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the-infamous-coat-of-baron-zemo · 3 years

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Fall Into You | Laszlo Kreizler x Reader

Alright my friends. Here is my latest piece of insanity.

It is completely raw and unedited. So, if there are a ton of mistakes, I apologize in advance.

What a whirlwind thing this was. I literally only planned to write the last little bit at the end, that was the entire premise and then 7000 more words came along with it.

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This is a partial crossover fic.

TFATWS | The Alienist | Dr. Strange | Loki | universe all mushed together in bits and pieces.

But mostly The Alienist.

Hopefully the characterizations feel okay. Dr. Kreizler and John Moore can be a bit tricky to write and I've never written them before. So, please bear with me on this.

Buckle up. It's going to be a doozy. Kinda.

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Word Count: 6,900 - ish

What happens when you wind up 124 years into the past and meet a relative of Baron Helmut Zemo's?

A lot.

OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO

It was early evening and you were perched on one of Dr. Kreizler's fine couches, in front of the fireplace, reading a book.

You were waiting for Stevie to drop by and drag you to some musical street performance not terribly far from Dr. Kreizler's residence. Normally, you would have stayed hidden indoors, but you took a liking to the kid when you first met him, and decided you couldn't let him down.

Hopefully Stevie wouldn't drag you out too long, otherwise Dr. Kreizler would start to worry. Although, he would never outright admit to it, but it was the subtle things he did that indicated his concern. Or perhaps it was annoyance. That wouldn't surprise you either. You were loud and very talkative. He'd probably grateful to have to leave his house; so he can finally get some peace and quiet.

Dr. Kreizler always kept to himself and rarely made a display of his feelings to anyone, but you were a good friend of his in the short time you had come to know him. So, you got little peeks into what lay hidden away.

He was gracious enough to allow you stay in his home until you could figure out a way to get back to your own time. One minute you were talking to Wong inside Dr. Strange's sanctum in New York, and the next a portal opened up underneath you and you were falling.

After travelling through an empty void that seemed to go on forever, you finally exited through the other side, which landed you in front of a police precinct. You had looked around after picking yourself up and realized you were in quite the pickle. It didn't take a genius to figure out that this was not your New York.

People were starting to stare at as you took in your surroundings. You initially thought it was because you had randomly fallen out of the sky, but realization had dawned on you; it was because of your clothing.

Ah, yes. You suppose compared to what all the other women were wearing, you were a sight to behold. Jeans, a forest green blouse, and short brown leather jacket, would draw some attention, when all the other women were dressed so conservatively in dresses. You laughed nervously backing away from the small crowd on the sidewalk. You calmly but quickly darted over to a newsie holding up a paper for sale.

You paid the kid a dollar and snatched the paper out of his hand. Not paying attention in the least to his shouts of joy on making so much off of one measly paper, but you were too focused on finding out what time period you were in.

You caught the date at the top of the newspaper: April 1st, 1897.

April Fool's Day.

Typical, something like this would happen to you. Joke's on them, as someone is going to have a hell of time trying to figure out where you went. You're quite sure Wong was trying to sort through what happened and had already calling Strange.

Well, you hope he had.

You put down the paper and tried to think of what to do, but a small crowd of people were still stopped and whispering to each other, pointing in your general direction.

One man was gesturing in your direction and started shouting, but not at you.

"Hey Kreizler, this one looks like a crazy. Should probably haul her off to Bellevue!"

You raised your eyebrow at the man, but didn't say anything, instead choosing to turn and see who he was yelling at.

A very well dressed man wearing a bowler hat was walking down the steps of the police precinct in a rushed sort of manner. He had a cane with him, and it appeared his right arm was tucked against his body as if protecting it. A few steps behind him there was another man darting to catch up with him, also well dressed and carrying what seemed to be a sketchbook.

The guy on the street had yelled at the gentleman in the bowler hat again, which you had assumed at this point was Dr. Kreizler. As the two men reached the bottom of the steps and were about to step into their carriage, the incessant yelling had managed to grab Kreizler's attention. At least it seemed so, because the man with the cane had paused and turned his attention towards the direction of the yelling.

You could see from his body language he wasn't all that interested, but when his eye-line landed on you, he backed away from getting inside.

The other gentleman that was accompanying him, the one with the sketchbook, said something to him, but Dr. Kreizler just waved him off as he started to walk over to you.

Great.

