#and i feel like shes become the poster child for it | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

harmonysanreads · 2 months

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I'm not sure if requests are still open since it's early in the morning where I'm from and idk how our timezones work, please delete this if it isn't orz. If it isn't too much trouble, a dainsleif fic mayhaps 🙏😔? I miss him so much and he didn't come home this patch, can be a short drabble ^^.

Not sure if it's leaning on your "things in consideration" list, but the prompt can be:

You've been under his radar for years but now that he's tracked you down, an unknown child who mirrors his blue Khaenriahn eyes guards you with his small and very fragile life. Those eyes... They're eerily familiar.

(side note: Dain isn't the type who thinks children automatically have a heart of gold lolol. He's kinda a hater when it comes to children cept for Yaoyao /jjjj, maybe that's some extra spice to add for the reason why reader is so terrified and left as soon as she had the opportunity?)

Reconteur

yandere!dainsleif x reader

cw(s) : yandere, implied female reader (the narrative is not gender specific but the word 'mother' has been used once)

wc : 1.7 k

this was an interesting challenge for me because this is one theme i've not done before, with a character i've also never written for! i'm extremely sorry for the wait as i got distracted by hsr :') and thank you so much for requesting<3

a delightful illustration by the loveliest person <3 (spoiler alert!)

Stories are truly spectacular.

They're capable of preserving bygone memories ; changing, adapting and sometimes, becoming far too distant from reality. Like saplings of the tree which extends its roots throughout Teyvat and, their seeds are welcomed by the flighty wind, soon to be cultivated by the torrents of time. The present will one day become history and that history will be archived for posterity to learn and criticize. One such story inspires much intrigue, dressed in charming rhetoric and is thus cataloged among fairy tales : a bittersweet tale of a Knight and an Angel.

And in classic format it goes — once upon a time, a defiled Knight cried out to the heavens, for he could not win against the temptation of seeing the forbidden pearl. This blatant defiance earned him but a curse of eternal agony and soon, he begged the skies for salvation. The clouds softened and sent him a little Angel, who quelled the fires of his pain bit by bit, until it became an infinitesimal dot in the Knight's soul. Brimming with gratitude, the Knight offered his very being to the Angel's service and of course, they lived happily ever after.

Now suppose, fundamentally speaking, if fairy tales are but stories and the retelling of history follows the same pattern — who are the storytellers?

The victors, of course.

The dull thud of pages colliding shut assuages Dainsleif, for the story which now finds itself beside children's bedside tables serves no other purpose than to instigate dulcet fantasies, losing credence before the trials of history. It brews a litany of feelings in his numbed heart until they intertwine and transform into a yarn of befuddling human emotions ; echoing in his ears that this is what his past has become.

Albeit, this hardly astonishes the Bough Keeper. When a war ends and the winners hoist their flags, they'd obviously be privy to recounting their glories — none of them would ever write that the Knight in the story had never begged the heavens for forgiveness and no such Angel was sent. Instead, he'd seen fit to snatch the Messenger that'd implored him to return to his right mind and one would think that Celestia had taken great offense in this act, but no one batted an eye.

That is because the Messenger, too, was forsaken by their home, a fallen angel with no wings and no divinity left. Whose existence became synonymous to that of a firefly and the Knight, became the darkness that allowed it to glow. When two broken individuals unite, they either complete their flaws or destroy one another and sadly, in his case, it was the latter.

But is it such a sin to wish for a normal life? Dainsleif muses as he passes by giggling groups of unassuming humans, desperate vendors trying to sell their wares and many more individuals who might carve their places in the next epics of Teyvat. Often is it said, you only learn to value things after they leave your grasp and while his memory does erode day by day, he'll forever remember that Angel's — your countenance, how the corners of your lips used to curve before they did no longer, how every word of yours bewitched his decaying mind and built it anew.

He was an ant chasing after the fragrance of sugar, a mindless bug blinded by a speck of light, an apophyte clinging desperately to the bough, a sinner. And sinners do not deserve luxuries called normalcy, love or a home. The aftereffects of the Cataclysm that befell his homeland drove uncountable masses to nihility, some embraced their hatred while others rotted in corners of this world. It is testament to Dainsleif's willpower that he'd not been conquered by insanity yet. Indeed, he's always practiced rationale and patience ; which have also aided him in his prolonged search for you.

He investigated till every rock of this wretched world became his acquaintance and he kept on hanging to the last traces of your existence. But, as every expedition led to a dead end, he was forced to accept a lamentable realization, that he missed you. He missed you so much. He'd vowed to never kneel before those who took everything from him, at this point in his life though, he found himself one breath away from begging that floating island — if only it'd bring you back to his side.

Rain. It'd rained before that catastrophic day and on the eve you trespassed in his life as well. Would you laugh if you saw him in this state? Or, would you coax him up from his knees and shield him from the rain? A hoarse chuckle leaves his lips, how shameless does one need to be to still expect comfort from the being they hurt repeatedly? He'd rather not hear the answer.

“Mister?”

The sky growled at his misery but he could not differentiate it from a mocking sneer. He blinked upon feeling the absence of raindrops falling on his person and raised his head to stare.

It is as though the stars gazed at him back, “Why are you kneeling on the ground on a rainy day, mister?”

Dainsleif stared owlishly, his mind momentarily ceased to comprehend the present. The boy that'd reach his knees at most if Dainsleif had been standing returned his gaze in equal interest. Though the man failed to decipher those familiar eyes, it seemed that the boy had reached a conclusion.

“Oh, you must be in pain! Here, take one of my apples.”

The Bough Keeper jolted at the fruit that was shoved to his hand, in the blur of his confusion he'd not taken note of the bag full of apples clutched by the boy's other hand.

“My mother said that an apple a day would keep the pain away—ah, or was it the doctor? Anyway, please take it and don't look so sad. I should really be returning now…!”

Dainsleif opened his mouth (To protest, to question or to thank? He didn't know.) as the boy dashed away, the pitter-patters of the rain lulled his footsteps and left the man a great deal dumbfounded. He looked at the apple, now glistening with rainwater and recalled the boy's words. On normal occasions, he'd be tempted to immediately evacuate the vicinity after that mildly embarrassing encounter but, the memory of the starry gaze that rendered him speechless implored him to follow the boy's tracks.

At this point, his mind was operating on instinct, tracing the footprints of an unknown child without purpose would be the farthest thing he'd put on his agenda in his current state. The dense forest swallowed his form until it finally gifted him with a clearing, a small source of light peeked past a half open window and enticed him closer.

“...re…were…y…?”

The man only came to his senses after hearing muffled voices, standing before what he assumed was the door to the thatched cottage. For a second, he debated whether to continue this rendezvous but resigning that he'd come too far, he decided to take a peek through the window.

The rain lulled just enough to not be an outright nuisance, succinct yet unforgettable — there you were, separated by but a weak wooden structure and Dainsleif's stupefied mind. You are there. Are you really there? Right before his eyes, emerging out of nowhere after he turned Teyvat upside down just to find some reassurance that you're still alive? Your eyes narrowed in that familiar frown and rubbing a towel through a boy's hair—

Wait, what?

Fine strands of blonde clung to Dainsleif's forehead, a few drops of water dripping down to join the small puddle under his feet. He gaped like a fish at the scene and at the boy who led him to this epiphany, completely forgetting vigilance.

“Did you talk to anyone, son?”

Flowers bloomed in his heart at the sound of that familiar lilt and his breath hitched as he processed the contents you uttered. Son. You called that boy son. In the light of your humble abode, he noticed the boy's golden locks of hair that he'd previously foregone and a conclusion crawled its way to his mind. He has a child. He has a child? Dainsleif knew you have a knack for unpredictability but this level of surprise was not what he was expecting upon your first appearance after all these years. He dwelled on the question of how it was even possible for a while, he recalled the boy's eyes ; those characteristic star-shaped pupils would never lie. Voices reached his ear again and he decided to cast aside these questions for a later time.

“I did, but the man looked so sad all alone in the rain! So, I gave him one of the apples because I didn't know what else to do. I promise I didn't talk too much!”

You paused for a while, a cautious query followed, “What did he look like?”

The boy copied your silence this time, finding great interest in your nails before exclaiming, “Pretty ordinary!”

Dainsleif didn't know why but that gave a sting to his heart, he looked back to you to see the unreadable expression on your face slowly shift to a soft smile. You affectionately ruffled the boy—his boy's hair, the action somehow softened the ache in his soul. Until he remembered that he was ignorant of his own son's name. He was one who preferred to form his opinion of everyone from a neutral point of view and while he's not one to excuse children's behavior just because of their age, seeing his own son speak half-truths at this stage raised many more concerns to be dropped in the pile.

You're not someone who'd preach dishonesty to a child but considering the situation you are currently in and the things this child must've seen, he found himself understanding. The skies rumbled and Dainsleif barely pushed back the urge to kick down the door and take his family to where they belonged. But seeing the smile that he'd yearned for so many years, he hesitated. You'd fought hard to earn this little happiness and acting on his impulses now, however justified they might be, would be dishonoring your efforts. And judging by your reactions, he can already sense that you won't just sit idly by for him to pounce on.

So, he'll be patient for bit longer and when the time is right, it'll seem as though his family returned to his arms out of their own volition.

#requests: batch two #answered #beloved-brynn #yandere dainsleif #yandere dainsleif x reader #dainsleif x reader #yandere genshin impact #yandere #yandere genshin impact x reader #yandere genshin x reader #genshin impact x reader #genshin x reader #something in my heart tells me that dain gives off girl-dad vibes #buuuut since you mentioned it #tbh dain is so real for that opinion like.. have you seen children these days 💀

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kkurades · 2 years

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˚୨୧⋆｡˚ ⋆ STAR CHILD aib characters having a s/o who is a kpop idol (headcannons!)

hikari kuina —

( before borderland!)

- she would be your biggest fan and supporter

- she’s definitely coming to all your concerts

- probably would have stalked you online

- listens to your songs when you are busy practicing and she misses you

- would be best friends with all of your group members

- they would all adore her oml

- she’d definitely steal your clothing but you don’t mind

- your fans would also adore her

- you’re her wallpaper and phone case lol

- she’d collect all of your picture cards and switches it online whenever she gets someone else

- she would be so embarrassed when she’d show you her room which was covered in posters with you on them

- likes to watch your interviews whenever she’s bored

- would 100% accompany you to any events and would fit right in

- but if you have to keep it secret you’d tell everyone that she’s your best friend

- she would do your makeup whenever she can

- will kiss your forehead right before your concert for luck

- she’ll teach you how to defend yourself from any perverts

( in borderland!)

- when you entered the beach her jaw dropped

- she was almost drooling at the sight of you

- chishiya would be so confused lol

- she’d nervously approach you after having stared at you for like ten minutes straight

- would blush anytime you’d smile at her

- she felt like she could faint when you sat down next to her at the bar

- kuina would be so annoyed whenever a guy tried to hit on you and had to resist rolling her eyes

- would protect you from anyone 24/7

- knows all your songs by heart

mira kano —

( before borderland! )

- she would listen to you while working on her plans bc your voice soothed her

- after a while she wanted to know whose angelic voice has been helping her for the past few months

- the moment she saw your face pop up on her screen she was in love

- she carefully planned a meeting where she would make you fall for her

- her mission to make you fall in love with her went smoothly

- she’d kiss you lovingly when you came home everyday after practise

- would be so proud and would show it

- she’d hide her sadistic side from you to make sure that you won’t leave her

- does anything you ask for

- makes you food everyday and makes sure that you stay healthy

( in borderland! )

- she would have been so fascinated by you

- she makes sure that she can protect you from the militants while trying not to seem suspicious

- it started with soft smiles and long eye contact but it developed into passionate kisses and loving words

- won’t hesitate to kill someone if they wronged you (not openly but through the games)

- makes sure that you get easy games with a 100% chance of surviving

- loves it when you sing to her

morizono aguni —

( before borderland! )

- would be your own personal bodyguard

- keeps paparazzi away from you

- doesn’t know anyone from the industry but will attentively listen to you when you rant about it

- will come to most of your concerts but don’t expect him to sing along

- he will tap his foot to the beat tho

- hatter will beg him to meet you

- you’d become best friends with hatter and aguni wouldn’t know how to feel about it

- definitely regrets introducing you to hatter bc now he always demands to go to your concerts

- he claims that hatter is a bad influence

- your group members would be so intimidated by him lol

- hates going to events but does it anyway because he wants to keep you safe

- he’ll turn up the radio whenever he hears one of your songs playing

- but will immediately turn it back down when it ends

- your fans would definitely make memes about him lol

- he would roll his eyes anytime someone mentions it

- people would be so confused as to why someone like you would date someone like him

- idk why but i feel like he would be kinda insecure about it but won’t tell a soul

( in borderland! )

- would meet you during a spades game

- thinks you’re attractive but also thinks you’ll die first

- is surprised when he finds out that you have the best condition out of everyone

- sticks to you like a bug because he likes you but won’t say it

- you’d have to start all the conversations

- at first he wouldn’t know what kpop is lol

- so when you tell him you were a kpop idol before the borderland he would be like ‘a what??’

- after you explain he’d be like ‘cool’

- he’ll search the city to find a cd/poster of you

- would be kinda weirded out how there is a whole ass shop with your face everywhere

- will find a picture card of you to carry around in his pocket

- tries to keep your overenthusiastic fans away

- especially the good looking ones

- likes it when you hum one of your songs under your breath while cuddling

- would listen to kpop songs for you and only you

rizuna ann —

( before borderland! )

- would be so annoyed by paparazzi

- she’d make sure you stay healthy and makes sure that you rest enough

- your group members would be kinda intimidated by her but would like her eventually

- she would talk to your manager whenever she sees that you’re uncomfortable in the clothing that you had to wear during a performance

- doesn’t often come to your concerts because she’s a busy woman but would if you ask her to

- finds it amusing when people find out that she’s dating the famous y/n

- she would make sure that you eat enough and will always make you something to eat for during practice

- you would definitely spoil her and she wouldn’t really mind it unless it’s really really really expensive but you won’t budge when she tells you to return it

- she will shamelessly walk around the house in your clothing

( in borderland! )

- wouldn’t know who you are

- probably heard someone talking about you in the hallways

- would be annoyed whenever someone flirts with you

- overprotective but won’t actually act on it??

- you will spend a lot of time around dead bodies if you want some quality time

- won’t let niragi 6 feet near you

- makes sure that you are always safe and checks for injuries after games

- silently hums her favourite song of your group under her breath while she works

ryohei arisu —

( before borderland! )

- hardcore fan

- buys every piece of merch even when you’re dating

- you always having to tell him to stop buying it because you could just give it to him for free

- he won’t listen tho

- will blast your songs in any car

- would be annoyed anytime his brother speaks with you

- karube and chota would straight up laugh in his face when he tells them he’s dating you

- but when he invites you to hang out with them they’d stare at you for at least five minutes

- arisu has to keep chota as far away as possible bc he keeps staring at you and it’s freaking him out

- while he also has to make sure that karube doesn’t flirt with you 24/7 lol

- worried about you because of the amount of hours that you have to train

- loves to see you wearing his clothes

- likes to read all the kpop drama

- would go to all your concerts and events

- but at your events he would feel so awkward

- upset over the fact that you have to keep your relationship on the low

- always makes sure that you eat, sleep and drink enough while he’s dying from dehydration

- he knows the choreography of your dances like the back of his hand

- he sings your songs like the national anthem while he showers

- you always save him the same seat at concerts that he loves because he claims to have the best view

- is your biggest supporter

- i’m almost a 100% sure that he has read every y/n fanfic there is

( in borderland! )

- won’t believe his eyes

- usagi had to hold him back from running up to you and asking for your signature

- you would find his silliness amusing

- would blush anytime you’d touch him even if you had to pull him away before he’d get shot

- staring at you 24/7

- you would be kinda freaked out but you’re used to it

- would definitely have gone to at least three of your concerts before the borderland

- makes sure that you’re safe during the games

- would definitely be jealous anytime a good looking person talks to you but he trusts you completely

shuntaro chishiya —

( before borderland! )

- he’d watch your interviews even though he claims that he doesn’t

- absolutely loathes paparazzi

- would hum your songs under his breath whenever he’s alone

- i feel like he’d have a shelf with all of your albums on it but won’t speak to you about it

- he’d feel so annoyed whenever you’d wear high heels because he’s so short

- would find it attractive tho

- while he doesn’t like physical contact in public he’ll often hold your hand if you get nervous because of paparazzi/fans

- will stalk your instagram

- uses your eyeliner and eyeshadow

- would smirk whenever one of your fans says that he’s hot

- he’d make sure that you stay healthy

- he’ll have a tea cup with your face on it but he would hide it from you

- he will kiss you softly after you have a hard day

( in borderland! )

- he honestly wouldn’t care tbh

- would be glad that you and kuina get along

- he’d kinda get annoyed if kuina is one of your fans and talks about you 24/7

- the reason is that he’d be like ‘she’s my girlfriend??’

