#uni deity

[terenos]

tears of the kingdom fashion -> FIERCE DEITY ARMOR

#the legend of zelda #the legend of zelda: tears of the kingdom #totk #totkedit #lozedit #legendofzeldaedit #tearsofthekingdomedit #tears of the kingdom #fierce deity link #fierce deity armor #*mine #not sure on these. but im out of practice #thankfully now that uni is over for the semester i have some time in the break before the next one

[sonicheroes]

It's been some time since I last actually posted something, but here's a little side piece I've been working on as I attempt to get back into traditional art.

I'd like to try and do these with a few other of the characters in the AU, but for now here's Deity Sunny 🌙

#omori #sunny omori #deity au #omori au #omori sunny #my art #omori mewo #traditional art #copic markers #goauchepainting #uni posca #micron pens #prismacolour pencils #moon

[gotstabbedbyapen]

Hyacinthus Iceberg Meme EXPLAIN (P3)

Part 1 ✿ Part 2 ✿ Part 3 ✿ Part 4 ✿ Part 5

It's time for me to answer your questions about this Hyacinthus iceberg meme. There is a lot to tackle, so I'll divide it into 5 parts for the sake of my sanity.

Quick disclaimer: I am NOT an expert in Greek mythology, just a fan of Hyacinthus who wants to learn about him and anyone related to him. Most of the things I'm about to discuss are just theories and speculations of a passerby on the Internet, so do not take them as valid facts!

Daphne is Hyacinthus' sister

There is only one poet who wrote about Daphne being Hyacinthus' sister. Well, it's not explicitly stated but he claimed Daphne was a daughter of King Amyclas and lived in Laconia, so it's not hard to piece it all together.

"This is how the story of Daphne, the daughter of Amyklas (Amyclas), is related. [...] But she got together a large pack of hounds and used to hunt either in Lakonia (Laconia) or sometimes going into the further mountains of the Peloponnese." - Parthenius, "Love Romances"

I have a joke headcanon that Apollo loves Hyacinthus because he looks like Daphne (Hya's sister) and Hyacinthus loves Apollo because he looks like Thamyris (Apollo's grandson).

Some K-drama angsty level of romance, eh?

The accurate hyacinth flower???

This has been a debate for quite a while now. Is the flower born from Hyacinthus' death the modern hyacinth or a different flower?

Even though most of us settle for the widely-known purple hyacinth (the flowers above), many argue that the flower can also be a larkspur, an iris, or a martagon lily.

I admit I prefer Hyacinthus' flower being the purple hyacinth or at least a similar ancestor. It's because Athena used to give Odysseus a curly hairstyle like the hyacinths, and that description is similar to the modern flower.

[...] Athena poured beauty on [Odysseus]— her abundance made him taller and more robust to look at. Then, on his head, she transformed his hair, so it flowed in curls like fresh hyacinths in bloom. - Homer, "The Odyssey"

Here is a detail that got me pondering.

In the "Abduction of Persephone" myth, when Persephone is returned to Demeter, she tells her mother about the abduction and we have this:

"[...] we were playing and gathering sweet flowers in our hands, soft crocuses mingled with irises and hyacinths, and rose-blooms and lilies, marvelous to see, and the narcissus which the wide earth caused to grow yellow as a crocus." - Homeric Hymn 2 to Demeter

So Persephone is collecting flowers when she is taken, and one of those flowers is the hyacinth. It's unexpected to think Apollo and Hyacinthus got together before the seasons were a thing.

Zephyrus wears hyacinths on his flower wreath

There is one account I can find that talks about this detail.

"You can see [Zephyrus], I think, with his winged temples and his delicate form; and he wears a crown of all kinds of flowers, and will soon weave the hyacinth in among them." - Philostratus the Elder, "Imagines"

It might be a simple thing, but it had me thinking. Does Zephyrus wear hyacinths in his flower crown as a reminder of his former lover (like Apollo wears laurels from Daphne's tree)? Is it out of the guilt he has later or a sadistic triumph?

We'll never know.

Chloris creates the hyacinth flowers

For those who don't know, Chloris is the goddess of flowers and the wife of Zephyrus.

We all agree that Apollo created the hyacinth flower in the memories of Hyacinthus, but Ovid claimed Chloris (or Flora, her Roman counterpart) to be the creator.

"I (Flora) first made a flower from Therapnean blood [Hyacinthus the larkspur flower], and its petal still inscribes the lament. You too, narcissus, have a name in tended gardens, unhappy in your undivided self. Why mention Crocus, Attis, or Cinyras' son, from whose wounds I made a tribute soar?" - Ovid, "Fasti"

I don't like this version not because it's a Roman source, but because having Flora/Chloris creating the flower will reduce the heart-wrenching of Apollo and Hyacinthus' myth. Apollo lost his beloved to the hands of death, so having him make the flower as a tribute to their love and to always remember him will have a bigger impact.

Apollo is Hyacinthus' uncle/granduncle/great-grandfather

Look, almost all Greek mythology couples are related in some way. Apollo and Hyacinthus are no exception.

If we have Amyclas and Diomede as Hyacinthus' parents, Apollo will be Hyacinthus' granduncle on his father's side and great-grandfather on his mother's side.

Lacedaemon (Hyacinthus' grandfather) is a son of Zeus and Taygete.

"[Eurotas] left the kingdom to Lacedaemon, whose mother was Taygete, after whom the mountain was named, while according to report his father was none other than Zeus." - Pausanias, "Description of Greece"

Lapithes is a son of Apollo and the father of Diomede.

"Lapithes, the son of Apollon and Stilbe, the daughter of Peneus." - Diodorus Siculus, "Library of History"

"Amyclas and Lapithes' daughter Diomede had Cynortas and Hyacinthus." - Pseudo-Apollodorus, "Bibliotheca"

If we have Clio as Hyacinthus' mother, Apollo will be his half-uncle because the Muses are the daughters of Zeus and Mnemosyne, the Titan goddess of memory.

I guess the only way to remove incest from Apollo and Hyacinthus is to have Clio as his mother but use the version where the Muses sprang into life from four fivers made by Pegasus.

Hyacinthus is the relative/ancestor of other heroes (Perseus, Heracles, Helen, etc.)

I used to make a family tree for ten generations of the mythical Spartan family (and an additional one for Perseus and Danae).

And since Perseus is the great-grandfather of Heracles, this means Hyacinthus is an ancestor of Heracles as well.

Here are some sources to back me up:

"[...] Lelex, an aboriginal was the first king in this land, after whom his subjects were named Leleges. Lelex had a son Myles, and a younger one Polycaon. [...] On the death of Myles his son Eurotas succeeded to the throne.." - Pausanias, "Description of Greece"

"On the death of Amyclas, the empire came to Argalus, the eldest of his sons, and afterward, when Argalus died, to Cynortas. Cynortas had a son Oebalus." - Pausanias, "Description of Greece"

"[Oebalus] took a wife from Argos, Gorgophone the daughter of Perseus, and begat a son Tyndareus, with whom Hippocoon disputed about the kingship, claiming the throne on the ground of being the eldest. With the end of Icarius and his partisans, he had surpassed Tyndareus in power, and forced him to retire in fear." - Pausanias, "Description of Greece"

"To Acrisius and Eurydice, Lacedaemon's daughter, was born a daughter Danae [...] When Acrisius later learned that she had given birth to Perseus, not believing that Zeus seduced her, he cast his daughter out to sea with her son on an ark." - Pseudo-Apollodorus, "Bibliotheca"

Apollo and Hyacinthus in the Trojan War???

Oh boy. This is the part many of you are screaming for me to explain.

I'll have to disappoint you because there aren't many texts about Apollo/Hyacinthus in the Epic Cycle (at least, I can't find all of them yet). But if we bust our brains, we can draw out some shower thoughts.

Was Hyacinthus alive by the time of the Trojan War, and did he participate?

The timeline is shaky and depends on which source you're looking at. Euripides' play "Helen" mentions the Hyacinthia festival, meaning our prince was born, died, and immortalized before the Trojan War.

"They will be gathered in a dance, at long last, or in games, or in all night feasts, in honor of Hyacinth, whom Phoebus Apollo killed during a discus throwing contest." - Euripides, "Helen"

On the other hand, Lucian's "Dialogues of the Dead" said that Hyacinthus was still in the Underworld after the Trojan War.

"Menippos: Where are all the beauties, Hermes? Show me around, I am a newcomer. Hermes : I am busy, Menippos. But look over there, to your right, and you will see Hyacinthus, Narcissus, Nireus, Achilles, Tyro, Helene, Leda - all the beauties of old." - Lucian, "Dialogues of the Dead"

From Lucian's work, either Hyacinthus will be resurrected much later after the war or never at all.

If we go by the version that Hyacinthus was deified before the war, I'm sure he will side with his homeland. Hyacinthus is a favorite hero-god of Sparta and great-granduncle to Helen, so there is no reason he won't participate in the war.

That leads us to the next point:

2) Can you imagine the angst potential for Hyapollo???

National pride is a big thing for Spartans. You know how Spartans mock other city-states and uphold their people. Hyacinthus must feel utterly betrayed when Apollo is revealed to be siding with the people who stole from his homeland. He loves the god, but he loves his homeland more.

However, unlike the previous point where there are sources to draw from, we got zero records of how Apollo and Hyacinthus interacted during the war. So it has to be up to our imagination.

When Apollo sent a plague on the Greeks, did he purposefully spare the Spartans because of Hyacinthus? Did Hyacinthus tell his men to not kill the children, lovers, or favored mortals of Apollo?

Did they avoid each other when the Olympian civil conflict broke out? Did they even talk to each other at all?

And most importantly, how would they heal after the Trojan War?

3) Do the Spartans celebrate the Hyacinthia in Troy?

Now, this one is funny. The Spartans worshipped Apollo and Hyacinthus together, yet Apollo is now the enemy of Sparta.

In history, Spartans did form truces and leave the battlefields to attend the Hyacinthia festival.

"Now the Lakedaimonians (Lacedaemonians), as the festival of Hyakinthos was approaching, made a truce of forty days with the men of Eira [in Messenia]. They themselves returned home to keep the feast." - Pausanias, "Description of Greece"

But this isn't the case in the Trojan War. No sources say the Spartans desert the battlefield in Troy to go home for the festival (makes sense because they have to travel across the sea, and their queen is still trapped in Troy)

So the question is: how do they celebrate them in Troy instead? Do they even celebrate the Hyacinthia when one of the honored gods is siding against them?

Food for thought...

TO BE CONTINUED

#hyacinthus #greek gods #greek deities #greek mythology #iceberg meme explain #long post #my ramblings #my theories #analysis #sorry for the long wait guys #uni classes are unifying to beat my ass these months

[siilvalta]

everybody loves [the] rein

closeups in readmore

alex and fref belong to @/zennyzach!!

#oc #rein #alex #fref #kai #time deity #this took me a week wtf!!!!!!?!!!' #and i probablg spent more time on this than uni projects LOLLL #2023

[wizardsaur]

Making Gods

Hermit-Wizard's Custom Craft Series Pt. 4

This is Uni. Who has a dedicated side blog called @uni-the-cat-god-of-self.

