments for his routine and his command to take over his body, but while he waited. He relished in the fact, that the room was warm, that he could hear two sets of breathings in rhythm. The room was lived in. No more emptiness. No more cold.

+2+

Lan Wangji woke up before first call. Lately, he found himself awake before he was due. It might be the stress of the job; he did have too many responsibilities that took his days away and didn’t allow his mind to rest at night. Much less the pleasure of meditation.

It might also be an age thing. He heard from uncle that it happened to him too around this age. It was a strange notion that the mind, still felt the passage of time even if his cultivation didn’t allow his body to age in a normal rate.

He looked young; his strength still was that of a young man. And yet, time did come to pass. Sizhui was the more affected by it. There where once lay a baby, now was an adolescent. But when he looked at Wei Ying peaceful sleeping, he still saw the young man he was when he died...

At first it was shock to see him as if not a single day had passed. But it had, Wangji himself didn’t look more than twenty-nine. Even if he was already thirty-five. But Wei Ying looked so young still.

But he couldn't be considered naïve, he saw too much, suffered too much to be a child. He was just barely older than Sizhui, but he lived a whole life time over. As they sleep like this, they looked like two young brothers, so precious and innocent wrapped by their dreams.

He felt old, tired and alone inside way before he meet Wei Ying at seventeen. But as soon as he stormed into his life, Wei Ying provoked the child on his soul. How much he wanted to be free, playful. He wanted to chase him, to joke and laugh. Run as fast as he wanted, rules be dammed.

He didn’t get to do that at the end of those days. But he did run behind his memories, after his retreating back on his own dreams, chasing him and never being able to hear him or touch him. Oh how much he missed him. How much he wished he had the courage to do all he wanted before it was too late.

And now that he was back, he still couldn’t be with him, because he couldn't chase him anymore. How unfair it was. To have waited so long and still don't have what he wanted. Even it was the facsimile of just being in his company.

He should have been a child when he could, because now he was a true man and responsibilities couldn’t be thrown away, he can't justify in younthness his actions or his wants. If he had chance with him, I would have been years away, he could have a stolen a kiss and pass it off as ignorant imprudence and improperty, he might have been forgiven. Be excused with it, and say he didn’t know better.

Wei Ying might have even returned it then.

But now he does. He does know better and how inappropriate it is.

But he wants....he wants so much.

As he sees Wei Ying sleeping. His whole soul plays a different tune. Lust tights his fist around him, and he burns ardently with desire.

Every time, every single time Wei Yings calls him “Lan-er-gege". He’s no listening the innocent way a young man calls an elder. Oh no. All he hears is the tilt a shameless woman uses to seduce a man.

The way it sounds as a beckoning call to her bedchamber. And he knows Wei Ying is only teasing, only playing with him.

He never stopped trying to make him play with him. But how can he answer in jester, when these things provoke the man in him? He should be ashamed, and he is.

But he can't help himself. He drinks the image of rosy lips, soft skin and messy black hair. His long beautiful eyelashes. Even if he is a proper man, he still looks delicate, soft in young masculinity.

He wants to destroy the person lucky enough to have him, even if it is a woman or man. Even if is only just an idea. Because he knows there's no such person lurking on his life. Or maybe he just doesn't want to think there is. Wei Ying hasn’t spoken of anyone new on his letters.

Wei Yings writes him about people yes, but as always is in a disinterest rude manner, sometimes he can't even remember the name of the people he just meet. No one has cached his attention.

He really doesn't want to see it happen. Same as the day Lan Sizhui began noticing women and he felt pride and fear in equal measures. Pride, because he was so gentle, and one day he would be happy knowing love. And afraid because he was already mourning his child. The innocent chubby baby he wrapped on blankets and allowed to sleep on his shoulder.

However, he can't decide what is the appropriated feeling regarding Wei Ying and the concept that one day, he might be with someone he wants. It hurts to think about it. To imagine him so happy and in love.

And it makes him angry to feel this way, what claim does he have? -- none, and truly Wei Ying deserves all the happiness he can get on his second chance. He suffered and sacrificed enough; he deserves everything.

Wangji let his chance go, and he has to suffer those consequences.

Wei Ying is far away and so close. Hes right here just a foot apart. If he extends his hand, he can touch, and he is tempted. His fingers ache with the desire to feel his warm presence. Instead, he coils his fist tightly.

+3+

When he comes back with a light breakfast, Wei Ying is already on his feet, already scribbling away in parchment an assortment of talismans.

“I may need them” he says as an explanation while he finishes with the ink and hastily moves the paper away to make room. “Lan Zhan....” he says and Wangji looks up from the plates. But he is pointing to the bed, where Sizhui is awake with half lidden eyes.

He goes to him and puts a hand over his forehead. He’s warm with a light fever.

“How are you feeling?” he still asks.

Sizhui moans.

“That good uh?” jokingly answers Wei Ying while he sits on the bed.

“A- diē” he moans. But his eyes aren't fixed on one of them, they go from one to the other, making unclear to whom he calls.

“We are here A-Yuan" says Wei Ying. “Here, Lan Zhan got you sweet soup, you still like it right?”

He can feel the tiny smile taking over his lips.

“Bába.... a- diē....” says Sizhui raising his hand shakily, Wangji takes it.

“yes...” says Wangji. “Bába wants to give you soup, be a good child”

A-Yuan nods feverish, Wei Yings eyes are shinning like the ponds in Yummeng, but he gathers the strength to feed A-Yuan the soup and the tea before the boy falls sleep again.

“I hope he doesn't get upset if he doesn't find us the next time he wakes”

“I’ll made sure his cousin is here to keep his company”

“We better hurry with this task then, it pains me to depart”

They rushed with their breakfast even if it is against the rules, but it's just the two of them and really, that is one unrealistic rule. Life can get so fast at times, that chewing trughly can wait for more placid times.

By noon they have covered several li of distance, he can see Wei Ying has regained much needed strength in the last months. But by meal time, they decide to make a quick stop at an Inn to eat.

“Oh no, I'm just power walking” says Wei Ying when he tells him what he thinks. “I gained a little weight, but I'm not near as strong as before. I don’t think I’ll ever will, especially since I'm relaying in talismans rathe that demonic cultivation. But the pshyquical weakness is here to stay, I'm just a normal guy, takes me ages to reach my destinations”

“It will do no good if Wei Ying tires excessively then” he says. “I should acquire horses”

“Well, it will be even faster, and as ashamed as it makes me feel, it would be helpful"

“Theres no shame in admitting weakness”

“But I don’t want to become a burden for anyone”

“Wei Ying is no burden”

“So, you say, but you have to admit it makes things awkward with the sects, having me around and bothering such a stemmed cultivator like yourself”

“They are the ones who should be ashamed of being burdens, because they are...all the time”

Wei Ying laughs deep. “Such a burden Lan Zhan, I can't even...; some of those men can even wipe their asses without assistance”

“It's been very troublesome, but I can't just....”

“I know” cuts Wei Ying with a tired smile. “They do need you....”

“I rather be traveling.... like this...with you” he says lowering his eyes because he can't stop the furious beating of his heart.

Wei Ying laughs awkwardly. “It doesn’t think you’ll like it, I'm sure you would be bored by me pretty soon”

“I really can't imagine that....”

“Of course, no, with men like clan leader Yao and Ouyang lowering the intelligence of a room”

“So, you do know it happens the opposite when you are in it?” He sneaks a glance and Wei Ying is fumbling with his cup and blushing.

“I suppose, if you put it like that, then yes, yes of course I am better company”

“Then your presence can't be called a burden”

“Lan Zhan, politics make you very....” he fishes for a word, but keeps opening and closing his mouth. “Flirty...”

As soon as he says it, Lan Zhan feels the warmth creeping up and up, until he also knows he has blushed. But also, the victory of it. Feeling like he did something right, like he won, he feels satisfaction. He feels accomplishment. But like an addict, his body craves the attention with powerful intention, like a possession of the mind. He wants more of it.

“You are being very talkative now”

He huffs a quiet laugh. “Couldn't stop them from arguing unless I found witty responses to shup them up”

“But you had always being witty with your remarks. It something else, you aren't minding your words.”

He thinks about it, and its true on some level. Being acting sect Leader, and Chief cultivator, has forced him to talk more than he is comfortable, it's not on his nature, but things weren't get done, and frosty commands and final decisions made the sect leaders feel like he was becoming an evil overlord, they hadn't felt threatened by Meng Yao at all. Not even once even if he was a true devil mal.

Nie Huaisang had given him an unsolicited advice, but that it turned out it really was helpful.

He would never be like his brother, who had a sweet and kind disposition. But it turned out that if he explained things more and engaged in conversation more, the sect leaders had a very different disposition.

But he was by no means, a flirty leader. It was just Wei Ying.

It was like a broken dam, and words and feelings were leaking tru the cracks. He needed to...express this warm thing on his chest, it wanted to get out.

“Just with you” he clarified once again, not controlling himself or his feelings.

“Whatever it is. I can't say I'm displeased.” He smiles. “You are witty and intelligent and funny! I would love to see you in session”

“You should come”

“I don't think the leaders would appreciate it like you do, would make them angry. And It would make me angry if they say something stupid”

“You still should come. Things are getting settled, and they could see you are in no way a treat, and you know I would never...turn my back on you”

“I know you wouldn't, you haven't done it since I returned, I'm not even sure if you ever did, even in the past. Maybe I was too stupid to see it, but you have always been on my side, and it makes me happier than I can describe. For that reason, I can't cause trouble to you...”

“Theres no trou...”

“Let's get going Lan Zhan, we have yet a long road ahead”

It feels like punch to the gut, disappointment grips him hard. He lowers his eyes and nods.

They do acquire horses. And as soon as they hit the road outside of town, Wei Ying speeds the horse freely. He can see his satisfied smile when he shouts.

“This is an upgrade of that stupid lovely donkey!!”

Wei Ying knows how to ride with elegance and with power, he is good at it, like he is good in a lot of other gentlemanly arts. And it is a beautiful visage, seeing him riding into the sunset.

But as beautiful as he is, it still feels like Wangji is running behind his back, like he’s always dragging his feet in a race. Following at close heals, but never enough. Fingers brushing mere seconds before his hands slips and he falls, until he is lost forever.

Slow down Wei Ying.

Please slow down...he wants to say.

Let me catch up, let me adjust my grip, don’t slip.

+4+

They arrive to their destination by night fall, in the morning they’ll have to ride a few li more before reaching the forest, but it doesn't make sense to keep going, whatever the woman in the woods is hiding. They wouldn’t find her at night. The forest has too many foliage, and there's lots of places a soul can hide during the night.

But the Inn in town is overcrowded and they only have a room for both of them. It's no trouble really, they have camped and sleep in shared rooms before.

Only it is a problem now, because Wangji has been feeling.....

He’s been feeling like his heart wants to come out of his chest. Like it wants to jump out of his ribcage. Like he can't breath a second longer, the feeling beats wildly out of his cage of control.

And it hurts, it hurts so much, because he wants, he wants so much.

So close and so far, away, and his shoulders feel heavy loaded with despair. He just wants to hug him, feel him alive, touch his warmth with the tips of his fingers. But he knows it won't be just that.

It stopped being enough seeing him from afar. But It would never be enough, if he touches him, he would crave it, he would desire. He wouldn’t be able to control it.

He thought he could control those feelings, because it became obvious why he couldn’t be with him. Why he couldn’t force this feeling on him.

He promised himself that as long as Wei Ying was alive and happy or content. As long as he was in no danger. He was happy and content too.

But it is a lie.

And the pain, the sorrow, the despair feels as big as mourning his death once felt, maybe even worse, because he’s right there with a brilliant smile.

He feels like he is falling, but the wrong way, the desperation, the frustration. Those kinds of feelings are the kind that make a good man turn bad.

He’s shaking with it, and he is ready to renounce everything, just for the chance to have him. Ready to let the sects destroy themselves. Sick and tired of their petty disputes. He feels compelled to even renounce his family, abandon his brother in time of need, just for a chance to be with Wei Ying.

But he is better than this. Wei Ying wouldn't even want him is he ever did such a traitorous thing. They promised to be good, to do justice and good deeds to the world.

And yet....he is angry.

Why does destiny take this from him?

This only thing he wants and needs, and it's not even the flesh sexual act what he wants. He has no desire to force him, it's not his desire to be with him skin against skin.

Although it is too.

But he wants so much more than just that. He’s burning with the desire to be with him when he goes to bed, when he wakes up in the morning, he wants to be there when he laughs, when he gets melancholic about the past. He wants to be the guardian of his dreams, and the protector during his nightmare's.

He just wants to be there for all of it for the rest of his life.

And then so more in the next and the next, and the next. Because it pains him to imagine another lifetime so far away from his very soulmate.

Red string and knot around his core, soul, and heart.

It's unfair.

+++5+++

By dinner time, his fingers felt cold, his chest hollow, empty, throbbing with each breath.

“Hanguan-Juan, why are you so upset, Sizhui will be fine”

“um” he nods and drinks from his cup of tea.

“Ayooo!” he says “Who killed your rabbits?”

“No one, they are safe back....home” he struggles with the last word.

Can it still be called a home? Empty rooms and empty bed? It was not one when a little child cried at night. He can't decide if the ghostly echoes of the cries are his or A-Yuan's. But Gusu Lan sometimes feels like the broken abandoned nest a family of birds left behind.

“I think you are being over worked” he says casually. “Or something big is on your mind”

“There is...” he says. “I might just say it now....”. Because really, some part of the pain is not knowing if there is chance.

“Alright, whatever it is, I'll help you, because you should know I got your back too”

“We should be cultivation partners”

Wei Ying looks surprised for a moment, he wasn't expecting that, but then he begin laughing

“See!, you are funny!”

“I'm not joking”

“Of course, you are, are I expected to believe that you, his revered Chief Cultivator wants to...to...cultivate with the likes of me?”

“Yes”

Wei Ying scoffs “If it is a joke, I must ask you to stop, you damn well know I can't cultivate”

“It is not, Wei Ying....I....I....”

His eyes go soft. “I see... I didn't want to say anything about that, but I recon this can't go on any longer. I'm not as clueless as everyone thinks me to be”

“I know you aren't. I know you sometimes walk faster”

Wei Ying bites his lips and he goes serious. Hes talking with the Yilling Patriarch and that scares him. Maybe he shouldn’t have said anything. Maybe he should have kept his mouth shut. He might have ruined this friendship.

“You do know that being with me is an act of selfishness I can't allow? The cultivation worlds need you. And I can tell it would be very disappointed if you did something like this. I know you want to help me recover by cultivating, but It won't even work, why bother?”

“If I can't be allowed to be with my soul mate even if the cultivating doesn’t work, then what is the point of cultivating? What is the point of this whole lifetime? What is the point of leading the cultivating sects? “

Wei Ying snorts. “Such a romantic you are”

Wangji didn’t know if he should be offended.

“It's too much trouble even if your intentions are good. Gusu Lan won't just open his arms to me, your brother and uncle...”

“I'm acting sect leader. Xichen is not coming out of seclusion, and I expect it will take him a long time, as for my uncle. He might be disappointed, but not entirely surprised. He asks about your whereabouts often”

“Yeah, because he wants to know when the devil it's in theirs mist”

“Because he knows I care. He may never trust you, but he knows I do. And sometimes, you have to make do with the situation”

“And what about the other sect leaders”

Wangji frowned. “Smaller sects will cave to the bigger ones and their opinions can and are influenced easily. The bigger ones. One is your nephew, whom I know you spend considerable time with, and the other is your brother, you are avoiding him, but I can tell he just acting angrier because he wants you to contact him”

“Thats Jiang Cheng for you, but how have you gained this understanding of him?”

“Is it really that difficult to understand a man that expresses everything with anger?”

“I suppose not that difficult, or different to understand as yourself, a man that expresses everything with a calm stoic face, here we are after all, expressing our feelings in such a matter, I should be offended, you should be more romantic than this”

“Does Wei Ying want to know about what I feel when I see him? about my racing heart, about how much happiness it brings me? about how much I missed him for years and years?”

Wei Ying blushed. “No, no, stop, I thought I could take it, but I don’t"

“um” he nodded and felt the disappointment.

“You miss understand. I... feel very deeply for you too, but this not about what we feel for each other. I do know. I knew that night before the temple. And I though....”

Wangji closed his eyes.

“But the world.....”

“I know”

“I did so much wrong”

“You didn’t.... everyone makes mistakes, but they weren't born out of evil intentions. They weren't plotted and malicious, they never were, and the world knows this”

“They know, but they aren't going to stop being hypocrites and judgmental. How are you going to maintain such an important position, with me hanging from your arm?”

“Then I don’t care anymore.”

“What about our son?”

“He can remain with my uncle. But I gladly would quit and travel the lands. It is our promise to each other. How many years have to pass, before we fulfil it?, How many years are we supposed to wait? I can't...not anymore. Wei Ying is my soulmate”

Wei Ying sighed. “I thought this was going to end sooner too. Less than a year, but they are so clueless, like a pack of children, making and making the same mistakes”

“Then we have to solve it in other ways. We might never agree with the current leaders Wei Ying. But you are an excellent teacher, and you have been taking unofficial hunting trips with the boys of every clan. And the leaders constantly bring this fact to my attention. I think that if you officially joined Gusu Lan Clan, this wouldn’t be a worrying matter anymore, you would have expressed permission to do it”

“And how do I join Gusu Lan?”

“Marry me...”

Wei Ying looks surprised. “you mean...besides cultivating together you want to....not as...platonic soul mates...”

“As husbands”

“With kissing and everything?”

“Everything....”

“Bed sharing?”

“Everything”

“Clan allowance?!”

“Everything”

“Fucking?”

“Yes”

“Oh....”

His heart beat faster and faster and he’s getting light headed, it was not an answer yet.

“Can't say I expected that...you hide it very well...”

“umm” he hums' disappointed.

“So, I wonder if you are as passionate with this in action, as you are with everything else. You are a man of actions, not words...”

He looks into his eyes. They are shinning with mirth.

“Wei Ying might like to find out”

“He might indeed...” he smiled fully. “But seriously are you really sure you want us to be....so publicly together?”

“I'm not ashamed of what I desire, I want Wei Ying as my husband and Sizhui as our son”

“You are being very shameless” he smiled softly. “And... I'm happy. Glad. I do want to be with you, but I need to know you are completely sure you want this”

“I do, with all my passion, with all my hopes for the future. I never wanted to be chief cultivator in the first place. I did it because it seemed the right thing to do. But I can't go on without you anymore, its drowning me, it's killing me, I'm tired and alone, and I can't be apart from you a single day more. They either accept what you mean to me, or they can destroy themselves however they see fit”

“You are so sure...and I....”

“I understand....you want pace, you don’t want to go back to those clowns and jesters”

“I just don’t want to cause more trouble, it frightens me, politics....people's opinions, it has scarred me, it was so horrible last time, I did everything wrong, didn’t save the people I loved, I'm so afraid of failing you”

“Take your time thinking about it. I too need to know Wei Ying is sure to accept me and my responsibilities.”

“Thats a bit unfair. Makes me look like the bad guy. If I don’t go back to Gusu with you, you want to quit your job, how can I steal you all to myself, you know that doesn't settle with me, and this fear I feel.....”

“I don’t need a big position to keep our promise. And I do want to settle with you. We gave them too much before. And I know now what I might lose....I don’t want to lose you ever again....”

They both submerged into a contemplative state, only interrupted by the noise of the overcrowded Inn. When it was time to retire. Wei Ying made a big fuzz about the bed. But then again, he always did.