- and kuina would then say ‘so?’

- and he’d roll his eyes before telling her to go find her own gf instead of obsessing over his

- he’d hate it whenever someone approaches you and starts flirting when he’s standing right beside you

- during games people will often recognise you and chose to stay with you

- he’ll use it to his advantage and won’t hesitate to use them as bait if needed

- thinks you’re soft so he’ll try to keep you out of harm’s way

- secretly plans on going to one of your concerts as soon as you leave borderland

- listens to your music whenever he’s wearing his earphones

suguru niragi —

( before borderland! )

- man would be shocked but he wouldn’t show it

- he says he doesn’t listen to kpop but secretly does

- purposely puts an arm around you to show the world that you’re taken

- he always looks good whenever the paparazzi takes a picture of you two

- only goes to concerts if you ask him to (borderline beg him to)

- while he almost never goes to the concert he does always pick you up

- likes going to events because they make him feel important since he’s surrounded by rich people but he’s only there bc of you lol

- won’t let paparazzi bother you

- will get overprotective of you whenever you feel uncomfortable

- he’s going to let everyone know that he’s dating the famous kpop idol y/n

( in borderland! )

- he’d just think you’re hot

- when you tell him though he’s surprised but doesn’t show it

- says that it’s stupid but thinks it’s literally so cool

- you will have to hold him back from attacking your fans lol

- he’s your personal guard dog

- protects you at all costs

- makes sure that your songs are blasting through every possible speaker on the beach

- hot make out sessions oml

- if you ever wrote a love song he’d go around telling people that you wrote it about him even though you didn’t even know that he existed before all of this happened

- he’d definitely take advantage of the fact that your very agile during your private time

takatora samura —

( before borderland! )

- let’s be honest guys the only possible way for you two to meet is through the internet

- i mean this dude practically doesn’t leave the house

- he would’ve liked one edit of you on tiktok and now your the only thing that’s on his fyp lol

- he wouldn’t know who you were and just thought that you sing pretty and look attractive

- i feel like he’d love your songs because they are so comforting and relatable

- then he’d look you up and follow you on instagram

- he’d probably write about your extraordinary on his blog

- his jaw would drop when you liked his post and left a thank you in his comment section

- after a while he would buy himself a ticket to one of your concerts bc he enjoyed your music

- he was slightly late so there weren’t much people outside

- you had also gone outside to mentally prepare yourself when he caught your eye

- you would smile at him and wave which he shyly returned

- unfortunately your short meeting had to end bc the concert was about to start

- i honestly have no clue as to how he managed to catch your attention later on but he did

- he’d go to all of your concerts knowing that singing is one of your passions

- absolutely hates going to events with every fiber in his body

- he’d be literally so supportive of you omg

( in borderland! )

- the moment that you walked into the beach for the first time his eyes were glued to you

- after a while you noticed his unwavering stare and smiled at him which made his face heat up slightly

- fortunately for him his face was covered by his tattoos

- when he found out that you are a kpop idol he started following you to make sure that nobody would do something to you

- when you kept seeing him everywhere you went you decided to greet him one morning after you saw him standing in the hallway not too far from your room

- man was flabbergasted but managed to hide it

- he just nodded at you in return so you made it a routine to wish him a good morning whenever you saw him guarding your room

- he’d never make a move even if he wanted to so you’ll have to do all the work

- whenever you tell him his tattoos look pretty he would blush so hard oml

- when fans recognise you in borderland they would be so shocked to find out that you’re dating him

- he’d definitely get your initials tattooed on his body

- you’d also decided to get his tattooed but really really small and somewhere where you can’t see it bc you’re an idol

- when he finds it he would be so obsessed with it

- he would pull out his katana to anyone who even dares to make you uncomfortable

- in public he’d stay slightly behind you to make sure that nobody can harm you in any way

- in private though he won’t let go of you

- your shared room would be filled with soft kisses and sweet words (mostly coming from you)

- he would roll his eyes anytime niragi would approach you

- you’re his first and only priority

yuzuha usagi —

( before borderland! )

- her dad would be your biggest fan oml

- i feel like he’d always put on your music during car rides

- she definitely discovered you through her dad

- would feel attracted to you and would like your music but that’s kinda it??

- until she meets you oml

- my girl has almost heart eyes but manages to hide it

- would shyly smile at you while her dad asks you for your signature

- you’d secretly give her one of your phone numbers with a ‘text me :)’ message written next to it

- she would be so shocked but when she turned to look back at you, you were already meeting other fans

- she rushes home with her dad to text you

- would smile so widely when you reply

- your daily texts and phone calls would increase and eventually you would want to meet her again

- you arrange a meeting where no one would recognise you

- when you make your relationship official you decided to keep it private

- she’d invite you over to dinner with her dad to officially meet him

- this man would be so in shock

- but he still manages to interrogate you about your intentions

- when he goes missing you’ll be the one to comfort her despite your busy scheme

( in borderland! )

- i think she would recognise you from somewhere but wouldn’t really know

- she would befriend you during a game when you help her

- while time passes you would become closer and more comfortable

- you’d tell her stories about how you travelled to all across the world for your job while she told you about her dad

- she would be comforted by you and will slowly fall for you

- soft kisses before games

- a lot of hand holding

- comforting words at night

- she will always make sure that you are alright

- during one of her searches for food she will see a kpop shop

- she would search for any cd’s, pictures, etc and would always carry it on her

©cupidsheqrt , 2022.

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genericpuff · 4 months

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Lore Olympus Episode 265 Betrays the Series' Own Messages of Consent

I've been keeping it on the down low lately with new episodes of LO, both for the sake of my mental health and because LO itself has just become so... pointless and boring. There's only so much to say when nothing is happening, and in that regard, I will preface this with a "congratulations" towards Rachel, because she's finally found a way to best the "haters" - make the comic so boring that there's nothing worth talking about to begin with.

At first glance I thought this was going to be another one of those episodes. Good job, Rachel, you managed to pad out another episode with pointless fluff to get you closer to that looming end date. Just keep dragging, just keep dragging, just keep dragging-

But the longer I sat on it, and read the comments and posts about it in discussion circles, the more I've realized that this episode in particular has a load of issues that I don't feel good just sitting on and not talking about. Primarily because, over the course of about 90% of this episode's length, we see Lore Olympus - and Rachel - slyly undo everything that ever mattered in its subtext about consent, healthy relationships, and strong communication.

Granted, Lore Olympus has never exactly been the poster child for those things, but it's trying to be, so we're going to dissect it with an equal amount of scrutiny. It wants to be taken seriously, so I'm going to take it seriously and criticize it seriously.

CONTENT WARNING: EPISODE 265 SPOILERS AHEAD, AS WELL AS DISCUSSION OF SEXUAL ASSAULT, MENTAL HEALTH, GROOMING, AND SYMPTOMS OF MANIA, PROCEED WITH CAUTION

Episode 265 opens with an attempt at plot progression, returning to Morpheus who, last we checked, had been targeted by Kronos as the cliffhanger for Episode 259 before being shoved aside entirely for multiple episodes worth of Demophoon, pool-fucking, and a vision from Hera.

Honestly, I won't waste my 30 image limit on the episode's opening sequence because it accomplishes absolutely nothing. And by the time it starts to try and state what that goal is, it transitions away, because Rachel has the attention span of a squirrel on meth and having Morpheus state what her plan is would just be too much dedicated writing for her at this point, she needs another week at least to figure it out.

So instead we get exactly what was promised in the FastPass previews - the entire episode is spent, yet again, on Hades and Persephone, with the exact same topics, conclusions, and terrible sex as the pool scene.

Seriously, this might be a nitpick, but I'm so tired of Persephone not being allowed to swear. We've seen other characters swear. We've even had Kronos call her a "dumb fucking bitch". But this "girlboss" character who we're supposed to believe has "agency" can't be allowed to swear even when they're in an ACTUALLY STRESSFUL SITUATION? You know purity culture isn't exclusive to sex, right, Rachel? If you're gonna deconstruct it, maybe don't have the poster child of that deconstruction be relegated to a church girl? She's literally the Queen of the Underworld - adjacent to the ruler of Hell - let her fucking swear LMAO

Anyways, we see very quickly that Persephone is still feeling the ill effects of her anxiety that she was feeling in the last episode. Anxiety that, by the way, caused her to pass out. Please keep that in mind, don't let it escape.

And what is she stressing over? The genocide? The fact that they still don't have an actual solution to the ongoing "plague"?

Nah. The sleep dive. She's stressing over her husband doing the sleep dive again and - like last time - turning into a dad-possessed monster.

As always, the fear and anxiety is in no way linked to the actual devastation happening outside - it's just concern for the main male lead, because that's all Persephone's character and thoughts and opinions and "agency" can revolve around.

But uh. Remember that scene where Hades got possessed by Kronos and literally strangled her? Remember that scene I just asked you to keep in your brain about her panic attacks getting so bad she's been passing out?

Hello? No? Okay. Next.

I hate, I loathe, I detest this dialogue. Not because it's cliche as fuck - it is - but because the whole "I trust you, it's just xyz I don't trust" shit has been overplayed and debunked as a plausible response in relationship communication for years now.

We talked about this back during our discussion of Leuce - how it shouldn't matter if Persephone doesn't trust Leuce because ultimately Leuce can't do anything to her or Hades' relationship if it's built on as much "trust" as she claims it is, trusting Hades is all that should matter full stop - and it repeats itself here, albeit with Hades' dad instead of his canon first wife. This is a copout. Relationships actually built on trust can definitely still be worried about the issues posed by other people, but if you trust your partner, if you truly trust your partner, that's it. That's where the sentence ends. No shit you don't trust Kronos, we've been over this song and dance multiple times before and while he's definitely a bigger real threat than Leuce, your distrust for Kronos has nothing to do with how you're communicating with your partner who knows there's likely no other way and a solution has to be found. Nothing's being accomplished at this point from Persephone moping around and having sex with her husband, and he's showing 10x more initiative in actually finding a solution - even if it means putting his own safety at risk - than Persephone.

I didn't edit any of that, those are the legit real panels. Literally what the fuck is this dialogue, my tinfoil hat theory about LO being written by ChatGPT is becoming more and more plausible and I hate that, my crackpot theories shouldn't actually become reality.

Is there an owl in here?

LO is just spinning its wheels over the exact same conversation and points that have already been made. Nothing is being accomplished here, it's just more moping and going over the same problems - the centre of which being "what about H x P's relationship?? :(((("

All of that repetitive meandering and moping for "okay fine but if anything feels weird, get out" "okay". It, again, accomplishes nothing that couldn't have been accomplished during the pool scene.

And now we get this line. "I experienced greed in that way, and you do not possess it." Don't be alarmed if you were confused, I was confused too, as were many people in the discussion circles. Thanks to the ULO Discord, I realized she was talking about Apollo. She's literally comparing him to Apollo.

"After all this time, I can't comprehend you causing me harm. I've been at the receiving end of harm so I would know" is literally all she's trying to say. And even with it translated... I don't really like the implications of it at all. This has been a problem since S1, but there's always been this subtext in LO that because Hades didn't rape her, that somehow makes him less abusive or a better partner for Persephone than Apollo, that's all the SA has really been trying to achieve.

But Hades is abusive. He's intentionally pursued women who are in a crisis. He's trapped women in financial dependency. He's sabotaged women from having power and status on the same level as him.

And now, we're about to see actual abuse from Hades - the subtle kind that demands co-dependency, but is still abuse, full stop - but it's being framed as "romantic".

"Being an Originals creator was my big chance to prove myself, and I flopped"- wait sorry I misread. We're talking about Persephone failing at being Queen. Yeah, she definitely flopped. And it goes to show her true intentions in wanting to be Queen, now that she's hit rock bottom and isn't putting on a brave PR face - she wanted to become Queen not to make the Underworld a better place, not to be an example of being a better ruler among a gallery of scumbags, but to "prove" that she could belong and be one of the big guys, that she could be more than just a cereal box mascot.

Don't get me wrong, I can absolutely get wanting to rise above the odds and "prove" to everyone that you can be more than people's perceptions of you, but becoming the literal ruler of a realm that you then go on to destroy due to your own hubris, just to whine and cry about it and have your husband and your colleagues and your friends carry the burden of that destruction on your behalf... therapy would have been a better first step to overcoming those insecurities, not taking control over the lives of innocent people.

Especially when Persephone DID have status and power before becoming Queen, it just wasn't the specific kind of status and power she wanted. She was only a trust fund child with a huge net worth, a full-ride scholarship, and everything she could ever need provided to her with little struggle to get it - but she didn't have control over other people so it just wasn't good enough.

This is the perspective and attitude of a 19 year old who never matured. Who never could mature because she transitioned from her mother's control into Hades'. There were far better ways to prove herself, ways that we had seen her try to do, only to drop so she could pursue her co-dependent relationship with Hades - she gave up her schooling, gave up her apartment (which we only see her use maybe 2-3 times), gave up so many of her connections and support so she could be with Hades.

This is the result of 5 years of real-time grooming that we're seeing play out.

No, you are just saying them because she's your wife. You'd be saying it to Minthe, or Leuce, or Hera, or any other woman in Persephone's position because it's not about taking accountability, it's about keeping these women in a position of submissiveness and co-dependency, by giving them reassurance that nothing they ever do is wrong and that he's the only one that can give them that freedom from consequences.

And then we get the reinforcement.

I'm gonna spare you all the cringe of the actual sex scene (and yes, they do straight up go into having onscreen sex and it's... not hot at all), but here's some of the dialogue spoken by Hades during the entire sequence:

Again, let's remember the actual situation that led up to this and the position Persephone is currently in. For the third time Persephone has "accidentally" killed thousands of people. Over the past few episodes we've seen her try to realize how so many of these problems have been her fault and she clearly doesn't know how to make things right (and Rachel has made it obvious how much she doesn't want you to agree with this kind of self-awareness because much of it is being said through the mouthpiece of a rapist). And now we have Hades, reinforcing the thought patterns that would prevent her from growing and learning and changing. In this, a comic that's supposed to be "feminist", a comic that's trying to preach the importance of consent, a comic that's trying to make us believe this is a healthy, consenting relationship with strong communication skills.

These are literally grooming tactics. Hades is reinforcing the same thought patterns that will prevent Persephone from acknowledging her errors and mistakes. People are dying and Hades is telling her that if anyone has anything to say about it, they deserve to die anyways. The same man who literally rewarded her with sex for vandalizing a nymph's home is now telling her that she's not cruel, but kind:

Hades might not be Apollo, but he literally choked her out less than a week ago while possessed by his dad, and for the last SEVERAL episodes he's had the starry skin making him resemble who? Oh yeah, his dad.

Hades is literally holding Persephone in the same position Kronos did, while she's experiencing a literal meltdown that she's trying to stuff deep down - in fact, exhibiting a LOT of symptoms of mania - and initiating sex.

Doesn't this feel a little familiar?