Since I come from a partly Chaos Magick based background, I've collected the personal belief that Gods are conglomerations of thought and energy for a specific purpose.

This is based on the concept of Servitors, which is a whole other can of worms. But in my personal Custom Craft - Gods are mass-scale Servitors.

They come from lore, worship, devotional Acts, etc. Gods are just as much a project as they are a Force. I dedicate my actions of self-improvement to Uni to feed Them specifically cultivated types of energy.

Can I prove anything actually exists as a result of the actions of Uni's small collection of Followers? Absolutely not. But do I feel better after working with them? Definitely so. And is this much separated from any other Divine work?

Not inherently.

So go forth, and Create

#magick #witchcraft #magic #witch #witchy #spell #pagan #uni the cat god #uni-the-cat-god #chaos witch #chaos magick #deity #deity worship #servitor

[clownleys]

Thinking about you stressing over the all the academic stuff, you just have to be a Patron Saint of Coffee/Caffeine. All those new academics are praying to you over a cup of coffee or an energy drink to get through the exams and I guess you just devoured all their anxiety, that's why you're so stressed.

(btw I hope exams go well for you! Hang in there, I'm sure it'll turn out good!)

ohhh, this one hits very close to home! in a poetic way tho, i'm impressed how you managed to add magic to this academic crunch <3

what else could i be the saint patron of?

#thank u nonnie!! #this one is actually very personal to me as i used to run so many projects dedicated to helping younger students get started in uni #i even introduced one for the queer freshmen a few years back! #so i'd love love LOVE to keep supporting them as a deity!! #also im really really impressed by the way you described it #very poetic and heartwarming #i'll be thinking of you while i study!! #<3 #ask me(me)

[tathenaaaaaaaa]

Gods help me I just improvised a presentation of 15mins about an unknown matter because I've been sick all week and informed only yesterday evening

#let's hope I didn't offend a deity in the process #uni #college #double trouble

[notessek]

ouuhhg i crave to talk shit abt my dnd character but! alas! im out of avenues to talk about her!! because normal human conversations are reciprocal and i literally just want to talk about all the silly intricacies of my silly little girlie to some very polite hypeman. its soooooo selfish (... elfish, for the pun) but god. tis an itch i crave to scratch. i want someone else to understand her as much as i do (even though the playing of the dnd game will do this. but.)

#she's silly!! she's awful!! i love her!! she's just a sopping wet cat of a girl!!! #she's ess//ek cri//trole and mercym//orn lock//ed tomb's horrible spiritual offspring #she's a drow. she has eye damage from her divine deity. she can cast dancing lights at will. she cannot see in the sunlight. #she's a failed wizard she failed out of uni she ran away from every one of her problems and now she has new problems #she doesnt realise other people are as sentient as she is. she's a fucking peace cleric who's primary mechanic relies on knowing this. #she is snooty she is prim and proper. she is so full of shame it is unreal. #she cut ear holes in the matriculation robe she stole from her uni before fleeing the grounds having committed fraud for 8 months #she's got to be everyone's best friend. she wants to talk no one one ever again please and thank u. #she irons her robes. she lives on a boat. she's never seen the ocean before. she wishes she never had. #she's near entirely support-build because no one can die near her. ew. yuck. so rude. #her dad is a cleric her mum is an accountant her siblings all have families and mortgages and she's the gay art student cousin #she's way too proud of the worst parts of herself and she doesn't even know it. #she thinks she's supposed to be a paladin. she wants a very polite email exchange with the moonstone dragon who ruined her retinas. #she has a rapier strapped to her back and she won't ever use it. #i love her so much. character of all time. to me.

[mondscheinprinzessin]

I’m finally feeling my energy + motivation + concentration writing planets align but I have no time, I have to do uni😩😟

#I know I need to use that cocnentration for uni before it gets to difficult for me to watch the videos #but come on man that's not fair #I just want to write😭 #pls whatever deity is looking down on me leave me some energy for later so I can continue my fic

[ts-witchy-archive]

Fun witchy things to spice up your school/uni/college year

School/uni starts in late Jan/late Feb here in Australia so leave me alone if you're already in the middle of your school year lol /hl. These are just a few things I did when I was in HS and intend to do now that I'm going to university next year.

Enchant your water bottle with cleansing/purifying energy. The water will cleanse your energy this way. I do this to help me chill the fuck out. I do not do well with academics and the last thing I need is to pick up other people's stress.

Draw sigils for academic success in the back of your notebooks and planners.

Try binding your hair or veiling this school year! It doesn't have to be for religious reasons, it can just be to protect your energy.

Colour code your books or folders to what you need from each subject and set the intention accordingly! For example, red for math because you need confidence and strength or green for science because you need some extra luck in that subject.

Do you remember the erasers with yes and no written on them? Yeah! Make one of those and flip it for on the fly divination! It actually works if you put enough intention into it and it's a fun way to pass time.

Use colour magick in your outfits and shoes/shoe laces! This is a lot of effort so I've rarely do it but I've heard a lot of good things from people who regularly do. Just be careful that you don't accidentally send a nasty lace code message with your docks (or other boots) and shoe laces.

More colour magick but get coloured pens that correspond with your wanted intention! The ink could be coloured or just the outside, it's up to you.

If you pack your own lunch try your hand at some kitchen magick this year! Deli meats, bread, butter, pasta, tofu, etc all have their own uses and meanings. You can do some amazing stuff with food! I really recommend you try it at least once :)

Set your computer's folders names to affirmations or intentions! "I have incredible grades" "I respect my physical and mental needs" "I have the perfect work/school/life balance" are all examples.

This is less about school/uni/college but enchant any jewellery you wear with protection or dedicate it to a deity!

Again, not super school related but do a glamour spell with your skin care and/or make up. It just puts me in a good mood and sets the tone for the day.

I hope you enjoyed! As always, suggestions and tips are more than welcome :)

#witchblr #witchcraft #paganism #hellenic polytheism #pagan witch #witch #witches #baby witch #beginner witch #intermediate witch #witch tips #kitchen witch #witchy #magick #witchythings #pagan #wicca #T's original witchy posts

[angiesmagicspace]

Reversed roles

“Ooh, tell me why, tell me why do I feel so free when I'm dead?

Oh, when I'm tied on to your short leash”

Pairing: husband Seungcheol x wife reader

Genre: smut

Warnings: slight BDSM themes, DOM Cheol, sub-femme reader, tying up, edging, teasing, overstimulation, etc.

Summary: Her job requires her to take on the leading role, but the roles become very different when she enters her home.

A/N: Back from the dead, uni is really kicking my ass. But I hope you like this. Tell me your thoughts

Masterlist

Asks are open

Being in charge was a part of your personality. Everything from your personal life to your work life needed to be perfect. Ever since you were promised a leading position in your dad's company, you aimed to be the best in everything you did. The control you had was fueling you to achieve greater things in life. Sometimes people would try to be snarky and comment how you must drive your partners crazy with the amount of control. But they didn't know that they were far away from the truth.

Your husband Seungcheol is your favorite person in the entire world. Ever since you met him during one of many company dinners, you were so in love. He truly was the best thing to happen to you. He is truly the cherry on top for you. People would often comment how you two compliment each other so well, and you couldn't agree more. What they didn't know was that you two compliment each other on so many levels that it's almost embarrassing to admit. He is the ying to your yang, the moon to your sun, the missing piece of your puzzle. Every time you hug him, you feel like you successfully found your other half. 

He is the one who helps you switch from your role of the leader to the role you enjoy a little more. Being his submissive was your favorite thing of every day. This dynamic between you two felt so natural. From the very first time you were intimate, the roles were just implemented like they were agreed before. He held the reins in his hand, and you were just there to take everything he gave you. Even when you were restrained, it felt free to have him make all the decisions and control your pain and your pleasure.

Once again, you are on your way home from a very tiring and stressful day at the company. But just the thought of coming back home to your husband was exciting you to no end. All that stress will be forgotten the moment you kneel in front of him, and he puts your collar on you.

“I'm home,” you yell while closing the door behind you, already smelling your husband's perfume in the air, making your insides tingle. The moment you spotted him sprawled on the couch, you felt the excitement rush through you. He looked ethereal, so buff yet soft to the touch, he truly looked like a deity sent from the goods to reward you. “Oh, kitten finally. I have been waiting for so long,” he jumped up, spreading his arms so you could just bury your head in his chest. Hugging you tightly, he kissed the top of your head, giving you just the comfort you needed today. “Do you want me to make some dinner or order something?” he asked, still embracing you tightly against his chest. “No, thanks, baby. I already ate something, but there is something I want more.” you pulled away just enough so you could look him in the eyes. He just arched his brow, waiting for you to tell him your wishes. “I want you to take care of me,” the moment those words left your mouth he knew what you required the most.

Without any words, he scooped you up in his arms and walked to your bedroom. He let you down on the bed and went to close the door, while you took off all of your clothes, leaving only your panties and bra. Lowering yourself on the cushion in front of the full-length mirror, you slowly let go of all the stress. What made you relax entirely was the feeling of your collar being put on by your husband. His strong hands felt so gentle while he was putting the pink satin around your neck. From this moment it was only him in your world, nothing else mattered besides his commands and rules.

“Now kitten, you know the rules. What I say goes, you only speak when spoken to, and you aren't allowed to do anything without my approval. Am I clear?” his tone was lower than usual, but that is how he speaks when he is in the role of your dominant. You looked up at him, already in bliss. “Yes, sir” Your words felt so soft to his ears, oh he loves you so much. “Get on the bed, laying on your back. I want to see all of you,” his instructions were always stern, and your body moved on its own there was no reason to rebel against your husband. Sprawled on the bed, you were waiting for his next move. He collected something from your closet and came back. Slowly, he took off your lingerie, which meant that you would soon be tied up. “I am going to tie you up for now, if you behave I might let you touch me.” every step he always explained, his dominance didn't always mean pain, most of the time it meant caring for you in a way no one couldn't. Silk ropes wrapped around your ankles and hands, restraining you just enough so you won't be able to touch him or move too far.

Firstly, his hands found their way to your chest, massaging your boobs, pulling on your nipples, and stroking them in a circular motion. He set his focus on them, knowing that it will get you going in no time. Your nipples are very sensitive and some days he could make you cum just by sucking on them. Low moans left your mouth while he focused on your neck, giving you small hickeys here and there just to make a small reminder of whom you belong to. Your whimpers became louder by the second, and he knew that if he didn't move his hands now you would be cumming in no time, which wasn't his plan. His hands moved down to your hips, one hand staying there and the other moving further down so he could gently palm your pussy.