You look over to the rude gentleman that had now drawn even more attention to you and gave him an unappreciative stare.

You steeled yourself, ready for whatever this stranger was going to say to you, but your guard had dropped slightly upon getting a better look at his face.

No way.

This was not possible.

The man that had come over to you was the spitting image of one genius, criminal mastermind and general pain in your ass, you knew all too well. One who's currently locked up in The Raft.

If it wasn't for the beard, you'd swear you were looking at Baron Helmut Zemo.

As Dr. Kreizler stopped a few feet from you, he tilted his head to the side and eyed you warily, but not unkindly.

That head tilt, a family trait for sure. Zemo had to be some distant relative of this man in some way, there's no chance they aren't with how closely the two resemble each other. She'd have to make a trip to The Raft and ask him about it sometime, if she ever got back home.

"My dear, you seem out of sorts. Are you alright?" the man inquired, gazing at the small gathering of people and then back to you.

"I kinda stick out like a sore thumb, yeah?" You laughed as you answer his question, peering down at your outfit.

"Quite," he replied.

You saw while he may be cautious around you, you've seem to grab his interest with the scrutiny and intensity of his gaze.

"If I may introduce myself, my name is Doctor Laszlo Kreizler," the gentleman stated.

Ah, so this was indeed the man who was being called out from the street. You noticed he didn't extend his hand in greeting, but then again perhaps it wasn't a pertinent gesture for the time period either. So, you didn't take offense to it.

Your eyeline moved behind Dr. Kreizler and could see his friend at the carriage watching with interest, but also growing impatience.

You gave a kind smile as you introduced yourself and added, "Thank you for humoring the nosy man over there, but I'm not in need of a doctor. I'm terribly sorry for interrupting your day."

"Not in the least. And I may be a doctor, but I am an alienist more specifically," Kreizler explained.

Your eyebrows shot into your forehead and then contemplated his title. An alienist? Where had you heard that before? If you remembered correctly, an alienist was someone who assessed individuals for competence?

Oh.

The shouty man had mentioned Bellevue. Okay, now you understood.

"An alienist! That term is...." you paused trying to think of a better way to phrase you response. "The term is outdated where I'm from. Instead we simply acknowledge your specific doctorate profession as psychologists, since the very definition of what you do is to study the mind and behavior of individuals," you answered, satisfied with your explanation.

"Outdated. How intriguing. Perhaps we could continue this conversation away from prying eyes and gossipy busy-bodies?" Kreizler asked.

You wouldn't be able to read it on his face, but you can tell you've piqued his interest even more so now with his body language. And his eyes had this sparkle in them as you spoke of his profession so specifically.

Though you felt you could trust this man, you couldn't take the chance that he might, in fact, lure you into his carriage and ship you off to the nearest mental institution, such as Bellevue Hospital.

You'd be lying if you weren't equally intrigued by this enigma of a man standing before you. The resemblance to Baron Zemo was uncanny, and that alone made you want to find out more about him; however, Zemo was not to be trusted as far as you could throw him. Though he did have his moments. You'd give him some credit. Doesn't mean distrustful behavior runs in the family, but it also could. It was a difficult decision.

Your eyes narrowed assessing Dr. Kreizler as you came to decision.

"Shouldn't you give me a mental health assessment test before asking a complete stranger to travel off to who knows where with you? Why shouldn't I be suspicious you aren't going to drop me off at the nearest institute? No offense," you replied warily.

"Thank you!" the man with the sketchbook at the carriage shouted at both you and Dr. Kreizler, clearly in agreement with your answer.

You snickered at his sarcastic reply, but attempted to cover your ever growing smile by coughing.

The corner of Dr. Kreizler's mouth ticked up in a smile as well.

"No my dear, if anything you've just proven you're at least slightly more sane than my counterpart, Mr. John Moore," Dr. Kreizler shook his head and jutted his thumb behind him.

"Heard that Laszlo!" Moore responded with indignation.

"That was the point John," Dr. Kreizler answered back with dry wit.

Yeah, she liked him already.

"Shall we?" Kreizler turned slightly to gesture to his carriage.