This time tho, it was different. A soon as the candle was blown. Wei Ying moved close enough to touch. Close enough to be held in his arms.

It felt so right, Wangji couldn't think of ever sleeping apart from him again. He was older now, so he knew that often, what people said it was wrong, it wasn’t actually. It was just misunderstood. And what people thought to be harmless, it often was.

He was not a youngster easily swayed into believing a set of hard rules and supposed truths.

People would always talk, they would whisper, they would plot. But being with this man, no matter what they tough or said. It was not wrong.

What felt wrong was to keep them apart.

If a good man can be driven into perdition, he thought this was his edge cliff.

And he’s sure to jump.

++6++++

Next morning, before sunset, they departed from the Inn in search of the hugger of the woods.

“Let's go this way, there's a stream nearby. And I believe a starved woman would set camp near it, it’s a very plentiful place, been there fishing too”

“umm”

“Hanguan-Jun, please don’t be disappointed if I can't be so sure to answer your kind attentions”

“I'm not. It is a serious matter”

“Of course, and there's also that our son is in pain”

“Must hurry”

“I'm serious, It's not that I don’t want.....its just....I feel fear, I feel so tired too, some days I feel like I can't love anymore. I feel that if I lose a single person on my life, it would break me again, everything would be dark”

“I'm here for you”

“And sometimes I wished you weren't....it's painful to think about, but the fear I have of losing you sometimes keeps me awake at night. Sometimes I dream my sister, and sometimes I dream it's you whose death I provoke. I...I feel so empty without you, but I keep thinking that I can't do this. I can't do it anymore”

Wangji stopped walking and felt his heart shattering.

He knew like an abstract concept that Wei Ying had lost so much, and that his pains and ghost would always be with him. But hearing him say these things, made him feel like he failed him. Like he was not enough to protect him. Like once again he couldn’t do a single thing to stop him.

Maybe he shouldn’t.

When they were younger, he tried and tried to stop him from suffering and that made him go away.

But then, what was he supposed to do?

“Lan Zhan...” he begins. But stops abruptly.

From the foliage, a needle sails the air. Wei Ying’s talisman stops it. A furious scream is heard and in just a matter of seconds, Wangji takes his sword and takes a stance.

The woman comes out of the shadows. Shes as described, a shabby dirty woman with crazed gaze.

“Why are you attacking people?!!” screams Wei Ying full of anger, Chenqing on his hands.

“Not people, just you!” she rages and storms in his direction.

No time to think about it. Wangji sways his sword to stop her. The woman to his surprise, takes a sword out of a shahs on her back just in time to stop him from cutting her in half.

They dance around, taking blows and stopping deathly hits. Shes no joking around, she truly wants to kill them, no explanation.

“WHY?” screams Wei Ying throwing more talismans than what Wangji can track, but she is so much experienced than expected.

She is definitely a cultivator, but her face is not one he remembers

“Who in this land does not want to kill you, Wei Wuxian?, haven't you killed enough people to warrant a revenge?”

“Too many to count!”, he says angered. “But I'm asking why did you attack my son?”

“Lan Wangji son!” she screams and, in her rage, she nicks him on the face. He frowns and looks at her feet.

He’s seen that before.

As soon as he thinks he seen it before, he knows where he’s seen it before. DeJa'Vu.

“This are Gusu Lan techniques, badly done.”

“Shup up!” she screams. “Bastard, fucking bastard, you got the gall to tell me that to my face”

Wei Ying stops long enough to examine her, then he throws into the battle again, dancing in the way the Yummeng Jiang Sect does when in defensive attack, but he does not carry a sword with him anymore. And just dances around, his back glued to his, as the woman desperately moves in look of an opening.

But with Wei Ying guarding his back, they both moving in tandem to the sound of an erratic dark melody. The restless souls in the woods come, ghostly lights in the shape of screaming faces.

No human voice's, empty expression forever etched in agony. Their voices are the cruel screams of the ghost flute.

She keeps the pace, never underestimate the power of anger and the thirst of revenge. And of course, never understimate a Gusu technique even when badly performed. But in the end, she slows down her attacks.

Shes starved, she's tired.

“Why do you want this revenge?!” grunts Wei Ying with the effort.

“Because I swearer to kill you both, that child too, if I could, and the opportunity presented itself”

“What did we do?!”

She roars and moves quicker in one more powerful blow. Shes erratic and she stumbles and yet, she still grazes him in the arm and then very nearly gives Wei Ying a poke. But because he thinks Wei Ying has too many scars. He moves lighting fast and shoves her out.

She falls to the ground with a hard hit. She bleeds from the deep wound he gave her on the shoulder. She hisses.

“Enough is enough” says Wei Ying. “I’ll give you one chace to break my sons curse. Or I'll kill you”

“I won't do it!” she grunts.”

“I'm just fine with it. Some people a better off this world”

“Why couldn’t you stay dead?”

“I don’t know what business I have with you, so you shouldn’t care about mine”

“Underserving bag of dirt” she spats. “You!..... you two!,..you killed my husband”

They both understand then.

“Who?” asks Wei Ying.

Ok, maybe just Wangji understands, but he can't blame him.

“Su she...” he says ending the mystery.

“Who?, ah?!, wait....that guy was married? and to a formidable cultivator?”

She begins laughing. “You ended my life. He was my world. We were very happy”

“He took wrong choices and bad turns” Wangji says. “He was a lying traitor”

Her laughter turns into crying. “Yes....but I loved him”

“You can still turn around, it's not late, whatever he might have done, your life should be spared. You can love again if you wish”

“As if...” she says looking at Wangji. “As if one can have more than a soul mate on one lifetime, you should know Lan Wangji”

He does. It is sometimes impossible. It's so rare to find even one. He can't imagine ever finding another soulmate. Not in the way Wei Ying is to him. He has never doubted that their fates are tied by romantic love from another lifetimes.

A tie so strong can only mean a wife or a husband. Otherwise, his lust is not necessary. Fate could have them as friends, as brothers, as any other thing. But he was born into a cut sleeve to make it work.

“Then its better if you go meet him soon” he says. Because he honestly thinks it's a mercy.

When Wen Ying was lost to him, he considered the possibility of just going after him. Another chance in another place, in another timeline.

He did not, because of their child. Said child was sick and hurting. And that made him pause. If he had given up, he might miss Wei Ying’s return.

“Do you have a keepsake of him?”

“No” she closes her eyes. “We couldn’t....”

“Then why did you hold on? if you don’t have...hope” he asks.

“Revenge is a hope” she says with frown. “Because I promised him at his grave”

“Thats bad...” Wei Ying says. “No matter what he did, he took some Karma he would have to repair later. And if you do more damage, you’ll lose your chance to meet him again, too busy repairing your own wrong doings”

“I don’t care anymore”

Wei Ying sighed. “Then....we.”

She scoffed. “Fuck you....I hate you so much, but the mere thought of ever seeing you again even if I don't know it's you, it's disgusting. I don't want to ever cross fates with you, I’ll let the boy live, but you better kill me, I'm done”

“I don’t want to do you wrong either” said Wei Ying slumping his shoulders.

“Coward” she said. She removed a wooded box out of her sleeve and the putrid remains of a heart were inside filled with needles and ribbons. She untied them all. “He should get better...” she sighed. “You are a such bastards, and I hope one day, you feel this pain again”

She took a dagger out and ended herself. The splatter covered the ground. Wei Ying flinched and looked away as she struggled for breath.

And that was the end of that.

+++7++++

The journey back was peaceful and quiet. Both of them too worried to resume their talk. They needed to know that Sizhui was safe.

But also, the woman's words were etched into their minds.

It sat heavily and unsaid.

++8++++

When they arrived at Gusu, they were informed that Sizhui was getting better. When they visited him, he was awake and full of questions.

Wangji still needed to reprimand him about the incident.

“Be more careful, be more vigilant. Some people would always look to do you harm, just because who your parents are....”

“You mean....”

“I feel responsible for you A-Yuan, when I joke and say I am like a mother to you, what I really mean is that I do love you like a son, I always did. You were so small...” Wei Ying says. “I'm sorry that would make your life harder. But I don’t regret it. Loving you as a father”

The boy blushed and nodded. “Thats...more than I can hope for and deserve, honestly”

“Nonsense, you are a sweet kid”

“I’ll be more careful from now on. It honestly passed my attention. I didn’t feel when she prickled me, but I should have checked out as soon as I felt it, it was just like a bug bite as the days passed”

“Yes, you should inform us at once whenever you feel something out of the ordinary. Your father is the chief cultivator and head of Gusu Lan after all. You are too burdened by us, but also, very, very loved”

“I will!” he says earnestly. Wangji feels a deep warm on his chest.

Even if they aren't husbands in the future, they still are fathers together.

+9+++

After two more days of rest, Sizhui is allowed to stand from the bed. They let him sit on the garden outside the infirmary, he sits on a warmed patch of grass. The sun over his head, book in hand.

Wangji and Wei Ying sit on the shaded porch of the budling drinking tea in pace.

It's very, very peaceful, and exactly what he needed. Those days are blurred with quiet happiness. A vacation of sorts to him.

“He shouldn’t stay in the sun to long unless he gets a hat” comments Wei Ying.

“um” he agrees.

“This feels too domestic”

“um?” he asks

“the three of us.... sitting here as time passes. I know it can't be like this all the time, but this stolen moment is perfect”

Wangji looks over at Sizhui and agrees.

“Maybe we should get another one....”

“Another one?...” he asks confused.

“Another child...” he smiles. “Just to keep stealing moments like this....”

He grunts a small smile.

“We could do that. Adopt another child in need. Educate him”

“Yes...”

“Because no one would bat an eyelash if we are married all good and proper”

Wangji looks quickly at him.

“Yeah...” Wei Ying smiles. “That woman made me think. It's true that soulmates are a rare gift from fate. This is my chance to be with you. Who knows when would I get the chance of finding you again? You are the one for me, we have known this since when were young. As an adult I can't deny that I was born for you. I have done too much damage, and I will be expected to repay all my wrong doings, I'm sure we’ll find each other again, but that’s a problem I don’t have right now”

“What about your fears?”

“Can it really get any worse than what has happened? I'm sure I won't be all very peaceful like this. I'm sure it would be hard and sometimes dark. But you are a light to me. You don’t have to run after me anymore. I'm done running. And I believe it is my time to sit beside you and wait. I’ll wait until you are done with whatever you need to do, and then, when we both are free with our time. We could do anything we want. And besides, I do have a knack for teaching”

Wangji took his hand.

“I’ll be a great life” said Wei Ying with a smile. An Wangji knew then, that it was true.

The race was over, but they’ll kelp walking beyond the finishing line.

#alightbuthappypen #wangxianLNY21 #*LNYfic21 #*LNYgifts21

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dangermousie · 4 years

Text

Even in the iffy machine translation, the end of the last extra story left me all sorts of emo. Sniffling from joy because this is so perfect as a coda and sniffling from sadness that I have no more.

I have been reading 2HA for almost two weeks, since May 31. I am a notorious speed reader (an average 300 page book takes me two hours) and I was reading it very steadily for these 11 days (though it was only the last few days where I basically stopped watching or reading anything else, obsessively binging.) The fact that it took me 11 days says something about both the immense size of this novel and the fact that I (a) reread my favorite parts mid-read and (b) had to take breaks from the emotional onslaught.

I went from disliking Moran and being not keen on Chu Wanning - the former was an immaturely evil reincarnation of a monster and the latter cold and unpleasant, as far as I was concerned - to bawling my eyes over both of them together or separately and being so invested, it was honestly a little scary.

Funny thing is I can pinpoint the exact moment I fell for CWN - when he throws his exorcism fee into the face of the evil elder who amply earned the wrath of his particular ghost and proceeds to restore justice. But I cannot pinpoint such a moment for Moran. I have no idea how I went from “I don’t like novels with an evil protagonist” to “I am sobbing over him so hard I want to barf” but there it was. I also can’t pinpoint when I went from “this is kinda random as a novel” to “this is really interesting” to “you can pry this novel out of my cold dead hands and then my zombie self will still fight you for it.”

But here we are.

I am always leery to claim I can be objective about something I loved so hard so I don’t know if my view of this novel as amazing is objective. All I can tell you is that it is impeccably plotted, has complicated characters and some beautiful language. It also hit my particular narrative and character kinks so hard they are still ringing - period setting, men with weapons, love beyond death and then beyond even that, redemption narrative, view of the power structures as hypocritical and corrupt, heroism, and above all for yours truly SO MUCH ANGST. I am a notorious angst vampire but despite that (or perhaps because of that), I don’t tend to cry over angsty things much. This novel made me full on bawl five times - (1) when Chu Wanning sacrifices himself for Moran at the rift and Moran realizes what has happened and the bit with the body and the wontons (2) Nangong Si’s sacrifice (3) Chu Wanning rescuing Moran from execution and fighting the whole world for it and then Moran dying in his arms and aftermath (4) destruction of Siseng Peak (5) the ending - though this time from happiness...And we are not even going to get to all the times I sniffled like someone with a permanent cold. Hell, I am getting sniffly now just thinking about it.

I could try to be objective and ask whether it would have been better to not have as many dubcon/noncon flashbacks (though for once, some of the sex scenes actually had to do with character development, which is a total rarity in any book) or whether Chu Wanning really needed to be the resident psychopath magnet for every psychopath in a hundred mile radius, but at this rate it honestly would feel churlish to nitpick anything that gave me so much pure emotional reading pleasure. Plus, one of the joys of this novel is how unrestrained, how far-flung, how gonzo it is in every way - from emotional to physical to plotwise. It’s like a feast with so much food some of it is going to fall off the table.

Don’t worry, I am going to go back to my regular scheduling programming soon but before I do, a little fun:

Favorite Character: Moran. Yeah yeah I know, it seems everyone’s favorite is Chu Wanning. I adore CWN and he’s a close, very close second, but I am such a sucker for painful redemption narratives. (Moran’s narrative is redemption of his character; CWN’s is slow revelation of his character.) Plus, he’s had the worst childhood of anyone in this book and you know me...

Most Hated Character: DUHHHHHH!!!! Past life Shimei. I am still pissed off he didn’t get a more gruesome death. There is absolutely nothing redeeming about him - even XSL, mad and evil as he was, still had a warm feeling for his teacher. But there was nothing but rot and murder inside past life Shimei. (I hate current life Shimei also, but nowhere nearly as much.)

Biggest OTP: duh! Moran x CWN is everything I love in an OTP. They literally died for each other twice. But it’s just wonderful to read about them in every way and it’s a rare OTP with big drama that I can also see happy in every day mundane surroundings. Nangong Si x Ye Wangxi are my runner up.

Best family: The Xues. Is there any doubt? They are amazing and loving and righteous. They managed to bring up Xue Meng who despite being loved and spoiled is a total pure, righteous puppy. They took in Moran and made him family (and even once they find out he’s not really family, they still love him every bit as much as if he’s their own; but then Uncle Xue was the best, most loving, and most proud father to Xue Meng, even if XM was not his biologically.) And they ran a cool righteous sect and were fun and warm and awesome. There is a reason why Chu Wanning, who is a paragon who every sect would love to have, stayed there for so long.

Biggest (for me) plot twist: there are so many, but for me it was the plot twist that Moran became Taxian Jun by absorbing the demon flower that controlled him and turned him into a monster with Shimei as controller voluntarily to protect Chu Wanning. That was the only way he had to prevent Shimei from turning CWN into the monster he himself later became. The bitter irony that he gave up his soul to protect CWN and thus became the soulless monster who reveled in destroying CWN is !!!! (Side note - I just now realized that alternate life Moran freaked out the way he did when he thought he saw Shimei with a knife while CWN was in seclusion was because he subconsciously remembered when he walked in on Shimei attempting to harm CWN with the demon flower years earlier (in either timeline) even as his conscious memory was erased.) Runner up: porridge. The fact that it was teen Chu Wanning who fed starving five year old Moran and saved his life and that it’s that encounter that made CWN leave the monastery and try to help the suffering world.

Character who died that you wish had lived: Nangong Si. Proof that being an awesome, noble person is not enough; I bawled when he sacrificed himself.

Character who lived that you wish had died: Nangong Liu. Yup, that murdering horrible monster made it through the whole book. JUSTICE where is it!

Coolest setting: I loved Netherworld. And not just because I am a sucker for Orpheus themes.

Angstiest moment: that’s like asking which pine needle on a 30 foot tree is your favorite. But to me, it’s Moran’s death after core extraction - when he asks if he has finally expiated and still worries he’s too filthy for CWN - my heart! And then CWN tucking in his body in bed as if he’s still alive and making food for him because Moran was always hungry as a child and so food is his love language. I was crying SO HARDDDDD!!!

Most wholesome character: Xue Meng. Are there even any other close competitors? He’s another character I started out rolling my eyes at and ended up loving.

Most romantic moment: Literally every single one, but to me it’s Chu Wanning coming to that hut at the end and finding Moran alive and waiting for him.

#cnovel #2ha #husky and his white cat shizun

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a-smile-hides · 4 years

Text

A WISH FOR FORGIVENESS (P.6) - U.R.

Warnings: descriptions of a storm, imprisonment (and its consequences), wounds, blood, and this is like super long

Series masterlist can be found here

===

Dark clouds blocked the moon’s effort of giving light to the world beneath her. The raging sea climbed higher and higher around them, forming great mountains to conquer. The harsh and cold wind capable of throwing a man overboard made the boat roll from side to side and promised nothing but devastation.

It was as if the sea wanted to emphasize his awful feeling and play with the awful feeling that was eating him up from the inside. Like the sea wanted to be another source of trouble.

But no matter how dangerous the sea was tonight, the boat refused to turn around and find safety. Ubbe was crouching behind the side of the boat, his hand clutching the wood in a desperate way to keep himself from falling into the water. Behind him, he heard the men that agreed to come with him on this journey. Their words blocked by the sounds of the storm, but he knew that they were crying out for help. His name, his splendid reputation as a warrior and the story of his brother’s betrayal had convinced them all to follow him blindly in search of his lost love. All of them eager to be part of history, at the side of Ubbe Ragnarsson. All of them eager to be rewarded once they set foot in Kattegat again.

It appeared that the Gods wanted to punish their greedy motives. And as Thor continued to beat his hammer, the men fought with all their power against the forces of nature around them.

Shivering in his wet clothes, as the waves climbed over the edge of the boat, sat Hvitserk. He was sitting beside his older brother, bound to the side in hope of not losing him to the waves. He was still weakened by the wound on his chest and almost unable to stand up. And although the prince had changed clothes and smeared the best ointment the healers could come up with on his wound, the five cuts refused to heal. The cold sea water stung his eyes, but he kept them wide open, focused on his older brother whose gaze remained in front of him. There where, back when the sun still lightened their way, they saw a coastline.

With the small beads of light that somehow escaped the thick clouds above, Ubbe was able to figure out the shape of houses at the edge of – what he figured must be – the coast. The soft light produces by lanterns that could lead people through the streets flickered on each one of them.

“Do not give up!” His voice boomed out. His eyes remained on the lights as his hands clutched the wooden side of the boat hard. It seemed as if all conscious thought about the storm was erased from his mind. And Hvitserk wondered if his brother wasn’t gambling with their lives. “We are almost there.”

Ubbe’s screams were lost in the storm. No man could hear him. Even if they did, his words could no longer fuel their beliefs. Fear had struck their bodies and turned them one for one in scarred and tiny men. Even Hvitserk, who fought hard to be on this boat was doubting his own sanity at this point. But Ubbe had no fear or doubt inside his body. He simply kept on staring in front of him at the small lights. Confident that he would, somehow, be able to get there.