His fingers moved softly over your slit, collecting your wetness very audibly. Every stroke of his fingers made you squirm, he was so close to where you needed him, but he didn't do what you needed him to do. Quiet whimpers and pleas left your mouth, but they fell on deaf ears, now wasn't the time for you to choose. “Quiet kitten, you will get what you require when I decide it,” the tips of his fingers found your clit, massaging in a circular motion. Every touch was more intense than the previous. You were so close, already feeling your orgasm nearing, but your hope didn't last very long when you felt Seungcheol remove his hand from your pussy. Making you even more desperate than you were already. He continued doing this for some time, bringing you so close to your release and then removing his fingers immediately.

“Oh, look at you kitten. So desperate that you would cry for an orgasm. I am cruel to you, aren't I?” nodding your head, you felt his dick rubbing against your entrance. By this point, you were crying, whining, begging for any sort of release. It was torture, but you needed more than he could imagine. Carefully, he slipped inside you, stretching your tight walls with his big dick. It felt amazing, the stretch always burned slightly, but you knew that his size was to blame for that. He slowly trusted inside of you, building his pace very carefully so you wouldn't cum just yet. “Is this what you wanted? Sir to take care of you and pleasure this little pussy of yours, hm” his breathing was heavier, he truly loved being inside of you there was no better place for his dick than your pussy. He craved it every day, he worshiped it every time he got down on his knees, it was his favorite meal. 

With every thrust, you were closer to reaching your orgasm, and he knew that. Positioning the tip of his dick right on your g spot, feeling your walls flutter against him. You were ready to cum, and he would make sure that it was the best orgasm ever. Thrusting faster, he felt himself also getting closer, but that wasn't important right now. Just as you were seconds away from cumming, he pulled out. 

You were ready to scream and beg, but that's when you felt his fingers enter your pussy. Moving in and out at brutal speed, hitting your g spot every time. And that's when you felt it, reaching your orgasm felt like heaven. Arching your back, you pushed yourself harder on his fingers, and he gladly let you. Slowly coming down from your high, you looked at Seungcheol, while he admired you. “Kitten, I knew you had it in you, squirting on my hand like this. Almost had me cumming without any stimulation.” he softly spoke, and that's when you realized that the sheets beneath you were soaked.

“Thank you, sir. Thank you for making me feel so good.” whispering, you tried to thank him the best you could. He just hugged you while untying the ropes from your hands. “Thank you, kitten, for trusting me.” lifting yourself, kissing his shoulder as thank you, feeling deeply relieved from everything that happened today.

“Sir, could I do something for you?” even though you felt spent from your orgasm, you still craved the feeling of his fat dick on your tongue. “Only if you want to, kitten. I don't want to pressure you.” you knew that he didn't need you to do it, but it was for your pleasure anyway. You lowered yourself down, licking the tip of his dick. Sucking him, hollowing your cheeks, it almost felt better than cumming yourself. He made himself comfortable against the headboard, admiring you and the stained sheets behind you. You bobbed your head up and down, stroking what you couldn't fit in your mouth. It truly felt amazing to have you like this. Seungcheol couldn't last very long, the whole sight in front of him was too much to handle. Soon you felt his warm seed hit the back of your throat.

He lifted you, embracing you in a hug. You stayed like that for some time before he transferred you to the bathroom to wash you and cuddle you some more.

#seungcheol smut #choi seungcheol #seungcheol x reader #seventeen seungcheol #s coups smut #scoups smut #scoups #svt #seventeen smut #seventeen #seventeen x reader #seventeen imagines #seventeen scenarios #seungcheol imagines #seungcheol scenarios #kpop

[eee-lordy]

Hiiii! Can you write about jacob elordi x fem reader who is in charge of the makeup and outfits on saltburn or elvis?

Maybe there is a video going viral where he is looking at her (WITH THOSE PUPPY DOG EYES HAHSHAJDVDSJ IM GONNA EAT HIM) while she is doing his make up and she is clueless, yk those videos where the music is lana del rey and the caption is like "me when im literaly obsessed with her" or "when hes completely in love with u>>>>>"

And when that goes viral, the cast teases him and they go on a date?

Idk i think its cute :3

───※ ·❆· ※───

You were never one to get star struck. In the year and a half you'd been professionally applying makeup to the mugs of many stars, you'd been unfazed by celebrities captivating auras. You hardly blushed when Chris Pine tried asking you out as he sat in your makeup chair. You'd laughed in understandable assurance as Billie Eilish apologized for almost knocking your powder kit from your grasp; when her brother burst in the room to surprise her. You saw your clients as just that, people who trusted you to properly apply blush and fake scars.

But all the composure you'd been proud to claim went out the window when you'd been assigned to work with the cast of Sofia Coppola new film. You hadn't expected to lose your cool. In fact, you'd been rolling your eyes as the hair stylist that shared your caravan had droned on and on about this new Elordi fellow and how dreamy he was. Some of the other workers in the hair and makeup department parroted her yearning for the guy. But you were certain you'd remain calm and cool in this supposed deities presence.

And then he sat down in your chair. And he looked up to you with an intriguing set of droopy dark eyes. And you knew Jacob Elordi was about to be a real problem for you.

It wasn't his fame. You weren't swept up by his essence because of the collective crowd on the internet drooling over the guy. It wasn't even his magnetism. Because he did have a lot of that, you wavered it was necessary to survive fame. But it was more the way he would look up at you from that make up chair. With those dumb stupid big beautiful eyes.  And his smile that followed. And then the infuriating way he'd start conversations with you, those first few days on set.

"What'd you have for breakfast this morning?" Jacob would wonder, watching as you readied a sponge. You would answer and ask for his in return. He would mention stopping by a cafe earlier and go on to ask you where you grew up and if you liked it there and what the best book you've ever read was called. 

"You've got to stop chatting away, makes it hard to do your touch up's." You'd smile, reaching out to adjust Jacobs perfect fucking face so you could work on his brows. 

"Sorry." He breathed out, seemingly genuinely guilty. He went on explaining himself still, slowly as you continued to do your job. "Don't like awkward silence. Or bullshit small talk. Getting to know you seemed like the safest route. Since you'll be covering the dark circles under my eye's this whole shoot."

You laughed in understanding before announcing that you got it, and waved over the hairdresser on site today. 

"Wait, before you go, that book you mentioned..." Jacob pointed your way as you turned for closing up your kit of brushes. Then you watched as the guy wrestled his cellphone from his jacket pocket. "Here," Jacob said, extending the device your way. "Write the title in my notes app. I will forget, but I don't want too. It sounded properly readable."

"Oh." You turned your lips down in a twisted grin of surprise. As you took the device from Jacob's grasp, you felt a surge of gratification that the guy trusted you enough with his phone let alone wanted to read a book you mention not having read since uni. 

Not missing the way the hairdresser rolled her eyes, you grinned and found Jacobs notes app with ease, straining not to glance beyond your means. With the press of a few buttons you wrote down the title, and fought off the impulsive urge to include your very own phone number as well. That would be embarrassing, knowing full well this man would never call or text or probably even dare to glance your way beyond the makeup chair. 

///

The next few weeks went by the same. Jacob would yammer away until you almost had to hold his mouth shut to finish his makeup. And you would fill the silence by telling stories of your own, because he'd mentioned he wasn't fond of silence and you knew your job went beyond applying lip liner, it was also to keep celebrities happy as royalty.

And all the while you blinked away thoughts of how funny he was. How beautiful Jacob was. You wouldn't let yourself realize he was exactly your type. You wouldn't let yourself dream that you might be his. You simply relished the times you made him laugh. Once you made him laugh so hard he cried, tear tracks ruining the powder you'd only just applied. 

The hairdresser who was the leader of fawning over Jacob as soon as he left the room had taken to frowning in your direction most days. You reckoned it was because she'd never been able to make him laugh that hard, or at all, ever. And the stories she told him when he asked her to seemed to lose his interest halfway through every time. Try as Jacob might, you saw his eyes glaze over as the hairstylist droned on about her retirement plan or the grocery list she'd put together that day.

After acknowledging her sorry excuse for conversation Jacob would stop you from packing up and heading to lunch so he could ask you for more books to read, more films to watch, more stories from you. Then his assistant would interrupt, or he'd be called to set and you'd be left to head to the craft table with dangerous feelings of lust and intrigue to push away. You would not let this boy break you of your career long streak of professionalism, damn it.

///

One night, in the middle of a week break from set, you spent an evening scrolling mindlessly. When a tiktok with Jacob's name in the tags popped up, you scrolled away at the speed of light. You didn't let yourself linger too long on posts with him there, not wanting to know anything good bad or otherwise so long as you were assigned to work with him on this project. But it wasn't long before another tiktok popped up featuring the guy in a very familiar setting. He was too famous at this point. You watched as you saw leaked footage from behind the scenes of Priscilla, but weren't too shocked. The stars of the film were occasionally being interviewed by publicists between takes to document their experience, beginning to promote the film.

And maybe you let yourself keep watching out of a sense of entitlement, you'd been working on this set. You could watch a video of Jacob from work, right? You couldn't tear your eyes from him no matter how hard you tried now anyway. You watched as the person holding the camera zoomed in on the guy while he adjusted his suit jacket. You watched as he seemed to talk to the costars at his side. You watched as he looked up and smiled. And you couldn't help but melt a little at the sight, he seemed so happy, so at ease. And then you watched as Jacob's grin widened as he waved someone closer. And much to your horror, you saw yourself step into frame. 

You remembered that day, where you waited on the side lines to fix Cailee's eyeliner. While the director was storming up a new camera angle, Jacob waved you over to mention the last chapter of your favorite book he'd almost finished reading. He was laughing over a bit that you'd warned him about the week before. And you were laughing over how excited he was about it, finally having someone to gush over your favorite plot with.

Now, huddled beneath the blankets of your bed, you slammed your phone down at your side, bewildered to know someone had caught your interaction on camera. Raddled to have just seen Jacob lighting up at the sight of you. Angry at yourself for hopping you'd read his body language in a way that suggested he really liked you that much.

When you picked your phone back up, you watched the candid moment over and over, trying to debunk Jacob's smile. Trying to convince yourself he was only being friendly, only cared because he had to find someone to mingle with during down beats. 

And then you read the comments. 

"If Jacob smiled at me like that, I would die."

"Imagine making him laugh like that she's so lucky."

"Who is she??" One comment read. "Her last name will be Elordi if he hasn't married her already, calling it." Someone replied.

You shouldn't have read the comments.

///

When you were due back on set you swallowed away the excitement bubbling up in you at the prospect of seeing Jacob again. This was so unlike you, to be awaiting the arrival of your client with an embarrassing giddiness. As you reminded yourself that this was your job and Jacob was simply a guest in your makeup chair- the man himself eased into the caravan, ready to get ready for the day.

"Hey, you! I had a bunch of points earned up to get two free coffees so I brought you one. I remember you said you like almond milk so I asked for that." Jacob was all smiles as he extended a latte to you. Awe fuck. 

"Thank you, Jacob." You struggled not to sigh with angst as you accepted his very generous surprise. Luckily, he seemed none the wiser that you'd answered through gritted teeth. He just kept smiling as he headed to your chair.