Oh right, but he asks her if she's "still okay" mid sex only AFTER initiating chokehold sex with her without her consent and love-bombing her, so it's fine, clearly.

I remember being 17 years old and reading Fifty Shades of Grey for the first time, and even then understanding fully how toxic their relationship was. I can only hope the teenagers in Rachel's comment section can realize that as well, but judging by the comment section, I'm not holding out hope. This is literally "fifty shades of fucked up" material, and what's worse is that I can't tell if Rachel genuinely thinks this is healthy, or just doesn't realize how unhealthy it's coming across as. Even beyond how "cringe" this sequence is, it enters into the realm of being deeply uncomfortable and unsettling, and it needs to be talked about, Rachel can't be let off the hook for this especially when this is supposed to be, again, a comic that's intending to "deconstruct purity culture" and teach young girls about consent and boundaries.

And that's it, that's the end of the episode. It reads like the manifesto of a villain in the making at the hands of a predator, like Anakin being manipulated by Palpatine - "so long as you're with me, you'll have all the power, all the glory, and everyone else will be crushed underneath your heel."

Is that really the message we really want to come away from LO from? That it's fine for husbands to initiate sex with their wives through trauma-bonding and reinforcement of toxic thought patterns rooted in grooming because... they're married? That being a "girlboss" means sabotaging and abusing anyone who you perceive as a threat?

Is Hades really that much different from Apollo? Because so far, the line between his actions and Apollo's are seriously starting to blur. The parallels between Persephone and his past partners - Minthe and Hera - have always been clear, but they've never been quite so loud as last night's episode.

This is Hades' play, the play of a groomer and an abuser who depends on making their victims dependent on them - taking advantage of women while they're in a crisis.

For Minthe, it was financial - she had lost her job, blamed it on him, and he found a way to "solve her problem" that strategically put her into a position where she had to continue to financially depend on him for what's assumed to at least be a year or longer, through her apartment, her bills, and her job.

For Hera, it was emotional - she had chosen Zeus over him, and instead of addressing her marital concerns within the marriage, she participated in an affair with Hades in an attempt to have what she could have had if she had chosen Hades instead, a man who resembles her own abuser. Not only did this put her into a much more vulnerable position than him - if the affair was found out, Hera would have suffered the consequences far more than Hades - but it's also manifested itself into Persephone, who Hera has been using as a stand-in for herself, even going so far as to manipulate Persephone's image and how she goes about her decision-making, from intentionally pulling the strings to get Persephone a job with Hades so she could get closer to him as a "test" for Hades, to forcing Persephone to wear a wedding dress she wanted her to wear over the one Persephone had actually picked out herself.

And now there's Persephone, the newest addition to the cycle of abuse and untreated trauma, the true culmination of Hades' years trapping and manipulating women - financially dependent on him, emotionally dependent on him, and only where she is because she's made her entire identity revolve around him.

I'm not going to psychoanalyze Rachel in any way, I don't want anyone to think that this is permission to do so because Rachel's personal life is her own and I want to examine the material rather than the person. But so much of LO gives me such a gross impression that Rachel herself never matured past middle school, that she never grew beyond the mindset of being a 13 year old girl who felt like the entire world was against her and that no one could understand her, that she never gained the perspective most adults do by the time they're 25 at minimum after they've entered the "real world" and had the lived experiences that make you realize "wow, that girl I hated in high school for stealing my crush from me probably wasn't as bad as I thought she was and we were all just teenagers trying to navigate the hellscape that is adolescence."

And instead of actually analyzing those thought patterns and mindsets, Rachel is instead reinforcing it in her own audience of 13 year old girls and teenagers who will only hopefully maybe outgrow it and not just repeat the cycle themselves.

And this isn't entirely on Rachel's shoulders. It's on the shoulders of E.L. James, of Stephanie Meyer, of Colleen Hoover, of every "young adult" romance author who's peddled this strictly heteronormative "submission culture but not like the 1950's kind I swear" crap, that women should only aspire to find the richest man they can bag in their pursuit for power and after that everything in the world is owed to them and any problem they have can be solved by riding dick. Trauma? Solved. Genocide? Solved. The very real consequences of your own actions that affect others to such a degree that it will be felt for decades? Solved. Just ride that dick and get that money, girlboss.

Just like 50 Shades of Grey, if Lore Olympus was any other story, it would be a tragedy. It would be a masterclass in understanding and showcasing the signs of emotional abuse, financial abuse, grooming, trauma-bonding, love-bombing, and enforcing co-dependent habits for the sake of trapping people. It would be a precautionary tale to young girls to stay alert and be wary of older men, that men like Hades are depending on girls to fall for their tricks, their praise, their affirmations that they're so mature for their age, that they're not like other girls, that they would just be so set for life if they spent all their time and attention with them, so that they can "have it all".

I can only hope that even a third of the young girls who read LO naturally grow up, gain perspective, and learn that LO isn't the pillar of healthy relationships and consent that it tries to be. It's certainly a common thing to see these days, for people to join the UnpopularLoreOlympus / #antiloreolympus community with sentiments that they started reading it at age 14 and then (thankfully) learned that what LO was preaching wasn't healthy.

But for every other girl who doesn't realize this, it's reinforcement of the same cycles - the cycle of women being only objects for sex, pitting themselves against one another, confusing gender empowerment with abuse towards others, and making their entire identity revolve around a man and justifying it as healthy so long as it makes them rich and powerful.

Even if Rachel some day gets her own head out of her ass and realizes what damage she's causing in her audience, like Persephone committing genocide, no amount of self-awareness will undo the consequences. She'll still have the awards, the money, the accolades, everything she's gained off the backs of Greek myth, feminism, and good faith from an immature audience who doesn't know any better and isn't being given the tools to understand.

Even if she realizes that, that's something she's going to have to live with for the rest of her career.

And it's a fucking tragedy.

#lore olympus critical #anti lore olympus #antiloreolympus

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gaysindistress · 9 days

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Allies or Enemies - one

disclaimer: credits to original creator/poster of image/gif. found on google/Pinterest

pairings: Dragonborn!bucky x f!reader

Summary: The reality of her cruel world is more evident than ever before when her stepfather sends her to her death under the guise of diplomacy. Y/n, the expendable daughter of a scared king, must find a way to secure her own protection among the Dragonborn and she will do that by whatever means necessary.

Warnings: mild cursing

Word count: 3.3k

series masterlist | main masterlist

taglist: @unaxv

“The king requires your presence.”

“But were I to require that he does not bother me, my request would be ignored. We cannot always have the things that we desire,” I sigh whilst continuing to read the journal in front of me.

The handwriting is terrible, so much so that I can barely finish a page in 5 minutes but given that the king has been demanding my presence at every chance that he gets, I continue with my struggles. An older woman stands in the doorway and I can feel her glare at me with a hatred that I imagine is reserved only for me. After all, my mother is the one who married her lover.

“Now.”

The finality in her tone would’ve caused a younger me to look up in fear but I’ve grown used to the stern reality of our world. As the eldest daughter of the queen, I’ve been educated in every form of manipulation that can be conveyed through the voice. As the child of the late king and the unwanted stepchild to the current king, I’ve been taught that I am the only protection that I have. No one will come to my aid or offer me guidance when I need it. No one will tend to my wounds when the cruel servants of the king lash me with their words. No one will care for me in the way that my younger sisters are looked after. No one would even bat an eye if I were to vanish into thin air. They might celebrate if that were to happen.

The woman whom I despise just as much as she me repeats herself with a heavy huff as if I have greatly inconvenienced her by breathing the same air as her or simply existing. Whether it be my existence or continued residence at the palace that is more vexing to her is yet to be determined I’ve decided.

The journal before me bound in precious leather and gold thread suddenly becomes unimportant. While it details the various races of creatures that occupy these lands and would prove to be useful in my studies, it will do nothing to shield me from the king’s wrath. My fingers drift away from the frayed edges and allow it to close by itself, prompting small dust specks to flutter around it. The black silk ribbon that I wound around the end of my braid is dangling above the curious journal, trailing its delicate ends over the monstrous illustrations hidden in its opulent bindings. The ribbon, much like my heart, yearns to open it once more and lose myself in its pages but is bound by duty to ignore such a yearning.

“Your highness,” she demands in a tight voice, “We are to leave now.”

Rolling my eyes would most certainly earn me a slap across the face but it doesn’t stop me from squeezing them shut in frustration. Standing up from my desk, I swipe at the dust on my lap, smearing gray streaks across the thick black fabric of my over skirt. She makes a small noise of disgust at the action, no doubt complaining loudly in her mind that being presentable is not something I know how to do. We make eye contact for a brief moment and she is quick to turn on her heel, forcing me to nearly jog to catch up so that I may follow this hateful woman to my certain death.

The Beloved King Anthony Starkov had been a wonderful king at first. After the invasion of the Dragonborn and the apparent failure by my father to protect his nation, Anthony seemed like a god sent. He rode in on a pure white horse with the head of the most fearsome Dragonborn knight on his sword as he declared that he was now king. My mother, the poor grieving widower queen, had no choice but to accept his proposal and promise to care for us. He’s doted on her, showered her with affection and gifts, and most importantly he treated me as if I were his own. Following my father’s death and living in fear of Dragonborn attack’s, a protective shield was all I prayed for. My mother could barely protect herself from the onslaught of the court’s cruel words and it became apparent that soon they would turn on me. It was not for a lack of trying surely but due to the fact that she was not a man. As the angry old woman who calls herself my advisor likes to remind me, a woman is only as powerful as the man that marries her and that meant my mother had no power until Anthony.

The moment that Anthony took the crown and later my mother’s hand, we’d all thought that this would be the bright moment in our bleak lives that we’d been looking for. The nation of York was at peace when it had been a foreign concept to me and many others after the Dragonborn had launched their attack. The love that Anthony and my mother shared burned brighter than the terror that my father had allowed into our land.

Until the rumors of his cruel actions behind closed doors began to spread.

The help always gossiped against themselves and no one truly paid any mind.

That is until evidence accompanies these rumors.

My mother did well to hide what she could but once again there was only so much that she could do to protect me. When my sisters came along, I presume that Anthony no longer felt anger towards her but instead towards me, the last reminder of the Failed King. I’d always had pitying stares and endured hushed conversations where my name slipped between their fingers as they whispered to each other.

Poor child.

I heard that she’s going to be married off as soon as possible.

I heard that she’s just as weak as her father.

Poor child.

I ignored them until I couldn’t anymore. I ignored them until I had been sent to live with a distant cousin to be “taught the art of diplomacy” and was told to never return to the palace. With this distant cousin, I did learn the art of diplomacy as planned but as the craft of cutting words and cunning actions. I’d grown rather talented at navigating the complicated relations of neighboring nations, so much so that foreign diplomats asked for me by name. My ability to seamlessly blend together warring cultures and broken bonds earned me fame beyond that of my late father. Of course like any wicked stepparent, Anthony demanded I return to court so that my talents may be best utilized to serve the nation.

What a wretched lie to shorten my leash.

So began my rebellion.

The older woman who is also my ill informed advisor, Pepper, stomps down the dim hall towards the grand battle room. Her reddish blonde hair hardly moves behind her as she makes a determined path to the king despite the curls it’s been styled into. It’s rather shocking to see her hair down at all considering she is usually the one to lecture me on the propriety of society and how as a member of the royal family, I must uphold that. After she’s red in the face and moments away from exploding with fury, I like to remind her that I’m the forgotten eldest daughter. No one thinks of me as the face of this family or that of modern society either.

Despite its name, the battle room cannot be considered grand by any stretch of the imagination. Much like the rest of the palace, it is old and worn from economic fatigue. Where gold used to be brushed across every inch, there are now only flecks of lackluster yellow. Where towering windows used to bathe the halls in sunlight, there are now curtains drawn to prevent the Dragonborn from seeing movement within the palace. There is no finery to be seen and what was once a regal sight to behold is the stark reminder that we are at war with enemies who have every advantage.

With a deafening boom, ragged guards who’ve past their battle prime push the battle room doors and alert the king to our arrival. Pepper stomps right to where the king is sitting among pillars of maps and letters and whispers something in his ear. I don’t need to know whatever lies she’s telling him because his expression tells me enough. His ever present scowl deepens when he looks up and settles his disgusted gaze on me.

Dust swirls from my skirts as I shift on my feet and hit the wood paneled floors beneath me with a silent loudness as he stares at me.

A single question hangs in the air as he attempts to peer into my soul, “Were you aware that the Dragonic bastards were planning to create an alliance with the Elven counsel?”

Of course no warm welcome or small talk. Straight to the heart of the reason he even dragged me back here in the first place.

“Was I aware of this alliance?” I calmly restate, arching a brow at the man who sits high on his worthless throne and judges me. “Had I been, I would have informed you the instant I knew, your highness.”

In truth, I had heard snippets of clipped conversations about something brewing between the two nations but nothing raised concern within me. Rather nothing could’ve convinced me to speak to this man willingly.

The throne is a disgusting sight to behold with its mangled wood and tattered black cloth that flows in the still wind behind it. Black as night and deafening as the ever present silence that fills when you’re dying, this throne is what haunted me as a child and whispers promises of my demise now as an adult. The throne smiles when it senses my anger and the man who is occupying it becomes a conduit for its emotions as that familiar sinister glint flickers in his dark eyes.

Anthony throws a glance to the dust that has fallen around me with disappointment before speaking, “Do not play games with me, child.”

My eyes narrow at his choice of words.

“I assure you,” I start as I take a step forward as the heels of my boots make light taps on the wood, “I am not playing games with you. As I said before, if I had heard anything about this rumored alliance then you would have been made aware as well but alas I did not know.”

Anthony’s hollow chuckle causes my hair to stand on end but my face is schooled into perfect indifference. I allow my expression to portray only mild concern for the safety of our nation and that gets under his skin more than anything.

“If that is the position that you wish to maintain, then so be it.”

I roll my eyes at him and his flash with rage for a brief moment. The king settles back into his chair as he smirks at me, “you are my most sought after diplomat, are you not?”

Where is he going with this? I think to myself while I nod.

“Of course you are. You have your father’s legendary silver tongue. I should think that you would be the perfect person to forge an alliance on the nation’s behalf.``

My heart stills while my body becomes completely frigid. Suddenly the thick fabrics of my skirts and tight corset are useless against the chill that has begun to creep up my spine. The king holds back an all out grin and clenches his jaw. The action tightens and sharpens his already pronounced jaw, giving him the appearance akin to a statue. A crown of graying black waves adores his head but it does nothing to soften the severe look on his tanned face. “I have arranged for you to travel to the Dragonic capital and broker a peace treaty of sorts between us and them. We cannot allow this war to rage on any longer if they intend to ally themselves with the Elven counsel. This nation will not survive.”

“You expect me to do what?” I snarl with a curl of my lip which sends the entire room on high alert. Pepper gasps as she steps behind Anthony and the guards have arranged themselves in a defensive circle.

The king on his feet in seconds, brandishing a dull sword and pointing it at me albeit still a safe distance away. My gaze makes a slow path from the pathetic sword to his furious face. It is not the first time that he’s drawn a weapon on me and I doubt it will be the least.

“Your father is the reason this nation is all but decimated and it will be you who corrects that mistake. You will do as I demand of you and you will do it well if you wish for your mother to live.”

“You would not dare.” I hiss at him as I step closer. He steps back and says my name but I interrupt him with a roar of anger.

“You cannot expect me to willingly walk into a viper’s den, provoke the beast within, and survive, let alone make it obey me. You must know that this means almost certain death for me and I will fail. It is an impossible task, your highness. I will not do it.”

He hesitates, something that I haven’t seen him do ever, and I want to take pride in being the one to cause his hesitation but it’s short lived. His lip curls up into a nasty smirk as he sneers at me and circles his desk to stand mere inches from me.

“We might share blood but you are not my step daughter or family in any sense of the word. You are an abomination, a blight upon this earth. You are a dark stain in the fabric of our history and one that I will spend the remainder of my reign trying to scrub clean. You are a beastly girl who knows no discipline nor manners and nothing can forgive the torment that you've put this court through. Understand that is a blessing and that I should sentence you to death outright for simply being the offspring of the Failed King.”