---

A gentle wind blew over the beach. Together with the sun, it warmed the sand and the small houses that stood at random along the coastline. The day had just begun, but a surprisingly large group of people had been awake already. All of them running around frantically, trying their best to fix the damage to their houses.

One girl, carrying a large basket with her seemed unaware of the frantic state of the people around her. Her long braid danced behind her as she contently hopped over rocks and puddles of mud on her way to the beach. The sun kissed the apples of her cheek and gave them a rosy colour. Just like everyone else in town, the girl had experienced an extremely short night. With every strike of lightning and every thunderstruck, the girl had shot awake, looking around and praying that her house had not lit up in flames, as had happened in her dreams.

The townsfolk watched her with annoying eyes as she passed them, snorting at her cheerful pass. She was lucky to live in a home big and strong enough to withstand a storm without failure. It was the smith’s wife that dared to open her mouth and question the young girl.

“Tove… Dear.” Her tone was as light and gentle as she could get it to be, but even with her best efforts the woman could not hide her anger. “What are you up to today?”

“Why good morning, Hilda. I am off to the beach. The storm that passed might have brought some gifts for me!”

Without waiting for an answer, she turned around and continued her path. The smith’s wife shook her head at the child, muttering about her ignorance under her breath. Secretly, she hoped that the rumours were untrue, and that the girl’s house was damaged, just like any other home.

Before she realized it, Tove arrived at the beach. Her smile only widened when her eyes fell on some wood.

Maybe I am the one who can find something big today!

It had been a long tradition for Tove and her father to come to beach each time a storm had passed. Her father believed that storms were the way the sea cleansed itself. All kinds of objects could be found scattered over the sand for everyone to find, at least if they looked closely enough. Her father had a gift for working with his hands. He had a keen eye for valuables and made his living as a merchant. Aside from that, he had the gift of somehow coming up with answers to every question he was presented with.

However, the storm that had passed yesterday had been unusually disastrous and the damage to the village could not be ignored. Thus, Tove decided to scout the beach alone as her father walked through the village to see how other people were doing.

The young girl ran eagerly towards the pile of wood in front her. She did not know why, but it called her name. Kneeling beside the pile, she started rummaging through it. The want to prove herself growing stronger now that it was actually happening. Quickly, the young girl became impatient and she started throwing the most broken pieces all around her. Her smile faltered as she saw nothing. She had to find something! She had to return home with a real treasure and make her father proud. As she lifted one of the last pieces of wood, a glimmer made her freeze.

A treasure!

With big eyes, she took the object of the sand. It was wrapped up in a piece of old cloth, but whatever was inside seemed to shine through the fabric. Very carefully, she took out the object. It was grey and long, still it fitted perfectly in her hand.

“Odd. I have never seen something like this…” She mumbled.

The girl narrowed her eyes and held it closer to her eyes. It was a sword! Only a very, very tiny one! With one of her fingers, she brushed lightly over the back of the dragon that slithered around it. It was beautiful.

Tove giggled. She knew that her father would be so proud. Her giggle soon became louder and turned into a fit of laughter. She could not help herself and twirled around. Her skirt waved around her and created a big circle. This was the kind of treasure that she hoped to find.

Her laughter died down once she looked up. Only now did she look around and noticed the wreckage that the sea had left behind on the sand. With one glance at the small object in her hands the girl understood that this must have belonged to someone on that ship.

Curiously, she stepped closer towards the remains. The sand crunched underneath her feet as she slowly got closer. Her heart was pounding against her chest and nervous giggles kept escaping her mouth. As she neared the ship, her eyes fell on four people lying amongst the wooden leftovers. Three men lay underneath pieces of wood. Blood and sand stained their wet, ripped clothes. Their eyes were closed, and their faces relaxed. It looked like they were sleeping peacefully, but the girl knew better. The sea had claimed their lives.

A bit further from them, near the sea lay another man on his back. His eyes were closed as well, but as she walked towards him, she saw how his chest went up and down in time with his breathing.

He was still alive!

The man’s dirty blond locks were filthy due the sand and his braids were loose. His clothes were stained with blood and sand, just like his companions, but his seemed to be more expensive. As Tove hovered above him, she held her breath. Fear and curiosity ran through her body. Never before had she discovered a man that was fortune enough to have survived a storm. She did not know what to do.

She reached out her hand to touch the man’s forehead. She had seen some women to this to their children as they coughed or were in pain, so it must be something that helped. But before her skin could make contact with his, the man coughed loudly. He spat out water and scrunched up his face. Startled, the girl ran away. Not noticing how the blond-haired man fell limp right after she disappeared behind the corner.

---

Hvitserk groaned as his eyes opened and he was met by the blinding light of the sun. Little pained gasps left his mouth as he tried with all his might to push himself upwards. With teary red eyes, Hvitserk looked around. He did not know where he was. He could only hope that this was the place they were looking for. He let out a long breath as his eyes fell on the ship. The four men that had come with him and his brother on this journey lay death in front of him and made him quickly look away again. The sight of their resting bodies made him feel vulnerable.

A light caught his eyes and made him blink. Beside him as if tossed there so he would be the one to find it, was the silver-grey pin Ubbe had found in the forest. This little thing had made his brother decide to jump on the first ship available and find his lost love. Hvitserk’s breathing fastened once he remembered his brother. He was not among the man lying dead in the sand. But as his eyes scanned the whole area, he saw nothing that could lead him to his older brother.

“Brother…” Hvitserk’s low and hoarse voice was almost unintelligible. “Ubbe?”

There was no response. Hvitserk called out again, louder this time. But still, no response.

Slowly, Hvitserk turned towards the sea. His heart hammered against his chest. Until a few seconds ago, the wound on his chest burned with every breath he took, and his muscles ached with every move, but now he felt numb. Their ship had lost its battle against the raging sea. The men that seemed honoured to go with his brother on this mission lay dead on the sand in front of him. And his brother wasn’t anywhere to be seen. Hvitserk never felt so lost.

Hvitserk’s arms gave out and he let himself fall down on the sand. His eyes stared up at the clear blue sky above him. The sea was calm, there were no clouds and the wind was nothing but a soft breeze. A perfect time to set sail.

He remembered Ubbe’s dedication. It had taken them days to collect everything to go on this journey. Yet Ubbe never faltered. He wanted to come here and save his mermaid, his friend. On the way to their rushed departure, both men bumped into many obstacles, the biggest one without doubt their own brother Björn, who wanted to warn Ubbe on his ‘impulsive’ ways. Ubbe had still immense respect for all the things his older brother had accomplished, but his words meant nothing to him anymore. He only hoped that one day they would be able to look each other in the eye, without being reminded of the wrongs that were done.

Hvitserk’s bleeding chest did not bother him anymore. The young prince just lay there. His breathing slowed down as he felt himself getting tired. And slowly, he gave in to the darkness that overcame him.

The two arms that sneaked under his woke Hvitserk up. Startled but unable to fight back, he shouted out. The strangled scream echoed around him. He tried kicking his legs, but his movements were weak. The intruder simply laughed tiredly and continued to drag the wounded prince in the direction of the houses. Hvitserk heard his abductor let out a deep breath and then the two arms disappeared. Hvitserk had no idea where he was brought to. He tried to push himself up with his elbows and look around, but the wound on his chest prevented him from doing so.

“Stop it. You’re making it worse”

The words gave new power to Hvitserk who suddenly found himself able to sit up straight. Before him, was his older brother Ubbe.

“Ubbe?”

Ubbe looked up for a second. His clothes were drenched, and his eyes were red. The man looked as if he had not slept in weeks. He had a large gash on his temple, his lip and eyebrow were cut, and a bruise had turned a dark purple on his jaw.

“It seems like after all Björn was right. This journey was cursed.”

Hvitserk frowned at Ubbe’s tone. He sounded broken, defeated. At his younger brother’s silence, Ubbe smiled bitterly. He was going to save you from the hell you got thrown into. And instead, he only condemned others to the exact same fate.

“You cannot hate yourself for all of this, brother.”

Ubbe laughed dryly, not believing one bit of Hvitserk’s words.

Ubbe shook his head. He had failed himself. He had failed those men. And above all, he had failed you. His eyes were cold and dull as he looked back at the place where those poor men lay. Hvitserk followed his gaze and felt that awful feeling in his stomach return. He knew his brother was blaming himself for all of this. He knew that the hope he had parted with was shattered into pieces.

Hvitserk cleared his throat, successfully getting Ubbe’s attention. With a shaky hand, he took something out of his pocket and laid it in the hands of his older brother. Ubbe’s eyebrows shot up as he stared down at the silver pin.

His thumb stroked softly over the dragon’s head. Ubbe thought he had lost it to the sea. Now, here it lay. He had carefully chosen this pin above others. The other pins the old lady sold were all beautiful one by one. But only this one gave Ubbe the right feeling. It was the only one that showed how he felt. Ubbe’s knuckle turned white as he clenched his fingers around the small object. The tail of the dragon slowly cut into his flesh. The stinging pain brought only a short relief from the voices inside his head, but like true monsters they kept repeating how he destroyed your only change at freedom.

The silence was deafening. A cold figure sitting in between them and making Hvitserk feel beaten. Ubbe’s body betrayed himself and a sob passed his lips. His stone-cold expression broke down and Hvitserk watched how his brother turned into a defeated man.

“And… Now?” He said softly, afraid that his words could hurt his brother more.

Hvitserk was lost. He did not know what to do. But the sight of his older and wiser brother sitting there in the sand scared him to death.

“Now… we pray that she will forgive me and that her faith is not what I fear it is. If luck is on our side, we may find a boat leaving this place soon. In that way, we can return home.”

The words passed his lips slowly, as if it burned him to say them out loud. Hvitserk frowned at his brother. Confusion written all over his face. This was not the brother he parted with. The words he just said sounded like a lame and pathetic effort in finding comfort in this situation. Ubbe did not even believe his own words, but for once found it was better to try and live with that lie.

“You’re leaving her behind?” Hvitserk could not wrap his head around it. With pained grunts, he placed his hands behind him and pushed himself until he leaned forward. Ubbe tilted his head at him, a look of concern painted his features.

“Do not give me that look” Hvitserk snarled. “You wanted to be here. We are here now. Look at these,” he panted, pointing at his chest. The moment his hand left the ground, the young prince almost lost his balance, his muscles still too weak to support himself. Ubbe lifted one hand, a gesture to offer some help, but Hvitserk roughly slapped it away. “This is the prove that she is not to be here. She knew what would happen to her. She fought with all her might. She- “Hvitserk looked down, broken as he remembered your screams and pleads.

Ubbe shook his head and shuffled closer to his brother. With both his hands, he supported the young man in front of him. Hvitserk stared up at him, almost forcing him to say something. But Ubbe kept his lips stubbornly shut tight.

“Let me help you fix this. This is also my fault. You are the one she needs now.”

His last words broke the everlasting scowl on Ubbe’s face. The wall that he had put around himself crumbled and Hvitserk saw the light reappear in his brother’s eyes. A ghost of a smile grew on Ubbe’s lips as he pressed his forehead against his brother’s. The two sat there in their brotherly embrace, until Hvitserk broke the moment.

“So… Now?”

“You must rest now. We will break in at sunset.”

---

The dry grass crackled underneath their feet as the two men slowly sneaked their way past the different houses. The sun had set over the small village and most residents had abandoned the streets to find comfort in their homes. Hvitserk’s breathing was harsh and deep, but the man was for once able to stand up tall. The facts that he had been able to encourage his older brother to not lose faith restored some of his energy. His feet often lost their grip on the ground, but thankfully he never fell.

Ubbe’s heart was pounding against his chest while the nerves ran down his body. One by one they passed the houses, trying to get a glimpse inside to see where Sólir may be living. With every house he passed, Ubbe grew more restless. He did not know where he could find you, Björn was uncertain of Sólir’s exact location. And he did not know in what state you would be in. Days had gone by before Ubbe had arrived here. Time and the unknown had always intrigued Ubbe, but now they were his greatest enemy. With every step, the fear of what he would come across became larger. Every peak inside a home that resulted in a beautiful sight of a couple sitting together with their children, made the anger well up in his chest.

At last, Ubbe peeked through a window to be met with the sight of a strange tank made of glass. It rested on a big wooden block and was filled to the brink with water. It was clear the glass cage had not been cleaned ever since it had been made, for the water had turned a filthy shade of grey. Ubbe rumbled in rage as he saw you laying on the bottom of your cage, miserable, and severely injured. Ubbe tried to see if anyone was with you, but nobody seemed to be inside. There wasn’t an evidence of a fire burning and the only light that lit up the room was that from the setting sun. No sounds could be heard around them.

With a simple nod of his head he signalled his younger brother, who stood on the lookout a bit further away.

The door jammed as Ubbe tried to open it. With a hard push with his shoulder it eventually flew open. The door slammed harshly against the wall, making some pots fall of their shelf. The sound echoed through the room. Ubbe bit his lip as his eyes fell on you. Very softly, he called out your name, but the sound did not seem to have reached your ears. You just lay on the bottom of your glass cage, your arms crossed over each other with your eyes shut tight.

Ubbe swallowed and stepped closer. His little brother following him like a shadow. Just like Ubbe, his eyes were only focused on you. Your hair was cut short and it was clear that some pieces were missing. Cuts and burn marks covered your skin and your tail had lost some of its vibrant colour.

Still, you were alive.

Ubbe shook his head, the pin in his pocket felt heavier with the moment. Again, he whispered out your name as he crouched beside you. This time, you opened your eyes.

“Y/N. Why - Oh no…” Ubbe leaned forwards, his forehead resting against the glass as your eyes finally met his blue ones. The white of your eyes had turned a crimson red, together with the dark circles and hollowed cheeks, you looked like death was standing right next to you. Hvitserk watches with widened eyes, his arms remained at his sides as the young man stood there perplexed.

“I am getting you out of this mess I put you in.”

His promise was met by a deafening silence. The only sound heard was the water splashing against something as you moved to lay on your side. The task seemed almost impossible for you. The tank wasn’t very large, only just wide enough to fit you in, leaving barely any room for you to adjust your position. Ubbe pressed his fist against the glass, his eyes pleading with you.

“Please. Do not give up. I am here to help. Truly.”

Again, his pleads were met by silence. Ubbe grew nervous as he looked right into your eyes, but only saw them stare blankly back at him. His heart hammered, and a lump formed in his chest. Ubbe stepped back and raised his hand, letting it glide over his hair. The young man paced around the tank, not knowing what to do. It made him feel dizzy, yet nothing in his brain told him to stop. Hvitserk frowned at the scene in front of him. He had not expected you to be so cold towards him, so unresponsive. As his eyes fell on you again, he peered intently at your hand. You had raised it up as high as you could so now it was pressed against the top of your cage. Hvitserk looked at the fine wooden board that formed the roof of your cage. And only now he took notice of the objects strategically placed on it. Hvitserk inched forward as your eyes followed Ubbe in his pacing, your mouth opening and closing, but no sound left your lips.

“Air… You can’t breathe…” he murmured. “You can’t- She-Ubbe, she can’t breathe!” He yelled out, waving his hand to get his brother’s attention. Ubbe stopped his pacing and looking down at you. Immediately he fell down on his knees, pressing his hand against the glass as if he were able to touch you through it. He narrowed his eyes as he saw too that your captivator left no room for air in your cage. His eyes darted around the tank, looking for a way to help you out.

“Help me!” He screamed towards his brother when he noticed too how the fine wooden board kept you inside. “Help me lift this thing off!”

Together, they threw the objects on the ground. With a loud clatter, they fell on the ground and with your last power you pushed the board away, taking big chunks of air as you resurfaced.

Ubbe came closer to you again, lifting your face in his hands. His smile was large and beautiful. He was breathing unevenly, and small chuckles passed his lips. You could only look back at him woozily, but the sight of his relieved face warmed your heart. After a couple of seconds, he suddenly removed his hands from the side of your face. A faint blush covered his cheeks as he cleared his throat. The small giggle you presented him with filled him with joy and made him look up at you again.

“The Gods are with me… For they have kept you alive. I am so glad to see you once again.”

You simply grinned back at him, resting your head on your arms.

A cough mixed with a painful howl made the both of you look up. Hvitserk was leaning against the tank, his breathing very deep while his eyes were closed. The scowl on his face together with the blood that slowly dripped over his hand into the water told his older brother how the wound had opened once again.

“Please. Help him.” Ubbe’s panting made you turn towards him. Fear was evident in his eyes. Your arms started trembling as your muscles were still too weak to hold you up.

“I cannot. I am far too weak to fully heal him.”

“Then help him the best you can.”

“Why should I even try? He was amongst the men who doomed me with this fate.” You spat out; anger evident in your gaze as you stared up at the man beside the tank.

“I need him. He is my little brother. You do not need to forgive him. You do not need to like him.” Ubbe paused, his hand reaching for the pin in his pocket. You gasped as he presented you with it. You hadn’t seen it ever since you lost it, when Björn’s men took you away from the lake, dragging you through the forest. The small thing still looked as beautiful as the day you got it from him. “We- I have let you down. And now I ask you this… Please, help him. And I promise you will be free again.”

With those words, he carefully brushed some of your hair back and clipped it into place. The familiar feeling of the pin in your hair brought back a feeling of trust. Something you thought you would never feel again.

Sighing out, you looked up towards Hvitserk. His eyes met yours a few times, but every time they did, he cast them down again. Regretful of all that happened, ashamed of asking your help.

“It’s funny.” You began. “When I look into your eyes, it’s almost as if I see regret in them.”

Hvitserk nodded his head frantically. “I do… I do regret it.”

You hummed, raising a hand to lay it on Hvitserk’s. He watched curiously how the webbed fingers wrapped themselves around his hand. The cold touch burned his hand, but he did not retrieve it. The stern look on your face captivated him and for some reason, he trusted you to help him.

“Then forgive yourself. Forgive. And heal from the inside.”

“How… How will that help me?”

“You keep reminding yourself of the wrongs you’ve done, Hvitserk. The pain drains your power to heal. You may not believe me, but I do not have a lot of ways to protect myself.” You paused, looking at the confused man in front of you. “Once scratched you will be weakened more every time you are confronted with the mistake I pained you for. You, Hvitserk, have helped a corrupt man in kidnapping me and you let yourself be fooled by stories that contain lies. You fear being rejected because of your mistakes. You fear to make a choice that ends up being the wrong one. And with those thoughts, you hurt yourself. The scratches show only a physical consequence of your mental pain. Learn to live with the consequences, forgive and heal yourself.”

With that you let your hand fall down in the water. Hvitserk stared down at his hand. The cold sensation disappeared slowly, and he watched perplexed how the water you had left behind dried quickly on his hand, as if his skin was absorbing the greyish liquid.

A tingling feeling went up and down his chest, making him pull down his tunic as much as it let him. The edges of his wounds were still a vibrant red, but they were not bleeding anymore. Hvitserk breathed out, nodding his head at his worried brother, and bowed his head in gratitude at you.

“The wound is now closed, but not healed yet. As I said, you must do that for yourself.”

“And with how much of a crybaby you are, I think that will take a while.”

A low voice chuckled out his words, causing the two men jump up and a shiver run down your back.

Sólir had returned.