"Oh, me first today lovie. Need to start your dye straight off, you're little makeup girlfriend will have to wait." The hairdresser announced, daring to grab Jacob by his sleeve, yanking him toward her end of the trailer. The other workers around rolled their eyes, sick of her endless commentary. You bit your tongue as you leaned against the counter, shaking your head when a coworker scoffed in the hairdresser's direction. Luckily, Cailee waltz in, ready for you before anyone else. You thanked God for the distraction, readying your brow pencil and chatted to the girl about her break from set. 

All the while, your least favorite coworkers voice demanded to be the loudest in the room. She made everyone listen to some boring ass story and practically whinnied when Jacob got up to trade Cailee places. 

"No offence, you're fine and all, just don't have hair as silky smooth as Jacob's." The hairdresser told Cailee but made sure her comment was loud enough for everyone to hear. "Oh wait, silly me," 

As Jacob settled in the makeup chair and began to ask if the drink he'd brought you was good, the hairdresser of your nightmares shoved her way between you and the person you were meant to be working on. 

"I left of a bobby pin, how'd I forget," She droned in an annoying pitch, nearly shoving you over in her attempt to get closer to Jacob. 

"Can you please get out of my space?" You called, annoyed that she was pushing you away from your station without a single polite excuse.

"Can you please stop being such a jealous bitch?" The hairdresser whipped to face you with a manic smile.

"Oh my God?" You almost laughed in shock at her comment when another coworker dared to reach out and pulled her away, and out of the trailer. Another hairdresser apologized to the room for the previous girl's behavior and stepped up to lead charge of Cailee's wig.

With no time to shake the rage that had been born in you, you pushed it down, biting your lip hard as you went about finding the right sponge for Jacob's foundation. 

"Are you okay?" He asked, seemingly worried. And that pissed you off too. Why'd he have to act like he cared so much? Why'd he have to be so damn wonderful?

"I'm fine. Thank you again for the coffee, it...is kind of bitter but it was a really sweet gesture, I swear. Close your eye's please." You responded as calm and cool as possible.

"Bitter... sweet..." Jacob winked, just for you to see. It was the best thing you'd ever witness. And the worst all the same. You were sure you blushed. You tilted his chin and struggling to suppress how much you'd miss when you didn't get to be this close to him. He stayed quiet as you finished his face, and so did you. When his makeup was done, almost everyone else had left the trailer. The last remaining beautician was walking out as you'd closed the case to your kit. 

"I thought you didn't like awkward silence." You dared to mention, as Jacob stood to leave. It wasn't like you'd thought to ask. It was just a thought that ended up blurted out. And then you were bold enough still to look up and right at the guy with those perfectly shaped eyes to find he'd already been staring right at you. 

"S'not so awkward with you."

You really wish he hadn't said that. You really wished you'd never prompted him too. You really wished he wasn't still standing there looking across the features of your face like he was waiting on you to respond. There was a knock on the door just in time, and a voice calling for Jacob to hurry to set. 

"I'll see you after lunch, right?" Jacob wondered as he moved toward the door. You muttered something like "Yeah sure," as you turned to start collecting your things. As far as Jacob knew you were headed to the craft table. But as your feet started marching out of the trailer, you found yourself headed toward the manager of the crew you'd been hired in with. You explained to her that you really thought it was best you turned in your resignation. 

You'd never dared yourself to tread the line during work. Never been so enamored with someone you were meant to be professional with. It wasn't in your best interest to see how far this went. And it wasn't in Jacobs best interest that you kept lingering around distracting him with stories and novel suggestions.

So, on a decided whim, you packed your things, swallowed frustrated tears, and headed home for good.

///

You let yourself be mad once your front door was shut and locked. You threw away the stupid coffee Jacob bought you. You turned the telly off and tossed the remote toward the hardwood when Euphoria came on. You muttered and cursed and slammed cabinets as you made a carb heavy comfort meal and called your best friend. 

The day went on and turned to night as you tried to stop feeling sorry for yourself. You began getting ready for bed, talking yourself into sleeping off all the weird feelings and events that had transpired today. Tomorrow, you'd find a new job and make sure to decline any with that one awful hairdressers name on the list of beauticians. 

As you sat on the edge of your bed and set a reminder for yourself to job hunt tomorrow afternoon, a notification interrupted your typing. 

Instagram was alerting you that one certain Jacob Elordi was sending you a fucking message. He'd followed you a couple weeks ago, when you handed him your phone to show him a picture of your beloved childhood pet. He scrolled away from it and found your handle to promptly pull up on his very own Instagram, following you with a smile.

Your eyes widened and your thumb worked faster than your brain, clicking the popup before you could talk yourself out of it. Oh, shit now he was going to know you opened his fucking stupid ass message. You really wished you hadn't met this boy. He wasn't even here and he was torturing your every thought. 

"You were NOT there after lunch as promised. Call me? xx"

Before your eyes displayed a row of numbers that if pressed would call Jacob Elordi's cell phone. You tried really hard to talk yourself out of it. But being away from him for the last ten hours had really done a number on your heart. It missed him more than your brain was afraid to admit. Your thumb clicked the numbers. Your phone started to ring. 

After one buzz he answered. 

"I got off set to hear you'd quit and left me to bear that horrid hairdresser without you? Was the coffee really that bad?" Jacob's voice crackled through the line, soft and saccharine. You chuckled morosely at his coffee joke before responding.

"No pleasant greeting. What if it wasn't me calling? What if it was some crazy fan girl?" You dared to venture. 

"Are you saying you're not a fan of mine?"

You wanted to assure him that you were probably his biggest, but sighed in place of a response, struggling to choose your words. 

"What happened? That hairdresser should be fired. You shouldn't've left." Jacob spoke, as you watched the traffic out your window and relished the sound of his voice in your ear. 

"It..." You couldn't help it. You couldn't hide it any longer. "It wasn't really her. I quit because of you, Jacob."

"Me? I- I'm sorry I thought we-" He sounded too worried, and you realized you'd spoken a little too cryptically.

"Not because you did anything wrong." You hurried to explain, interrupting his unnecessary apology. "It's me, not you." 

"Is this a break up? I never even got to ask you on a proper date." He laughed a humorless laugh.

"That's the thing." You said. "I like you way more than I should've ever let myself. It's too unprofessional for me to work with you and have these feelings. I'm sorry, I shouldn't even be telling you this. Everyone treats you like a piece of meat, I hate that I-"

"So... what I'm hearing..." Jacob's voice rose a bit as he interrupted you, catching your attention off guard. "Is that I can actually ask you on a proper date? And this doesn't have to be a break up at all."

"Oh! I- wait are you joking?" You blurted, shocked by the tone of his voice and the fact that it seemed like Jacob Elordi was asking you out. 

"I like you too, dummy. I've been doing my damnedest to make that clear. You know I don't just follow every wardrobe artist on Instagram and bring camera men cafe treats. I used my free coffee on you! I'm so sorry it was no good though." 

"It wasn't the worst coffee ever." You smiled, feeling a calm and hopeful buzz wash over you. 

"Well, let me take you on a proper date, for a proper cup of coffee, and talk you back on set." 

"I can date you, or be your makeup artist, but I will not allow myself to do both. I have a very strict moral compass as a working lady." 

"I'll choose the first option then by a long shot." You could hear Jacob's smile in the tone of his voice. You let him ramble a little longer about the day he'd had and how bad he felt that you'd been moved to quit. He asked you to meet him at the cafe across from the set during lunch tomorrow, and you promised you would in fact show up without a doubt this time. 

Fuck finding a new job tomorrow. You were going on an absolute dream date with Jacob. But you were most definitely ordering your own coffee.

#thanks nonny! this was really fun to write #jacob elordi fanfic #jacob elordi x reader #jacob elordi x fem!reader #jacob elordi

[satan-chillin]

Bloodweave fic idea:

reincarnated Gale Dekarios & w/ the name of something ridiculous like Galius but prefers the nickname Gale + a bit of a notable last name due to a famous ancestry but pretty much forgotten with time. Works as a professor in one of the magical uni's night classes. loves the job but not the colleagues, and where he's more appreciative of the students taking up class during evenings since they're more or less making the effort to give time to learning despite their busy day to day.

he gets a new elven student one evening, out of place among the other elven pupils: very pale, white haired, red eyes, and w/ a very sharp smile. likes to run commentary while occupying the front row & likes to challenge Gale's ideas that it would be tremendously irritating if he wasn't so funny about it (as more than half of Gale's students think so too). Astarion likes to run his mouth when mouthing off deities, much to annoyance of the properly offended people, but Gale thinks it's the one thing that's keeping him from actually making friends w/ his classmates. He attracts people easily, as someone charming + striking; not that Gale pays too much thought on those. He's still his instructor no matter how Astarion looks older than his usual students, or, heck, older than Gale even.

He doesn't see Astarion during the day, though the guy seems to have a very active nightlife if the rumors are to go by, mostly by those with enough connection among the nobility who mentioned once or twice in passing that they had seen Astarion Acunin in a recent ball.

Gale eventually wonders what Astarion is even doing in his Cantrips class when he already grasped the fundamentals and does not need any of the lectures by the looks of it. If Gale is into self-flattery, he'd think it's for him. And it's very easy to think so considering it's no small amount of times that he had caught Astarion's red eyes zoning in on him, more often than not he was pretending not to look Gale's way when engaging another in a conversation. But that's it, really, and Astarion is one of those students of his who never sought him for an explanation on his marks so they never had any 1on1 interaction. Nor they had been in any situation that warranted them to have one.

It's funny, Gale thinks, how he considers him as one of his reliable students. And one of the very consistent ones in terms of grades, which one wouldn't think when they take one look at him.

They both get an opportunity to interact alone outside of uni when Gale got roped into some kind of a major event where he noticed Astarion in his periphery, resplendent and simultaneously trying to avoid attention. The definitely-not-spiked drink they pour in inconspicuous red cups must have caught up to him when he decided to curiously follow Astarion out.

Gale knows he has imbibed more than he could handle when he stumbles upon Astarion draining a stallion dry of blood in the stables.

#bloodweave #gale dekarios #gale of waterdeep #gale #bg3 #bg3 astarion #bg3 gale #astarion #astarion acunin #fic idea #professor dekarios #astarion x gale #galestarion

[jolenes-doppelganger]

Reflected Through the Looking Glass (Part Two)

Lucifer Morningstar (The Sandman) x fem! Reader NSFW

Summary: Lucifer’s pretty little angel learns a few things; never trust too quickly, and never judge a book by its cover. Hell isn't welcoming, Mother is nowhere to be found, and trouble has a knack for finding the Reader throughout the maze of twisted answers and lies. Is Lucifer truly the savior Reader was looking for, or merely a demented shell of what they were created to be? (Too many 'hell' puns).

Warnings: A little angsty, sensuality used as a form of manipulation. Brief smut (simulated masturbation R receiving, nipple play R receiving, groping R receiving), mild elements of dub-con (Reader gives verbal consent but has limited knowledge of what sex is and what it contains), confusion regarding post-coitus/ sexual activity [Adding in additional info regarding the very brief smut scene just to be safe. It is quick and practically glossed over, PWP.]