Too caught up in the king’s self-serving monologue, I’d failed to hear the sound of thundering wings and the dreadful slap of scaled boots marching towards the battle room. I’d missed how the palace seemed to shrink around us in fear while its enemy stormed its halls with permission. I’d missed how only Anthony and I remained while the others had fled for their safety. I’d failed to notice that the air grew hazy and thick with smoke instead of tension as I had assumed.

Just as I catch the scent of burnt embers, I turn to glance over my shoulder and see the most important thing that I had failed to notice; a knight clad in iridescent black armor who is standing just behind me.

Towering above everyone and everything in the room, the knight seems to be almost double the size of any mortal man I know. As I spin to face it, the hulking frame shrouds me in complete darkness. My eyes make the nearly seven foot long ascent to where a face might be if it weren’t for the helmet that chills me to my core as I recognize it.

It’s the helmet of a Dragonborn knight.

They all wear the same sleek black helmet that resembles their beastly forms; six large horn-like spikes that stretch from the sides and top while the chin comes to a narrow point like a dragon’s nose. The helmet is otherwise plain with engravings or markings to decorate it aside from two sets of ruby glass eyes that stare down at me. It covers the knight’s entire face and head, leaving not even a sliver of skin or strand of hair to be seen. Save for the nature creases where the armor is cut to allow for movement, it lacks any decorations or embellishments much like the helmet. I’d once been told that it’s iridescent quality was due to the fact it was made from their dragon form’s scales instead of metal like mortal knights’ but I’ve never been close enough to one to ask. This is the first time I've been close to a Dragonborn at all, knight or not. My father had allowed a handful of their diplomats into the palace before his death but they’d used they’re mortal forms and only stayed for however long was absolutely necessary. I scarcely remember them aside from their silently menacing presence that would engulf rooms before they walked in and the scent of burnt embers that clung to their skin. Aside from those few past encounters, my knowledge comes from the journals I’ve snuck into the palace but nothing would’ve prepared me for this moment.

The knight simply stares down at me with those double ruby eyes before lifting its head to look at Anthony. With its gaze off of me, I look around it to see that there are only three more Dragonborn knights. Given how hostile our nations’ relationship has been, I would’ve expected to see a small army. Instead it seems that their leader did not think they would face much resistance or maybe these knights are more vicious than I’d been led to believe.

Anthony lets out a shuddered breath before he speaks, “You will leave with them in two days time.”

The knight glances back at me. The clawed gauntlets that cover its hands make a small noise when they come to rest on the hilt of a onyx greatsword. It stiles a cord of deep rooted terror within me that I can’t stop from setting ablaze to my nerves.

they’re not like us

It echoes throughout my mind while we stare at each other. The knight cocks its head and I can only assume it's studying me as I am it.

Anthony’s unsteady footsteps stop me from getting caught up entirely in the knight before me.

“She’ll never forgive you,” I whisper without looking away from the knight. I don’t need to look to know that my cowardly stepfather is retreating to safety and leaving me with these monstrous knights.

“She’ll be more thankful that her true daughters are alive.”

The other knights approach us, causing Anthony to let out a shaky chuckle in fear and stumble as he steps back.

One speaks, his gravelly voice rumbles the walls of this weak palace and shakes dust all around us, “The binding ceremony will take place tonight. Have you made the preparations as requested?”

I hear Anthony mumble something along the lines of ‘yes’ with a rambling of nervous explanations. The only words I can focus on are “binding ceremony”. They fall off my tongue in confusion and disbelief without me realizing.

“For your protection,” another more guttural voice answers. It’s quieter, one could not call it gentle but the low tone might be considered such to their kind. The knight before me waits for me to say something and when I don’t, he adds, “you will be safe with us. No harm shall befall you under our guard.”

A sarcastic chuckle wants to spill out but I keep my lips sealed. Safety is an illusion for any member of the royal family and it’s one that I saw through many years ago. I have no doubt that the knights will protect me as long as I prove useful but the moment an alliance is forged, that protection will end. Anthony will kill me the moment I step foot back into his nation and I have no allies of my own to rely on me.

The reality of this cruel world is more evident than ever before; I must find a way to secure my own protection and I will do that by whatever means necessary.

#bucky barnes imagine #bucky barnes #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes x y/n #bucky barnes x you #bucky barnes fic #marvel imagine #bucky barnes fanfic #dragon x reader #dragon au #dragon x human #dragon Bucky x reader #allies or enemies #allies or enemies Bucky x reader

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enavstars · 1 year

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Time for Aus :D

(Poster/ desings are not final)

Details:

Eclipse:

Takes place after crystallized, the ninja have recovered their powers and got back to the status quo.

Rumors start spreading on the Internet that Kai is actually useless because he's never defeated a supervillain on his own. Kai gets insecure about his worth to the rest of the team, acting more and more rashly out of the need to prove himself. However, everyone else thinks he's overreacting for attention, so in a mission with Lloyd and Nya, after trying too hard and messing up, they snap at him, thinking he just wants to regain his popularity disregarding people's safety.

Much later, Kai is injured on a solo mission and is saved by a mysterious woman (the villain) who secretly aims to manipulate him to turn against the ninja and Ninjago as a whole, taking advantage on his past hardships as a child and his current mixed feelings towards them. She uses dark magic (sort of like Clause) to take and amplify what little is left of the corruption from Chen's elements staff into a mask, to slowly make his own thoughts turn against them all, eroding him from inside out.

At first she convinces him to become a kind of vigilante, killing criminals who might have used him in the past under said mask as Akatora ("Red Tiger"), steadily growing more corrupted.

Once the ninja discover Akatora's true identity, they believe he's being forced to betray them and try to "save" him, which only angers Kai further for not realizing how badly they've treated him.

But when they realize that they're at fault, the team splits in two: Cole, Jay and Pixal can't see a way of saving Kai on time before he self-destructs and takes the entire city down with him; while Lloyd, Nya and Zane try to get him back at all costs.

At first, the villain didn't care which elemental master to use to get the ninja to destroy the city. But upon finding out more about Kai's past, she decides the Ninja are no good for him and wants to "save" him, to get him out of that toxic environment. She even confronts them more than once after taking him under her wing. However, later on she changes her mind...

I have many more details but this is all I'll say for now. I want to make it a realistic and morally grey season where neither the ninja nor Kai are the villain, because the ninja do love Kai, they just have to show it. Also Kai's corruption is going to be slow where you don't really know how of it is Kai's true intentions.

On the road:

This AU is set years after Kai and Nya's parent's disappearence. Despite still living at the blacksmith off Kai's odd jobs, the siblings are fairly neglected by the townspeople of Ignacia. After getting seriously beat up in a fight with some kids who had been passive-agressively bullying Kai for years, they go a little too far by almost killing him and threatening to do the same to Nya. Kai is forced to abandon the hope of their parents ever returning and leaves for Ninjago City with Nya, hoping for a better life.

After travelling for a while they stumble across Ronin. They somehow convince him to take them in for a while in his rudimentary shed and to teach Kai how to hunt and be more self-sufficient for the journey. In the meantime, Nya shows off her handiwork, making toys off scraps for Ronin to sell as thanks. When they decide to part ways, Ronin gives them a map, setting them on the right direction (he's no babysitter, but hey, he actually cared).

Days later, Nya finds a hungry and weary Lloyd along the way, lost after escaping Darkleys and looking for his uncle Wu. After some convincing from Nya, they agree to take him in and start travelling together, eventually bonding and becoming a found family.

The Au is mostly about their (fun) little adventures and Kai being an overstressed mom trying to keep their younger siblings alive and relatively out of trouble (but don't worry, he's actually enjoying it).

In the end, after having taken their shot in Ninjago, they find Wu and are taken in at the monastery. Yes, Wu is actually a good uncle here. They deserve it. Especially Kai.

Kai is 13, Nya 11 and Lloyd 9 (older than canon, no tomorrow's tea)

Feel free to ask any questions about the aus.

#ninjago #ninjago kai #kai smith #kai jiang #ninjago nya #nya smith #nya jiang #ninjago lloyd #lloyd garmadon #I love the contrast between the 2 #one is super angsty #and the other one is fluff #(there's going to be a bit of angst in the second one too tho)#rgb siblings #ninjago eclipse au #ninjago on the road au

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onlyonetifosi · 11 months

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The Leclerc household was buzzing with activity on a sunny Sunday afternoon. The aroma of freshly brewed coffee and the sound of dishes clinking together filled the air. It was a typical day for the Leclerc family, except for one member who stood silently in the corner of the kitchen, observing the chaos before her. That member was Y/N Leclerc, the youngest of the Leclerc siblings.

Y/N was only seventeen, still in high school, while her brothers, Charles and Arthur, had already made their mark in the world of motorsports. Charles, the middle child, had achieved great success in Formula 1, while Arthur was steadily making his way through Formula 2. Y/N, however, was never given the opportunity to pursue her dreams of becoming a race car driver. The family's financial limitations forced them to prioritize Charles and Arthur's careers.

As Y/N watched her brothers and mother, Pascale, engaging in animated conversation, she couldn't help but feel a pang of longing. She desperately wanted to be a part of their world, to share in their victories and defeats. But fate had chosen a different path for her, one that she was still struggling to come to terms with.

"Y/N, can you pass me the sugar, s'il vous plaît?" Charles's voice interrupted her thoughts, his eyes focused on his phone.

Y/N snapped back to reality and reached for the sugar, placing it in front of him. "Here you go, Charles."

"Merci," he replied absentmindedly, already engrossed in his social media feed.

She glanced at Arthur, who was discussing race strategies with their mother in rapid French. He occasionally shot her a sympathetic smile, aware of the void in her heart.

Feeling a surge of frustration, Y/N mustered the courage to speak up. "Maman, I don't feel well can I go to my room?" she said, her voice wavering slightly.

Pascale turned to her daughter, a concerned expression on her face but still let her. "Bien sûr"

Y/N found solace in her bedroom, sitting on the edge of her bed, staring at the wall adorned with posters of her brothers' achievements. It was a constant reminder of the path she couldn't walk.

A soft knock on the door interrupted her thoughts, and her mother, Pascale, stepped in. She had a gentle smile on her face, but Y/N could see the sadness in her eyes.

"Ma chérie," Pascale said, her voice filled with love and concern. "Are you okay?"

Y/N fought back tears and nodded, unable to find the right words.

Pascale sat beside her and gently placed a hand on her shoulder. "I know it's difficult, Y/N. But your time will come. We couldn't afford to support all three of you at once, and it broke our hearts to make that decision."

Y/N's voice trembled as she spoke, "I just feel so invisible, Mom. Like I don't matter compared to Charles and Arthur. They're living their dreams, and I'm stuck here."

Pascale hugged her tightly, her voice softening. "You matter more than you know, my dear. You're our pillar of strength, our hope for the future. We couldn't have made it this far without you."

Y/N clung to her mother, tears streaming down her face. "Je sais, maman, mais c'est difficile. J'essaie de trouver ma place, mais j'ai l'impression que je ne pourrai jamais briller comme eux."

A few days later, Charles, Arthur, and Lorenzo found Y/N sitting in the garden, lost in her thoughts. They exchanged worried glances before joining her, taking a seat on the bench.

Lorenzo, the ever-protective older brother, broke the silence. "Y/N, we need to talk. We've noticed that you've been feeling down lately, and we want you to know that we see you. We love you."

Y/N looked up at them, tears streaming down her face. "I'm sorry. I don't want to be a burden. I just can't help feeling left behind."

Charles placed a hand on her shoulder, his voice filled with remorse. "Y/N, you're not a burden. We may be racing, but you're racing in your own way. You're still fighting, still pushing through, and we admire that."

Arthur chimed in, his voice full of conviction. "You've always been our biggest supporter, Y/N. Your presence gives us strength. We wouldn't be where we are without you."

Y/N wiped away her tears, a glimmer of hope returning to her eyes. She finally felt seen, acknowledged, and valued by her brothers.

"Merci," she whispered, a small smile tugging at the corners of her lips. "Je vous aime"

In that moment, they all understood the true meaning of family. It wasn't just about racing or achievements, but about being there for each other, supporting one another through the highs and lows of life.

The Leclerc family stood in a tender embrace, a silent acknowledgment of the love and bond they shared. In that moment, Y/N realized that while her dreams of becoming a race car driver may have been put on hold, she had something equally valuable—her family's unwavering support.

From that day forward, Y/N pursued her passion for motorsports in her own unique way. She became an avid spectator, cheering on her brothers from the sidelines, and found solace in other hobbies that sparked her creativity and brought her joy.

In the shadows of the track, Y/N Leclerc discovered her own light, finding fulfillment in the love of her family and the pursuit of her own dreams, however different they may be.

#charles leclerc imagine #charles leclerc x reader #arthur leclerc imagine #f1 imagine #charles leclerc x sister!reader #f1 drivers x reader #arthur leclerc x sister!reader #f2 imagine #f2 x reader #f1 x reader #charles leclerc x you #leclerc!reader

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biblio-smia · 20 days

Text

read part one here

it's hard to wipe your hands with the tray of brownies in your hands, one that you're beginning to regret bringing. the courage in you has died in the short walk over, leaving your hands clammy and your heart to thump quickly.

it's too late to back out once the door opens to peter's aunt, your figure through the semi-opaque door beginning to become suspicious. your nerves have grown tenfold in the few seconds it has taken to reveal the older woman, fragments of a formal introduction attempting to make it out.

"oh, i know who you are, honey." peter's aunt saves you sweetly, waving you off.

"i just... wanted to come and offer my condolences." it's hard for you to look her in the eye as you bring forward your baked goods.

"oh, thank you very much." there's a deep sweetness in her voice, an acknowledgement of the words you couldn't bring yourself to say. there's a knowing kind of look in her eye as her lips part to add something else; but the wind carries what would've been her words as the two of you turn towards a new sound from inside the house - one calling your name questioningly.

"peter? were you planning on going out?" there's suspicion in her voice, leaving you with the feeling that the word again was missing from the end of her question.

peter's still, as if he's been caught. his eyes move between may and you, his gaze making you aware of how out of place you are.

"no. no- i just..." peter trails off, the hood on his head making him look even further away. the worry in his aunt's voice strikes you as more than reasonable.

aunt may's own eyes travel, not missing the way you and peter looked at each other. fleeting, nervous glances suggest to her that she was not the one you had come to comfort.

"why don't you come in?" may turns back to you, taking the tray of brownies in your hands from you and leading you with a gentle hand on the back of your shoulder.

"oh- are you sure? i didn't mean to interrupt..."

"oh, not at all. come in, come in."

you're inside before you can resist, your feet crossing a boundary you could no longer back out from. your eyes meet peter's before the two of you look away.

you had wanted to see him, desperately, ever since you heard what had happened. now that you were here, though, you felt as if you were keeping him - perhaps, by the look of the light bruising on peter's face, from something he shouldn't be doing.

"here," aunt may smiles, placing the tray she had accepted from you in peter's hands. "why don't you take your guest up to your room?"

peter feels himself blush, suddenly feeling like a child again with his aunt may trying to set him up with friends. he knew she had good intentions, wanting peter to have people his own age to hang around with, especially after he had lost his parents. most of those friends never really stuck, though.

now, peter had gone through another loss and you were here, standing at the bottom of the staircase. all he could do was pray you'd stick.

"yeah, sure," peter nods, voice quiet. of course it cracks. you really do have a gift of catching him at his worst.

peter leads you up the stairs and to the right, right into his room. it's an organized sort of messy, papers and books stacked up in different places, posters and pictures filling almost every inch of the walls. his bed sits too tidily, standing out against the cluttered corners - it looks almost unused.

peter places the tray you'd brought on an unoccupied surface, tapping his fingers against the aluminum. he turns at your silence, your attention captivated by something on his desk.

your hands hold a framed photo of peter with his aunt and uncle. you're not sure what age he's at, but it's young. older than when you met him, but young.