----

Thank you for reading xxx

Tag: @fairyofvoid

Tags AWFF: @pieces-by-me

#vikings #vikings imagine #vikings fanfic #ubbe ragnarsson imagine #ubbe ragnarsson imagines #ubbe the wolf #ubbe fanfiction #ubbe x you #ubbe x reader #a wish for forgiveness

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drunklander · 4 years

Text

Submission:

Why Roger MacKenzie is the Worst an Analysis:

It all begins way back when in episode three of season four. I am going to give Roger the benefit of the doubt and ignore the fact he flew across the ocean to see a girl that maintained about 0.3 seconds of conversation with him in which she rolled her eyes like five consecutive times. Let us not forget he popped up for Christmas without actually being invited which is creepy in of itself. At this point, Roger was saved by the grace of his Scottish charm and lost puppy façade. An illusion which will dissipate the moment he is allowed to open his mouth for more than two consecutive seconds because everything that comes out of it is complete garbage. Oh, Roger. I had faith in you, I really did.

Do not get me wrong, I wanted to like him. I wanted to like him so badly I almost ended up making excuses for him because… Are you not supposed to like a male romantic lead? Disliking him as much as I do feels so counterintuitive, but he makes it so damn easy.

Back to episode three of season four. I will never forget the image of Brianna sitting on the floor half naked, hugging herself, and telling Roger that the situation “is perfect.” Oof, I try to put myself in her shoes and how embarrassing and awkward it might have felt. How off putting it is and how it almost borders a rejection. Regardless, let us say that Roger’s intentions were not to hurt her; he still took absolutely no regard of her feelings. This is something he systematically does, putting himself at the center of every situation with no afterthought of how the person by his side might interpret things. Roger’s character demands empathy but extends none. In fact, he is so narcissistically woven in his own delusions, that I do not think he is capable of seeing Brianna as a living, breathing human with thought and emotions of her own. Roger’s character does everything in its power to erase Brianna’s narrative. Sounds familiar? Aye, to me too. History repeats itself.

What is supposed to be a romantic moment, in my eyes, turns into a cringe-fest. Really, Roger, you could not have thought of better timing to present your stupid bracelet? I will not even begin to wonder how long Roger has fantasized about Brianna during their separation. It seems to me that he simply projects an idea of Brianna onto her, expecting her to uphold this impossible standard, and when she indeed fails, he gaslights her into feeling bad about it. This, my friends, is the epitome of a toxic relationship. So, Roger created this fantasy (or delusion) of a proposal to a twenty-year-old girl that would pass well. Once Brianna shattered this fantasy, as is expected given that she is A TWENTY-YEAR-OLD INEXPERIENCED GIRL, Roger, as a defense mechanism, begins to shame her. Brianna did not even state that she was not interested in marrying him ever, just not now. But for Roger, it is all about: “I want you to say yes.” The ‘I want…’ narrative is the driving force behind his character. As I said, everything is always about him. I am sure all of you have watched the episode and there is no need to repeat the atrocious UNWARRANTED slut shaming that occurs there. Honestly, it reminded me of those guys on Tinder that are like “wow you are so beautiful” and once they feel rejected it turns into “fuck you bitch I never wanted you anyways.” All Roger had to do was tip his fedora and be done with it. BUT IT DOESN’T END HERE. Wow, you know? I thought he would learn a thing or two from this. But no, apparently growth is an impossibility for Roger MacKenzie. So, we proceed to episode eight of season four AKA the episode that had no silver lining except for Claire’s badass surgical abilities. Roger zooms in out of nowhere (a-la Steve Rogers style in Endgame, another atrocious storyline that involves men appearing where they are not welcome and robbing women of their voice) to scorn Brianna once again. “What do you mean you didn’t know where we stood?” Uh… Because there was nothing abnormal or worthy apologizing for after your last conversation? Wow, Roger, you really are that fucking stupid, huh? Blah, blah, blah, stupid conversation, then Roger decides to manhandle her unnecessarily because… Why the fuck not? That really gets Brianna hot and heavy, and let me pause here to say something I think is absolutely important. I love Brianna Fraser. I think that everything dislikeable in her character stems from the way she behaves when it pertains to Roger. I think she turns a blind eye, constantly lets things slide, and that her grand romance with Roger is written poorly. It is so unpersuasive that it makes Brianna feel so out of character when she accepts him back time and time again. I sincerely do not see how, why, or when she fell in love with his sorry ass. Brianna Fraser is one of those character that have the potential of being outstanding but are done very dirty for the sake of providing a narrative to a half-assed male character that nobody likes anyways. Anywhoo, let us return to Brianna and Roger getting down to business (EW). So, Brianna needs to remind Roger of his own convoluted, archaic ideals. The same ideals which made them fight THE FIRST TIME AROUND. I mean, those ideals were SO important that he felt the need to shame her the way he did. Are they not important now or is Roger just doing the convenient thing of thinking with his genitals? But of course, now that he had a lightbulb moment he has to backtrack; God forbid they sleep together unmarried as if he were not ready to do it ten seconds ago. Oof, the hypocrisy runs deep in this one huh folks? Brianna ends up finding out that Roger kept the truth from her about her parents’ death in order to keep her happy for the sake of marrying her. So once again, Brianna is reduced to a trophy that he needs to win – actually, I never thought he saw her as anything else. I wholeheartedly believe that Roger does not love Brianna, he loves the idea of himself with Brianna. They fight, he leaves her like a pussy bitch because she told him so and Brianna gets raped by Stephen Bonnet. So far so good? Now, I wish Brianna was at the epicenter of her own damned rape arc. I wish that the voice of female survivors was not erased once more for the sake of elevating the pathetic self-scorn of an unworthy male character. Do you want to know the moment I hate the most about season four? It is Roger’s stupid “I am an idiot” sermon. He had such a good shot at redeeming himself there, at admitting that he messed up, at accepting that he is at fault for everything that has happened to him thus far. That was too much to expect, now, wasn’t it? Instead he goes on raving and moping about love, and how he is an idiot that always returns though nobody ever asked him to, yada, yada. Again, all Roger can possible conceive are his own feelings. See, Roger is not wrong, he is an idiot, but for completely different reasons. Needless to say, he gets rescued and discovers the truth. And what is the truth? That his handfast wife was viciously attacked and is hurting? No, God forbid we focus on Brianna’s feelings for a moment. No, it is all about the fact that the rapist was Bonnet and that he might be the father of the child. That is what matters, right? The fact that another man put his dick in my woman, and not the fact that a woman has been forced to engage in coitus against her will. It is all about ownership. So, of course, Roger hesitates to come back. Of course, he is the one having the hardest time to deal with it, because he always has the hardest time to deal with everything. Oh, poor Roger. This is not about Brianna’s decision to keep the child because of the possibility that he might be Roger’s. This is not about Brianna’s ambivalence towards her attack because it took something from her, but also gave her something so beautiful. This is not about Brianna’s trauma, its aftereffects, and how it re-shaped her world. This is all about Roger. It has always ever been about Roger. Brianna is not a character in her own right, she is simply a plot device (you guessed it right) for Roger. The best thing this show can do is have him fall off a cliff and never come back. The only reason I will watch season 5 is to see Marsali and Fergus because they are the real MVP’s of this show.

OOF.

_________________________

Fucking. Preach.

(#FuckYeahTeamFersali)

#stuff people sent me #submission #roger mackenzie #outlander fandom #*

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dammitadolfnomorecake · 3 years

Text

Once Bitten, Twice Stupid prt 139

139

Cuba was loud. Loud and people everywhere. Lance had bugged him to call Shiro, his brother giving him a hard time for forgetting, but Matt had already called to let him know that he and Lance had a very... intimate reunion. Stupid perverted wolf. He was having a moment with his boyfriend, not some kind of scandalous tryst.

Lance didn’t talk as much as he thought he would. So Keith didn’t push it. He’d sent Shiro a proper message explaining Miriam had passed and that Lance needed a little more time before they’d be headed back to America. Matt had let Shiro know, but Keith felt like maybe that’d been Lance’s place to say. Shiro and Curtis sending their condolences. Each time Lance would point something out, Keith tried to take as many photos on his phone as he could, so Lance would have physical evidence to match his memories.

Stopping for lunch near the beach, Keith realised how screwed he would have been without Lance there to translate for him. Sure, there was English to cater to the tourists, but Lance made it look easy. Chatting away with the servers, swimming in the jumper that he was wearing. His boyfriend had already managed to get him new shoes. They weren’t shiny red converses with smiley faces on them, but they were sneakers because Lance simply rolled his eyes at the idea of boots in the heat.

Sitting across from his boyfriend in the cafe, Keith realising that Lance actually looked a little older. He couldn’t put his finger on what it was, but there was something there. Then again, he hadn’t seen his boyfriend’s face in the sun like this in far too long

“You’re staring”

“You’re cute”

Lance huffed at him. Keith couldn’t help how in love with Lance he was

“Can... can you maybe... not compliment me as much?”

“Nope”

His boyfriend huffed again. Did Lance think he was complimenting him to cover other feelings? Or was hating on himself so hard that he struggling to see how beautiful he was? All he had to do was look at Lance and he wanted to say nice things. The Keith from this time last year wouldn’t have believed it. He probably would have broken someone’s face had they suggested he’d be like this with anyone.

Forcing his attention to the meal, he wasn’t sure what it was. It smelt really good. Keith wasn’t sure about the beans, his diet didn’t consist of much outside green beans and baked beans. Baked beans banned because Shiro’s farts were no joke. Pointing with his fork, Lance explained what they were eating

“It’s Ropa Vieja. It’s very good. It’s mostly pulled stewed beef with veggies”

“I don’t think I’ve even heard of it”

“You missed out. Mami used to make a mean ropa. It’s like Cuba’s number one dish and she would come back and murder me if you didn’t try it at least once”

Lance was right, Keith’s eyes widened at the first taste of beef, scoffing down a second forkful. Lance seemed to find it funny enough that he laughed. An actual, proper, barking laugh where he scrunched his face up and people stared. Swallowing quickly, he got hit with the heat of the spices, Lance’s shoulders were shaking with laughter

“What’s so funny?”

“I told you it was good and you still looked like you’d come in your pants at the first bite”

“It is good... Wait, are you trying to say I make weird faces during sex?”

“You make very manly and sexy faces... but that face was gold”

Keith pulled his phone out his pocket, snapping a photo of Lance who sobered as he drew his brow realising what Keith had done. It’d make the perfect proof of life photo for Pidge

“Did you just take a photo?”

“You mocked my “oh” face”

“You have a many manly sex face. Just be careful with where you’re taking photos”

That was thing? Then again, there kind of seemed like a vague memory that maybe a thing

“I didn’t think about that. It was nice seeing you laugh, even it was at me”

He had no idea of the etiquette of Cuba, probably acting like the dumb America tourist he was

“It’s fine here. Mami and I came here a bit on the way too and from the hotel. On Wednesday’s they clear out the tables at night and they have dances”

“I bet Mami loved that”

“She did. We mostly shuffled on the spot but she said it reminded her of when Papi took her dancing. It’s weird when your mum gropes your butt”

“I bet she winked too”

“Yep. I wish I’d come back here sooner with her. I feel like I wasted time not”

“Nah, I’m sure she was happy. Oh, I better text Pidge and Hunk. Is there anything you want me to say?”

“Just tell them I miss them. I do... miss them I mean, but at this stage I’m not sure how to face them”

“Then it’s a good thing I’m here. Coran kept getting pushed out the way so Pidge could talk to me. He actually looked annoyed”

“He’s got a hard enough job. He paid for all of this. I mean, I know he used funds from VOLTRON, but that hotel isn’t cheap...”

“He did it because he loves you. I’m sure there’s plenty of funding, and I’m sure there’s things you haven’t cashed in on because you didn’t want to make a fuss”

“He did try to give me my blood for free... I feel better when I’m paying. More independent and not like a teen getting money from dad”

“See. There you go. This is like really good, can you make this at home?”

“You want me to?”

“Heck yes. Don’t get me wrong, Rome is like a food lovers paradise but pasta gets sooooo repetitive”

“You better make the most of it. There’s still a lot of dishes to try”

“What about going out for dinner? With Matt and Rieva?”

Lance fumbled his fork. Keith kicking himself but the words had slipped out

“I’m... I was really rude to them”

“I doubt they care”

“I care. I ran the first time I saw them”

Keith raised an eyebrow at the thought of a pregnant Lance thinking he could leg it from two werewolves. His boyfriend had zero chance

“Babe, they missed you”

“They’ll want to talk about what happened and I’m... telling you is...”

Right. Lance was still trying to tell him what he could, how he could...

“... telling you is because she saw you as her son. Telling them, I just... it’s harder”

“We don’t have to tell them the things you’re not comfortable with. If we have dinner, we can go after... but it’ll be a good step”

“What if they can’t forgive me?”

“The only person who can’t forgive you is you. Just put it in the back of your mind”

“I’ve been thinking about it too much...”

“I’m shocked you’d over think anything ever”

“Now you’re being mean”

“You still love me. Seriously though, this is really good. Can I help you make it?”

He was going to text Pidge but his food was too appealing. Shovelling down another forkful, Lance swallowed as he watched him, seeming a little flustered. Keith wished he knew what kind of expression he was showing the man he loved

“Uh. I guess... we should eat. We’re heading back to the hotel after this. I can’t seem to make it through without my afternoon nap”

“I’ve deprived you of your morning nap, haven’t I?”

“Yeah... and my morning self wallowing”

“I’m like the worst boyfriend ever”

“Nah. You’re pretty much the best I’ve ever had”

It took Keith a long moment. His heart filled with pride at the praise until he realised he was the only boyfriend Lance ever had. Lance chuckled when the realisation hit him, Keith kicking him lightly under the table. His boyfriend was a brat.

When Lance went down for a nap, Keith was shooed off to let him sleep. The cafe was the perfect distance back to the hotel for Lance to have processed eating and be needing to throw it back up. The vampire had eaten enough human food to rival Matt. Keith could keep up, though he tried. Everything tasted amazing, and all he wanted to do was bask in his food coma, then Lance had kicked him out because his hand had slipped a little too low rubbing his boyfriend’s belly. It wasn’t his fault he loved feeling the swell... Lance didn’t trust him to behave. Lance declaring his arse off limits.

Throwing himself down on the sofa in the living area, he was bored already. He’d messaged chat rather than just Pidge, then avoided checking the messages he got in reply. Shay knew he was in Rome for work, and that Lance was on holiday visiting family with his grandmother. Their chat looked rather sad. Shay had expressed her condolences, which Keith accepted on Lance’s behalf. He didn’t have much to do on his own. People were tiring, the noise reaching the hotel room through Lance’s still open bedroom door. If they were going out to dinner, he really should make the effort with Matt and Rieva. Lance was sleeping and he was sure the pair would let him know if Lance needed him back.

Doing what any normal person would do, Keith climbed over to their balcony, knocking on the back door rather than going out into the hall and all the way around. Rieva opened the door with a laugh

“We were wondering how long it’d be before you came over. Couldn’t take the front door?”

“Too much like effort”

“Fair enough. Come in. Mi casa es su casa. Matt, Keith’s here!”

Their hotel room was as nice as Lance’s, decorated the same, complete with clothes everywhere. Keith ignore the thin lace thong hanging off the corner of the sofa as he stood there with his hands in his pockets

“I know Keith’s here! I heard him!”

Matt was rubbing sunscreen on as he came out of his and Rieva’s room. The werewolf having either squeezed too much out, or accidentally burst the tube. The second option seemed more likely seeing it was in his hair. Rieva laughed at her boyfriend, walking over to him. Keith thought she was going to help with the mess until she drew a dick on Matt’s chest. Matt rolling his eyes at her as he smeared sunscreen across the outline to erase it

“Anyway, what brings you over? I didn’t think you wanted to be balcony buddies”

“Leave him alone. You know he only arrived last night”

“He did? Really... Hey!”

Keith snorted as Rieva slapped her boyfriend hard enough for Matt to double over

“Ignore him. I told him we’d go to the pool and he’s been acting like a hyperactive child since”

“Who says I’m not a hyperactive child in disguise?”

Rieva smacked him again

“It would explain so much. Anyway, how is Lance? We saw you two left earlier?”

Keith shrugged, it was really awkward standing there with lingerie just laying around

“About as well as can be expected. Convinced himself that he needs to be strong for everyone else. He’s worked himself up about being rude to you”

Matt huffed, giving up on rubbing in the sunscreen in favour of wiping it on Rieva’s arm. Both werewolves had new scars. Making a face as Rieva wiped sunscreen back on him, Matt sounded as chill as expected

“Lance is “bro-dude” for life. He gets the only free passes we give”

“We really do owe him so much. Garrison is such a lovely town. My boss even let me keep my job despite everything. Now we just need to turn Matt into a respectable member of society”

“I am pretty respectable... This sunscreen is awful”

“As awful as those dead things we found on the beach?”

Matt lit up

“I forgot about those! Hang on...”

Dripping sunscreen from his hair, Matt jogged back into the bedroom. Rieva seemed to know what was happening here.. he was sure he hadn’t missed a hint

“What’s he doing?”

Why was he questioning Matt’s action. He was weird as hell every day of the damn week

“You’ll see”

What was that supposed to mean? Matt calling out

“We found these last night. We thought something had washed up dead on the beach... like a whale or something because there’s sharks and the stench. Anyway, we thought you’d find it interesting”

Coming out with his red converses, Keith could have hugged Matt

“I thought I’d lost them!”

“You would have if we hadn’t been making sure you and Lance were okay. Rieva stopped me from rolling in them...”

“They’re new!”

“They still smell like your feet! And where is the thank you?”

“Thanks guys! Lance had to pretty much organise a new pair for me... you guys are awesome!”

“You’re lucky someone didn’t steal them. Don’t go leaving them around again”

Handing his shoes over, Keith really could have kissed Matt. Finally his stalkerish ways were beneficial

“I had to stop Matt from rolling on them last night. You can take the wolf out of the country, but that doesn’t make him civilised”

“I’m just happy he didn’t chew them... Any way, I wanted to know if you two wanted to go out for dinner with me and Lance tonight? It’s nothing special, and Mami is kind of... he’s still processing. He goes from not being able to say a thing to telling me all about their trip”

“We’d love to. Do you want to come down to the pool with us?”

He’d love to... but he should get back to Lance. Lance had had long enough to fall asleep and he wanted to show him the smiley faces on his shoes...

“I better head back, but I totally owe you for saving my shoes”

“You can pick up tonight’s drink tab...”

“Not with the way you drink. That bill would be higher than both sets of sneakers...”

Matt huffed at him, crossing his arms and channeling the most “Pidge look” he could... Failing on account of the sunscreen

“Cheapskate. Fine. Go back to Lance. We won’t be hurt that you’re bailing on us”

Pidge would have been much more aggressive, with more threats of “ankle biting” or “dick punching”

“It’s only until tonight... I know he’s been... well, Lance, but I’m glad you guys came down here to be here”

Rieva seemed to have “baby fever”

“We couldn’t leave him alone. Did you see how big he’s gotten!? I can’t wait to see the twins... he looks so cute!”

“Careful, babe. Keith might stab you if you make a move on Lance”

“I missed him! Plus werewolves love pups... I can’t wait to see the nursery... you are living in Garrison, right?”

“Oh. Yeah. That’s the plan. Shiro and Curtis are going to live in Platt...”

Matt rolled his eyes

“They should just move out to Garrison. Curtis is going to have fun with those horns of his”

Coran was going to have a proper look at Curtis when he returned. Breaking his horn had had affected his quintessence, now he had two... It was science and quintessence stuff above him

“Yeah. Anyway, thanks for this. I’ll just hop back over the balcony. See you guys later”

Lance was still awake when Keith came back with his shoes. Leaving them in the living area, Keith washed his hands then headed into Lance’s room, Lance raising his head to smile at him

“Have fun?”

“I thought you were sleeping”

“I heard you go...”