You sighed internally. Why the hell not? You had nothing better to do and no idea what your next move should be trying to get home. Dr. Kreizler would no doubt be curious about your attire and that alone with most likely bring up a slew of never ending questions. You'd have to be careful how to explain your situation and make sure what you revealed was limited, but truthful. You wanted to tell him the truth about where you were from, but you needed to word it in a way that doesn't make you out to be a crazy person, but present the information with facts and evidence that Dr. Kreizler could not refute. Luckily you had some tech with you that could prove your point rather efficiently should the need arise you convince him of what time period you come from in the future. 124 years it a length period of time. It would be difficult for anyone to accept your explanation, but Dr. Kreizler seemed to be different. Let's hope you aren't wrong about him.

"I accept your offer Dr. Kreizler, thank you," you spoke kindly.

You were formally introduced to Mr. Moore and to Stevie before getting in the carriage. Mr. Moore seemed uneasy, but went along with Dr. Kreizler's acceptance of you. He was a trusting friend of his, you could tell right away. And something told you, Dr. Kreizler was a tough nut to crack and didn't seem to be the type of person who might have very many. Only a close few.

"What made you decide to take Dr. Kreizler up on his offer so quickly," Moore asked standing outside the carriage as Stevie was getting the horses ready.

Dr. Kreizler had held the door open for you and waited patiently.

You looked at Dr. Kreizler before turning back to Mr. Moore, "You mean besides his sparkling personality?" you winked and got in the carriage.

John leaned into Kreizler before adjusting his hold on his sketchbook and climbing into the carriage himself.

"Oh, well I like her already Laszlo," he grinned incessantly and gave Kreizler a clap on the back.

You saw Dr. Kreizler bend his head down in amused exasperation as a small huff of laughter sounded with the movement. He sighed somewhat dramatically before getting in the carriage and closing the door.

"You know, I've never actually ridden in one of these before," you say slightly awed.

Both Moore and Kreizler gave you confusing looks before Dr. Kreizler used his cane to tap on the rear enclosure signaling Stevie to head home.

Home. Well, this should be interesting indeed.

OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO

You closed your book with a snap and slumped into the couch you were perched on. It had been six months, since that day. Six months, you've been trapped in this pocket of 1897.

You had reflected back on how well John and Dr. Kreizler had taken the explanation you were from the future. As you told your story, your only requirement was that they wait until the very end before asking any questions. That gave you the chance to be very methodical about how you explained the future and how it was you ended up in 1897, which to be fair, you don't know exactly how that portal opened still, but magic was involved to say the very least.

It was oddly reminiscent of when Loki used the space stone, which gave her pause. All the infinity stones had been destroyed, and yet you knew that there was an errant 2012 Loki running around the universe with one. It is plausible, he could factor into this, but how or why you, you have no idea.

After you had explained your fanatical circumstance, to help prove you weren't absolutely off your rocker and have Dr. Kreizler change his mind about you, you showed them your phone.

Yes, there may not be any service available, but you could still access all your photos and videos and holographic imagery, etc. That was what allowed John and Dr. Kreizler to accept your story; paired with your unique clothes; they had a surprisingly open mind. John had gaped like a fish for a good 10 minutes before Dr. Kreizler told him to get over it already. John was somewhat outraged that he wasn't more shocked by your existence. But like all things, Dr. Kreizler took everything in stride, which was quite a relief to you. He was incredibly understanding and offered a room in his home to you until you were able to get back to your own time. You made a promise to Dr. Kreizler that you would never lie to him, about anything. It was the least you could do since he opened up his home and essentially part of his life to you.

You understood why he was an expert in his field. His patience and intellect allowed him to be open-minded and grasp concepts others word merely scoff at. However, there was another side to that coin; he was also closed off, and could at times, be calculating and manipulative. Though, none of these traits were used in any nefarious manners, they were there all the same.

He reminded you of Zemo to be sure in this regard. Some personality traits apparently do get passed down through the generations. In some ways, after meeting Dr. Kreizler, you felt you knew Helmut Zemo a bit better. And somehow, you missed him. Not that you were ever particularly close to him, but the time you spent with him in Latvia with Sam and Bucky forever altered your opinion of him.

So while you've been living at Dr. Kreizler's residence, in your spare time, you had been working different avenues of how to achieve ways to get home. You couldn't just solely rely on your friends to get you out of this mess. So, while Dr. Kreizler was at work, you enlisted the help of Stevie to run down leads of potential scientist and gathering of general information of the time period to help you put together some sort of road map. None had turned out to be very promising.