"sorry," you say quietly as peter gently takes the photo from your hands. there's too much sorrow in his eyes as he gives it a look, more than you've ever seen a person hold.

"'s fine." peter places the photo back on the center of his desk, forcing his eyes to leave it and focus on anything else.

"about your uncle."

peter crosses over to his bed, taking a seat and a big breath of composure before attempting to speak again. "it's fine."

you join him, taking a careful seat next to him. you didn't think so, but was there really a polite way of saying that?

dark circles hand solemnly under peter's eyes, making his skin look dull. his pale skin is a perfect canvas for the colorful spot on his face, even harsher now in the direct light.

"how are you?" you ask softly.

peter doesn't answer. there's no way to explain, not as your hands pull down his hood and your fingers take peter's chin oh-so-gently, turning his face to examine him better.

every accidental brushing of that bruise is worth the care you take with it now.

"you should ice that."

"yeah, probably." peter's words are soft, his head more focused on the grip he has on his bedsheets.

"your aunt's gonna kill you."

this pulls a laugh out of peter, low and small. "oh, yeah."

you know peter's not one to fight. usually, he's the one getting beat up. but grief can pull people towards uncharacteristic things - which will pull to try and find out all of what peter has been up to.

"you haven't been sleeping." it's less of a question and more of an observation. your hands have dropped from peter's face to your lap and you wait patiently for confirmation.

"i've, uh... been trying to figure some things out."

"like the man who murdered your uncle."

peter is silent. maybe he's not as mysterious as he thought. perhaps there's not much to be explained to you.

peter's speechlessness makes you nervous, the feeling that you've crossed into somewhere you shouldn't be pulling apologies out of your mouth and peter into your arms.

you can't think of much else to sooth him other than rubbing small circles on his back, just like it used to sooth you years ago.

peter's perplexed by this sudden proximity, how far he's jumped in such a short amount of time. there's a new kind of honesty now, no need for lies that you'd manage to see through. he feels the weight of your perceptive gaze, catching on to things no one else has noticed. peter's not sure he hates the attention.

peter's out of your arms but he's close, a mutual pull forcing both of you to barely maintain a distance.

in fact, you think you lean in. you think peter does too.

steps from outside peter's door creates a space of at least two feet between the two of you, a knock making you cough out your surprise and regain your composure.

peter's aunt walks in with two cups, one carefully tucked in the nook of her arm.

"i brought you two... oh, i'm sorry. i didn't mean to interrupt."

the implication that there was something to interrupt warms your face, words to clear up any sort of misunderstanding failing to form in time - peter's aunt is gone before either of you can say anything.

peter's ears are red, color trailing down to adorn his cheeks. something tells you he's quite easy to fluster.

his hand is warm as you take it and squeeze, gently. "i should go," you say quietly.

peter responds with a soft sound of resistance that deepens the color on his face. he's even closer now, your hand oh so gently grasping his face, your thumb grazing over the skin near the corner of his parted lips.

"peter?"

"yeah?"

your forehead has found a spot against his, shallow breaths from peter tickling your nose.

they're slow, the seconds right before your lips meet peter's. your mind is hazy, barely able to retain how gentle peter is, how careful. it's all soft with peter - from the way he touches you to the way his eyes flutter open.

"don't make your aunt worry about you," you mumble, just loud enough for peter to hear, thumb narrowly missing the injury peter sports.

peter's smile only widens, accompanied now by a small laugh. "i don't think there's been a day in the last ten years she hasn't worried about me."

you roll your eyes, though it seems your concerns about leaving so hastily have disappeared now. "don't make me worry about you."

this seems to have no affect on peter's grin. he's lost some of his nerves now, arms wrapping around you loosely to keep you close. "wouldn't dream of it."

peter laughs as you make an escape, helping you off of his bed and back onto your feet. you're dangerously close to another kiss, your focused hooked solely on peter and his helpful hands still in yours.

it takes every ounce of will to let go and force your feet in the other direction. you're only thinking of the next time you'll see peter as you call out a goodbye, interrupted only by something pulling you back into peter's arms.

surprise morphs into confusion as you examine the white line connecting you and peter, the same one that's seemingly pulled you about seven feet.

you're looking at peter for an answer, eyebrows furrowed as you search his face for one. there's nothing but a nervous smile for you, so your eyes drop back to the line for clues.

though, it's not a line.

oh. oh, god.

masterlist

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#peter parker x reader #peter parker #spiderman x reader #tasm spiderman x reader #andrew garfield peter parker x reader #tasm peter parker x reader #tasm peter parker #andrew garfield #tasm #v + peter #v writes

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deardarlingthings · 1 year

Text

I needed to make a post off of this one because... it just explains so much more. This hits so many new tones now- this show is known for their layers and callbacks and now going back to that moment even though it was wrong, he made Keeley practically bid for him as a trauma response. He had another lady he knew bid on him, almost guarantied as a safety net. This man has never known a lick of peace as a child. As a teen. Hell, his father took him to the redlight district to become a man at fourteen years old. A night that Jamie even now, comes to barely remember most likely because he blocked it out. Hell, if he was in the district, god knows if his father was making him do to forget or to be more of a man. a child being forced to lose his virginity to an adult because a parent said that was what you needed to be a man. From a man who abused him constantly. Verbally. Physically. Mentally. Every form imaginable up to present day. Topping that- his mother wasn't exactly in the picture- did she know how bad he was and left him with his father? His mother never fought for him. He has been alone. Building those walls to be like his dad because no one ever messed with him. Jamie Tartt as far as we know, up until AFC Richmond, has not known a father figure, a friend, no support system, no healthy relationships. The one person he found solace in as a kid, the man who he had a poster of on his wall, and someone who coached him one on one for several months while knowing he was being used as an emotional punching bag {and dealt with because in a sense, trauma response, used to it}, feels safe enough to tell him this. Feels free enough around him. Jamie found sanctuary in the one man who he idolized for years. and you bet your ass Roy Kent will protect his loved ones and family. Jamie has found a family in Richmond, and has found that and more in Roy fuckin' Kent.

#Ted Lasso #Jamie Tartt #Roy Kent #Ted Lasso Spoilers #ted lasso amsterdam #ted lasso sunflowers #jamie tartt the love of my life #childhood trauma #im not an apologist at this point #anti-james tartt #not to make this a jamieroy post but #indirectly #jamie x roy #roy x jamie #jamieroy #royjamie

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hauntedwitch04 · 20 days

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Neighbor

Steve Harrington x reader

Words: about 0.8k words

Warnings: smut, possessive!Steve, swearing, kinda voyeurism, not proofreaded

Author’s note: Hi loves! New day new kink, hope you like it, your witch Becky

Requests are open I Ask

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KINKTOBER ...........-..........KINKTOBER TAGLIST 2023

DAY 13: Caught masturbation

-..-..-..-..-..-..-..-..-..-..-..-..-..-..-

Steve Harrington and you have been neighbors since you were born. When you were younger you spent hours and hours playing in the backyard, and when your parents forced you into the house, you kept playing in your rooms, since your windows were in front of each other. You used to spend hours looking out, imagining adventures and exploits of the older heroes, playing at being big, not knowing that after all, you grow up too fast.

You and Steve remained very good friends until high school, when he decided that you were not popular enough to be seen with him and that he needed to find new, "cooler" friends to really be somebody. This of course had made you feel very bad, but fortunately you had met other people, better than King Steve, who had become your friends, like Robyn, a skinny blond girl who played in the school band and was a real genius as well as being a very good friend. You and Steve didn't even say hello to each other anymore when you walked past each other to go to your rooms Those windows that used to be portals into each other's world were now nothing more than what they really are: cold pieces of glass, allowing each other to peek into the other person's life hoping it would be worse than their own.

Everything had remained that way until this evening.

Steve recently returned from yet another party; he doesn't even know how he managed to get home to tell the truth, since he doesn't even remember getting into the car.

The boy is lying on the bed, still looking at the ceiling and wondering how many drinks he has had, when he realizes that your bedroom window is open, which is not so strange since it is the middle of summer and the muggy heat is unbearable at night, but usually the curtain was always drawn so that no one could see your little piece of heaven.

Steve, confused by alcohol does not realize what he is doing, and so in the dark, he sits on the bed and starts looking at you, trying to figure out what you were doing.

Your room has not changed that much since you were children, but some posters and books now adorn those walls that little you had so insisted on, being your favorite color. The desk is covered with open school books and notes, while on the floor was a pile of clothes, probably dirty, among which Steve could make out some clothing you had worn in the past few days.

The boy's eyes roam all over the room, trying to absorb the details of your life, looking and hoping to recognize deep down the little girl he was in love with as a child. All until he sees you.

You're lying in bed, in semi-darkness, but somehow Steve can see you, wearing a simple tank top and a pair of summer shorts, hoping to fight the heat; but it's not how you're dressed that shocks the boy, but what you're doing.

Your eyes are closed, while your head is resting on the pillow. Your right hand squeezes your right breast, since you are not wearing a bra, from above your shirt, while your left hand is in your shorts. Your mouth is ajar as you let muted moans slip from your lips as you chase your pleasure.

Steve freezes for a second looking at you knowing it is wrong what he is doing, yet he cannot shake his eyes off you. He feels his erection growing in his pants, to the point that it hurts so much that he can no longer avoid touching himself, first from above the fabric, then in desperation, he unzips the zipper of the jeans he is wearing and pulls out his member, beginning to lightly massage it. All this without ever taking his eyes off you, as if you were a magnet.

She watches as your fingers continue to circle your most sensitive spot, faster and faster and hungrier. Your breathing becomes labored and uneven, until a few minutes later you reach orgasm. Slowly your fingers stop moving, and you try to catch your breath. Your eyes are still closed and you can't see in the house in front of you, your neighbor masturbating at the sight of you climax.

Steve also comes to orgasm, a couple of minutes after you do, thus making time to hide well in the shadows, when you open your eyes, looking around as if you have the feeling you are being watched. He watches you settle down for a moment, before getting up to go to the bathroom, and at that moment Steve Harrington, the king of Hawkins High School, decides something.

The next orgasm you have will be at his hands.

TAGLIST

@digitalhearts @samanddeansannoyingsis @minkiles @ash04w3 @123345566 @the-house-of-rose-and-ember @nightfiress @theyluvtrinity21 @supernatural-lvr @starsval @imaraccoon @CaptainsBaby @titinkaaa @newtdumbledoorstarksoot @aunicornmademedoit @AlohaStitch0626

#steve harrington #steve harrington x reader smut #steve harrington x reader #steve harrington smut #stranger things x reader #stranger things smut #kinktober 2023 #becky's writing

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buggysangel17 · 8 months

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Three Peas In A Pod II

Summary: In which the two men find out about their children. Characters: Shanks x Buggy x F!Reading (she/her). OC Twins. (Rosa & Azul) Word Count: 1,590 Chapter Warnings: Profanities. Slight Angst.

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Chapter II: One After Another

“I should also mention that someone else has come back to the race.” Dracule Mihawk had continued almost three glasses in to his beer since his arrival.

Shanks had a single brow raised as he took another three poster from the man, curiosity got the best of him as he decided to check who it was before quipping the delayed information. All the bravado had left his lips as he caught sight of who exactly was plastered on the poster. A whooping hundred million that now rested on your shoulder.

You. You who had decided to stay in your father’s island to live the normal life, away from the thrills of the water and away from the chaos that came with becoming a pirate. He could still remember how he and Buggy had tried their best to convince you to join both of them or even either but you decided to stay with a sad smile on your face.

A part of him knew that leaving you all on your own was the biggest mistake he and Buggy could make, but he had to respect your wishes. Even with how Buggy had resented him for it, he had no other choice but to let you be. With a heavy heart and the love that never truly diminished, he hoped one day you would come back better than any of them could ever compare. It seems the time has come too.

“Should I be worried about you and your offspring?” Mihawk inquired as Shanks was still in disbelief with the sight of your poster.

Shanks didn’t think twice as he unrolled the two other poster and it was like looking at a fucking mirror. A spitting image of him, Rosa. You named her after the very first flower he and Buggy had given you, the very name you had told them you would give your child with them if ever the time comes.

Now it made a little more sense now. Why you wanted to stay. The life of a pirate wasn’t truly for your sake but your children. His eyes turned to the other poster, a boy with stark blue hair, it was Buggy through and through just without the red nose.

Memories of how Buggy had always dreamed of becoming a father to a son that he would teach anything and everything he knows. This was the life that you had chosen for the children he never knew he had.

“Does the world government know about them?” Shanks inquired, no longer in the mood for celebrations.

“Not yet from what I have gathered, but with the mess they’ve dealt with in a nearby ship, I’m certain they will find out about the three.”

That was all Shanks needed to know. He had his responsibilities, some of which he still wonders if he had made the right choice of taking. But this was above everything else was a responsibility that he needed to face head on, but not on his own, he needed Buggy along for this one.

“Did you happen to see our good friend Buggy causing havoc on your way here?” Shanks inquired grinning and hoping his new mission wasn’t as transparent with Mihawk.

“We may or we may not have crossed paths a few days ago.”

“Right, then we’ll be on our way then.”

“Something wrong, Mum?”

Even as you had tried your best to keep it to yourself, it has always been so easy for your twins to pick up on something wrong with you. In days that you would be lingering in the sadness of what could have been the life you had on the sea, they were there to comfort you, assure you in their own little way that they were here for you—creating a mess for themselves enough to distract you from your own thoughts.

But at this moment, as you were staring at the sea, the sudden change of the tides had you feeling that something was amidst and you were all too uncertain if it was a good thing or a bad thing.

“Something in the waters.” It was the only explanation that you could give.

It was not well known to the world that you had consumed one of, if not, the most sought after Devil Fruit in the world and it was the very reason your own father had thought best that you were under the protection of one Gol D. Roger instead of him, and it was the main reason as to why you had thought best to stay away from anything related to being a pirate when you found out about your pregnancy.

But now, as you felt the waters change, there was an uncertain presence that loomed and you were worried if it was a friend or a foe that would come and halt you and your children from your plan of action.

“Remember what I’ve thought you about Pirates that we may come across.” You reminded your children, turning to the two teenagers hoping that they would understand the worry that has now lingered in your body.

“Not everyone is a friend, if they have a weapon up, it’s time to step up.” The twins spoke in unison and you patted their head in appreciation.

“Very good.” You nodded turning back and was greeted with a ship, thankfully not a marine ship but an all too familiar ship that housed a man that you never thought you would see just yet. “I hope you two are ready for a fight.”

When the twins had caught sight of the approaching ship, both of them knew what was to come. Making their way down to the sleeping quarters to wake the rest of the crew up to prepare them for what was to come.

Pulling your dagger out, your eyes lingered onto the ship, waiting with bated breath as the crew were making a mad dash up to deck and ready for a fight. You hoped it would come to this but as the first shot was fired you had ordered your crew to attack right back.

“Hey shit heads this is our territory!”

The all too familiar voice of your former lover had you tense. It seems he hasn’t caught sight of you just yet. But your children, they knew exactly who the man was, what the man meant to you and what the man had meant to them even without knowing him personally.

“Dad?” The twins called out in unison to which had halted the clown from his monologue and their ship getting closer to their own.

“The fuck you two twerps talking about?” The clown questioned and only then did you make your way towards your children, hiding them behind you and making sure that Buggy had a perfect line of sight of where you were.

“We don’t want any trouble, Clown.” You spoke, making sure your voice wasn’t shaking for finally seeing him for the first time in almost two decades. “My children are not here to cause you and your crew any trouble.”

“Well if it isn’t Captain Yellow head herself. Long time no see, toots.”

It irked you to see the man held no familiarity with you like you had with him. Maybe it was because you had chosen to stay behind even when he had begged you to come with him or maybe it was the fact that when he had demanded you to choose between him or Shanks, you chose neither of them at the time only to hesitate in choosing Shanks when he had given you the choice to stay instead.