“I didn’t want to disturb you sleeping”

“It’s fine... they’re your friends”

Moving over to Lance’s bed, Keith pulled his shirt off before climbing under the covers in with his boyfriend. Spooning up around him, Lance rolled over onto his back, biting his lip as he did

“What’s up?”

“Nothing... just wanted to look at you”

Tucking back a stray curl behind Lance’s ear, he realised his boyfriend had a few small grey hairs. Lance had lamented the lack of grey in his hair...

“What’s wrong?”

“You’ve got grey hairs...”

He expected Lance to shoot up and rush to check. Instead his boyfriend nodded

“Yeah. I look a little older too... Coran pointed it out. He said it’s because so much energy is going into the pregnancy”

“Are you okay? Are the twins okay?”

“I... yeah”

Lance wasn’t telling him everything. He could tell. Gone was the Keith that didn’t pick up on social cues

“Babe, there’s something you’re holding back”

“If I tell you, you’ll hate me”

“That’s impossible. Is it to do with the bleed? Is there some kind of complication?”

“It’s... kind of Coran trying to work things out as it progresses. He said some things, that he’s only guessing... he said I might not carry to full term. That they could be born early. I mean, twins usually are. But another bleed could bad... like actually really bad. He did some genetic testing too... that was scary. A big huge needle right into the stomach...”

Keith’s heart was sinking. That didn’t sound like something people did when things were normal

“Was there something wrong?”

Lance’s hands went to his belly, his boyfriend cared more about his bump than he’d let anyone see

“It’s just a theory that I’m sick because these two are full human, with your blood type instead of mine. Despite floating around in me, feeding on my blood and nutrients and all that, they’re human. But that... could change. I mean, they really should be part vampire... it’s possible that my body could get too weak and start feeding off them... when they’re bigger... My body is kind of unique... I’ve been spending... a lot of time trying to eat as much as I can. You saw me at lunch. I’ve had pretty much no appetite since Mami passed, but I’ve been working hard for them... it’s so frustrating throwing everything back up when I’m trying so hard”

This was the kind of thing Coran should have told him... Coran had tried to talk to him alone. He’d been so desperate to get to Lance... he could have kicked himself. As it was, he didn’t know if the twins were from his weak pull out game or a dodgy condom. He’d never doubted paternity. Lance wasn’t like that... but he was pissed that Lance hadn’t told him this sooner

“Why didn’t you tell me?”

“Because... because I’m trying so hard. I promise I am. I have fresh blood brought to me and I drink more and sleep more and I’ve been careful about not tripping or slipping...”

“Their my twins too. You have to stop taking everything on your own shoulders”

“You weren’t there! You weren’t! I know you couldn’t help it but you were gone and I had to cope the best I could!”

Lance rolled away from him, curling around his stomach as he started to cry. Keith didn’t want to not be there

“I couldn’t help it!”

“I know! I told you to go! And I hate that I did! I hated it! I wanted to go. I wanted to go find you but I couldn’t even be that courageous!”

“Yeah, well it wasn’t that fucking easy being away from you either! Matt and Rieva got hurt! People died! Lotor is now a fucking prince of a whole damn empire! We were being hunted by those loyal to Zarkon. Honerva turned her magic on Curtis! He nearly ended up dead! It was fucking shit!”

“How am I supposed to know this if you don’t tell me?!”

“I don’t know, how am I supposed to know if you run off with our twins and won’t even fucking face all the people that have been there for you!”

“Get out!”

Lance bellowing at him froze Keith. What had he done...

“Lance...”

“Get out!”

“Babe...”

Lance covered his ears, shaking his head

“No! Get out! Get out! Get out!”

“Look... look, okay. Okay. I shouldn’t have snapped, but... I can’t be there for you if I don’t know. I feel shit enough for all I missed”

“How could you think I’m not trying!? You left and everything fucking fell apart! I didn’t know if you were dead or had just run off with someone else!”

“What’s going on here?!”

Rieva and Matt rushed into the room. Rieva demanding to know. Lance was crying on the bed. Keith in tears too

“Lance, I think that’s enough. Keith never looked at anyone else. He was pathetic about missing you the whole time. If there’s something wrong with the twins, you really should have told him sooner”

Rieva growled at her boyfriend, eyes turning yellow. Matt shutting up

“Both of you need to go”

“Bu...”

“Go. You’ve upset him enough and I’m disappointed. Yes, Lance should have told Keith, but when has he had the chance? And when he does, everything turns straight into a fight. Can’t you see how much he’s hurting thinking about the twins? I’m upset that you guys would even consider him capable of hurting the twins”

Keith never said he thought Lance would... He was hurt he hadn’t been told properly. And angry again that Lance seemed so ready to give up on him... He’d never given up on Lance. Then again. He didn’t lose his mother last month and have to deal with his douche siblings

“I didn’t think he’d hurt the twins... but... I... I’m supposed to be the father. All I want is him to lean on me more. To be able to tell me these things, and not act like he’s protecting me by not telling me”

“How am I supposed to tell you I’m defective! That it’s not enough to be fucked up but I’m defective on top of it!”

“You’re not defective! There’s nothing about you that I don’t love!”

Rieva let out a level breath

“Matt, take Keith and go for a walk. I’ll stay with Lance until he calms down”

“But...”

But he was Lance’s boyfriend...

“I think you both need to cool your heads”

#once bitten twice stupid #oncebittentwicestupid #ashratherose

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cutegirlmayra · 4 years

Text

Amy Rose Prompt: Strong

It’s a birthday week! I just thought of this one while watching some inspiring and emotional scenes from all different types of animation. I guess my birthday wish is for characters that I’ve longed to see have a ‘strong impacting moment’ have them again sometime in the future that pumps us all up to cheer for them!

Commissions and prompts are open, but if you’ve submitted 3 ideas already, please hold off and let others have a try! :Db Thank you!

Prompt:

“Metal Sonic!!!” Amy spread her legs into a balanced stance. Her scuffed up boot dug deeper into the ground to give her a firm footing. The wind howled like a forlorn cry as she brought her hammer up, beginning to twirl it around herself as she did when she miraculously deflected Eggman’s canon-fire.

Metal Sonic was already going after his first priority: Sonic.

However, this little pink hedgehog was proving to be quite the nuisance.

He stopped in his departure and turned to see her still rearing to fight, but his scanners only saw her as an annoyance, not a threat.

The image of Rosy the Rascal was engraved in his memory, Amy Rose could not change his view of her. Pathetic.

“I won’t let you run!” she cried out, feeling the ache in her back and to alleviate some of it’s pressure, she hunched forward just slightly. “You will never be like Sonic The Hedgehog!”

It’s head turned with a creek of its steel, and its eyes blazed red in a heated acknowledgement of her words.

She found a moment to take a step forward, pushing herself to make him see her, to defeat the doubts that told her she could be destroyed trying to take him on.

“I’ve decided something, Metal... I’ve decided... I’m not going to try and redeem you.” she squinted her eyes, feeling her heart grow heavy as she admitted that.

He continued to stare at her, now fully turning his body towards her.

“Instead, I’m going to defeat you!” She took her existing hammer and swung it out, making it grow even larger than when Eggman had tried to trap her in that cavern.

“I could only make that decision because I knew two things, Metal Sonic! One, that you will never measure up to Sonic!”

Metal Sonic’s body hunched over, twitching in his rage.

“And secondly... Not just that... but that you don’t have a heart to redeem.” She turned to a moment of tenderness, as though still wishing that weren’t the case. “You’re true to following your programming, and being what you are... a villain. No, worse than that, a villain’s puppet... bent on being nothing more than a nuisance in this world!” She stepped forward again, “So no matter what I say to you, no matter how hard I try and teach you about friendship and the beauty found in this intangible world... you will only hate. Comparing yourself to Sonic, you are nothing like him! He taught Tails how to fly a plane!” she sped herself back into a ready stance as he charged her. It was like he was teleporting, how fast he moved.

He sent a slashing hand through to her center but she reflexed to holding her hammer like a sword engaging against a metallic shredder.

“Grr...Urk... HARRRAH!!!” she threw him off, and he flew back a moment.

“He brought Knuckles out of his isolation!” She swung her hammer to deflect his version of a homing-attack.

All the while, he was moving her back down the mountain, as though proving a point... she could never face him head-on...

As though mocking her for trying, he kept his next consecutive attacks with full force but slower, allowing her to block and continue to be pushed back by his power.

“Urk, gah... ha!” she blocked again and again, trying to swipe at him but he expertly would dodge her.

Zooming in to grab her hammer, he decided now would be a good time to boost his thrusters and send her farther back down the rocky cliff.

“AHHH!!!” he shoved her down and the hardness of the rock scraped against her bareback side.

He tried to pull the hammer out of her grasp, but she held on, making him pull her up as she took a foot and jammed it above his rotating center core, burning with fuel to allow him to operate.

She kicked off and he willingly let go... to him, this was mere child’s play. Just a way to shake her off his tail while he continued to hunt down Sonic.

She landed well but felt herself start to strain. ‘Not now...’ she got herself back up, ‘Not yet.’ she took her hammer in both hands, moving it clumsily over her shoulder.

“Y-you forget... or you don’t know-!” she bent herself, getting ready for the biggest home-run of her life. “Who taught me to fight..!” she charged forward, and underestimating her momentary rest, Metal Sonic leisurely lifted a hand to stop her but was slammed down by the unforeseen force that came with her hit.

He was knocked to the side, his eye-lights shaking due to his mental computer unable to compute what had just happened.

“He helped me to never give up!” she swung again, forcing him back to his feet and then slammed him down once more, “He taught me that you make your own destiny!!! The way you envision it! The way you want it to be!”

She kept hammering into him, and soon, as he began to step back... unable to brace himself from her impacts, he was losing pieces of his metal hide one after the other.

He stumbled, tripped, and fell over himself with each massive hit she threw at him... now he was the one getting pushed back up the mountain’s side...

“You will never be like him... because you don’t know what’s it like! You’ll never understand what Sonic has learned from us! What we’ve gained from him!” she continued to wham him with sensational fury and continual endurance, a steady show of power that only ever increased with each new powerful hit of her Piko Piko Hammer.

Amy’s swings became more and more rapid, but still carried so much weight in every blow.

Metal Sonic’s systems began to glitch out on his eye-lights, unable to process the progression of how far the battle had turned.

“Maybe it’s all Eggman’s fault... or maybe you truly just want to watch the whole world burn... but either way... There can only be one Sonic that lasts in my heart!” She brought the hammer over her head, and a crack of thunder burst from behind her, traveling like a spiderweb through the dark sky.

But it was that moment that Amy hesitated, breathing hard as her compassionate heart got the better of her.

Her eyes loosened from their fierce anger and narrowed bridge, realizing how awful she must appear.

She saw Metal Sonic struggling to get up, one of his eyes dented by her strikes and the other glaring up at her.

“...I’m no monster...” She stepped away, breathing out as the mental image of herself appeared in her mind. “I’m no villain... I’m just a hedgehog... who can’t stand to see people suffer around her...”

Within Metal Sonic’s programming, the image of Rosy the Rascal was being infiltrated, as Metal Sonic began to override his own logic and erase her image from his memory core... replacing it with that terrifyingly powerful stance Amy held before... and blurred out the threat level... having it massively bolded and blaring red: MAJOR THREAT.

“I’m not you.” she hissed out, seeing him shoot himself into the air, and charge his stomach-engine with a growing energy ball...

She remembered... pleading to the Chaos Emeralds to let her go super, and having her wished denied.

Even though she remembered... she held out her hand... “Chaos...”

Metal Sonic threw his arms back, bringing the the charge to the height of its power!

“...Please...” she squinted her eyes in the brightness of his blast that she knew she wouldn’t be able to escape or dodge from.

The Master Emerald flared to life, spiraling out from around it one of the Chaos Emeralds, a orange light spinning with it as it trailed a beautiful glow of chaos energy.

Tikal’s ghostly image appeared behind the flying emerald, moving like a comet towards her open hand to the side. “Amy..!” her voice cried out to her.

As the beam of Metal Sonic’s energy cascaded down like a vigorous wall of molten heat... The Chaos Emerald zipped to Amy’s side, and she caught it.

“CONTROL!!!!” Amy held up the emerald as time itself broke the fabric of space and reality and pushed her through its limits to appear twisting behind Metal Sonic.

He tried to turn around to her, but it was too late.

With one arm, her quills lingering up in the intensity of the moment, Amy crashed her hammer into his back, crunching the circuitry and snapping the tense wires out of place. Electricity burst from his being as he came smacking down into the earth below... Into the very crater of a grave he created for himself...

“AHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!!!!” Amy gave her everything to that attack, the Chaos Emerald’s glow ceased and she began to fall through the air.

“Ha...ha... oh no!” She looked around her, realizing taking out Metal Sonic was now the least of her worries. She had been transported thousands of feet into the air, and now... she was plummeting down at accelerated speeds.

“Sonic...” her eyes watered, before she clutched the Chaos Emerald again, “Chaos control!” her trembling hands from the wind pressure exposed its gloss form only to reveal it was still dull of any influence from her voice command... Her eyes widened, “This can’t be...” she squinted her eyes against the wind force again, “CHAAOOSSS!!! Control!” she tried again, turning it up towards the sky but nothing...

“S...S...Soooniiiccc!!!” she released the emerald from her hand, bundling her fists up to her chest and crying out her hero’s name...

In her most dire moment... a shimmer sparked like a star igniting far from her soul... but a sonic boom pulsed through the air as a figure--launched like a missile--swooped in an arch to grab her before she met her end.

She felt the lapping wind as the figure began to come to a screeching halt, trying to slow its momentum down before she felt herself blackout a moment.

When her limp body came too, she blinked to see a glowing figure above her. “-y...Amy..! Amy!”

Her eyes adjusted... and the bright being before her... was her Sonic.

“Amy, are you alright?” He was leaning over her, his two hands holding him up above her resting body, laying her down by the side of the cold mountain...

“Where’s Metal Sonic..?” He seemed concerned, and a gentle smile lifted to her face as her eyes glistened from his warm light.

“Sonic... I... I did it.” Her voice was barely above a whisper, but it was soft and gentle, something he wasn’t used to.

To show this, he leaned back a moment, his eyes widening in surprise by her sudden expression.

She was so full of gratitude, so content in helping her friends from the threat of Metal Sonic...

His smoking head rest deactivated, after having his form split apart and tumble loose down the rocky cliffs of the mountain’s proud face.

She was proud... but would he be?

“I beat him...” she gave a more fuller grin to her already exhausted and drained complexion. “Now... you’re the only Sonic...”

The only one that mattered.

Sonic’s image was blurring again.

“W-wait...” she wanted it to stay... but in that blurr, it focused only briefly to a proud smile on Sonic’s face, a happy expression.

“Thank you...” He began, as she blinked her eyes softly again, the world darkening once more. “Amy...”

#amy rose #amy rose prompt #sonamy #sonic the hedgehog #cutegirlmayra #metal sonic #metal sonic vs. amy rose

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hexlikesramennoodles · 4 years

Text

For @granpappy-winchester, inspired by Cherry!Billy.

The music was turned down low, the lights dimmed; the festivities’ last stragglers wandering off to either pass out or fuck in whatever spare corner they could find. Robin’s friends had turned the living room into an island of refuse, cigarette butts buried behind the sofa cushions, empty bottles gathered on the coffee table like dominos, cold pizza crusts lining the pot plants. The shattered window had been sealed with excess rolls of duct tape, and yet Steve still felt the wind on his nape; a chilly, autumnal wind, with the knifelike threat of winter in it. He couldn’t see Billy, but he could hear him breathing; shallow and hoarse, as if he’d been walking on a steep upwards incline—or smoking an entire carton of cigarettes, which he did nearly every other day.

“Looks like we’re the last ones standing, Harrington,” Billy said.

The pantry door stood open, the single bulb inside flickering, spilling sallow light across the linoleum. Steve followed the emphysemic rattle of Billy’s lungs; he had memorized the sound, apparently. He knew the way Billy moved, the way he smelled, the shape he took in the darkness; like reaching for a wellworn light switch, you were confident it would be there when you did.

He was struck by the surreal domesticity of the scene: Billy Hargrove, sitting at his kitchen table with the sole of one boot planted carefully on the seat of a chair—Steve’s chair. He was, at nearly four o’clock in the morning, eating a bowl of cereal: balancing the bowl atop his fingertips, slurping noisily from it as one would with soup; Steve’s bowl, Steve’s cereal.

“No one else could keep up,” he added, after a pause.

Steve said nothing.

(He would be lying if he said he hadn’t imagined something like this—wished for it, even—Billy, eating breakfast in his kitchen the morning after, sneaking up behind him to wind his hands around his waist, his jaw whiskery with stubble and his voice sleepy, hazy, asking: what’s cookin’, good lookin’? The answer, Steve imagined, would be French toast, because that was what he had cooked for Nancy. Because Nancy had always stayed, the morning after.)

“Be honest,” Billy said. Both boots were resting on the chair, now. His legs had fallen into a wide V, seemingly casual, but Steve knew better; like a wellworn light switch, Billy was extremely predictable. “If it were you and me—if we were the last two people on Earth, what do you think we’d be doing?”

Steve said nothing.

(Billy never stayed. Billy was here one day and gone the next; he could be gone for weeks. He refused to shower at Steve’s, refused to even touch the spare toothbrush Steve had left for him in the bathroom; if Steve went as far as to offer him breakfast, Billy would laugh in his face. He had learned not to ask, and so he said nothing.)

“Or even—even before the asteroid hits,” Billy said. He was watching Steve closely, the whites of his eyes shining, a little frantic. Setting the cereal bowl down, he dangled his empty palms between his legs; a vague suggestion. An invitation to look, come closer, see for yourself. Steve tried not to look.

He tried to say nothing.

“The asteroid,” Billy repeated, nodding. “Or the nukes. Or a biblical flood sent by God, the Russkies, the fuckin’ Chinese. I’m talkin’ about the end, Harrington. Of everything. When the volcano erupted above Pompeii, you wanna know what the people did? Have a city-wide orgy, right there in the streets.”

“You’re drunk,” Steve blurted out.

(His anger was cold and clear and pure, like the depths of a mountainside stream; for once, he could see all the way down to the bottom. He knew what he was going to do: tell Billy to take a hike. Tell him, get out. No one wants you here. It had all seemed so easy, before; when he’d had something else to protect—the kids, Nancy. Steve was never as good at protecting himself. As a boy, he would forget to look both ways before crossing the road; he had assumed the drivers of the cars could see him. Too willing to see the good in other people.)

“Fucking,” Billy said clearly, in an infuriating, teasing tone, “is the best thing there is. It’s what makes life worth living. That’s what we’ll be doing, when the world ends. We’ll be balls to the wall, going at it like rabbits.”

His smile had unfurled like a sail, wide and white. Steve didn’t return it. Billy was making a pass at him; he was also mocking him for his stupidity, his weakness, his gullibility. Somehow Billy making a pass at him and Billy mocking him with each exhale always seemed to be one and the same. It was the only reason he was here; the only reason he seemed to exist, in Steve’s opinion. “Billy. You’re drunk.”

“I’ve only had one beer,” said Billy.

He stared at Steve, blinking, unmoved. Expression colorless, implacable, erased smooth. You never saw the change happen; Billy would be smiling, laughing even, his face flushed and his gaze bright and sharp—and then he wouldn’t be.

(Steve didn’t even know if he was real, sometimes. He was still wondering if this was one long, feverish dream he had yet to wake up from; a bad fucking trip. Billy was both the high and the crash; he could be both loving and tender, and cruelly dismissive. The ups and downs were hatefully addictive, poisonous, yet Steve couldn’t bring himself to stop. Billy knew. He knew how much Steve liked the chase, the competition. Like they were back on the basketball court again, just the two of them, the world narrowed to the size of a fishbowl.)