You had, over time, gotten more acclimated to living in 1897, though you mostly refused to wear the clothing of the time period. John Moore would always comment about how you would draw attention in the public eye, should you dare to go out. But you refused to give in most of the time, saying that 1897 would just have to catch up to your fashion sense, and you weren't about to apologize for it. If you were going to be stuck here, you were going to be stuck here, comfortably. You fondly remember Dr. Kreizler's reaction. He seemed pleased, possibly proud of you in that moment. Probably because you had refused to conform to the times, and set your own rules to live by. Not giving in to anyone.

The question lingered, how exactly did you get away with living in this time without having to dress in the clothing of the period? Well, a friend of yours, Scott Lang, had gifted you a device that allowed you to chose one object to shrink and return to it's normal size. So, of course, since you traveled so often with the Sam, Bucky and the other Avengers, you chose your wardrobe. You were just thankful you had it on you already when you got dumped into that portal. So, essentially you had all your clothes with you, making things a bit easier.

Life was not fast paced here, which made things a bit difficult for you. You were used to always being on the go, another crisis to fight through, another area of the world that needed help. But here, here everything was, for the most part, quiet.

It drove you nuts sometimes. Made you antsy. You managed to weasel your way into helping John, Sara and Dr. Kreizler on one of their serial killer cases recently to pass the time. Dr. Kreizler was unhappy at first. You were able to prove your usefulness though with advanced techniques and theories on how to potentially catch the killer in question. Be that as it may, Dr. Kreizler still seemed grumpy, if that were the correct word to use, about you working on the case. You confronted him about it one evening, but he glossed over the whole thing. He was holding back, but what that was, you weren't sure. Maybe he still didn't fully trust you yet. It was a fair assumption, but he was always so hard to read. Though you've managed to get a few good laughs out of him from time to time. Those were the days that really made you smile. Seeing him happy, as most of the time he was always so guarded. It made you feel like you and Dr. Kreizler shared this little secret when no one else was around.

Dr. Kreizler let himself relax ever so slightly around you, but it was far and fleeting. On rare occasions. You savored all those memories and tucked them away. Everyone was so refined and conservative in their mannerisms. You missed just wanting to hug someone. You craved some sort of physical affection, and it was hard, realizing just how different the times were from the future. They weren't terrible by any means, but the social norms of the times had been trying on you, to say the very least. Dr. Kreizler, ever astute, had picked up on this.

He had been gracious enough to offer himself if you ever needed to hug someone. This had been roughly 4 months into your stay at Dr. Kreizler's. You both had gotten more comfortable around the other, and even had a routine of sorts. You had thanked him for his offer, and told him you would not abuse the privilege he had bestowed on you.

Something told her there was more to it, but you hadn't dwelled on it, you were simply appreciative of his friendship.

However more recently, it was more than just friendship you felt. You kept squashing your feelings down, telling yourself this was the worst possible time to develop feelings for someone. Especially someone like Dr. Kreizler. There would never be a happy ending. At some point, you would return home, and that would be that. But there was that nagging sensation in the back of your mind, reminding you, you might not ever get back home. You tried to reason to yourself that you were possibly transferring some of your fondness of Zemo to Dr. Kreizler because of how he reminds you of him. But then you were just lying to yourself. Dr. Kreizler was a person all on his own and one of a kind. You knew better, you were just fighting yourself tooth and nail to live in denial a bit longer.

Footsteps from the kitchen were headed in your direction knocking you out of your musings.

You twisted on the couch to see Dr. Kreizler had returned home from his institute.

"Dr. Kreizler! Good evening," you voiced into the low lit parlor room.

"Good evening to you as well, I trust your day was fruitful?" Dr. Kreizler inquired, coming to rest on the opposite end of the couch.

"It was, thank you. I was somewhat restless earlier, so I took it upon myself to work on the cryptogram the killer left his last victim, with the hopes of figuring out his next location before he strikes," you sheepishly stated.

Dr. Kreizler ruefully smiled at you and shook his head. At one time, he might have gotten upset, but he had been taking your antics more in stride, and you managed to be helpful providing much needed information. So, he'd act unhappy, but silently was thrilled.

"And did you uncover anything useful?" Kreizler queried, he got up from his seat and walked over to the chalk board.

"Not completely, I believe I've broken the code word and the book that the killer has been using to write his cryptograms, but I have yet to comb through all the evidence to gather the page numbers, line and word number to crack the full message. I planned on working on it when I got back with Stevie later this evening," you happily expressed while fidgeting with the watch on your wrist.

"Impressive work. And what book has our killer been using?" Kreizler asked, eyes still going over the work on the board.