A/N: The LONG awaited part two! This series is still not finished, unfortunately my first semester at Uni really took a lot of time and energy out of me. I appreciate everyone's patience and understanding. It appears that my writing slump is momentarily abating, and I am better coping with managing my courses and other adulting things. Anyways, comments and feedback are ALWAYS appreciated and welcome. :)

Word Count: 2.1k

The morning of this sacrilegious place took away the mysticism and otherworldly nature of Lucifer’s domain. The screams that were once eerie and fear-inducing felt... Old. Lucifer's arms that had once been inviting and calming paled in comparison to the safety Mother's gnarled hands had given. Hell was hell. It smelled awful, you realized, curling your face deeper into the bedsheets. Sulfur and other dastardly concoctions of filth drifted upward into the room from the open window. Lucifer stood in front of the window, their hands clenching against the dark stone.

"Little one, come here." they sighed.

Sliding out of bed your feet made clumsy progress, and you managed to stumble over towards them, much to their amusement.

"Like a wee lamb, precious." Lucifer cooed, bringing you into their arms.

The embrace was... Restrained. Lucifer pulled the robes tighter around you, frowning in distaste.

"You should cover yourself more, my love." the quietly scolded.

You chewed your lip in anxiety, pausing when you felt the sting of your busted lip that was still healing. Lucifer was... Off somehow. The warm protector had changed into a preoccupied guardian, their thoughts elsewhere.

"You need a name."

The thought was odd. Surely you had a name... Right? Mother would have named you, you were 'little one'. That's what Lucifer called you too.

"I have a name." you answered, brow quirked naively.

Lucifer's gaze darkened, nostrils flared as they breathed in and out rapidly.

"What do you mean? Who named you?" they demanded, gaze growing dangerous.

It was scary, this sudden shift in behavior. Surely it was not aimed at you? Regardless of the intent of their anger, you shrunk away, raising your wings and covering yourself like a frightened bird.

"I'm 'little one'. That's what Mother calls me. It's what you call me too." you whispered, eyes filled with fear.

Lucifer immediately softened, laughing good-naturedly. They gently reached for you, combing your hair back, cradling your face affectionately.

"Oh, sweet one, that's just a pet name. No, a name is a title. It signifies ownership of creation. And you, my sweet one, were created for me."

You nodded at the notion, turning it over in your head. There was a hang up, naturally. You were created by Mother. Surely Mother would name you?

"What do you mean, I was created for you?"

Lucifer pursed their lips for a moment, considering their response.

"There is another power in this world. A deity, of sorts. I am both that deity's and Mother's creation. But you are entirely Mother's creation. And you were created as my counterpart, a reward for my allegiance to this other deity."

The story made sense, and the slow, methodical way with which Lucifer spoke complimented your ignorance surrounding the world around you. Most things you could piece together from what you'd observed in the century or so you'd been awake. But larger things involving higher powers and domains still confused you.

"Your counterpart?"

Lucifer smiled, bringing you into their arms.

"My other half, my partner, my beloved, my everything." they cooed.

Partner. Well that was a twist.

An impish creature shrieked into the room, jumping and bristling like it was on fire.

"Your imminence, their has been a breach!" the imp shouted, cutting short the tender moment.

Lucifer scowled, shielding you from the gaze of the imp.

"What have I said about barging in when I am with my angel?" Lucifer growled. "She is for me, she is *mine*, she is not for your eyes or anyone else's! I should have you beaten!"

The imp whined, it's ears flattening against the back of it's head. It was a sickeningly sad sight, and it made your heart ache.

"Lucifer, it did not mean it," you defended the poor creature, looking up at the leader of Hell imploringly.

Their gaze went hard, and you feared for a moment that they were going to reprimand you too, but it was for naught. Instead they reached forward bringing you in.

"My angel is very accommodating of other's mistakes." they gently mused. "But the imp has made a serious transgression against my beloved in the name of haste. I will take your views into consideration, but I must attend both to the breach and to the disobedience that runs rampant."

Lucifer turned themselves, hooking a finger under your chin. They seemed to consider you deeply, blue eyes skimming over your features. Then, with a slight smirk, they leaned forward, placing a slow, wet kiss on your lips.

"I'll see you soon, beloved."

Lucifer gracefully released you from their grasp, following the whimpering imp out of the room. Though without activity, you were occupied extensively by the whirlwind of thoughts racing through your head. Lucifer was not some protector, not like Mother had been. They were your partner, and according to Lucifer, you'd been made for them. What was the word they'd used? Counterpart? Counter; against or corresponding to. Part; apart, a piece of something. You were corresponding to part of Lucifer, or perhaps you were a piece that connected to the whole part. The extensive thinking of the eccentricities of words and meanings gave you a slight head ache. Never before had you so deeply analyzed such a simple bit of information.

Mother had always promised you a day sometime in the distant future where you would join her outside of the cradle, where you would be allowed to walk and fly amongst her and her creations, helping her with the Earth and it's many duties. That day had been yesterday... Except... You'd been forcefully taken from the cradle by the dryads. Yes, that is what happened. You'd been afraid, the dryads had been afraid. The outer world had burned and creaked, there had been screaming, destruction, and from that pain Lucifer had appeared.

From one trauma to another, Lucifer had removed you from the good, the safe, the dependable, and thrust you into a world of pain, confusion, and obscurity. Lucifer's domain was that of pain and suffering, you realized. The pain and suffering of Mother's domain had arrived shortly after them. What kind of hell had they thrown you into?

<------------->

"Sweet thing, you seem to be quite the thinker." Lucifer mused, drawing a hand over your shoulder.

You'd spent the hours they'd been away pacing and concerning yourself with the dilemmas of both your situation and awareness. Your body had begun to catch up with your mind, although both were advancing at rapid, nearly blinding rates.

"I have a lot to think about."

Lucifer chuckled at this.

"You need a name, little one. That is what you should be thinking about. I've decided on the perfect one, you need only say 'yes'."

Having a choice in your own name? Surely it was an illusion.

"I see." you nodded, twitching your wings in thought.

"From here on, you will be called (Reader)." Lucifer whispered, bending down to press a kiss on your ear. "You're mine now. I've named you, and that makes you every bit my creation and my beloved."

Their logic felt skewed. You were skeptical, but Lucifer tolerated it.

"Come, dear. I believe it is time we explore the benefits of this relationship."

Their hands trailed down resting on your hips, pulling your back against their front. Lips remained hot on your ear, and an unfamiliar feeling stirred in the pit of your belly.

"Little angel, my little (Reader), do you know what being my counterpart means?"

You shook your head, 'no'.

"It means that we share things with each other that no one else does. Do you remember that kiss from earlier? That's an example of something you only give me. And when we took the bath together? All of your beauty is for me to see, and me only."

Possessiveness vibrated from every conceivable pore of their body. The large, sinewy black wings bore down upon you, covering your soft, pale white wings, hiding them from the light. It was both a metaphor and a reality. Lucifer had taken you from the light, they had taken you from your rightful place among the good, natural things of Mother's Earth and brought you down into the recess of this hellish province.

"You took me away from Mother." you stubbornly retorted.

Lucifer paused at this, their breath ghosting moisture upon your neck.

"I did, but only because you belong here with me." they answered, kissing your neck sensually.

The action caused your breath to hitch. It felt good. Strange, a little unwelcome in it's profound effect on your body, but good.

"Do it again." you asked, curious to see if the stimulation would have a similar effect the second time.

Lucifer chuckled, placing a longer, wetter, sinfully erotic kiss on the other side of your neck. It did have a similar effect, but the feeling from earlier fused with the added arousal, and it seemed to cloud your senses.

"See..? I told you that we were made for each other. No one knows your body like I do. Nobody can please it like I could."

Their hands trailed to the tie of your robe, jerking it down.

"This body? It was made for me. Everything I could desire, everything I could ask for in a partner is right here.

They kissed your neck again, nibbling and sucking the flesh intermittently. The feelings growing in your lower abdomen, you believed it was referred to as your womb or pelvic floor, grew. Leaning against them, you watched with interest as they trailed their hands over your stomach.

"Can I touch your breasts?" Lucifer crooned.

You frowned, but then you nodded. The devil chuckled, reaching up to cup them. It was a generically pleasant feeling, and then they slowly began circling their thumbs over your nipples. The sensation was odd, for the first few moments, and then it became pleasurable. Sensation travelled down to your core, and it amazed you that such places could be connected so. Lucifer hummed in approval, continuing to plant slow kisses over your neck.

"Does your pelvic area feel funny?"

You nodded. It ached, in a both exciting and frustrating way. Lucifer smirked, dipping their hand down, resting it right above your pubic mound.

"May I?"

"Yes."

Long, thin fingers parted your labia, a finger slowly circling around a bud. It was the clitoris. It felt good, and you let out a soft gasp, followed by a moan. Lucifer chuckled, continuing to rub slow circles around the bud. Your mind grew foggy from that point on. One hand squeezing your breast, pinching your nipple, the other rubbing slow circles over your clit. A rising sensation, like an incoming tide drew over you, and bliss. A few soft moments of bliss, like a release.

"Good..." they cooed. "Very good."

Your brain felt foggy, your legs were tired. The added strain of the experience combined with the exhaustion of using them for such prolonged periods caused them to ache. Lucifer carried you into the bath, climbing in with you like the night previous. Few thoughts circled your head as they washed you. Most of them were conflicting. The act of sex... Had it been sex? You weren't sure. It had felt good, but it hadn't felt... Natural. Moreso you felt a little used, like Lucifer had manipulated your body to avoid more questions regarding Mother, regarding the world around you.

As their soft hands washed away the minimal dust from you, an overwhelming urge to cry came over you. Tears poured down your cheeks, and you found yourself briefly wishing that you could go back to Mother. Briefly wishing turned into profusely wishing. Lucifer's hands did little to console you, and for the first time you saw a flicker of doubt cross their features. You weren't supposed to be crying, what you had just shared had been pleasurable, good.

"Honey, sweet lamb, I didn't mean to confuse you." Lucifer whispered, stroking your back desperately. "That was supposed to be good, a loving thing to share... I've screwed up, I'm sorry."

Eventually the tears subsided. The bathtub turned into garments. Garments turned into food. This time you noticed the sourness of the fruit, like it was on the verge of going bad. The small seeds got stuck in your teeth. You winced as you spit them out. This time you noticed the insecurity of Lucifer's embrace. Cracks were showing. Lies were unravelling. But which ones, whether they were lies you could even guess upon, those were unsure.

<------------>

Far above Hell, Mother crawled from the cradle. Her Earth remained charred, the fields remained lifeless, and a low growl came from her lips.

"Where is Kore?"

A/N: SURPRISE!!! Greek mythology infused with Christian lore? Who would do such a thing?