“Baby,” Billy said, spreading his legs wider. “Don’t you miss me?”

Steve said nothing.

(Deep down, he knew that it had been Billy who’d thrown the brick through his window. Steve remembered waking to the explosive decompression of shattering glass, the sound of an engine; he had memorized what shape the Camaro took, as well: a blistering roar in the night. As if the sound was the hellish manifestation of Billy’s own rage, burning as hotly as a falling star, burning itself out. Why had Billy done such a thing?

Why did Billy do anything?

Because he could. Because he wanted to.)

“You broke my window,” Steve said abruptly. He regretted the words as soon as they were out of his mouth. Billy would use them as an opening, find a way to shift blame; he would sweettalk Steve, soothe him, make him forget about being angry. Until it happened again. And again.

“I what?”

“Our living room window,” said Steve. “You threw a brick at it. It’s gonna cost me and Robin, like, two hundred dollars to get a new one. Why? Why are you so—”

“I don’t know what you want from me, Harrington.” Billy was frowning, his lower lip jutting out. He looked like a sulky schoolboy. Steve was too calm; too still. Billy hated stillness, people who walked too slowly in the street; he hated the quiet, which was an unknown variable. Billy preferred being in control; they grappled for it, locked in an eternal struggle for power, as all rivals were. It was vicious, petty; it could also be soft, but that was rare. In elementary school, Steve had played war games during recess with the other boys, shooting at them and declaring himself king when he was the only one left, the last boy standing; the rules were not so simple as adults.

“I want you to say that you’re sorry,” he said. “Can you do that?”

Billy rolled his eyes, huffing. “Fi-ine.” He was theatrical with his movements, letting Steve know how ridiculous he thought he was being, how much of an unnecessary fuss he was making. The Queen of Sheba, getting his royal panties in a twist. That’s what he called Steve sometimes, smiling and snide: the Queen of fucking Sheba. What, you want me to kiss your feet, Your Majesty? “I’m so-rry. How was that, pretty boy? Are we friends again?”

“Is that what we were, before? Friends?”

“ ‘Course we were,” Billy said, too quickly, too comfortably. “I’m everybody’s friend.”

Liar, Steve thought. Billy didn’t have any friends, apart from Steve. If you could call what they had friendship—it wasn’t, Billy could say it was until he was blue in the face, but he was lying, he lied so easily—a moot point, either way. Billy didn’t have friends. People swarmed to him in droves, like moths blind to the lethal electricity, the sharpness of his teeth, all the better to eat you with—they weren’t his friends, but means to an end. They gave him booze, weed, a place to sleep when he had nowhere else to go; sometimes, they gave him sex. Of that, Steve had no doubt.

(He thought he’d known what he was getting himself into. Billy had warned him. You’re just a warm hole to me. Did Steve even have a right to be angry, when he had seen the bullet coming from a mile away, had goaded Billy into pulling the trigger himself?)

“Baby,” Billy said; he sounded breathless again, perfectly contrite. His lips were as dark as ripened cherries. Steve thought he knew what the lipstick was called. Little Red. He knew where Billy had hidden it, too—in the glovebox of his Camaro, where he also hid his porn, rolling papers, and condoms. On anybody else, such a color would look whorish, cheap. Steve had watched Billy put it on, his mouth puckering as he stared at himself critically in the rearview mirror; after dabbing the bullet onto the center of his lips, Billy had smacked them together, fingering his hairsprayed curls until they bounced; he had done this in the same haughty way Steve had seen girls do, the beautiful, untouchable girls they’d both gone to high school with. I’ll kill you if you tell anyone, Harrington. I mean it. I’ll break your fucking fingers.

Steve hadn’t told anyone. The lipstick left pinkish smears on his neck, his nipples, his cock. It had occurred to him that Billy was attempting to rewrite some essential part of himself; plucking his eyebrows, curling his hair, stripping the hard external coating of his masculinity away. Steve wondered if Billy, as a child, had ever played dressups with his mother’s clothes. If he did, his dad had probably beaten him for it.

(You’re a better fuck when you’re angry, Billy had told him. He preferred Steve’s anger to his softness, as if the only emotions Billy understood and could navigate were fury, pain, and grief. A child, trying his mother’s clothes on for size—trying on the lipstick, the eyeliner, the lady’s perfume he filched from the SALE! counter at the drugstore—furtively and when no one was looking, as if to do too much, too overtly, would endanger him.)

“Say you’re sorry,” Steve said.

Billy opened his mouth, perhaps to argue at first—if he ever apologized, it always came with a disclaimer—then his expression changed, sharpened. The chair toppled to the floor as he slid into a standing position. His fingers scrabbled for his belt buckle, suddenly clumsy; it was Steve who slid the leather through the loops of his jeans, folding it up and laying it next to the cereal bowl. Without the belt to hold it in place, Billy’s jeans sagged, looser than usual, making it easy for Steve to pull the denim all the way down his legs. He could see the paler skin of Billy’s pelvis where his tan didn’t reach, and, cutting into his hipbone, a delicate scrim of red, shiny satin.

Billy was wearing panties.

“You got a hot date tonight, baby?” Steve demanded.

“I wish,” replied Billy. “The asshole never returned my calls.”

He was leaning on the table using his forearms as leverage, his head angled over one shoulder; his gaze was relentless, unnerving. So glaringly blue.

“So, what,” Steve murmured, his thumb grazing the edge of the red satin. Billy regarded him coolly over his shoulder, his eyes rebellious slits. Ready to bite back, at any given opportunity. “You decide to smash his window with a brick? Like that’s something any normal, sane person would do?”

“You were ignoring me,” Billy insisted. “You were rude, Harrington.”

His lip continued to jut out; it looked swollen, obscene. He sounded so reasonable, so wholly convincing, that Steve almost believed what he was saying—he wanted to. He wanted to bite into the cherry of Billy’s lower lip, taste him, let his juices flow down his chin.

“In other words,” he said, “you can dish it out, but you can’t take it.”

One thumb became a thumb and a forefinger, pushing the panties up and away; baring Billy’s soul. He took note of Billy’s thighs: thick with muscle, but lusciously soft to the touch; he’d shaved.

(The image of Billy with one foot perched on the edge of the bathtub and a woman’s razor in hand floated into being, unbidden. There was something about the ritual that had always seemed erotic to Steve; maybe it was the privacy of it, the unknowability of femininity—how many times had he and Tommy been caught by their teachers trying to sneak into the girls’ locker room, if only to see what went on behind closed doors? In that sacred state, Billy would be completely naked, at his most vulnerable.)

“Fuck you,” spat Billy. “You think you’re too good for me? Huh? You ain’t shit, pretty boy. Don’t get too big for your britches—”

He moaned angrily, his arms spasming as Steve shoved the blunt head of his cock between his legs, plastering his chest to Billy’s torso; there came the subtle snarl of tearing satin, the panties falling to pieces between the tight friction of their bodies, grinding, so close—a fact neither of them would register until later, until it was over.

“Don’t put this on me,” Steve said, pressing his mouth to Billy’s neck. “You told me, remember? You told me that you don’t care what I—what anybody—thinks.”

“Fuck you,” said Billy. Desperately, as if he had realized that he was on the losing side; as if this was his last resort. “Fuck you, fuck you, fuck you.”

Steve drove forwards, using the silky, slightly sticky corridor of Billy’s thighs like a glove, like his own fist around his cock. It wasn’t hard to imagine that he was fucking Billy, really fucking him; Billy was slamming his hips to match his pace, his cheek flattened against the scratched surface of the kitchen table and his wrists crossed behind his back. He mewled when Steve caught on his perineum, his spine bowing into a parabola of pleasure, outrage, or both. Fuck you. Fuck you. Fuck me. Stevie, Stevie, Stevie. His moans were loud and brash, performative; obviously not for his own benefit. Steve hated that. Billy thought he was the smartest person in the room, but he didn’t know how transparent he was, truly.

“Shit, Steve,” Billy was panting, biting his lip. When he reached around to take Steve’s cock in hand, Steve saw that his nails were painted the same cherry color as his mouth. It nearly did him in, the sight of his cock moving through the cage of Billy’s fingers, all that debauched red. “You make me feel so good. So fucking good, like this.”

He mewled again when Steve wrapped a hand around his throat, digging his fingers ruthlessly into his air supply; Steve saw the blonde curls drop, the hard, clenched arch of Billy’s spine giving way like a snapped power cable. His Adam’s apple strained under the pressure of Steve’s hand; the false sounds issuing from his throat had ceased. Steve was coloring Billy in; filling in the uncertain lines, making him seem more lifelike. The lipstick was getting everywhere, feathery vibrant slashes of it on Steve’s palm and knuckles, as if he’d been fingerpainting; adding shade and depth and nuance, marking Billy, marking himself.

“Steve,” Billy said. His voice was hushed, remote. As if he were dissolving, liquefying like one of those hard candies that came in the plastic wrapping, especially susceptible to heat; turning into sugared sludge, sweet enough to make your teeth ache. They were merging into one another. “Steve, honey. Look at me.”

His eyes, latching onto Steve’s face, his mouth. He knew how much Steve needed eye contact during sex, how much he craved it. The shreds of intimacy he scattered like breadcrumbs, because he enjoyed watching Steve get on his knees for them; begging, like a dog for scraps. They were merging, holding hands.

“Sorry’s—sorry’s just a word you say,” Steve grunted. He watched Billy’s fingers, the gemstone flashes of his painted nails as he pushed between his legs, slowly at first, then sharply, brutally, as if he were stabbing Billy, or exorcising him. “It doesn’t—ah—it doesn’t mean anything. It’s just you telling me what I wanna hear.”

He drove forwards and forwards, losing sight of the painted nails as he came, his eyes slipping shut and cock bucking, spurting between Billy’s thighs. He might have heard a moan, a curse. Billy’s legs were trembling; his shoulders had slumped forwards, as if he were concussed, or praying. Their come dripped steadily onto the linoleum, pale as churned egg whites; dreamily, Steve reached down and caught some of it on his fingertips, ignoring Billy’s reflexive shudder.

(He tried to remember where he was, where he had been before Billy had come into his life; he had been at a party. Robin’s party, or had it been Tina’s? They all looked the same, after a while: the same music, the same clinging miasmas of marijuana and free beer and unsafe sex; the same leftover cigarette butts and pizza crusts in the pot plants, the cheese hard as dried chewing gum.)

Billy whispered, “It’s not my fault you’re so easy.”

Mists of sweat hovered between his eyebrows, his upper lip; his hips had slowed to a lazy, languid roll. Billy smiled, looking like an insolent cat, the cat that got the proverbial cream. Then he rose, his hair falling in fuzzy cumulus clouds around his shoulders, and kissed him. Steve’s reaction was pained, immediate—he told himself that he didn’t want to be kissed, he didn’t want to have anything to do with what Billy considered intimacy; he wasn’t anyone’s experiment, damn it, he didn’t want to be fed Billy’s scraps—the taste of the lipstick was waxy, alien, as was the way Billy was licking into his mouth: using too much tongue, making a mess, bloodying him with the color. Steve knew how it would look, when he finally pulled away: like they had cannibalized each other. Like Billy had torn his heart out, dripping, and eaten it.

#harringrove #billy hargrove #steve harrington #my writing #lemon #unhealthy relationships #gender issues #i was excited to post this on friday but then i waited too long #telling myself it wasn't good enough #and now i'm self-conscious about it #i hope it measures up to what may very well be a fandom classic #sara has that galaxy brain level of storytelling skill that i'm very envious of y'know #they inspire me a ridiculous amount #and i'm really thankful for that

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mamafishfound · 4 years

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Leon: The Rabid Lion and Astrology

Alright finally got to posting this I'm sorry it took so long a lot was going on with the Cornovirus stuff and my husband had issues with his green card and can't find it which we had no luck finding but alas thats a unrelated issue to the post. So here we are for the long awaited Star Crossed Myth and Astrology post

The Leo Archtype

Leo is ruled by the sun and rules the 5th house, the house of creative expression, arts, hobbies,children, and ect. Leo energy shines the brightest when it is in your sun sign and many famous Leos tend to pursue theater careers and are stereotyped as dramatic and attention-seeking. In a way when we first met Leon, he instantly was all like " you do what i say woman" and magically took her up in the sky to show her the stars. Logically speaking he was just trying to convince her he and the rest of the gods were for real not just trying to kidnap her XD, but the way he did all that was very dramatic and theatrical hahaha. So right off the bat, Leon was very Leo like ASSHOLE edition. In my experience, Leo placement folks are rather generous expressive and kind and although they appear to be self centered, they are kind to their friends and love to share the spotlight. Leon I guess is the kind of Leo who is sick of all this attention due to his powers (if you consider it a power hehe) and thus he wanted to withdraw himself from others and used his powers to appear dominate and in control. Leo energy is very much all about keeping up their reputation and the bad apples of the signs can come across arrogant and egoistic, which Leon shows right off the bat in his route and other routes. Leon's whole purpose is to erase his sin of rejecting true love. Leo archetype is all sharing and expressing love so Leon is basically an unevolved Leo that need to find love for himself once more. Leon was always hard on himself and due to his guilt of indirectly causing a goddess to fall from grace... I don't blame him.

Leon hides the very dark and sad feelings he has and its up to the MC to help him rediscover the true beauty and essence of love. Love does correlate with creative expression that the archetype is all about and I don't blame the king of the heavens casted him away. Leon shouldn't just waste away in self doubt and hide it in shield of aggressiveness and arrogance. Fixed signs in general can have a hard time being open to different perspectives in morale and values and when they are fixed in one way to view the world its a bit of a challenge for them to change it up. This isn’t the say all fixed signs are narrow-minded but when they do change its almost like they go through a metamorphosis and they are better then ever.

Leo is a fire sign and its also fixed, so passion and self expression is strong and upfront. I only met a few introverted Leos and even they have a certain type of stubbornness that is unmatched. Leon takes several chapters to admit his downfalls and give love one more shot. He didn’t believe in true love because all he saw was goddesses lust for his sex and power, so he came to one conclusion that love is not real and he wanted to change the heavens to see through his own image. He even attempted to overthrow the king and take his place. He was someone who thought highly himself and wanted his way only. Its no wonder he is the leader in his department due to his power and charisma that the Leo archetype is all about.

once Leon opened up his cold heart to MC then he is absolved of his sin and he can fully represent the Leo sign. He still is a bit controlling dominate and sadistic (which is why we all secretly love him for hehe) but after he reaches his revelation in love he is more caring generous and kind to the MC. He definitely did a 180 and was more daring and love struck which i can see in Leo placements in general. Leo energy is also known to be wildly sexual and hot and heavy in the bedroom. Leon in some side stories and sequels to his story he definitely is known as an amazing sex god.

The 5th House

This house in astrology is associated with our creative endeavors, hobbies, casual flings, self-expression, and artistic talents. This house is how we standout (or don't standout?) in this world compared to others or audience we are "performing" to. Leo energy is said to be the performers of all the signs so we can imagine that this energy desires to shine through. Leon is the main guy in this story and its no wonder, since he is the route who "outshines" the rest of the guys. Kidding of course LOL, but if you saw the interview of one of the writers of the story, she appeared a bit thirsty for Leon when discussing his storyline. He kept trying to paint the Heroine to be so into him when she got embarrassed over seeing him and Teo having an "orgy" ( like they were just messing around but basically it appeared to be like that LMAO) and even pointed out their bet on the Heroine to be curious and want to "watch their performance". Perhaps she did want to secretly see it but to be accused of such can be humiliating haha. I understand that since I'm a 12th house person ( I'll go over that on Ichthy's analysis if you are unfamiliar with the houses in astrology) I tend to hide my true colors and myself out of shame and insecurity and so seeing Leon being so arrogant and so full of himself rubs me the wrong way and it explains why hes one of my least favorite characters, because he represents everything i shame myself to feeling. Arrogance and cockiness can be seen in the 5th house but remember that is only shown if the said individual is enabled to do so.

Leon represents the side of this house with casual flings and self-expression. He is the head minister of the Wishes department, and even though he acts like he could care less, he is very passionate of his role. All the gods under his department respect him despite his blatant affairs. The fifth house is all about living life to the fullest and expressing ourselves in a way that makes us feel special and unique. The sun rules this house and its no wonder because the sun is the brightest star in our solar system. Leon knows this and it seems he is tired of this yet he still enjoys having the limelight still. This is very stereotypical of Leo energy in general but I feel Leon is just bored of simply getting attention just because he wants to gain attention being unexpected and challenges the King for it by attempting to take his power. I think side stories or his POV route goes over this more but Leon is tired of playing by the rules and he wants to go extreme in order to feel more "alive". From what i heard from others regarding his second season stuff and other side stories, his route is all about the DRAMA and its no wonder he's pushed to be the front man of the game....we all love a hot and dramatic story line for our daily otome hahaha (and if you don’t well....ajfklajlfjakljflajjaklajlGAJJJ lol jk do you boo).

Children also represent this house and normally its associated with your relation with children or how you are as a child. This house also might cue in about your own children if you chose to have any that is. There is a saying that says " Children brighten our world" which is fitting considering what makes us stand out and "bright" is what this house is all about. Leon is not necessarily a big fan of children (unless side stories of his reveal otherwise) but his dramatic and unfiltered comments to the Heroine can be deemed "childlike". Someone correct me but he and Partheno are the only routes that its confirmed the Heroine get preggers right? If not then what i am about to say is invalid but its no wonder Leon's route gets the married with a baby ending. I wonder how he would be as a father? I bet he will shower his child with love tender and care but would also push his child to be the best version of themselves. People in general with personal planets in the 5th house if they decide to have kids, are very good parents and would be the fun mom or dad that encouraged their kids to reach their dreams.

Planets in Leo

Okay so we talked about the archetype of Leo and the house placement and a bit of its ruling planet (the sun) of Leo as well. Now for planet placements. I will only be focusing on the 9 planets astrologers study just to keep things simpler. If anyone wants more of my take on other placements such as Chiron, North node, or even Lilith, let me know I will make a separate post for that. In a birth chart the moment you were born its made by the exact placement the planets are at the time. The sun sign is normally what horoscopes go over but did you know that Venus mars and other planets impact you even more? Since the gods rule their own sign, we can assume their birth chart is all in one sign haha. So I will be going over how Leo energy is played in each planet and how its shown in the entire main story for Leon's route.

Sun in Leo

The sun is considered our sole purpose in our life time. It also is the part of us that is our over all theme of our personality and life choices. It also is what we want to become in the future. The sun sign is normally what horoscopes focus us but the sun sign is only like a summary to our life long autobiography. Sun in Leo is Leo's true home planet and its easier to pick out Leo sun folks especially if their sun sign is positioned between the 1st and 5th houses. Leon is very much the staple of Leo with his arrogance, confidence and need to be dramatic. Though at times he tries to act like he could care less, its soooo obvious he does care about being the center of the Heroine's attention even in the begining of his route XD.