You left him in a very sour note and you truly couldn’t blame him if resentment was well written on his features upon seeing him now after all this years.

“We don’t want any trouble, Captain Buggy.” You began, ignoring your children’s protest for acting passive in such a situation of all times.

As the ship now came into full view, you were certain that the shock was now placed all too evident on the man’s face as his eyes were solely on your children whose more annoyed than anything else at the moment.

“Hey kid, how old are you?” Buggy questioned.

“That’s none of your business, nose face!” Azul snapped even before you could cover his mouth.

“Nose?” Buggy chuckled, but it was far from amusement as he had hopped his way onto your own ship with ease.

You backed away as he tried to approach you, Rosa moving forward and pointing her sword at the man that was left unfazed by her action.

“Go ahead, slice me, kid. Let’s see where it leads you, your Mama, and your brat of a brother.”

“Fuck off!” Azul spat running to block both you and your daughter.

It shook you to the core that Azul was a spitting image of Buggy. The man has also come to realize such fact as he held Azul’s face in his hand. Rosa held onto her sword tighter ready to attack should any harm come towards her brother.

“How old are they?” His attention turned towards you now, waiting for your answer.

“Fifteen.” You answered.

“So they’re the reason why?”

You nodded knowing very well what he means. You held onto your children’s hands, pulling them away from Buggy. Hoping he wouldn’t do anything drastic that would hurt any of them.

“I’m sorry, but it was the only way.”

“I will never forgive you for what you’ve taken from me.”

205 notes · View notes

blacklegsanjiii · 2 months

Note

A very random mix but totally good and funny: North Blue Lenguage (or NBL like I started to call this) + Loved!Sanji

Judge thinks his experiments on his childrens go 100% well, when in truth just half works. (They have feelings, all of them)

Sora discovers her plan worked and decides to run away with all her kids. Because fuck it, she may be sick but letting her precious childs with Judge is a big no.

After this, things kind of go like NBL, Mihawk finding them and taking them with him to Kuraigana, Sora and Mihawk falling in love, etc etc etc. Just now it's not one but five kids.

Since just Sanji wants to be a cook, when he starts to work at Baratie, his siblings stay at Kuraigana. They still see each other but usually with their parents.

And for security, Sanji don't mention his siblings too. So no one knows about them until Karai Barai.

(This could have Acesan too, with Mihawk saving Ace and Luffy 'cause, y'know, they're Sanji's boyfriend and captain. So in Kuraigana during some time there is Zoro, Luffy and Ace recovering, all confused about WHY there's two womans and three boys who look a lot like the cook – until they found a family picture with Sanji and the chaos start, for different reasons, of course)

I've also started calling it NBL! It's still tagged as North Blue language though so it stays all falls under that. It gets long under the cut and Buggy is still competent! Also a hilarious image of Mihawk, five children and Sora all on his tiny boat. Chances are he's like 'fuck it, I'm a pirate' and steals a bigger boat.

Mihawk who is staring at these six individuals, almost all of them look identical if it weren't for the colored hair and eyebrows. Four of them have them curled one way, one has them curled the other, and their mom has normal brows. He's basically taking complete strangers to his home and the kids are all so fucking helpful it's weird. To their mom, to him, to each other, and four of them are really protective of Sanji.

Mihawk blinks at the names they have and the girl, Reiju, explains what happened to them, to Sora, who Judge is and what he did to Sanji specifically. Mihawk has fury burning inside him as he listens that he's never heard before but the kids and Sora take to him extremely well and he takes to them just as well and much quicker. Mihawk doesn't know what is going on with him.

Of course when he and Sora get together all the kids celebrate and it's actually very sweet. Sanji cooks better than Mihawk and everyone loves it. The kids all have PTSD, obviously Sanji has it the worst but Reiju isn't far behind. Mihawk and Sora talk constantly about how to best keep them secret to stop Judge from finding them, so when the opportunity to become a warlord comes up he takes it.

Imagine Ace and Sanji start dating and sending letters back and forth when Ace eats at Baratie once before he and the Spadille Pirates head to the Grand Line and he tells his family all about him and what he's like and what he's up to and how sweet they are on each other makes Sora and Reiju coo and 124ji gag and Mihawk rolls his eyes because he gets it. He's the same way with Sora after all. All the siblings want to go give Ace a shovel talk and Mihawk shuts that down. Then a couple years later Sanji sends a letter after Mihawk spared Zoro saying he joined Luffy's crew and he's setting sail and they'll be in the Grand Line soon.

They read the paper, cringe at his poster and freak out about Enies Lobby and then Perona appears. She is once again adopted and then Zoro appears and freaks out about the cook being in front of him when the crew was all sent to different places. He has no idea where anyone is and he needs to get back to Sabaody and Sora is giving Mihawk a look. But then he gets a denden call.

For a summons to serve at Ace's execution.

Mihawk immediately goes to talk to Sora and the kids, minus Perona and Zoro and they talk about him leaving the Warlord system to save Ace if it's a possibility. They all immediately agree. They can handle the backlash, Sanji had a dream and a love, those were more important than their secret. They were stronger now, they could protect themselves.

So he goes and sees Luffy and Ace and the fleet so it's a possibility and he is willing to take it so he aids in the fight. He helps free Ace and aids in fighting the admirals and vice admirals and he even cuts the lava fist that is supposed to kill Ace with a haki laced Yoru. Mihawk is unwilling to let them die and sends them off to take over the fight.

"This isn't your fight!" Ace yells at him and Mihawk stands in between him and Akainu.

"Boy, if you don't run and live for those who care for you I will follow you to Hell and drag you out myself!" Mihawk threatens. "Go!" So they do, Ace and Luffy go but Akainu throws a punch around him that hits Ace and Luffy but isn't going to kill them. Mihawk might actually be pissed enough to behead Akainu, but doesn't. When Shanks shows up and ends the war Mihawk manages to find Bepo and gives him directions to Kuraigana.

Ichiji and Yonji bring them in and Mihawk thanks Law who says the normal 'too interesting to let die' which Mihawk agrees with. He sees off the heart crew and checks on the newcomers and Zoro who has Luffy curled around him and yelling as Niji is yelling at him to lay down.

"Why are there so many Sanji's?" Luffy asks after he's calmed down about Zoro as Ace is blinking at the almost clones of his boyfriend before he has the realization.

"Oh no." Ace whispers in horror at his realization.

"If you thought I would let Sanji's love die, you're wrong." Mihawk says. "I'm not the one you should be scared of about this either."

"Huh, what does that mean?" Zoro asks.

"Our mom is scarier." Niji says.

"Your dad is the world's greatest swordsman and your mom is scarier?" Zoro demands.

"If you get us killed I'm going to haunt your ass for the next four lives." Perona threatens as she peels Luffy off him.

"You all should sleep, and you need to be in your bed." Reiju says to Luffy. Luffy whines that he and his brother almost died and Reiju says that's exactly why because Law said if he reopens his chest wound he will die. So Ace and Zoro try to cajole Luffy into his own bed and he's out fairly quickly.

Sora is bringing them food at some point and Ace asks about what Niji said because there's a reason he hasn't introduced Sanji to the fleet and that reason is the amount of shovel talks Sanji would get and Sora laughs and pats his cheek, tells him not to worry about that. Luffy asks if the rest of the crew is here since Zoro and Sora says no but they'll find the crew and check on them for him while they are off training or such.

I feel like Mihawk takes the two brothers and Zoro to Rayleigh and the Shirohige fleet, one so they can spend more time together, and two so Mihawk doesn't come back to a Zoro filled with bullet holes from his wife. Mihawk is sure she wouldn't kill him but he'd probably almost die again so off he goes with them.

"You have a lot of gall trading sides like that." Rayleigh says, almost teasingly to Mihawk.

"He dates my son and has been for some years. I'd say it was rather tasteless of you and the other members of the former Roger Pirates aside from Shanks and Buggy of all people to not step in and help." Mihawk says smoothly. Rayleigh blinks at him as Zoro grumbles about the clown and Luffy says he's lame.

"Oh, I should probably let B know I'm alive. Chances are he knows and I'm on my way back because of his network." Ace mumbles.

"His what?" Zoro and Rayleigh ask.

"You guys really think he would be that useless?" Ace yells at them.

"Well, yeah, he's lame." Luffy says while picking his nose.

"I've only heard rumors of it, a lot of information brokers use him to gauge rookies from the East Blue as well as the Revolutionary Army for their routes if I'm not mistaken." Mihawk nods.

"Wait, you have a son?" Rayleigh asks and claps Mihawk on the shoulder. "I remember when you challenged Roger and got your ass kicked." He laughs.

"I was eighteen, and I have five children." Mihawk says shrugging Rayleigh's hand off his shoulder. He ignores the balking questions from Rayleigh as Zoro and Ace hug Luffy before they head to the White Beard fleet to drop Ace off with Marco who thanks him.

"Just so you're aware whenever you inevitably meet Sanji I would appreciate it if the entire fleet did not give him a shovel talk. Ace was only told to be afraid of my wife in regards to dying." Mihawk says and Marco laughs.

"Sorry, someone married you? And had kids with you? Fuck, she would be terrifying. I think that's something we can handle." Marco nods as he ruffles Ace's hair.

"Well, I basically adopted them and then married their mother." Mihawk explains.

"They all look the same, except they have different colored hair. Sanji's eyebrows curl differently though." Ace says.

"Okay, buddy, go find something to eat." Marco says as Ace bows to them and leaves. "Okay so tell me about your wife? Does Shanks know? Does the government? How did this happen?" Marco rattles off.

"Goodbye, Marco." Mihawk says as he and Zoro leave.

When the two years are up Ace joins the crew and Sanji and Ace have their own room on the Sunny. Sabo in Dressrosa asks about them after getting punched in the face by Luffy and the stomach by Ace. Luffy excitedly tells Sabo Ace is dating Sanji and Sanji's family is so cool because his dad is Mihawk and all his siblings look just like him almost! Sabo is staring at Ace, not blinking as Luffy rattles all this off. Ace shrugs sheepishly and says they've been dating five years at that point which makes Sabo yell at him and Ace yell back.

when WCI rolls around Ace goes with. He thinks Pudding is fine but he and Sanji have been dating, albeit long distance until recently but the cook also never mentioned his family. Never. So when he sees the fight and Sanji "breaking up" with him he's pissed because he knows Sanji doesn't want to be doing this.

Of course on the way out Judge is yelling at Sanji about the best parts of him being failures and he should have followed suit with his mother and siblings and die. Sanji knows they aren't dead. He knows it but he keeps his fucking mouth shut and holds Ace back as Luffy asks why he started listing all of Sanji's good qualities and if he knows about his family. Judge demands to know what he means by that and Sanji says he'll find out soon enough.

And then a very big poster sized wanted poster comes out on the way to Wano. A family photo of Mihawk, Sora, and the kids and their individual bounties, close up photos(a decent one of Sanji too)comes out of the paper, as well as the rescue team's updated bounties.

When they eventually all go to Karai Bari because Sanji still has a separate bounty from his family the Wano team doesn't know and most of the rescue team have seemingly forgotten. So the amount of screaming is absurd to Crocodile and Mihawk but Ace is hugging Buggy and calling him Uncle B as Buggy keeps asking him if he's eating properly, how is Marco, keeps telling him where Richie is. Then Ace pulls Sanji over and introduces him as his boyfriend. 0124 look at them, then the clown, and then their parents.

"Did you already forget who my parents are?" Sanji deadpans to Ace.

"Wow, they really do all look alike." Chopper says as he looks over the kids.

"I should hope so, the boys are quadruplets. Reiju is only a few years older than them." Sora laughs.

"I'm sorry, what? Quadruplets?" Usopp asks.

"Yeah! Our mom drank poison so that Judge's experiments failed kind of, mostly Sanji failed and then the rest of us are really hard to kill." Yonji says.

"Huh?" Buggy and Ace ask.

"Check this out!" Yonji yells.

"How did it go in Tottoland?" Sora asks as Yonji shoots his hands away, Ichiji fires lasers from his eyes and Niji jokingly shocks Luffy since he's rubber.

"I think Judge got killed by Big Mom." Sanji says. "Awful otherwise."

"Well that's one less thing to worry about." Mihawk says

58 notes · View notes

elfy-elf-imagines · 10 months

Text

— Out of the Woods | Maedhros *✧･ﾟ

▹ Pairing: Maedhros x Reader

▹ Genre: Fluff and Angst

▹ Words: ~8k

▹ Summary: Thrust into the world of Arda, you find yourself enraptured by the elven lord Maedhros. Yet nothing is ever easy in times of war as your love story unfolds and then unravels.

▹ Notes: Hi, hello, this is about 6k words longer than I intended. Oh well. This is a rewrite of a oneshot I wrote yearsssss ago, but thought it deserved a rewrite. I hope you guys like this because I deleted the original. You have no choice, YOU WILL LIKE THIS MORE. Please tell me you like it, I crave validation. Jk, jk...unless.

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ

Golden.

Glittering and gleaming.

Opulent in an understated way and all too beautiful to be real.

It was the only way to describe the lavish keep the armored guards escorted you into. Men with delicately pointed ears and unnatural beauty were both your protectors and jailers as they paraded you through the city. You weren’t familiar with your surroundings, never even heard of it. You feel as though a place as beautiful as this would be pasted on every tourist’s brochure and dream board. And yet there was nothing familiar.

Even the people seemed so different from you.

“You have brought a mortal woman before me; why is that?” his voice boomed as he sat straight back and stiff as a board on a lavish throne. You were speaking with the presiding ruler if the golden crown atop his head was anything to go by. He was tall and regal, only made taller by the raised platform his throne was built upon, his figure looming over you with an intimidating presence.

His hair was like fire, falling in perfect waves that reached the middle of his back. His skin was porcelain and perfection, clear of any slight imperfections or marks that marred your own. He wore formal attire made from silk, with details of glittering gems that made him look like a sun. The heavy crown resting up his head was made of pure gold and dotted with jewels, each worth more than you’d ever make in a lifetime. But what captured your eyes were his own. Light green, they shone like the reflection of emerald leaves off a crystal clear lake. No poem or ballad could ever capture the beauty he possessed.

He was ethereal, the poster child for what a king should be.

One of the guards pushed you forward, and you nearly stumbled to the ground, but you’d caught yourself in time. You looked up at him, not even knowing his name yet and already being enraptured by him. A god, that’s what he has to be. There’s no other way he could look like that.

You must’ve died and now stand at the gates of heaven. In your current situation, the most illogical answer has become the only one that made any sense.

“T-they found me, your grace, in the...woods.” He raised an eyebrow at you, and your face flushed hotly as red stained your face. Did you address him adequately? Was there any correct way to address a literal angel?

His gaze on you was sharp, making you shrink within yourself. His hair may have been made of fire, but he was entirely crafted from ice. Cold, biting, and bitter, you were surprised your skin wasn’t frostbitten.

“She was rambling like a mad woman when we found her. Despite that, she seems harmless. We thought it best to present her for your judgment, your grace.” The guard spoke with a smooth and even tone, able to look at the elven man unflinchingly. Does one become accustomed to staring at the sun? They must if the guards can directly look at him.

“And so you deign to bring the mad woman before your lord?”

“Times are strange. She may be a gift from the Valar.”

A hush fell over the onlookers before a flurry of whispers filled the courtroom. The lord returned his attention to you, raising a single, inquisitive brow. He was assessing you, determining if there could be any truth to the guard’s words. It made you squirm under the weight of his eyes. They were too piercing and too invasive. He could see past your soul. Your deepest fears and thoughts were laid before him.

“Perhaps there is some merit to the words my guard speaks,” There was a lilt of amusement in his otherwise smooth, dulce voice. It nearly seemed mocking, the way he looked down on you. He leaned to the left side of his chair with his knuckles tucked under his sharp jaw, momentarily taking a more relaxed posture. Yet his gaze on you didn’t lighten; if anything, it became heavier.