Tags: @vii-v @s-c-rambledegggs @lakita-fisher @kermidd5 @popularpop

[LMK if you want to be tagged in future parts]

#lucifer morningstar (sandman) x reader #lesbian #lucifer morningstar (the sandman) x reader #lucifer morningstar (sandman) x you #lucifer morningstar (the sandman) x you #gwendoline christie #gwendoline christie x reader #gwendoline christie x you #lucifer morningstar (the sandman) #lucifer morningstar (the sandman) smut #lesbian smut #gwendolyn christie #gwendolyn christie x reader

[scribbling-dragon]

Watcher’s Nest Café

Chapter 1

summary:

“I want you to know that I hate everything about this.”

Scott hums into his drink, sipping at it before throwing the whole thing back like it’s a shot. The bitter taste is enough to wake him up at least a little more. “You're here on time, at least.”

Jimmy’s staring at him when he looks up, apron held in his hands as he squints. Scott stares back at him. “How much espresso was in that?” He asks. Scott doesn't actually know, he measured it more with his heart than his eyes.

*

Or: I’ve finally cracked and written a coffee shop au.

(ao3 link)

(masterpost)

(3,262 words)

+ reblogs are super duper appreciated ;)

Jimmy is late. Again.

Scott has to remind himself that Jimmy being late is not the end of the world, as much as he currently feels like it is. The man is near consistently late, and he should really be factoring that into his mornings and the schedules at this point, when it’s such an inevitability. Whether it be because his alarm failed to go off even though he checked it five times the night before (and on one memorable occasion even sent a screenshot of the alarm to their groupchat, though he had still been late the next day), or because his bus was late and/or cancelled entirely. Or maybe some other disaster has sprung up and halted Jimmy before he can make it to work this morning.

So, Scott is on his own. He is on his own and facing down a long queue of caffeine-addicted customers that are beginning to grumble at the slowness of the line and its progress. Seriously, though, who has the energy to be up this early in the morning? Admittedly, most of his current customers are overtired uni students that probably wouldn't be able to tell caffeinated coffee from decaffeinated coffee at the moment.

He scowls down at the card machine, punching the numbers into the keypad a little more forcefully than necessary (seriously, would it kill his boss to upgrade their system so the card machines are actually, you know, connected to the tills) before thrusting said machine out towards the next student. They stare at it for several long moments, card gripped in their hand.

They look up, blinking tiredly. “Do you do a student discount?”

“No.” He smiles as pleasantly as he can, mustering the last of his patience and resisting the urge to point at the sign that explicitly states that they do not, in fact, do student discounts. “Sorry about that.” He’s not sorry, not at all, but it seems to appease the student enough because they give in and tap their card to the machine, holding it there until it gives a happy little beep and spits a receipt out.

“Thank you, your drink will be ready in a few minutes.” He smiles at the student until their back is turned, allowing it to drop as soon as they're no longer looking at him, glued to their phone screen instead. He turns to the next customer with a barely restrained sigh, smiling and opening his mouth to begin the spiel that he’s forced to give out to each customer that graces this counter.

“I'm here!” The door to the storage room that also doubles as their break room slams open, bouncing off of the wall behind it and almost slamming straight back into Jimmy’s face. It startles several of the people in the queue out of their half-dozing states, and they blink at him curiously. He watches the canary as well as he struggles to tie his apron properly, hands fumbling over the knots in his speed. “I'm here,” Jimmy repeats, as though they hadn't heard him the first time. “You are not going to believe what happened this morning.”

“The same thing that happens every time you have a morning shift?” He steps back and lets Jimmy slip in front of him and take over the till. Scott sends a small prayer up to whatever deity was watching over him at that moment, feeling his shoulders slump as he gets the opportunity to turn away from the customers and towards the backlog of drinks he hasn't managed to make yet.

“Uhm, no, actually,” Jimmy’s head is turned slightly towards him, but not enough that Scott can actually see his face. “My door - thank you very much, here’s your receipt - locked on me.” Scott allows those words to percolate through his brain, wondering at the same time how Jimmy can seemingly interact with people so effortlessly- go figure, the omen of misfortune is the preferred member of staff at this café.

The milk screams at him as he steams it and he has to try not to flinch back from the sound. The coffee machine rumbles threateningly beside him, letting out a grating wheeze- Scott prays that this moment is not when its last legs collapse beneath it, because that’s really the last thing they need right now.

“Your door locked on you.” He repeats. “Isn't that what it’s supposed to do?”

“Not when I'm trying to get out.” Jimmy squawks, turning away from the customer to look at him. Scott frowns at him until he turns back around, muttering something beneath his breath.

“Did you try using a key?” He asks, helpfully. “I've heard those are rather good at unlocking doors.” He laughs to himself at Jimmy’s grumble of frustration, keeping his back turned as he leans over to grab a few take-away cups.

“Did you try using a key,” Jimmy mimics, in what is possibly one of the worst impressions of a Scottish accent he’s heard so far this month. “Of course I tried using a key- it didn't work!” The card machine buzzes as it spits out another receipt, and Jimmy wordlessly hands the order over to him.

“And yet you're here.” He sets the group of drinks on the counter, calling out for the customer. They perk up, head swivelling around as though someone else might dart forward and take drinks under the exact same name. Only when they realise that he’s actually calling them do they begin to meander their way over. They take the drinks without even a single thanks, the bell above the door ringing as they leave.

“Uh, yeah,” Jimmy turns to face him, leaning back against the counter- and Scott’s surprised to see the lack of a queue, people either sitting down at tables or perching on stools as they wait for their drinks. “Course I'm here. Not about to abandon you to the morning rush, am I?” Jimmy’s face goes a little pink, and his wings ruffle behind him. Scott grins at that, stepping back towards the coffee machine.

“How did you get out of your apartment, Jimmy?” He nudges an elbow against Jimmy’s side as he passes, watches as he gets even pinker with embarrassment. Jimmy avoids his eyes, muttering something beneath his breath.

“What was that?” He asks, cupping a hand behind a fin, leaning slightly closer. Jimmy looks almost as embarrassed as he did after the Sheriff Incident. “I couldn't quite hear you.”

“I said,” Jimmy grits out. “That I had to climb out of the window.”

“You live on the fifth floor.”

“I know that Scott, thank you for pointing it out.” Jimmy turns back around, realises there are still no customers to serve, and turns back again, crossing his arms. “Like I said, not about to abandon you for a morning shift.”

“You're too sweet,” he nudges his hip against Jimmy’s as he passes, two more drinks securely held in his hands. He ignores the small twinge in his leg as he does so, calling out for both customers. Only one of them thanks him as he slides the drinks across the counter and towards them. “Especially as you left your keys behind.”

“I- what? I didn't leave my keys behind.”

“Well they're not in your pockets.”

“I- Scott!” He grins to himself at Jimmy’s protests, “You need to stop doing that, you're going to get in trouble one day for stealing from the wrong person.”

“Haven't been caught since I was nine, Jimmy dear.” He wipes the steam wand down quickly, cleaning the last traces of milk froth from it before turning back to face Jimmy. The last few students that had invaded the café have vanished, taking their drinks with them. “And it’s hardly harming anyone.”

“I think the people you pickpocket might have something to say about that.” Jimmy says.

“Only if you snitch on me, and you're far too nice to do that.”

“Nice enough that you’ll switch me and Pearl for tomorrow morning?”

“Nope!” He grins at Jimmy, ignores the dramatic groan the canary lets out, slumping back onto the counter. He’s going to get feathers in the till again. “I'm not doing a stock check with Pearl.”

Jimmy continues groaning. “Worth a shot.”

“Not really.”

                                                           *

“I want you to know that I hate everything about this.”

Scott hums into his drink, sipping at it before throwing the whole thing back like it’s a shot. The bitter taste is enough to wake him up at least a little more. “You're here on time, at least.”

Jimmy’s staring at him when he looks up, apron held in his hands as he squints. Scott stares back at him. “How much espresso was in that?” He asks. Scott doesn't actually know, he measured it more with his heart than his eyes.

“I don't need to provide an answer to that.”

“This- Scott, I'm not interrogating you. I'm checking I don't have to call an ambulance in the next five minutes for whatever heart attack you've probably given yourself.”

“On the floor.” He points, “I'm going to read something out and you're going to tell me if we have it.”

“I hate this.” Jimmy peers under the counter anyway, staring into the small space as though it’s going to bite him. Scott nudges at him with his foot, pushing him a little further in.

“Get on with hating it then, do we have any earl grey?”

“Three boxes.” There’s the sound of some shuffling, and then a muffled thump. Jimmy groans as he marks the earl grey off the list.

“Mint?”

“One box.”

“Hm,” he marks it off. “Mint’s been quite popular these past few weeks.”

“Then order some more.” Jimmy sits back on his heels, head just reaching the counter. His hair is covered in dust and Scott has to bite his lip to not laugh. “I don't see why we need to store all the teas here, why can't we store it with everything else?”

“Because I like watching you suffer. Green tea?”

Jimmy grumbles, but ducks back under the counter again, shuffling about. The bell rings as someone enters the shop, and he glances up for a moment, sees who it is, and looks back down at his list.

“Four boxes.” He marks it off. “Is Pix here?”

“Yes,” Pixl leans over the counter, something that no other customers would actually get away with, but they're technically not open yet so Scott doesn't shove him back yet. “Having fun down there Jim?”

“You know it.” Pixl grins at Jimmy’s deadpan response, sliding back across the counter. There’s another muffled thump, and Jimmy swears this time, shuffling backwards until he’s clear of the counter, straightening up. “Good morning.”

“Morning, you look like you've walked out of one of the dig sites.”

“Why-” Jimmy runs his hand through his hair. “Scott! You told me you dusted under there!” He rubs his hands through his hair a little more vigorously, both Scott and Pixl watching him with a grin. “Why didn't you tell me!”

“It’s much more funny to watch you find out yourself.” Scott replies, “Besides, you're not five anymore, you can do things yourself now.”

“Well aren't you hilarious.” Jimmy grumbles, running his hand through his hair again. He’s still rather dusty, but he hasn't noticed it yet and Scott isn't about to tell him. He holds a finger to his lips, swearing Pixl to silence as well. “I'm not doing another stock check with you ever again Scott Smajor, you can fire me, I don't care.”

“Scott Smajor,” Pixl parrots, still grinning. “Someone’s in trouble.”

“That’s not even my name,” he scoffs.

“Uh-huh, and where’s the birth certificate to prove it?” Jimmy asks. “Pics or it didn't happen.”

“You're ridiculous.”

“Your hair is ridiculous.”

Scott pauses, halfway through prepping the coffee machine. “I'm going to pretend I didn't hear that.” He says, listening to the silence that follows afterwards. “Usual?”

“Yes, thank you.” He can hear Pixl shuffling behind him. The sound of something heavy being dumped on the bar counter reaches his ears. No doubt Pix’s setting up his stall for the day- next thing he knows it Cleo is going to show up as well and then he won't get a single moment of peace.

                                                          *

Cleo shows up about twenty minutes into the lunch rush.