Moon in Leo

The moon sign is known as the "dark side" of your personality. The moon is the hidden sense of self that only your close loved ones or significant others experience. The moon is also associated with the mother or women in your life. The moon is how we react and how we internalize our emotions as well. Most astrologers will look at your moon sign and might come up with what kind of mother or mother figure that raised you, since the mother is the parent that teaches and nurtures us and our emotional well being. Since there was no talk about Leon's parents in the main story (maybe in side stories? ) we will talk about how Leon expresses himself emotionally and how his emotions change based on how the Heroine interacts with him as they get to know each other. I really saw his moon shine when he saw how the Heroine was passionate about helping Her best Friend Hyori's romance life. Normally Leon acts like he could care less but he was being inspired by the Heroine's persistence to make Hyori and her bf to get along again after a big fight. Another example was when Leon openly gives respect to the Heroine in teaching him love and its real meaning. Well go over that more in the Venus section. his emotions are volatile and responds when the heavens started to go against him. Leo moon folks normally are vibrant and warm folks and are good at sharing the lime light over Leo sun folks. Leon even thanks and acknowledges the Heroine for being so strong in the forbidden ending which is the epiphany of how Leo moons show their feelings.

Mercury in Leo

The mercury sign is associated with the conscious mind. This planet is all about how we communicate and retain information within. Mercury also is about our learning style and thinking pattern on a daily and mercury normally is closely aligned with our sun sign. Mercury in Leo are folks that can come across as theatrical and dramatic and are good at gassing themselves and others. The spotlight for this placement is vibrant and fun and Leon at the get go of the route is blunt with the Heroine. He is sadistic in his thinking and has fun being dominant an is very open in dialogue over that. Remeber when Leon would always call out the Heroine when she was distracted or doing something that is laughable? I do remeber her talking to Karno and he so calls out her out being a fickle goldfish. Throughtout his route he communicates with sass and always seems to want to start something. Its no wonder Zyglavis and Scorpio can't stand him, he just sooo full of himself but at least he can back it up being the strongest god in the heavens next to the king himself.

Venus in Leo

Venus is major component that Leon seems to lack connection with in the route. Venus is the planet of love, romance, and short term gains. Its also how we show are love to others and how we expect to be loved back as well in romantic relationships especially. Spolier alert, its love that Leon seems to underestimate love , causing the King of the heavens to kick him out to figure what is loveeeee baby dont hurt me (sorry i had too LOL). Leon doesnt realize this and thought since he did not pleasure the goddess that obsessed over him that was the reason he was cast away from the heavens. The 5th house has a tendency to be more about the fun and thrill regarding love and can get confused with lust. That is what Leon seem to have an issue with, he was so used to being the center of attention due to his power to give absolute pleasure but he always felt like he was being used by others. He wanted more when it comes to love and thats what the Heroine teaches him. Love can come in many different ways and I find Venus in Leo folks love to share the spotlight and help others find love within the best kind of trait in Venus in Leo.

Mars in Leo

Mars is considered the planet of action, agression and sex. Its very much the opposite of Venus. Mars is greatly shown in Leon's route, especially when he decided to fight the King of Heavens. Mars in Leo has a powerful force within any individual that has this placement. Leon's abiliies are known to be the most powerful and every god and goddess fear and respect him. Even Zyglavis the other department head fears him. going back to the concept of love, Leon confuses lust and love and he is apologetically thinks he knows better then what the heroine has to say about love and he gets aggressive if questioned or dissed. Leo placement folks tend to easily get offended and might lash out quickly if anyone questions their stance or actions. Leon is no exception and that plays in the role of fear and respect among all the gods in the heavens.

Jupiter in Leo

Jupiter is the planet of expansion and good fortune. Its the planet in our chart that gives us the most luck and talent wherever its positioned in the chart. I have this placement in my own birth chart (but in retrograde smh lol) and I think its shown in Leon's route with his natural charisma and excellent leadership skills. He might be feared and sought after the most but everyone relies on him the most when the going gets tough in the heavens. Even though he was cast out of the heavens for his sin, the gods still go to him for help as soon as they realize he can still use his powers. He basically is the ace and brings luck to the heavens when the going gets tough.

Saturn in Leo

Saturn is the planet of restrictions and discipline. Its considered the grandfather of all the planets. Leon is put on restriction for loosing interest in love and not doing his job to the fullest. He also is arrogant and looks down on those who don't have power like him. I see the king of heavens being like Saturn in these circumstances for he wants to teach Leon a lesson for getting too full of himself just becauae he has the most power. The entire route is basically synonymous to his Saturn in Leo that teaches him to not get cocky about himself and realize love's true meaning and to share love to all humans to be able to do his job correct. After all he is the head of the department of wishes and how could he grant wishes if he doesn’t even believe in the power of love?

Uranus in Leo

Uranus is considered one of the generational planets of change and humantarian pursuits. In the sign of Leo change is necessary on how you are viewed in the spotlight whether for a good or bad reasons. I think change occurred when Leon and 5 other gods where cut of their powers and had to figure out what their sin they needed to absolved from. Uranus is not comfortable in Leo since Uranus's original ruler is Aquarius, the opposing sign of Leo. So its no wonder Leon tried to fight the King and rallied up the other gods to go against him.

Neptune in Leo

Neptune is also a generational planet of modern day changes and the overall dreams society might strive for as a whole. Leon does have a wish to rule over the heavens and be the strongest god there ever is (spoiler alert he does in the ending of season 2 LOL) and he grows tired of the King of Heaven's sadistic ways so its no wonder he tries to go against him. I also associate Neptune in his job as head minister in department of wishes. Since dreams and wishes tend to intertwine, when it comes to granting wishes he seems to go for those of hidden desires in human's need to be center of attention. He did grant the boys need to get stronger to help his grandma as an example in his route. Wanting to be the center of attention is not inherently bad especially if its where you shine to help others in need and being the "hero".

Pluto in Leo

Now finally the planet of death is here haha that is not to say literal death but it does have association with the death and rebirth cycle. Pluto is the final generational planet that defines the exact generations itself ( such as boomers or generation z ect) each generation brings something new to the society and transformation on how things are change with changing times. Pluto is also represents what we need to change and evolve in our individual placements. Since the gods probably been around from many millions of years so Pluto's effects probably are more immediate then gradual. it took 12 chapters for Leon to learn about love and its true meaning so Pluto's transformation was more immediate for Leon then any human ever lol.

So How Accurate is the Game then?

So is the game accurate in representing Leo? Well that’s subjective they do got the negative stereotypes down of Leo's such as arrogance, over dramatic, and sadism but remember just because that is considered the bad traits doesnt mean all Leo's are like this. I have known a lot of great Leo's that are generous, entertaining and kind. In fact in my experience Leo's shine gives me hope for a better future in humanity itself. I think once Leon does realize the value in true love then that’s when more positive traits of Leo are shown. Leon is not overall horrible character he just has flaws that tend to get excused because he is the main guy and we as consumers that play this game are suppose to not care and want some of that shit he does to us because he is soooo hOt...Which is problematic but isn’t that the tea and Leo energy thrive in the drama in general even if they don't mean too. His route is the most dramatic and its only fitting that its because he's a Leo. Now a friend of mine (shouting out to u @bitch-pinnacle 😍) told me that the gods character design are similar to the Ascendant of each sign. The Ascendant is the sign that reflect your outward demeanor and how you are perceived to others. Finding your ascendant is by knowing your exact time of birth and it starts the entire house system in your birth chart. Leo rising are known to have hair like the mane of a lion and are expressive and lavish looking and tend to attract anyone to them. That definitely sounds like Leon. Even in his god form his hair is all big and long like a Leo rising are said to be like. So overall i think the game is pretty accurate its just that in the get go Leon embodies the negative side of Leo and I can see that rubbing you Leos the wrong way haha. After all if people say unpleasant things about you even if not meaning to can offend you. Leo folks in my experience get readily hurt fast if ridiculed or questioned. After all Leo is the performers of the zodiac and shine the most out in the open.

#leon #star crossed myth #astrology #leon scm #otome games #otome #zodiac #leo

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yanara126-writing · 4 years

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Atonement

Edér and the Watcher have a long needed talk after the events at Cayron's Scar. When the Watcher shares her history, she gives Edér a few things to think on, and maybe even a spark of hope.

Read here or on Ao3

Have fun! Comments always welcome! :)

It was dark and well after dusk already. The nights around this time of year were cool, but not unbearable, so Edér didn't bother with finding his cloak first. He wished the others a good night and stepped out of Brighthollow. He stopped for moment, breathing in the crisp air and looking over the keep. It’d come along nicely since the day when they’d first come here. The houses in the courtyard were no longer ruins, but functioning buildings, housing the people that’d come to the reborn keep. It was beautiful, at least for his simple tastes. Though he could probably do without the creepy adra fingers around the chapel. Really, he kept waiting for that thing to just close it's hand and crush the little thing with everyone in it.

He sighed once and made his way to the chapel. He was in no hurry; he knew she’d be there. She always was, when they were in Caed Nua. Sleeping at the foot of the Eothas statue she had so lovingly repaired and dedicated herself. It seemed to be the only place she could sleep peacefully these days, no matter how uncomfortable that stone had to be.

He stopped in front of the chapel again and let the sight sink in. No matter how often he came here, it still made him a little unsettled. He’d told the Watcher that he’d remained steadfast in his beliefs and that was true, but still doubt gnawed at him. That he’d been wrong and Woden right, as always. And so the burning candles here and in the temple back in Gilded Vale both relieved and scared him.

He slowly drew in a breath, held it and released it again. Then he drew his hand through his blonde hair, just like his mother had always told him not to. He was here for a reason. It wasn't technically his turn, but everyone else had already been half dead on their feet, so he’d offered. Not that anyone was still keeping track anymore. Someone was always there to do it. To carry her back and put her to bed. In the beginning they’d tried to convince her to stay in the first place, but seeing as how that way nobody got any rest with her screaming and sobbing all night, they soon stopped trying. To prevent her waking up with a stiff neck every day, they always came to carry her back, once she was asleep. Well, it was mostly Edér and Kana and now Maneha as well. Pallegina had refused to enter the chapel and no one thought it worth arguing over. Aloth had tried taking her back once, but only succeeded in giving her a very rude awakening on the hard ground and breaking his own nose in the fall. He’d agreed that perhaps practicing a few calming spells might be the better option for him. Zahua had offered recently, but as much as Edér liked the guy, he did not trust him with the sleeping Watcher.

He stepped forward and pushed the door open. The warm light of candles spilled out the door, lighting up the night and giving a clear view of the inside. She was here, but not asleep and curled around the statue's feet as he’d expected. Instead she knelt in front of it in prayer. She looked up shortly when she heard him come in and then went back to praying. He remained standing in the door and felt awkward. Should he wait? She didn't seem like she was going to fall asleep soon and watching her just felt wrong. He felt like he was intruding on something private and personal.

He turned around and was about to leave, maybe come back a bit later, when she spoke. Much more softly than he was used to from her.

“Stay, please.” He hesitated a second, then stepped in and closed the door behind him. He knelt down next to her keeping as quite as possible. The church of Eothas had always been more forgiving in that area than he’d heard from others, but his mother had made very sure that he knew how rude it was to interrupt someone's prayer. He briefly thought about joining her in prayer for a bit, but decided against it. If Eothas really was still listening, she deserved his whole attention. Gods knew she needed it. Or maybe they didn't and wasn't that the issue?

“Thank you.” For a second he wondered if he’d imagined it. She hadn't moved, her robe was still bunched around her knees the same way and her priest's cloak was still gently falling over her shoulders like before.

“Well, if a priest tells you to stay in church, you better do,” he answered with a slight grin.

“You know that's not what I meant.” She still didn't move, so he turned back to the statue and let the smile slip. Did he know? Sure, there’d been plenty occasions where he'd helped her out, but that was the point of traveling in a group. They’d never felt the need to exchange words of gratitude before and he really couldn't think of anything recently that would change that. She seemed to sense his confusion or at least grew tired of the silence, because after a while she continued and he turned his head to her again.

“For everything. I wouldn’t be here if it wasn't for you. And all I've done in return is put you and everyone else in danger. You have no reason to follow me, no duty to uphold. I owe all of you, and you in particular, a great debt.” He sighed long and hard. The war had taught him many things. Mostly that life was too short to drown in misery, so he did his best to just take things as they came. But sometimes it became a bit much. Especially when it concerned her. In the last few months Edér had grown rather protective of her. Though she was certainly capable enough on her own, he couldn’t help himself. With her certainty and confident faith, she reminded him of Woden. And so, he never liked it when she got like that. He much preferred her conviction fuelled rants and childlike delight to her gloomy moments. They’d been getting more frequent lately, which was understandable but still emotionally exhausting. He turned around and sat down with his back against the statue's pedestal. Maybe it wasn't Eothas' attention she needed right now.

“Is this about the abbey?” It had to be. He was far more bothered about what had happened in the crater, but he knew, that had hardly been a question for her. They would have to talk about her lack of self-preservation at some point, but this wasn't that point.

She put her hands into her lap and lowered her eyes. He could see her swallow hard and start rubbing her fingernails against each other, a gesture he’d learnt to identify as a nervous habit. He sighed again. He seemed to be doing that a lot today, but after the last few days he could forgive himself for that.

She opened her mouth only to close it again and chew on her lip. It took her a few tries to shape her thoughts into words and he waited patiently.

“I drowned them. They asked me to let them go, and I drowned them. All because of a sense of duty to a goddess that isn't even mine.”

“One of them asked you, the others were already so far gone they jumped us every chance they got. And even that guy was rambling to his dead wife before he managed to scratch together his last bits of brains. Releasing them wouldn't have helped them.” The floor was getting more uncomfortable. Or maybe it was just the topic. “Remember that guy I told you about? The one with the roasted chickens? In one of his fits he bit a child’s fingers off. The night after he bashed his own head in. You really think that’d have been better?”

A light rattling could be heard. The sunstones of her prayer beads were clanking together, she was shaking so hard. He leaned forward and gently put his hands over her's. The rattle stopped.

“They chose to serve their goddess, and in return I drowned them.” He gripped her hands a little tighter with one hand and used the other to carefully lift her face, firmly looking her in the eyes.

“They chose their fate. It was cruel and they didn't deserve it, but it wasn't your fault. You let them fulfil their duty and gave them a new chance on the wheel. They would’ve drowned with or without you, but at least now they were the last ones, right?” He smiled and did his best to put the same warmth into it he remembered from the temple back home. From before the purges.

It seemed to work at least a little, since he could feel her hands relax just a little and saw her shoulders sag. Her lips twitched a little upwards and suddenly he became aware of his own tension leaving him. He squeezed her hands again before letting go, leaning back and stretching a bit.

With some shuffling she got off her knees and sat down properly as well. She was still chewing on her lip and started fiddling with the prayer beads.

Now that he wasn’t busy with a distraught friend anymore, he noticed how dark it actually was. The stained-glass windows never let much light pass through, even less at night, so the only source of lighting were the numerous candles that never seemed to go out or burn down. He'd always liked those. Still, the chapel was very different from the temple, a lot smaller for one. It probably hadn’t always been dedicated to Eothas, but time had erased all evidence of what else it could’ve been. The temple had also been more open, though not quite as open as it was now. Still had a ceiling.

“...I was apprenticed to an Ondra priestess once, you know?” she mentioned suddenly, in a tone so casual she could’ve been talking about the weather. Well that was... huh. He was so shocked, he forgot to be uncomfortable for a second.

“I never... I never thought you'd be...” He really didn't know how to react to that. “Is Ondra like, different in Aedyr?” he settled on asking. She smiled wider and wasn't that worth the cold ass and stuttering?

“Not really no. And I'm not, that's why I didn't stay, really it was just for a few weeks. The idea of just forgetting your issues didn't seem right to me in the end. Lord knows, I would have had enough of them. But the nuns of the convent raised me too well for that.” Her smile became sad again.

“Frankly, you lost me at 'apprentice’.” He really should've taken the coat, then he'd at least have something to sit on, because he had a hunch that this was going to take a while.

She sighed deeply. “It's a rather long story, really.”

“I’m not going anywhere for a while.” He'd come to give her some peace and if he had to sit on a cold stone floor for a while, he would without complaint.

She remained silent for a while and Edér sat and waited unmoving and patient. He might’ve seemed like dim-witted country bumpkin to some, that didn’t mean he couldn’t be thoughtful when he chose to be. When she started talking it was first haltingly, becoming more and more fluent the longer she talked, as if a dam had finally broken after years.

“I grew up in the city of Mithlon. It's the religious centre of the Aedyran Empire. Almost all big religions have their headquarters there. My parents worked as secretaries in some temple or other, I don't remember. The thing is, I had... issues as a child. I was... violent. Angry all the time. I don't know why, I just was. That didn't exactly endear me to my parents. And then came the point when I completely lost their love. I pushed my sister out the first story window of our house. For no real reason, I just wanted to hurt her. My parents grabbed her and ran with her to the nearest healer. When they came back, they packed a few of my clothes in a bag, brought me to the Eothas temple and left me there. They said only the god of redemption could help me now. I never saw them again. I don’t even know if she lived.” She fell silent after that. He desperately tried to think of something to say, to end the painfully heavy silence.

“Well, I'd say he did help you,” He said with a rather awkward smile. No matter how hard he tried to reconcile the picture of a raging and violent child with the compassionate and faithful young woman in front of him, he just couldn't imagine it. Sure, she had bad days like everyone else, but even at her angriest, she always did her best to settle things the non-violent way.

“There was a time when I didn't think so,” she continued, while looking up to the statue and moving her fist in the eothasian prayer sign. Three spots, for Eothas’ three main incarnations. The heart for Eothas' compassion, the shoulder for Gaun’s tools and actions and the forehead for the Dawnstars' unity. “I became better with time. I was put into the children's Sanctuary, a place where all children who need it are welcome. It's mostly used by the temple's apprentices and a few orphans. The nuns and monks were patient with me and slowly I got... less angry. But I still didn't feel like I belonged. So when the time came to decide on a future for me, I never even considered just staying and becoming an apprentice myself. Still, the temple life was all I knew, so I looked into different faiths. Magran seemed the obvious choice.” Edér blinked at that, as he had a sudden epiphany. “Is that why you argue with Durance so much?” He furrowed his brows and made a face. “You know, aside from the obvious reasons.”

She smiled a little. “It’s part of it, yes. He isn't entirely wrong about the Aedyran view of Magran, though. I've been with the Magranites only a few months, but they were indeed a bit... strict. A lot more disciplined than I've seen in the Dyrwood. That's partly why I left again. That and the fact that they called every bad thing happening to anyone a test. Just like he does.” She sighed, looking like all energy had left her. A testament to how much the last few days had really taken out of her. Usually she would have started fuming with righteous anger and gone into a long speech about unnecessary violence at even the mention of Durance's practices.

“When I returned to the temple, I was... disappointed. And scared. That they'd send me back there and make me stick with a decision I regretted.” Her next words were laced with a strange melancholy Edér couldn't exactly pinpoint. “I still had a lot to learn back then.”

“Of course they didn't make me go back. I got my old bed back and was asked to take up my old duties, meaning chores mostly and the occasional messenger job. After a few weeks I decided to seek apprenticeship at the Galawain temple. I was accepted, but again, I didn't stay long.” She laughed a bit and tilted her head back to look at the ceiling. Or maybe just not at him. “They were... a tad bit obsessed for my tastes. The hunt this, the hunt that... You'd think the priests of the changeling god would welcome a change in perspective every once in a while. But no, if you can't shoot it while waxing poetically about the importance of strength it isn't interesting for them. So, I left once again. Even more afraid of returning than before. But, again, I was welcomed back with open arms.”

A fond smile found it's way onto her face and Edér couldn't help but return it. He knew the feeling of nervous anticipation and following forgiveness well enough. Oh, how often had he returned home bashful after a prank gone wrong, yet his parents had always made sure he knew he was loved after they’d given him an earful. But her smile soon faded again and the fatigue was back.