“Have you been sent to us by the Gods?”

The throne room became quiet once more.

Your heart hammered against your chest, a lump stuck in your throat. All eyes were on you, the undivided attention making you want to curl in on yourself.

“I don’t know.” You mustered up the strength to speak, attempting to keep the fear drowning you out of your voice. Would he cast you out of the kingdom, leaving you to fend for yourself? You couldn’t survive in the woods alone, but you didn’t want to lie and be heralded as a sign of divine intervention.

You were stuck between a rock and a hard place, the room’s walls closing in on you.

All there was to be done was hope he was as kind as fair.

He hummed in response, neither angry nor pleased. There was no grand statement or judgment, instead, he continued to inspect every detail of you. His eyes scanned you up and down in an almost clinical manner like you were a new art exhibit in his favorite museum. He took notice of your odd clothes, maintained teeth, and healthy hair. Strange for a human in these lands to be so… well groomed. Even with the mud that caked your body, you were cleaner than the other humans before you.

“You place me in a strange place. If I send you away, it may anger the Gods, yet if I allow you to stay, I may be dooming the very people who’ve put their belief in me.” He spoke in such a calm tone as if the fate of your life didn’t rest in his long fingers, each embellished with a ring.

The anxiety made your body weigh a thousand pounds. You weren’t even sure your heart was beating, the impulse to check your pulse growing stronger. There was worry in your eyes, creases above your brows that were pulled together tightly.

Yet you didn’t speak, unable to make your tongue form words.

“Will you not plead your cause to me?” He leaned forward; both brows pulled upward, an almost challenging smirk pulling on his lips.

Rendered speechless and playing the fool, you opened and closed your mouth as you tried to remember how to speak.

He clicked his tongue against his teeth, leaning back into his seat, his smirk pulling back into a nearly disappointed frown.

“Very well. I shall make the decision for you.”

You prepared to be condemned to the wilds, thrown to the wolves who would surely tear you apart. Head lowered, eyes counting the reflections of sunlight inside the room. Tears threatened to fall, but you forced them away. You would face your imminent death with pride.

“You will stay here.

Gasps of surprise filled the room, followed by mutters of the courtesans. You made no such noise, head snapping up to meet the elven lord’s gaze. There was surprise evident in your wide-eyed gaze. You’d expected the worst, yet that was not what you’d been given.

“In time, we will learn if the Gods truly sent you to us.”

He nodded at the guards around you, and they helped you stand. Shaking and nervous, the guards held your body up as they guided you from the throne room to what would become your quarters. But over your shoulder, you spared one last glance at the elven lord, his green eyes watching your form disappear.

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ

“Sinome maruvan ar Hildinyar--” You stumbled over the elvish text, unable to translate the rest of the sentence. There was a crease above your furrowed brows and a slight frown on your face.

It had only been two months since you were unceremoniously dropped here, yet it felt as if no time had passed, but not in a good way. You were like a newborn babe, stumbling in the dark as you attempted to gain your bearings. The faint throb in your head warned you of a headache, encouraging you to put the book down. A warning you didn't heed, you were stubborn, determined to prove you could assimilate.

The court has been a dizzying experience to get accustomed to. Most courtesans treated you like a curiosity, a pretty bird for them to teach silly words and feed salted crackers. They were nice enough and greeted you with pleasant smiles, but it all felt patronizing. As if you were nothing but a simpleton child, but perhaps that’s just how they viewed you; elves were immortal, after all. Nevertheless, they have treated you kinder than expected, correcting your choppy Quenya with lyrical giggles and coy smiles.

The giant oak doors swung open, startling you. Looking up, you watched as Maedhros swept through the library. He grabbed a few books from the shelves and went to a table opposite the room. His hair was pulled back into a loose braid, and his clothes were more casual than what he would don at court. Your eyes followed his form, only looking down when he briefly looked up from his book.

Heat flared to your cheeks, eyes returning to the book before you. You haven’t spoken with him since your initial meeting. He’d never invited conversation, and you were too terrified to do so. Instead, you stole glances at him whenever the moment presented itself, content to daydream about the Maedhros turning his eyes to you.

He’d say hello, inquiring about your stay in Himring. You’d answer him shyly, looking up at him through your lashes. So enchanted by your beauty and quiet whit as the conversation continued, he’d invite you to take a stroll with him around the gardens and then--

Your daydreams were cut short by the loud thump of a book falling. Turning, you watched as one of the library attendants scurried towards the fallen three or so books. A soft sigh left your mouth, and your attention returned to the book you were struggling through.

Picking up where you left off, you struggled through the same sentence. No matter how many times you re-read it, the translation wasn’t clicking. What did tenn’ mean again? A grunt escaped your mouth, the pulsing headache returning. You shut the book, perhaps harder than necessary, and opted to fiddle with the bracelets you wore.

Was it even worth struggling through this silly language? Surely you’d return home sooner or later and this grand delusion would be broken.

Yet the longer you’d spent here, the less likely the prospect seemed. You poured over every map and searched every geographical book, and nothing seemed familiar to the home you’d known.

Lost in your mind, you didn’t hear the scratch of a chair being pushed back nor the light padding of footsteps approaching your table. Only when you felt someone’s presence beside you and red hair loosely hanging did you look up? Maedhros had stood beside you, leaned over to be at eye level with you. His expression was perfectly neutral, not portraying a single thought in his head. Tucked behind his back was his left hand, which he’d lost many years ago. There were whispers in court about how it happened, being hung from a cliff for thirty years. How terrible that must’ve been.

“You seem frustrated.” His common was not as smooth as his elvish, yet speaking a common language with someone was nice. Most of the elves here only spoke their native tongue.

“It’s nothing, your grace,” you looked away from his gaze that was entirely too invasive. You didn’t want to risk that he really could read your thoughts; you didn’t want him to see how often they lingered on him.

“Your lie would be convincing if you hadn’t spent the past hour stuck on the same page,” he breezily replied, pulling up a chair to sit beside you.

Has an hour already passed?

And how did he know you hadn’t flipped pages? Had he paid that much attention…?

“Some words are confusing in their translations; no need to be concerned.” You didn’t want him to burden himself with such a silly thing. This wasn’t something a lord needed to concern himself with. There was also a flush of embarrassment creeping up on you. You wanted him to see you as competent and intelligent, not fumbling over simple translations.

“Allow me to offer insight. It is my native tongue, after all.”

You stared at him for a moment, lips pursed. His expression never wavered, and you couldn’t think of any reason to dissuade him from helping you. Apprehensive, you grabbed the book you’d previously pushed away. There was a light shake in your body from nerves, and you prayed to whatever god there was that Maedhros wouldn’t notice.

Flipping through the page, more delicate with it than usual to avoid Maedhros thinking you disrespectful, you pause on the last page you’d read. You point at the sentence you were struggling with and push the book toward Maedhros.

He leaned forward to read the sentence, and you took the opportunity to appreciate his side profile. His facial structure was sharp, with a tall, noble nose and a strong jawline. Pristine and void of imperfections, he was even more beautiful this close up. With each breath taken, the warm, heady cologne was enough to send you into a dizzy spell. It wasn’t fair for one person to be so…perfect.

He whispered the sentence under his breath, then straightened his posture. As he did, you moved your eyes from his face, looking at the book as if that was where your eyes always were. His eyes met yours as he began to speak.

“Sinome maruvan ar Hildinyar tenn' Ambar-metta.”

You mimicked his pronunciation, awkwardly fumbling over the words as you did. The faint whisper of a smile appeared on his lips. However, as soon as it was there, it was gone.

“Do you know what it means?”

“No, I was having trouble translating.”

This time he allowed his lips to turn upward into a faint smile, eyes glimmering in the dim lighting of the room.

“It’s no wonder. This is in Sindarin. My understanding is you’ve been learning Quenya.” He reached over and grabbed the book, pulling it closer to him.

“What’s the difference?”

“Quenya is an older dialect, though many of the Noldar still use it, whereas Sindarin is a newer version of the Eldar language.”

You didn’t respond, simply nodding your head as you fiddled with the fabric of your dress. Maedhros closed the book much more gently than you initially did, though he made no move to stand.

“I apologize; I have yet to inquire about your stay here. Have you found the accommodations to your liking?”

His question was nearly word for word what you fantasized he would say to you. Was he teasing you? Could he truly read your every thought, or was it just a coincidence?

“They’ve been great, better than I could’ve hoped.” You were nervous, so nervous it wasn’t even a joke anymore. Why couldn’t you just be normal?

“And how do you find yourself settling in?” He seemed so relaxed and at ease; why can’t you be more like that.

“I’m getting accustomed, but it’s all so different from the home I knew. I will admit, it is refreshing to speak with someone in a language I am familiar with.”

Maedhros pauses, slightly tilting his head to the side, something flashing across his face.

“Forgive me; I did not think about how few people share a common language with you.”

You shook your head once again afraid of accidentally offending him. “It’s no issue; if anything, it forces my Quenyan to improve.” You wanted to be reassuring, to show that you were more than comfortable with your current circumstances. The last thing you needed was the king thinking you were being difficult or ungrateful.

“But it must be frustrating not being able to convey your thoughts clearly.”

You merely shrugged in response. It was, and sometimes it made you want to scream and break something, but you couldn’t admit that. You didn’t want to seem ungrateful.

Maedhros hummed in response and pushed his chair back, now standing at full height.

“I must part from you, but perhaps we could meet here again tomorrow, if only so I may offer my translating abilities.”

A tentative smile appeared on your face, and you nodded in agreement. Maedhros tilted his head in a slight nod and turned, exiting the room with a flourish.

Only once you were left alone did you let a high and girlish giggle leave your mouth. It echoed in the quiet library, and unbeknownst to you, Maedhros heard it on the other side of the door.

And so a new tradition began as you and Maedhros met in the library every evening. You’d spend hours with one another, and within the first week, the excuse of studying linguistics had been forgotten. Enraptured in the presence of one another, you were both entirely unaware of the impending war.

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ

You were waiting by the gardens.

Wearing a new dress, fiddling with the bracelets that adorned your wrists. You were so nervous yet equally excited. Maedhros had broken tradition, and instead of meeting you in the library, he asked to meet you near the gardens.

Your heart was in your throat; nervous goosebumps were all over your skin. It was truly as if all of your fantasies had come to life. Light footsteps echoed on the marbled flooring, and it made you turn. Maedhros, your intended partner, walked towards you, taking long strides.

A smile was placed on your lips, and Maedhros matched it. Long ago had he shed the detached demeanor he so often presented to the rest of the world. Instead, he was open with his emotions - both good and bad - allowing himself to be vulnerable with you in a way so few people have witnessed.

“You came,” he spoke as he closed the distance separating the two of you.

“How could I refuse?” Your smile widened, eyes in the shape of crescent moons. He laughed, low and smooth, offering his arm to you. Your hand wrapped around the crook of his arm, and it fits as if your hand was met for his.

“Shall we?”

You motioned with your hand towards the gardens. “We shall.”

The two of you walked in near perfect sync, wandering through the gardens, making quiet conversation with explosive banter. He was not as stern and rigid as he once appeared. With the moonlight reflected in his eyes and the stars making him shine, he seemed more like an innocent child than a hardened warrior burdened with war and trauma.

You wanted to see this side of him every moment of every day. To see his eyes resemble glass and to hear his hearty chuckle as he threw his head back. Eventually, you gave up the guise of being interested in the flowers, even though they were quite beautiful. All your attention was focused on Maedhros, a sight you were determined to imprint in your brain.

If you were to wake up tomorrow, back in your old bed, in your old apartment, you’d be happy to remember this moment and this moment only. You’d dedicate the rest of your life to writing poems about him, painting portraits, and writing overly embellished love stories. Anything to commemorate Maedhros and everything you’d wanted with him. Even if he didn’t return your affections quite as fiercely.

“Tell me about your home. You never speak of it.”

Your expression fell, your smile dimmed, and your eyes downturned. Home. You hadn’t really thought of it as much. It used to be a constant thought, a thing you wished on every falling star to return to. But now… You couldn’t remember the last time you made that wish.

“It’s…different.” You fumbled over your words. How do you explain something you yourself hardly understand?

“In what way?” Maedhros pries, wanting to know more information. You’d be flattered in any circumstance or with any different topic. Yet the subject of home was complicated and one you hadn’t dared to broach with anyone.

“In every way.” A breezy laugh escaped your mouth, hoping to distract how tense you suddenly became.

“I’d like to hear it all if you’d be willing to tell me.”

“I--” You stuttered over the words, a lump caught in your throat. You wanted to tell Maedhros to bear your entire soul to him, but an inkling of fear gave you pause. Would he deem you a mad woman? Distancing himself and becoming as aloof as he once was.

Yet the two of you had grown so close as of late, and if you’d ever hoped to be more than friends, it would only be fair, to be honest.

“I don’t think I’m from this time.” You began, unsure of the best way to start.

Maedhros stopped, turning to face you. You nearly stumble but manage to catch yourself, meeting Maedhros’ gaze.

“In what way?”

You swallowed the lump in your throat, pressing your hand into a fist. Fortune favors the bold. You have to be bold if you want this.

“I believe when I was dropped here, I was dropped in the past. My world is so different and so much more advanced in terms of technology.”

He gave you a hard stare, not speaking for a few minutes. The moments of silence dragged on, and you were half tempted to flee and never return. Yet your body had become so heavy, and your feet were bolted to the ground. There would be no escape.

“I don’t know why, but I believe you.” He spoke slowly, as if unsure of his own words as he said them. “At the very least, I believe you believe in what you say, and you have given me no reason to distrust you.”

Your breath that had been caught in your throat was suddenly released as your body slackened. The wide grin you previously wore returned to your face, all the worry lines and creases on your face melting away.

“You have no idea how relieved I am to hear that.” You were breathless, a weight you hadn’t even realized was weighing you down, relieved from your chest.

“I can only imagine how you must’ve felt, how confused you were.” His tone was soft and took a somber note, his eyes closer to an emerald green than the light color they previously were.

“I managed to get by.”

Maedhros nodded, a smile tugging on the edges of his lips.

“Well, please indulge me then, and tell me all the wonders of your home. I’m sure you’ve longed to do as such; you assimilated so quickly, I never would’ve thought you were from a completely different time.”

You stared at him a moment longer, a breath caught in your throat. Yet this time, it wasn’t from nerves or anxiety; no, the pounding in your chest was for an entirely different reason. It had everything to do with the softness in Maedhros’ eyes as he looked at you.

And so you indulged his every question and whim, the two of you wrapping around the garden a million times, talking until the moon was at the highest point in the sky, and all was silent.

You were exhausted, holding back yawns every other sentence, but you pushed through, soaking in the time with Maedhros. Who knew when you’d get another chance? But eventually, he caught on, noticing the droop of your eyes and the lethargic pace you walked with.

He guided you back to your chambers with all the chivalry gone from your world. You expected him to say farewell and give a single nod, as he always did when parting ways. He did bid you farewell, his smile warm and vibrant, and he did dip his head into a nod.

But he also placed a kiss on the very edge of your lips before turning and disappearing down the hall.

Frozen, you stood there for who knew how long, face awestruck and hand resting where his lips previously had been.

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ

Time had seemed nothing more than an illusion.

It seemed to move around you, yet you were the same, unchanged by it. Physically, you may appear the same, yet everything is so entirely…different. Maedhros made quick work of letting you know he intended to court you, and who would you be to deny it.

All the formalities and technicalities that came with courting royalty was dizzying, but Maedhros was always there to center you. Strolls through the gardens and long evenings in the libraries; it made everything more bearable. It was also worth the stiffness that came with court to see the child-like grin that would light up Maedhros’ face when it was just the two of you.

But doubt was a terrible thing.

You constantly feared you wouldn’t live up to not only his expectations, but the expectations of his people. You were a human among elves, and despite not aging, you knew the court talked. Their fascination with you long died out, and anyone who believed you were sent by the Gods was the minority. They hid sharp words behind pretty smiles and musical laughter, but you could see through the fakeness all the same. Their cruel words only helped reinforce the doubts you already had.