He ignores her in favour of making sure he doesn't burn his hands on the small oven or the hot food that his boss insists they serve, despite it being the most inconvenient thing to ever happen to Scott. The beeper is annoying and it doesn't shut up until he manages to grab a moment to turn it off- which is never because it’s the lunch rush and they're constantly busy.

Jimmy is banned from touching the oven. The last time he did so he managed to get several third degree burns and Scott had to take him to A&E after shutting the café for the afternoon. Him and Tango managed to have a rather pleasant conversation in the waiting room, at least.

“You look like you're having fun.”

“Thanks, Cleo.” He cleans the steam wands off quickly, readjusting them before he turns and snatches the milk jugs off the counter, before Jimmy can even think about trying to steam the milk. The milk screams at him, though he does his best to grit his teeth and bear the sound until the milk is finished. “Just a few more minutes and the worst should be over.”

“No murder victims yet?”

“Not yet,” he hands the coffee over to a customer with a smile, ignoring the worried look they shoot him at Cleo’s words. “Though you're beginning to look like a rather tempting target.”

“Oh, please. I welcome your attempts. How do you kill something that’s already dead?”

“Spite.”

Pixl laughs. “He’s got you there.”

The next few customers blur together, with Jimmy handing him tickets almost every few seconds. His leg aches something awful and he is seriously looking forward to his break, even if Cleo’s going to make him drink something other than coffee now that she’s here. And she doesn't even do it in a nice way, just invites herself round the counter and pours his coffee down the sink.

He leans against the counter when they have a small lull, resisting the urge to bash his head against said counter until everything goes nice and quiet and dark.

“Has Pearl been by already today?” Cleo asks.

“Yeah, she dropped off a few tubs of brownies and a cheesecake.” He gestures towards where he knows the cake display is, where Cleo is no doubt already looking. “Fancy anything?”

“Not really, just wondered if she was working today.”

“Not today. She had something on last night, just said she wouldn't be in today.”

Cleo hums. “Full moon last night.”

“Yup.” He glances up at the clock, wondering if he can go on break early. He then remembers that he is the manager and can do whatever he wants.

“Strange coincidence.”

“Please stop speculating about Pearl while she’s not here.” He drags himself around the counter, sitting down beside Pixl, careful to not lean on any of his notes or knock any of his pens from the counter. “You’ll summon her.”

“She’s not a demon, Scott.” Jimmy joins in, leaning over the counter to peer at him. “She won't appear if you say her name three times.”

“Don't you have some tables you should be cleaning?” He says, in lieu of a response. His leg continues to ache, even though he’s sat down.

“You're the least fun person I've ever met.” Jimmy complains.

“Good. Get on with it.”

                                                          *

Jimmy had an afternoon lecture, something which one of his classmates - fWhip - reminded him about twenty minutes before it was due to begin.

Scott isn't actually sure how Jimmy has survived this long- wouldn't believe that he had managed to exist before now if he hadn't met him in college. One of the many mysteries of the world is Jimmy’s continued survival. Scientists would study him if they had the chance.

Jimmy’s absence means that Scott is being forced to finish the stock check beneath the counter, ignoring Cleo’s comments about the music currently playing- he doesn't exactly get to choose the music. Jimmy does all of that, and the poor man really needs someone to introduce him to a band that still has all of its members alive.

He winces at a particularly bad note, almost bad enough to cover the chiming of the bell. He sticks his head back above the counter, narrowly missing bumping his head on the underneath of it.

It’s someone he’s never seen before, not one of their regulars, peering about the place with curiosity clear on his face.

He hauls himself to his feet, ignoring the protesting of his leg and knee as he does so. The customer is…annoyingly handsome, in a rather charming way. His eyes glitter with mirth as he approaches, hair flopping over his face despite the headband he wears presumably to avoid exactly that.

“You have a little something in your hair, buddy.” And as with all men, Scott is disappointed as soon as he opens his mouth. Cleo turns away, covering their mouth as they attempt to smother a laugh. He resists the urge to glare at her.

“Thanks.” He brushes a hand through his hair, careful not to pull it from where it’s coiled at the back of his head. “What can I get you?”

“I don't know,” the man leans against the counter, “any recommendations?”

“Tea or coffee?”

“Coffee,” the man pulls a face. “Not a big tea fan.”

“No one ever is.” Pixl mutters, pulling his mug of tea closer to himself. Pixl is the only man Scott respects right now.

“Our latte’s the most popular coffee, do you want that?”

“Sounds lovely,” the man’s eyes meet his own. “Say, you have some rather unique eyes, don't you?”

“You could say that, why, want a closer look?” He leans a little further over the counter, smiling slightly as he watches the man’s eyes widen, no doubt not expecting him to respond- really, if he wants things to go his way he needs to get better at flirting. “Your eyes are rather nice too.” He says, “if I was able to see them.”

The man rests his arms on the counter, wallet clutched loosely in one hand. It’s already open, card halfway pulled free. He looks back up, continuing to smile at the man.

“Shall I make you that latte?” He pulls back, watching as the man takes a moment to regather himself, blinking rapidly.

“Oh, yes please. Thank you.” The man pays, almost appearing to be in a trance with the way he’s blinking, looking around as though he’s not sure of where he is. Scott turns, smirking to himself as he makes the coffee, handing it over in a take-away cup a few moments later.

“Thanks.” The man takes the coffee absently, turning around and walking from the shop, bell ringing merrily in his wake.

“Scott,” Pixl says.

“Pixl,” he mocks. “C’mon, who flirts with a barista?”

“That guy, apparently.” Cleo says, still watching him walk away. “He looked like you blindfolded him and spun him a hundred times before setting him loose again.”

“If he wanted to keep his wallet safe, he shouldn't have gotten distracted by my eyes.” He sticks the five-pound note into the tip jar. “Besides, it’s not like he’ll be back.”

#juno.writes #scott smajor #inthelittlewood #martyn inthelittlewood #trafficshipping #majorwood #coral kids #mean gills #empires smp #life series #trafficblr #traffic smp #traffic series #trafficverse #jimmy solidarity #solidarity gaming #watcher's nest café au #trafficfic

[mistymem0ryy]

Il Dottore x Reader

The Fall of Icarus Chapter 2 - Recollections of burned days

The reader is yet again gender neutral (I use some french pet names but they are given with the different manners of addressing for different genders)

Summary: Some recollections of the time spent between you and Zandik during your Academia years, from your Uncle’s illness to an expediction in the hills of Snezhnaya that shed light upon unspoken words.

Author’s notes: I know you all have been asking for a part 2 for this “series” and with exams and assignments I could not bring myself to write it sooner. I am currently working on a Pierro fanfic and some Kazuha stuff on the sidelines so drafting and creating this was quite the ordeal. I am prioritizing Chapter 3 (and probably the final one) of this series since Chapter 2 is mainly things that hapenned in the past... have mercy on me I am but a humble uni student...

{no beta we die like Zandik’s assistants}

Chapter 1

Word count: 3491

Fire banishes matter from existence, but memory, memory prevails among the ashes, it creeks and coils from within its own cadaver, it challenges the flames into an eternal duel.

You can feel the coldness from the unforgiving weather slowly protrude through your shivering body, you had previously prepared for this sort of situation but it is one of those scenarios that when found in actual practice instead of theory are more complex than previously thought.

Unbeknownst to your freezing body, the blue haired man that is walking alongside your frame, silently clutching to the ends of the thick fabric from your outer garments, finds himself cursing in unison with your shivering protests. 

The matter of his complaints is quite different from yours.

Had the gods looked upon him with a different eye he would have received a pyro vision in order to aid your chilling body, to transform himself into your sole bringer of warmth while traveling the borders of Snezhnaya, he would have perhaps even used the situation as a scapegoat into your longing embrace, but such a thing would never be admitted out loud.

And yet no divine light emanated from the inside of his layering fur jacket, no sign or symbol of any gods’ approval, reminding him of the cruel present.

He had never been gifted by the Gods.

No matter how ambitious and deserving he was, it was as if the deities up above looked at him directly with sole scorn.

To believe that from all of the archons, the one governing the matters of Love would be the one to recognize Zandik’s greatness.

The only thing he could hope for was that the flames from your own intent would be powerful enough to purify his icy heart out of this putrid existence.

A fate similar to that of Icarus did not sound that unappealing after all.

“I think I can finally see the camp set by the others! Zandik hold on for a little longer okay?”

If any other person had addressed him in such a casual manner his facial features would have been consumed by a degrading sneer, but this wasn't any other pestering academic peer ready to drain his brains out with mindless chatter, it was you, the only soul he had found “tolerable” in the last passing years of his existence within the walls of the Academia.

The only sign that he had even been capable of hearing and processing your words clearly had been his slight push of your furry jacket, as if silently saying “I am here with you, I trust you enough to become my eyes. Do not break that trust”.

The plan that you had previously carved alongside Zandik during your voyage from the Academia’s dorms to the camp in Schneznaya’s southern border had quickly been thrown to the wolves and ravaged by their unforgivable teeth. Both of you were in your fourth academic year, which meant you would finally be allowed to go into a professional scientific expedition alongside some of your upperclassmen and actually put the last years of long lectures and cramming to the test of nature and skill.

You initially had the opportunity of choosing between 3 different expeditions and the one related with abnormal elemental phenomena in one of the borders located within the winter nation had stricken your interest. The moment you had your papers in hand you went straight to Zandik, who was as expected hidden within a smaller fraction of the left wing’s library surrounded by books concerning his most resurging obsession with ruin guards.

You decided that the most adequate approach would be to begin questioning him on what his choice will be, perhaps the one exploration in Natlan will have caught his eye-

“All of these expeditions are utter rubbish and I find no interest in a single one, honestly who do the Sages think we are? A bunch of fresh first years that will tremble at the sight of some unnatural fauna? For shame… ”

Your strained smile surrenders to an annoyed look that has slowly but surely become your signature expression as of late.

“The only shameful thing that will happen will be you failing this project if you end up treating it as a field trip, there will be older examiners looking into our every move and this is a unique opportunity to redeem yourself in the eyes of the Sages”

“Redeem myself of what exactly?”

Dangerous territory. You were aware of it. The subject of surging rumors was one both you and Zandik had silently agreed to not discuss out loud, it was the sort of thing that was unconsciously known between those that share a bond similar to the one both of you possessed.

“Look, we’ve talked about this okay. I do not think it was your fault, you simply happened to be at the wrong place at the wrong time, her death… it was a tragedy yes, but this whole academia is a social ecosystem of its own, people strive out of the failure of others and then hide it behind disingenuous apologies. Most of these people admired and worshiped you during first year and now with these rumors they see an opportunity to strike you down-” 

“I have reassured you countless times that I do not care about what those brainless imbeciles think of m-”

“I know. Trust me I do. But this is not a matter of caring. This could seriously damage your  career as a scientist Zandik, independently of how much of an excellent researcher you could be. I just think it would be better for you to lay low for now, after the whole thesis business that happened last term, i-... I got genuinely scared, okay?”