“After that, I just wanted away. I felt like a burden. And so, when a giftbearer stopped by the temple on the way to one of their settlements by the coast, I decided to join her. The idea of sacrificing my memories and burdens seemed appealing at the time. I took my still packed bag and left with her in the morning. It was quite a way and all the while I watched her do her duty. I tried to ignore it, to finally stick with my decision, but my doubts grew every day. It wasn't just the bad memories she wanted to take from people, but also the good ones. The last things they had of loved ones. ...The memories of the bad things they had done.” She lowered her head and pressed the bracelet of her prayer beads to her forehead.

“I wanted to forget, but in the end I couldn't go through with it. When we reached the abbey, I thanked her for her teachings and turned around. But I couldn't quite go back either, so I spent days just wandering the coast. That was the first time I was ever really alone. Looking back, staying away from everyone and everything at that time was probably not the smartest decision I ever made. I started obsessing over the idea that I wasn't enough. That what I was trying to do wasn’t enough. That I had to do something more extreme. So, once I got myself properly I worked up, I went and found the nearest Rymrgand temple.”

“Wait, there's a Rymrgand temple in Aedyr? I’m not an expert, but isn't Rymrgand worshipped in the White that Wends?” Focusing in on the neutral information was much better for now. He would have time to have a small mental breakdown over these revelations later.

She furrowed her eyebrows and crossed her arms with a piece of her usual fervour. “You’re not wrong, but for some reason Rymrgand is like Skaen in that way, if you just look hard enough you can find him anywhere. And that's the thing, I don't understand why! As much as despise Durance's way of thinking, as silly as I think Galawain's hunting shtick is, as harmful as I believe Ondra's suppression tactic is, I understand their believes. I get what they expect from their actions. With Rymrgand there's just no point! The whole faith is based on the inevitability of the all-encompassing end and the virtue of patience and Rymrgand doesn't do jack shit anyway! So they're all wasting their time praying to a god who has no intention of listening or acting either way!” She huffed loudly and threw her hands into the air before settling down again.

Thankful for the return of her fire, Edér decided to keep her going for a bit if helped her emotional state. “But faith is supposed to be selfless. Only praying to a god because you want something is against, well I think pretty much every religion. Except maybe for Skaen, that guy's just weird...”

She took the bait for a religious discussion he was not at all prepared for and started gesticulating wildly, launching into a passionate speech as she always did when someone dared question her faith. “The point isn't how you live your faith, it's why you take it up in the first place. What you work and pray for. What you hope to accomplish with your god’s help. Technically that's different for everyone, but there are constants. All the gods stand for something and for that we rally under their banners. The Ondrites wish for oblivion for the world from it's pain, the Magranites seek to purify and sift out the ones they deem unworthy, the followers of Skaen avenge their own suffering. We Eothasians, we want to bring hope to people and help them find their redemption if they need it. We all want to help, no matter how misguided some are. But Rymrgand doesn't actually do anything! All he stands for is the unescapable death of everything and fair enough if you're looking forward to it, but Rymrgand teaches that everything ends in due time, so you're not even allowed to do anything about it! Rymrgand's faith literally stalls itself. All you can do is sit, pray and die over and over until the end which comes whether you do that or not! And they are entirely aware of that! The high priest of the temple told me immediately after I stumbled in, and he seemed so proud of it too!”

Edér didn't think she'd taken a single breath throughout the speech. With her head almost as red as Durance's she looked much more like her usual righteous self. He hoped that it would be enough to not let her drown in her past again, but thought it better to get it over and done with now, instead of letting it fester another 15 years. Perhaps he wasn't as smart as Aloth or Kana, but nobody could say he hadn't learnt from his own mistakes.

“So, what’d you do then?” The redness receded again, but the energy stayed. She was still more solemn than suited her, but he could see her determination to finish the story and maybe, finally put the past behind her.

“Well for one, I left immediately after the high priest finished his grand introductory speech without so much as a goodbye,” she said and frowned. “Not one of my proudest moments, I admit, but at that point I was so disillusioned and broken, that I couldn't have dealt with more bullshit, without throwing myself off the next cliff. I trudged back home after that. I don't remember much of the journey, but I know that I stumbled back into the convent in the middle of the night and almost hammered Ydona's door in.” She smiled softly staring into the air behind him, with a warmth Edér knew was reserved for very few people. He could claim with no small amount of pride to be one of them, though he was starting to suspect, that her smile for Aloth was still on another level. A matter to meddle with later. And he’d definitely have to, Aloth was more likely to become an animancer than admit his feelings to anyone about anything and the Watcher respected his personal bubble too much to do it herself. Iselmyr would be a helpful accomplice in that endeavour. But later.

For now he had to ask: “Ydona?”

The smile didn't fade, but her eyes focused on him again. “The subprioress of the Abbey of the Dawnstars, where I grew up. She manages the Sanctuary and is for all intents and purposes my mother. She has the patience of a saint and with all the kids she has to keep under control, she needs it too.” She paused and frowned a little. “Actually, with the saints we had recently, maybe that's not the best analogy.” Edér couldn't help but snort at that. “Yeah, I don't know if ‘patient’ is the word I'd use for Waidwen.”

She chuckled before continuing again. “Well, Ydona always had more patience for us than we... than I ever deserved. And I needed it that night more than maybe ever. I must have looked like a Cean Gwla after days of travel, little food and less sleep. When she saw me, she shooed me inside, made me some hot soup and then stuffed me into bed. I spent the whole night and following day alternating between sobbing into her chest and sleeping like the dead. I assume she had someone take over her duties when I was asleep, because she stayed with me the whole time. It took me another night to finally calm down, and then I told her everything. Everything that had piled up over the years. And she just listened.”

She paused and her smile widened suddenly. “A bit like you right now, actually.”

He just smiled back. No words were necessary here.

“Anyway, after I was done crying my soul out, she asked me what I wanted to do now. Truthfully, I had no idea,” she said with a slightly distant tone, like the idea of not knowing one's path was a foreign concept, that needed to be contemplated. Edér was more than a little jealous of that.

“So, I spent the next weeks following her around like a lost puppy. I helped her with her duties and was, essentially, her secretary. Those were some of the most peaceful weeks of my life,” she said with a contented smile. “After a while a letter from the Abydon temple arrived. Ydona had me read it to her. It took me a while to realize, that that was probably no coincidence. Especially considering how suspiciously descriptive the letter was.” She chuckled.

“It made me think, as it was probably meant to, and after giving it some thought, I asked to join Abydon’s clergy. And coincidentally Ydona had something to do at local temple anyway, so she escorted me there. It was only a day’s journey, but I appreciated it. There, master Waylon welcomed us and I was initiated as an apprentice. I spent the next five years in that temple.”

“Was it like the little one they have in the White March now?”, Edér couldn’t help but ask. Abydon was the only other god besides Eothas he’d ever been interested in. Not enough to actually seek him out, especially since he would’ve had to go down to Defiance Bay for that, but the honest simplicity of a hard day’s work had appealed to him nonetheless.

She thought about it and then nodded. “Essentially, yes. Just a lot bigger, with more people. That makes it both more crowded and yet more personal at the same time. Not everyone there is a priest candidate, the majority are normal students. They call the temple the Crucible, because it’s not only used as a temple, but also a place of learning for many different crafts, though blacksmithing is certainly the most popular one. The actual apprentices of Abydon are taught separately, so we got a bit more attention than the average student. I liked it quite a lot actually, master Waylon was a good teacher and a personal friend of Ydona, so he knew of my problems and made sure I acclimated well. It was exhausting, but satisfying. It was the first time in my life I was actually happy.”

“Since you’re wearing Eothas’ colours and not Abydon’s, I’m sensing a ‘but’,” he quipped and leant forward to put his elbow on his knee and placed his chin onto his palm.

She smirked and mirrored his posture. “How well you know me, oh wise man!” They laughed together and she leant back again, reclining onto her hands. “You are of course right. I was happy and maybe I could’ve been content there in time, but I was still missing something. Abydon just wasn’t my calling, though I didn’t quite know what was. I thought about it long and hard, if I learnt anything in my time there, it was patience and persistence. The conclusion I reached was incredibly simple. I wanted to give back what was given to me. I wanted... want to help people find redemption and hope, like I’ve been helped. No matter how many tries it took me and no matter how often I failed, I always had a home and family to return to and I was forgiven, even if I didn’t always realize it. The priesthood of Eothas is my calling.” She smiled at the statue so brightly, Edér was almost convinced Eothas would come back to life through her willpower alone.

“When I understood that, I went to Waylon to tell him about my plan to leave. He didn’t seem particularly surprised, now that I think about it,” she trailed off a bit, frowning, but quickly continued again. “He accepted my decision and made me an offer. If I stayed another half year, I would be allowed to take the final exam with the blacksmithing students and earn myself the proof of a finished apprenticeship. That way I could return home with an achievement this time. And since I saw no reason to hurry, now that I’d finally found my way, I accepted.” She looked at him with a mischievous smile, as if she was about to share some incredible joke. “My final work-piece was a hammer.”

Edér snorted. “Well, I hope it was better than the one you made in the White Forge, or that proof is a pity-proof,” he teased good-naturedly.

The Watcher gasped in mock outrage. “How dare you, my hammer was perfect! Obviously, since the Eyeless actually came.” That remark killed the light atmosphere with the memory of the recent horrors and they sat in an awkward silence for a few seconds.

She cleared her throat and launched back into the story and Edér was glad he didn’t have to face this particular issue quite yet, though he certainly would later, when he’d had time to let it all sink in properly. “Anyway, I passed the exam and then made my way home. I hadn’t told Ydona of my plans and apparently Waylon hadn’t either, because she was visibly surprised when I arrived. I held the same speech for her as I had at every temple before, requesting apprenticeship. She didn’t even let me finish and just hugged me. She gave me a set of initiate robes, that fit suspiciously well, and I was officially moved into the apprentices’ quarters. Meaning of course I could actually take my old bed back.” She was clearly trying to make up for her earlier remark with those jokes, but as forced as they were, they still did their job and the air got a bit lighter again.

Her eyes suddenly became glassy and her face took on a serene look. For a second Edér thought she’d gone into a watcher’s trance, but then she continued speaking. “That night was the first time I ever prayed and actually meant it, with all my heart, and it was the first time He ever spoke to me. Do you know what He told me?” She turned to face him and he saw not the flaming priestess, not the suffering Watcher, but just a young woman filled with calm, undying devotion.

He stayed mute and just blinked at her dumbly. Her smile grew wider and somehow even softer. “He said: ‘Welcome home.’” She faced the statue again and Edér was certain the candles on the altar shone brighter. The light gleamed and flickered, throwing shadows on the statue’s face. It seemed alive in that moment.

“I want to tell Him the same, when He returns,” she said, still looking up to the stone face above them. It was a statement of absolute certainty, lacking any sense of doubt that it would happen and for the first time in fifteen years, Edér felt like he could share it.

The spell broke as suddenly as it had come and the moment was over. The light was as dim as before, the statue just stone and the Watcher a normal mortal like him, who knew the future no better than anyone else. Edér found himself staring at her, unsure if what had happened had been real, or the product of the last few, very stressful days finally catching up to him. He was so engrossed in his thoughts, that it startled him when she continued.

“He didn’t speak to me often, of course. I was ordained only two years before the Great Silence started, and before that I was just one acolyte of many. But He always answered me when I needed Him most. That’s why I was so confused when He stopped, all of us were. Though it took us a bit to even notice. News of... the Godhammer took a few days to reach us, so most, myself included, blamed themselves at first. In the beginning I wasn’t too shocked. After all He didn’t always answer and we’d heard rumours of Readceras, though not much, so maybe He was just busy. When the silence persisted, I thought maybe I’d displeased Him somehow and spent quite some time meditating on what I’d done. When I found nothing, I went to Ydona and confessed my issues to her, she admitted the same problems and we became suspicious. Slowly the other priests and acolytes came forward and then the news reached us. It was... a turbulent time.” She sighed deeply but gifted Eothas’ stone incarnation one last loving smile, before turning to Edér again.

She frowned a little and asked: “What were we talking about again? I’m afraid I’ve gone on a bit of a tangent.” He shifted around a little. Now that his focus wasn’t completely occupied, he noticed how cold and sore his butt had gotten. “I think we started off with you explaining how you were an Ondra acolyte once. Seemed like you had to get something off your chest though, so don’t worry about it.” He sent her a lopsided grin, while trying in vain to get some feeling in his lower half back.

“Ah yes, I remember. Well, now you know my full life story I guess. I suppose it’s only fair, with how much you’ve told me about yourself,” she said, looking tired, but also relieved. “Thank you for listening to my rambling. I think, I just needed to spell everything out for myself. Get it out into the open.” A pang of guilt shot through him at her words. He himself hadn’t managed to muster the courage for that yet. He’d come close with her, but his deepest doubts were still tightly locked away. He pushed the feeling out of the way; dwelling on it now wouldn’t help anybody. Maybe they’d find something on that battlefield and the problem would solve itself. Hopefully. And besides, right now his curiosity outweighed any sense of shame.

“You know, I always wondered how they thought about Waidwen elsewhere. When they crowned him, a few of our priests went to Readceras, but with the war starting soon after, there wasn’t really much time for an opinion to form. You know, aside from ‘fuck this guy’.” As soon as the words had left his mouth, he regretted them. She’d already relived a lot of painful memories today, not to mention the shit that’d gone down just in the last few days; poking at the wounds even more for the sake of his curiosity, was hardly sensible.

Thankfully the Watcher didn’t seem to mind his intrusiveness. Her face took on a thoughtful look and she gnawed on her lip, considering her answer. “Well... that’s a bit of a loaded question. The thing is, most of us, at least at my temple, didn’t even know about him, until Readceras was lost. The rebellion itself only lasted a few days from when it really started, so when we heard about him, the borders were already tight. The Fercönyng forbade every contact with the colony, or not colony, under threat of permanent exile. I know of some who left anyway, but most were... hesitant. Eothas never mentioned anything before. Even afterwards, He never answered any questions regarding the situation in Readceras, in neither direction. That left us rather confused on what to do. A lot of debating was going on, especially when the war started, but before anyone could decide on anything, it was already over again. Since the Great Silence started then, we had little choice, but to assume Waidwen was telling the truth, but there’s still a lot of debate over what exactly happened then and what Eothas’ purpose was. So, the only universal opinion on him in the clergy is ‘Huh?’.” She gave him a helpless shrug. “Although I believe the Fercönyng would probably agree with your assessment,” she chuckled after a short moment.

Edér laughed with her. Mostly because he didn’t know what else to do. Her reply had given him a lot to think about, for example that apparently Eothas hadn’t told anyone of His intentions, not even if He had any intentions at all.

Once they’d grown quiet again, Edér moved to get up, joints cracking. “Well, thanks for the answer, it’s... something. But this old man needs to take a walk now or my bones are gonna get stuck in that position.” He groaned and stretched his arms out, cringing at the sound. He really wasn’t twenty anymore.

“I’m pretty sure I’m sure I’m older than you,” she told him with a smirk and a raised eyebrow.

He rolled his eyes at her. “Yeah yeah, keep showing off, elf!” He was sorely tempted to pull on her pointy ear, but ultimately decided against it. With how tired he was, he probably wouldn’t have been able to avoid her retaliation.

At the door he turned his head to her again. “I’m gonna come by before I turn in for the night, alright?”

She nodded, moving to her knees again. “That’s fine. I’ll just finish here and then we can go back.” He highly doubted she’d be going so much as being carried again, with how her shoulders had started dragging and her excessive blinking, like her eyes didn’t want to stay open anymore, but he let her pretend.

With one last look back, Edér left out the door and stepped into the night. And immediately regretted not bringing a coat once again. He shivered once and the goldpact knight on night watch around the corner glanced at him with clear judgement for his bad choice in clothing.

Edér ignored him and started his round around the courtyard, the fresh grass crunching under his boots. While he’d been in the chapel, Belafa had risen further and the sky was bright with stars. Edér couldn’t help but stare. The night sky had always been beautiful, but with the Watcher’s words at the back of his mind he could look up for the first time in fifteen years and hope. Nothing had really changed and yet something had finally broken loose. Maybe it was silly, but seeing her complete and utter trust in not only Eothas, but also His return, had restored some of his own trust, if not in Eothas, then in her, and that was enough for now.

He walked past the double doors of the keep and to the training grounds. At this hour they were empty, but some poor sod had forgotten his sword. Edér picked it up and started swinging lightly at one of the practice dummies. The repetitive movement was almost meditative and gave him the opportunity to process the story he’d just heard and loosen his muscles. As shocking as it’d had been at first, he found it made more sense than expected. Her rather impressive knowledge about and at times seemingly personal grudge against the Magranites. Her steadfast defence of Abydon, even in the face of another god. And of course, the hammer. He was in no way an expert in blacksmithing, but even he’d been able to tell, it was a perfectly functional hammer. He’d been impressed at the time, but hadn’t given it much thought.

After a few minutes Edér let the sword sink and leant it against the wall for it’s owner to find it again. Walking along the keep’s outer wall, he made his way towards the forum. From there he turned around and slowly started making his way back. The wind was starting to pick up, making the night even colder and his fingers were adamantly reminding him that he wasn’t a pale elf.

Back at the chapel Edér carefully cracked the door open and peeked inside. This time his suspicions were proven correct. Soft breathing could be heard from inside and when his eyes had grown accustomed to the darker light, he could see the Watcher slumped over the statue’s pedestal, a cleaning rag still in her hand.

Making sure his steps were as soft as possible on the stone floor, Edér entered the church. With an exasperated smile he gently pulled the rag from her fingers and placed it on the altar next to the candles. The priest technically in charge would take care of it in the morning. When he moved to pick her up, she didn’t stir and just continued snoring quietly. The strain of the last few days, months truly, had finally caught up to her.

Once he had the Watcher safely tucked into his arms, Edér allowed himself a pause to just feel her breathe and remind himself that she’d done the impossible and survived the collapse of Cayron’s scar. When she’d broken through the ice shaking and hacking, they’d all nearly broken down with joy, but with the following events there’d been no time to really let her miraculous survival sink in. Now seeing her calm face in the dim light of the candles with nothing else pressing on him, Edér could finally feel himself relax.

Leaving her behind down there had been one of the most difficult things he’d ever done, but he’d known that arguing would’ve been useless. The look she’d worn then, he’d seen it once before, on Woden’s face when he’d left for the war. Edér hadn’t been able to stop him either. So instead of wasting time, he’d made a promise to himself. He’d honour her sacrifice and continue her legacy, and that started with getting himself and the rest of their team safely out. He’d basically had to drag Aloth by the scruff of his neck.

Her survival changed nothing about his promise. Edér already knew, he’d follow her to the ends of Eora if he had to. In these last few months, he’d felt more at home than since before the war. He hadn’t expected much, when he’d joined her in Gilded Vale, after all, what could you expect from a lunatic running around Gilded Vale completely covered in Eothas symbols and staring at corpses. But since then he’d grown attached to the lunatic. He’d failed his brother, one way or another; he wouldn’t fail his honorary sister, even if he wasn’t certain yet what success would look like.

When his arms started getting heavy, Edér noticed how long he’d been staring and shook his head. Obviously he was as exhausted as everyone else. Time to get both of them to bed. He pushed the door open with his shoulder and carefully manoeuvred them through without hitting her head on the frame. With sure steps heading back towards Brighthollow he found it in himself to thank Eothas. Whatever had happened, whatever was still going to happen, hope had found him at last.

#Pillars of Eternity #The Watcher #Edér #watcher wednesday #fanfiction #writing #talking #childhood memories #friendship #backstory #sibling love #religion #because the pantheon of this game is pretty cool #guilt #Caed Nua #bad sleeping habits

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