"Mary Shelley's Frankenstein. You'd think we could have figured that one out sooner given our killer's eclectic methods of murdering people," you answered sarcastically.

Dr. Kreizler bent his knees in utter annoyance, "Of course it is. Of course. How ridiculous to have missed such an obvious choice."

You smiled knowingly. He was irritated he hadn't figured it out sooner.

A companionable silence continued for a few minutes after his outburst.

Dr. Kreizler was still staring at the board with mild interest when he spoke next, "May I ask you a personal question?"

You had just reached over to place the book on the coffee table next to you when he asked his question and you froze mid motion.

Dr. Kreizler generally didn't push too much into your personal life, so this was somewhat out of left field for him. Never-the-less, you recovered after a beat and placed the book on the table.

"Of-of course Dr. Kreizler. I told you I would always be truthful with you regarding anything. Please, go ahead," you answered, motioning for him to continue.

"Why do you always regard me as Dr. Kreizler and not by my first name?" he questioned softly, almost hesitantly.

This was not the question you thought he would ask. There were a million questions he could have chose, but it was this one he went with.

This really was personal.

You glanced down at your hands sitting in your lap as you pondered how to answer his questions. You could lie about it, and he'd be none the wiser, but it's not who you are. And you promised.

Dr. Kreizler went on to further express his inquiry with a bit more confidence, "You call John Moore by his first name and the same with Ms. Howard, including our other friends we work with, but not me. Why?"

You opened your mouth to answer him when the front door slammed open and Stevie came barging in.

"You ready?" he exclaimed loudly. Stevie was clearly excited at the prospect of showing off his musical talent. "Oh, excuse me Dr. Kreizler, I didn't realize you'd gotten home yet. Thought you were working late," Stevie took off his hat and looked sheepish as he apologized for the disruption in his home.

You sighed. This was your saving grace. You could probably make an excuse and make a run for it with Stevie. You mulled over what to do, battling with the decision.

"Hey Stevie. Nice to see you too! Go on outside, I'll be right there. I just need to put my coat on," you laugh at his enthusiasm.

He nodded at you and dashed back down the hallway and out the door. You could hear one last shout as he exited, "Okay, but don't be too long, we're going to be late!"

Dr. Kreizler gave a look of displeasure at Stevie's unrefined outburst, but didn't say anything as he knows his antics all too well from over the years.

You stood up grabbing Dr. Kreizler's attention.

"Walk me to the door?" you ask, jutting your head in the direction of where your coat hangs.

"Do you plan on providing me with an answer?" he kindly jabbed as he nodded his agreement to follow you out.

You outwardly sighed, trying to figure out how to best answer his question. As you both walked to the front door, you start to answer him.

"Okay, so I address you as Dr. Kreizler 33% of the time, because you deserve the respect that comes with that title. You went to school for many years, and you earned it. So, it's only fair to address you as such," you tell him confidently.

A completely reasonable and partial explanation, you thought.

You both reached the front door, and you grabbed your jacket. Dr. Kreizler, the gentleman that he is, assisted you in putting your coat on. You gave yourself a once over in the mirror, making sure you looked okay before heading out.

You caught Dr. Kreizler staring at you in the mirror as you adjusted a stray hair that had fallen onto your face.

"You look lovely," he quietly voiced.

You turned to face him as he had opened the door for you and stepped outside.

"Thank you," you said, a bit bashful by his sudden compliment.

His expression had gotten softer and his eyes were glowing in the evening lit night.

Your resolve was crumbling even more so now.

"And the other 67%?" Kreizler softly spoke, head cocked to the side.

"Hey - Miss! We need to be going!" Stevie cried.

You turned to Stevie and hollered, "One mo, Stevie! Don't lose your head!"

"I'm sorry I have to go otherwise Stevie is going to have a coronary," you apologized to Dr. Kreizler.

You walked down a few steps, but stopped. You couldn't not answer him.

You go up a step but not completely back to where you where standing in front of Dr. Kreizler. You inhaled a deep breath and exhaled before continuing, looking up to see Dr. Kreizler eyeing you with slight confusion and anticipation with your hesitance to answer his question in full.

"And the other 67% of the time, I call you Dr. Kreizler because..because," you drifted off closing your eyes. You open them again with quiet resolve shining through, finding your confidence. You take another step up to now stand just a foot away from where Dr. Kreizler was.