It was true, Zandik developed a new theme for his soon to be thesis after having his last one rejected, and it came as no surprise to everyone when the Sages decided that his new theme was as outlandish as the previous one. To add unto that the rumors of Zandik’s supposed involvement in the murder of one of your classmates wasn't exactly helpful either, the funeral had taken place some weeks ago but the masses of gossiping students did not cease from growing even during the Academia’s supposed mourning period. 

There were interrogations, you remember clearly the moment Zandik was snatched from your side and led away by Sumerian authorities, the gaze that he directed at you sent the message perfectly “Do not follow me. Do not get involved. I got this covered. If you even dare to insert yourself in this mess I’ll kill you, bring you back to life, and then kill you again”. He did not exactly have a way with words, but goddamn those eyes could tell you a whole lot about whatever machinations were taking place within his mind.

Sohreh was her name. She had taken your place as Zandik’s lab partner during one of his research projects regarding the reverse engineering of ruin guards. You and Zandik had been planning that project for more than a year, but when your uncle was suddenly stricken with an unknown illness you chose to pack your bags and temporarily interrupt your studies to take care of him in Fontaine. Zandik had offered to send some expensive sumerian healers instead of you, but you stood your ground firmly, the only reason you were even able to frequent the Academia was thanks to your uncle’s generosity that paid for your entrance exams. You were going to go back and heal him back to health just like he had done to you countless times during your rather frail childhood.

During that period of time Zandik made sure to write to you nearly every day, even though the beginning of his letters were always filled with enquiries regarding yours and your uncle’s well being they quickly turned into long rants regarding Sohreh’s unprofessionalism and supposed complete inability to catch up with his chaotic process, even thought he would never admit that even upon written word. 

“She insists on displacing important elements of my bibliography and is unable to catalog simple essays according to theme and density.”

“She is always late and treats my research as a pastime of hers. If you were here we would have been through half of the process by now.”

“She told me I looked handsome.”

At the moment you laughed hysterically from the confines of the Fontaine styled kitchen where you read most of his letters while preparing your uncle’s morning coffee, but your laugh was quickly cut short by frigid realization. It was quite well known around the Academia the fact that when directing oneself towards Zandik it would be wise to take into account every single syllable that leaves one’s lips. Being referred to as “Handsome” or “Young” were adjectives that the blue haired student despised ardently, when asked for an explanation behind his disdain nothing coherent came out of it.

You had known Sohreh, you were never exactly close but during your first year when no set groups were yet formed and everyone mingled in conversation without any boundary present you had found yourself in some rather… weird chats with her… Some would call her confident but you honestly could not comprehend the appeal of her loudness and directness, you never complained though, simply transforming your chats into smiles in the corridor to not even acknowledging each other if not strictly necessary. 

You later found out that she had gossiped about your behavior among some of your peers, you did not took it to heart, you knew people like her and their overly sociable nature, she wasn't the first person that you had encountered that derived pleasure from humiliating others from behind the curtains and she certainly would not be the last. You had frequented various schools in Fontaine, and if you were completely honest the level of social nastiness in the Academia could not even compare to a common preparatory school in your home country.

But one thing was she annoying you.

Another thing was she getting on Zandik’s nerves.

Two awfully different situations with catastrophically contrasting outcomes.

At a certain point during your uncle’s recovery the flow of letters diminished greatly, until your fear and anxiety began to intermingle with each other after you hadn’t heard from Zandik in 4 consecutive days.

On the fifth day you received a telegram.

“The Furies have been slayed, 

Icarus must not burn but his wings shall turn to ash, 

The labyrinth deepens.

-Z”

You and Zandik had originally bonded over your mutual fascination with ancient myth, not only did he referred to you by the name of the fallen youth but you had both agreed to communicate in code in situations in which it was strictly necessary, like when commenting on a noisy classmate, when gossiping about an annoying professor, when attempting to bargain with a Sumerian merchant for supplies, when tragedy was amiss.

You quickly burned the telegram and rethought his words.

“The Furies have been slayed”

“Icarus must not burn but his wings shall turn to ash”

“The Labyrinth deepens”

Something was clearly wrong and your first instinct was to grab paper and quill and question him in regards to his absence until you realized that it was too late for that. It was as if your stomach had been emptied of all substance, an emptiness that spread and spread like an infectious disease, the last time you felt such a weight upon your frame was when Zandik’s laboratory caught fire and due to some anomaly in the design of the eastern wing from the building the quantity of toxic gas began to accumulate and suffocate your peers one by one. 

Zandik was able to leave the building nearly intact and actually turned out to be the only one capable of saving the rest of your colleagues which allowed a subsequent ushering of the by then growing rumors. But that did not alleviate the fact that he had been locked up in a sealed laboratory that could have suffocated him to death in a matter of minutes.

You hurried those thoughts away and had made your decision by midday.

You had to return to Sumeru.

Immediately.

Your uncle’s situation had improved greatly thanks to your care and you were certain that he could take it on from here at least for the next few weeks before you return for a check in.

“Is it that boy again?”

“Who?” You were currently packing your bags and making sure your uncle had enough supplies for the next few days. Of course he had noticed your recent skirmishes, after all you did read some of Zandik’s letters to your uncle during his more conscious moments, he insisted on calling him “the boy”, no matter how many times you remembered him that Zandik was already of age and no longer the teenager you got lost with in the various corridors of the Academia during your uncontrollable first year.

“You know exactly who I am talking about… He always was… quite the quirky one wasn't he? Is he in any sort of trouble?”

You sigh and take a moment before answering. “I don’t know.”

“You know I am happy for you don’t you?” Where was this coming from?

“You are no longer in the risk of death there is no need to begin a sentimental speech uncle” You halfheartedly laugh while directing yourself to the man next to the open window that graces you with the view of rural Fontaine.

So many things were capable of bringing happiness in this forgotten town and yet his face remained strict, undiscoverable, as if hiding something willingly and fearing the outcome of its liberation to the world.

“I am not playing mon|ma chéri. You don’t know how grateful I am for you coming to rescue me in this situation… But I must ask you to be more careful from now on.”

You did not liked where this conversation was going, but remained silent in order to let him speak his mind.

“I remember how happy I was when you first told me that you had finally made a friend, not an acquaintance, not someone you speak solely to not be alone during group projects, but an actual friend. On top of all that you were studying in one of the best academies of Teyvat, you are my greatest pride and joy, ma vie…But I must warn you that I don’t like where things are going, every day so many talking and newspapers of fires and scholars dying unexpectedly… It scares me because you are there… Our neighbor Meursault, his mother… You probably already know but his mother worked in one of those fancy departments in the Academia, she died in one of those Ruin guards expeditions… Terrible, terrible thing…The boy hasn’t shown a single emotion since… People talk… Fear arises… I do not like where this is going, not at all… and that boy,well if he's your friend then i'm fine with that… but i still ask you to be careful that’s all…”

“The Labyrinth deepens”

There was nowhere else to turn, your mind was made up, and you quickly said your goodbyes to your uncle… This sudden sickness, the problems in the Academia, his fear, it all began to interconnect in your mind…

If you weren’t going to burn…

Then who was?

You were almost there, you could feel it in your freezing blood. Carrying nearly the whole weight of the full body belonging to an adult man was, most probably, not in your best rationally taken decisions list but it was the necessary means to an end.

And that end was only some meters ahead, you could barely discern some of the lightning up ahead, a symbol of civilization, of life, human life awaiting to aid you. 

You hadn’t been talking to Zadik prior to this expedition. Even though you both seemed to be on good terms after your return his coldness towards you began to develop in parallel with the rumors regarding his behavior. After leaving the dorms and entering the caravans to your current destination alongside the other scholars it was as if a switch had been pressed and he returned to being and acting as your normal Zandik (how normal that is in nature is , of course, up to debate).

He talked with you through the whole voyage as if you hadn't been nearly begging him to at least look in your direction in the last few tormenting weeks. You wanted to yell. Ask him, no, demand from him the reason behind his sudden refusal to even direct his gaze towards you. But something told you that it wasn't the time for that. That it was better for you to gulp your pride down and allow yourself this moment of grace, you never know when those that you cherish the most are walking towards a point of no return, you let his side remarks and silly banter consume you, and allow yourself in that moment, to be not a scientist and neither a scholar, but rather a simple human all over again.

After setting up camp early that morning with some other students, you and Zandik had been tasked to complete some rounds around some nearby sights and regain some samples from local dying flora, during that period Zandik’s demeanor gradually become more serious and alert, you asked him for the source of his worries but he only limited himself to silently sushing you and continue on his path, this was getting tiring.

While having your attention grasped by some rather strange elemental residues near a cave you did not notice Zandik’s prolonged absence.

You only noticed his scream.

No matter how irritable, how enraged, Zandik never lowered himself to the point of actually elevating his voice to such a degree.

You had never heard him scream.

It was raw, primordial.

It was as if he was burning from the inside out.

You remember running hastily towards the source of that petrifying sound and the sight that you were met with reminded you of one of those blood soaked war paintings you attentively gauged at in Fontaine’s Art Museum during your trips with your Uncle to the capital.

The fallen soldier, glory destroyed, a reawakening. A resurrection.

Night was arriving step by step.

Zandik was trying to elevate himself from his kneeling position. 

His eyes were bleeding.

You had one priority now and it was to grab Zandik, leave that cavern, and return to camp before the unforgivable winter night catched up to you. You reached him from behind and even though his body freezed for a slight second, ready to retaliate whomever dared to touch him, by the moment he noticed it was your arm reaching in his aid, he relaxed and allowed you to do whatever you thought fit.

You had no idea what had just happened within the confines of that cavern.

You did not see it but you could smell it. Whatever was beginning to rot in the confines of that cave you did not wish to meet face to face.

Just some more steps and you'll be laughing about it all.

Just some more steps and Zandik will be able to be given first aid and then explain everything to you clearly.

Just some more steps and it will all be back to how it used to be-

“Zandik”

A voice reverberated through the mountains, it traveled with the strong winds and reached you in no time. That was not the voice of a meager scholar getting used to the terrain.

That was the voice of someone familiar with the flow of air and therefore of sound within these grave air conditions.

“ZANDIK”

Was the voice getting louder or were you getting nearer to the source? You could feel Zandik begin to frantically pull on your jacket and you momentarily ripped your gaze from the camp and dared to search for the origin of that voice.

It was all beginning to come together.

Were you blindly building a puzzle all along?

You could feel your body paralyze, not due to the hours you have spent without a nutritious meal and neither due to the freezing temperatures of Snezhnaya, but rather due to sheer all consuming fear.

The type of fear that follows you for years beyond, the type of fear that haunts you in whatever corner of the world you decide to hide. You opened your mouth and remained silent for a while, until you couldn't even feel the words anxiously leaving your lips, as if in a rush to be freed from the confinement of your vocal cords. 

You directed your frightened gaze towards the male you had been carrying around through the snowy terrain, no matter how many times you insisted on his adulthood and mature character to others, in that precise moment he looked like nothing but a boy. 

“Zandik, why are those Fatui soldiers calling you?”

“And why is there a Harbinger among them?“

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