And you weren’t the only one weighed down by it.

Maedhros was a far cry from what he used to be. Before the oath, before the torment, and before all the death at the hands of his kin. Could he really be so selfish as to tie you down to him? You were blind to this of course. You knew he suffered from PTSD and trauma, but even as you held him under the light of the moon, you were never aware of just how deep his fears went.

How when he wept in your arms, it wasn’t only for what he suffered, but what he may suffer when you decide you want better. When you finally realized he wasn’t enough for you.

His anxiety twisted into something harsh, manifesting as anger rather than sadness. Yet even as he lashed out, you stayed. Your face would remain perfectly passive, seemingly unbothered by it.

It was another one of those nights.

You both sat on the balcony attached to his chambers, feet dangling over the edge. It was improper for you to be in his bed chambers, especially so late at night, but you couldn’t care about court etiquette at a moment like this.

Your arms were wrapped around Maedhros, keeping him as close to you as physically possible. His head rested in the crook of your neck, eyes shut as his breathing matched the rhythm of your heart. All was quiet except the occasional sniffle from Maedhros. But after a few moments he was the one to break it.

He pulled himself away from you, not an inch of his body touching yours. His relaxed posture suddenly seemed so tense and proper; an austere expression falling over his face. The sudden change was enough to give you whiplash, all the worst of your insecurities coming to head.

A moment passed before Maedhros stood, returning to his chambers. Tentatively, you stood, following after him. What made him suddenly change, as if a light had been switched?

He walked across the room, to the decanter holding a red wine. Maedhros took his time pouring it into a crystal glass before bringing it to his lips and nearly downing it all in one drink. He sent it down and refilled the glass, continuing the same pattern.

The entire time he refused to meet your gaze. Awkwardly you say at the end of his bed, intertwining your fingers in an attempt to distract yourself. It hadn’t worked, all your fears growing the longer Maedhros held the silence. Was it a contest? Was he waiting for you to poke and prod?

“We should dissolve our courtship.”

If you hadn’t already been sitting, you could’ve fallen to your knees. One simple sentence, that was all it took to make the past years come crumbling to nothing.

“What?” Your voice was barely louder than a whisper. “Why?”

Another glass of wine drank and another glass filled before he dared to answer.

“While I have enjoyed your company, I do not believe us suited to continue any further,” he said. Even still, he refused to meet your eyes. His hand gripped the table he stood before, his grip so tight you were half surprised it didn’t crack under the weight of it.

“So that’s it.” Your voice was like stone; hard, cold, and unwavering. “You decide to end our courtship, yet you can’t even look me in the eye as you do it.”

Maedhros didn’t move from his position, you however, stood from the bed.

All the anger and frustration, needling insecurities and self doubt came bubbling to the surface. You didn’t bother to push it down, or rationalize it so much you can’t even feel anymore. It came together in one chaotic concoction and exploded.

“Look at me.” You weren’t shouting, but there was force behind your tone. A warning and a threat all in one. Yet Maedhros still kept his back to you. You took three more steps towards him, nearly behind him.

“I said look at me.” The volume of your voice became louder, the stone facade breaking and cracks of desperation shone through you. You couldn’t understand why he was doing this, you’d thought he loved you the same way you loved him.

Had it all been a mistake, were there signs and clues you’d missed along the way?

Finally Maedhros turned to face you, and within moments all of your anger dissipated. Tears streamed down his cheeks, unshed ones exaggerating his red rimmed eyes. He looked absolutely broken, the worst you’d ever seen him.

“Why are you doing this?” You dropped the facade of nonchalance. Tears began to well in your eyes, a slight waver in your voice as you spoke.

Still he didn’t speak.

You closed the distance separating the two of you, grabbing his hand in yours, but he pushed you away. Still you attempted to grab it again and this time he didn’t bother rejecting your touch.

“Mae please, what is the real reason for this?” You looked up at him like a doe, so wide-eyed and teary. Any shred of conviction he previously held onto crumbled as he looked at your face.

He thought marrying you would be selfish, but perhaps this was the more selfish option?

“You deserve better. I can’t give you what you deserve.”

A crease formed on your forehead as your brows furrowed.

“Fuck it.”

Maedhros blinked, stunned by your brash words. For a moment he thought he might’ve misheard, he’d never heard you speak like that. But it would appear he hadn’t misheard you.

“What?”

“I said, fuck it. I love you, and you love me, and god dammit, if you’re not best for me then I don’t want better.”

You moved one of your hands from his, cupping his chin, forcing Maedhros to meet your gaze, an attempt to show the sincerity in every word spoken.

“I love you, and there’s not a damn thing you can do about it.”

Your words hung in the room, imprinted on the floorboards and the walls.

The Maedhros’ lips were on yours. The kiss was quick and fervent, expressing everything he’d never be able to put into words. All the love and fear that clung to him like a shadow; his entire soul was laid before you. It was dizzying - you were drowning at sea, and Maedhros was your only lifeboat.

You clung to his form, never able to get close enough, one of your hands wrapped around his lithe form while the other reached towards the nape of his neck, gently tugging on his hair. He groaned against your lips and you swallowed the noise, deepening the kiss.

Closer, closer, you needed to be closer.

He pulled you just as tight as you were pulling him, just as desperate if not more so than you were. His one arm wrapped around your waist and held you against his body. His scent was intoxicating, that same heady cologne he’d been wearing when you first spoke in the library. Your teeth clacked against his, but you couldn’t find it in you to care. You needed him to know that every word you’d said, you’d meant.

There wasn’t a universe you wanted to exist in without him.

And while that thought terrified you, you repressed it, opting to deal with it later.

Maedhros needed to know you were all in, and you’d spent the rest of eternity convincing him if need be.

At some point he pulled back, the rise of fall of both of your chest and heavy breathing the only sound in the room.

His hand moved from your waist and into your hair, finger combing through it. There were stars in his eyes that you surely replicated.

“Forgive me, I was being foolish. I don’t want our courtship to end, you’re the woman I want to marry. I never want to leave your side and I promise to never send you away, I swear it.”

A smile, small and delicate, lit up your features as you frantically nodded in response. Maedhros huffed out a laugh, pressing his forehead against yours, muttering elvish endearments against your skin.

You closed your eyes, basking in his presence and the musical sound of his voice.

Oh to freeze this moment and live in it forever.

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ

Everything was silent and calm, but not in a way that would be soothing and leave behind a sense of weightlessness. Instead, it was harsh and grating, mile-high walls building up around you as you subconsciously prepared for...something. Anything that would cause a ripple and disturb this illusion that encased you.

You couldn’t deny it anymore and continue to make excuses for what was so clearly right in front of you. War had brought devastation, and with that came change, and with change came the end of a life you’d built. For so long, Maedhros was able to ignore the Oath he and his brothers had sworn. The Silmarils were forgotten but only for a time. Word had reached Ossiriand that the son of Beren and Luthien had inherited the Silmaril his parents had recovered.

Maedhros, once noble and as bright as the sun, now appeared worn and haggard, his eyes bearing the weight of a consuming madness. Restlessness gnawed at his soul as his insatiable quest for the Silmarils tightened its grip on his heart.

It was only a matter of time before the bubble burst, and you could no longer delude yourself into thinking he was still the same man you fell in love with.

“Maedhros,” you said quietly in hopes of not sparking another argument. “Are you certain this is the wise decision?”

He turned to you, his eyes stern and calculating. It was a stark difference from the love and warmth they used to be lit by. Instead of looking into the sun, you were staring into a fiery furnace.

“It is my duty, as well as my brothers, to honor the Oath we swore to our father. I have no doubt this is the right course of action.” He sounded so detached when he spoke to you. It was the same way he talked to commanding officers and diplomats, not how he should speak to his wife. Not the way he used to talk to you.

The fear you’d felt, the drop of your heart each time you looked into his eyes, intensified. He was teetering on the precipice of madness. You bit your lip, mulling over the right words to keep him from falling off the ledge.

“I understand your quest,” your voice trembled with slight trepidation despite your best efforts to keep it even. “But Maedhros, the toll it’s taking on you…I fear for your well being.”

His eyes bore into yours, a mixture of frustration, impatience, and slight madness evident in his gaze. It made you nearly flinch, but you held your ground.

“You doubt me?” His voice had an edge so sharp it cut you like a knife. It intensified your anxiety, but you swallowed it, steeling yourself against your nerves.

“I don’t doubt your intentions, Maedhros,” she replied, her voice steady now, “but I fear for what this obsession is doing to you.”

Your words seemed to strike a chord within him, his anger momentarily giving way to a flicker of doubt. A moment of clarity within his addled mind. “You think I don’t know the burden I bear?” he murmured, his voice softening now, but the anger still lingered beneath the surface.

“I know, my love,” you replied, much softer this time. You crossed the room’s threshold, gingerly sweeping your knuckles across his cheek. His eyes flutter shut, momentarily allowing your soothing touch to wash over him. “But I can’t bear to see you suffer like this. Your people need you. I need you. Not just as a leader but as a husband too.”

His eyes opened, and the green within them softened as his anger began to wane. Yet the turmoil was still evident within him. He was a man fighting two wars, one war with the forces of Morgoth and the second war within himself.

“It’s not easy for me either, and I curse the day I swore that oath.” His confession made the flicker of hope within you get bigger. Perhaps you’d successfully pulled him from the ledge. “But I cannot turn away from my destiny.”

Just as soon as it appeared, the hope was snuffed out; stubborn and proud, you now cursed what you used to admire about him most.

“But at what cost, Maedhros? The Oath has led to nothing but tragedy and death. You are losing yourself in this darkness, forsaking all that once mattered. Look around you! Our people suffer, our family crumbles, and still, you are blinded by this madness!” Desperate and pleading, you tried to force him to see reason.

As if your touch was made of acid, Maedhros pulled away and sidestepped you, a sea separating you from him. The anger returned to his eyes as they hardened once more. The brief moment of vulnerability was gone, and it was difficult to remember if it had ever even been there, to begin with.

“And for what? For some gems that shine prettily,” you continued; he needed to hear your words, to taste the venom behind them. If he held even an ounce of love for you, he would heed your warning. But your words seemed to fall on deaf ears, lost amidst the blaze of anger that threatened to burn the whole world.

“You know nothing of the weight I carry,” he snapped, his voice cutting through the air like a freshly sharpened sword. “You are my wife, not an advisor; quit constantly questioning me and stand by my side as you were intended to.”

The words caught in your throat faded, replaced with a bitter taste of the last bit of love and hope you held for Maedhros dying. Your eyes fell to the floor; there was nothing left to do. The butterflies he incited within you had turned to ash. Everything the two of you built crumbled, and Maedhros gladly helped, knocking down the pillars it once stood upon.

The Maedhros you loved was long gone; what stood before you now was a shell of the man he once was.

“If that’s the way you feel.” It was all you uttered before exiting the room, leaving Maedhros in the dimly lit room with nothing but anger and regret. He wanted to call out to you, to beg you to stay and reassure you he hadn’t meant it. But the grip of madness was unyielding, and even in the depths of sorrow, it would not relent.

The Silmarils that had once been a beacon of hope now seemed to mock him, and the emptiness in his heart felt like a chasm he could never fill.

In the stillness of the night, as Maedhros lay slumbering, you stole away into vast open fields. Cloaked in the darkness that came with night, you ran, nowhere in particular, just so long as it was as far away from Maedhros. Your heart was heavy with the weight of your decision and the finality of the ending of a love you thought would last forever. Yet the echoes of the argument lingered; his harsh words and austere face were a haunting reminder of what had been lost.

“It’s better this way,” you told yourself.

You would carry the memory of Maedhros until your dying day, praying that he might find solace and release from his Oath. But you couldn’t count on it, and you wouldn’t waste your days hoping he’d change.

“It’s better this way,” you repeated once more.

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ

The warm glow of the sun was waning, warning you of the impending cloak of night.

You stood on the cliffside, staring into the waters below, feet buried in the overgrowth and dirt. The air was cool, and the world was quiet. So serene and perfect that it was hard to believe it was real. You burrowed your feet deeper into the dirt, desperate to ground yourself into reality.

The mellowness of your surroundings eased the grief within your heart. War was over, and the suffering you’d endured was but a distant dream. Residing in the lands of Aman, you could forget your life had been anything other than something full of beautiful poetic prose.

Yet it was hard to let go of all of your pain. But as time passed, it became twisted, no longer the stabbing pain of a needle. It poured from you into a melancholia that you would use to paint all your skies a dark blue. It lingered in the edges of your landscape, blurred in the edges and nearly unseen by anyone except for you.

A soft hum escaped your mouth as you allowed the sound of cascading waves to fall over you. Eyes fluttered shut, the faint mist of water touching your body.

You only opened your eyes once the sound of footsteps was heard. Your posture stiffened, ears sharpening to hone in on the sounds of the intruder. No one dared to intrude upon you, and if they did, it was preemptively planned, never just a sudden visit.

Slowly, you turned, but you were still surprised even though you didn’t know what to expect.

Standing before you, as tall and proud as the day you’d first met, was Maedhros. He was vibrant and real, only a hint of tentative uncertainty marring his neutral expression. He stopped a few paces away, silent as you took him in. Framed by the soft glow of the golden rays of sunlight, he was just as you remembered him, yet with an unmistakable touch of time.

It wasn’t in the traditional ways of humans; there were no wrinkles and lines imprinted on his face. It was all in the eyes, the centuries of wisdom, pain, and suffering making them heavier than they once were.

He’d died. You knew that. He cast himself into the fire alongside his brother when he could no longer possess the Silmarils. It was said they burned him upon contact and it was a fate too terrible for him to live. You’d wept for days on end upon learning his fate.

And yet here he was, as real as the day you’d met.

“Maedhros.” His name hung in the air as if you were unsure it was truly him. He simply nodded, an affirmation that he was really here, standing before you.

Silence stretched between the two of you, your eyes locked in a gaze that spoke the words your lips couldn’t find. There was a tempest of emotions within you - joy, relief, curiosity, and a lingering sense of hurt you couldn’t fully let go of.

And then, like the first rays of sunrise, a smile graced Maedhros’ lips, and it was as if the years spent separated vanished. The arguments disappeared with them, leaving only an overwhelming happiness to see him standing before you. Your strides were sure as you stepped towards Maedhros, and he helped to close the gap, your arms weaving around his body as you embraced him for the first time in years.

He smelled just how you’d remembered, and you buried your face into his chest, determined to remember how his arm felt around your waist.

“Is it really you?” you whispered, your voice trembling with a mix of disbelief and delight.

You felt the rumble of Maedhros’ slight laughter as he nodded his head. “ Yes, it’s me, my love.”

You pulled back slightly, just enough that you could see his face but close enough that you could feel the warmth he radiated. “I- I can’t believe it; how is this even possible?” You were nearly out of breath as you spoke, eyes searching for answers within his.

“A twist of fate, I suppose. I was released from the Halls of Mandos, my time of repentance done.” A hint of a smile tugged at the corner of his lips, his grip on you tightening. “I should have listened to you the night that you left. You were right, and I was just to--”

You cut him off by placing a searing kiss on his lips. His words were forgotten, the long speech he’d probably been preparing since the moment you left cut off. There would be an eternity for forgiveness and apologetic words. Right now, you just wanted to remember how his lips had felt on yours.

He melted into the kiss, his lips just as sweet as you’d remembered them to be. The years melted into oblivion; it was just you and Maedhros, with nothing severing the love you held. The kiss was a mixture of vehement remorse and a promise to never forsake the promise of love he’d made to you. Time slowed as the two of you savored the moment, fully immersed in the warmth of his body and the taste of his lips.

As the sun dipped below the horizon, painting the sky in hues of orange and pink, you and Maedhros stayed tangled in one another. You’d both been given a second chance, something you hadn’t dared to think would be possible. And yet here he was, so intertwined with you it was hard to see where you ended and he began. It was a chance to reignite a love that had never fully died out.

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