"Because, I love you Laszlo. And I use your professional title as a barrier, to - to remind myself I have boundaries. It's just easier to separate you this way or well, to keep myself living in denial," you quietly and defeatedly said, laying it all out for him.

You wanted to open your mouth to say something else to him, to let him know it was okay he didn't feel the same way, but you could never quite form the words that needed to come out.

The shock was written clearly on his face. You had completely gob-smacked this man. His eyes had widened considerably and his jaw had gone slack from your answer.

But he never said anything back. You weren't expecting him to.

So instead, you did what you did best. Ran.

"You've got your answer. I-I really have to go now, I'll see you later," you stuttered out, suddenly drained from your revelation.

You took one last glance at Dr. Kreizler before making a mad dash for it with Stevie.

You were gone before Dr. Kreizler recovered from what just happened. And you never got to see the expression on his face after.

OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO

#the alienist #laszlo kreizler #laszlo kreizler x reader #helmut zemo x reader #tfatws #helmut zemo #mcu fic #crossover #my writing

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starstruck-shima · 3 years

Text

The Darknight...Heroes?! (Diluc)

Notes: fem reader, mentions of injury, fighting, and bruises.

Maybe I’ll make a full blown fic of this if it gains interest!

“In which Mondstadt gains itself a new vigilante of the night, even catching the eye of none other than Diluc himself.”

Mondstadt was the home of many things, like the thousand winds that Barbatos brought to its lands. It was also known that like the wind, words travel far, and as dandelion seeds find fresh abodes, so does the ever so growing gossip in the walls of Mondstadt.

Diluc was never one for idle chatter. No, he’d rather not be the one talking--instead, he’s merely a passive person, one who learns from either the networks he has under his grasp, or the chit chat of bar goers when he shows up in the taverns.

Tonight’s topic however, had proved to be quite the rose amongst thorns, as for once, even the ever so silent Diluc had been intrigued by what the people of Mondstadt were sharing beneath hushed whispers.

“Hey, have you heard the rumors?” Initially thinking it was merely something insignificant, Diluc’s attention was suddenly caught by the customer’s second words. “There’s another person fighting monsters at night!”

“Eh?? Other than the darknight hero? Are you sure it isn’t just him?” Diluc wants to scoff at the name that had been slapped onto his nighttime persona. But this was something most noteworthy--it wouldn’t hurt to listen on even further.

“Nah, this is a girl we’re talking about. One of my men were rescued by her!” As the men kept conversing, more and more patrons joined, adding their two cents. Eyewitnesses say that she fights during the night too, and it couldn’t have been the Darknight Hero--their builds and fighting techniques were different. The townspeople called her “Nightwing.”

He’d say it was corny, but compared to “Darknight Hero”... it seems that Mondstadt had a theme going on with cheesy vigilante names.

When he returned to his abode after his shift, he feels an unknown feeling bubble in his chest. A feeling that begs for him to get to the bottom of this.

He didn’t know why--it was none of his business. Yet the ambiguity of this “Nightwing”, and the fact that she was so shrouded in mystery kept bothering him, especially when his informants came back dry. This only drove him to believe that this new vigilante wasn’t just some nobody--she knew how to hide her tracks well. And that was quite unsettling.

It wasn’t long until Kaeya confronted him about the issue as well. Obviously, it wasn’t Diluc. But if so, who was this other person? Who would dare risk their life at night fighting monsters, and for what reason?

Kaeya explains that no one in the knights reminded him of their 2nd Darknight hero (a term Diluc glared at), and that he could freely turn his head away from the knights, opting instead to look at a wider scope. But who else would fit the criteria of a nighttime vigilante, if she had no occupation nor training with the knights and could freely roam around undetected? You’d have to be smart, and in the right occupation to be able to keep up the vigilante work with no suspicion. (Just like him)

Enter you--Mondstadt’s sweetheart bachelorette. Known far and wide to be the talk of the town whenever your deeds of kindness reached the public. A loyal believer of Barbatos, an avid chess player, and from the times Diluc has shared with you, you were most definitely as true as the rumours would say.

But Diluc knew things beyond the surface. He’s seen cracks and double meanings be uttered from your mouth, and he’s seen that look behind your eyes too many times (especially when you conversed with people whose morals did not align with yours in parties). Even mist corollas shed danger despite their beauty.

You became his prime suspect--and it was only a matter of time until he uncovers the truth. In fact, it was as if it was too easy...

It was during an afternoon walk through his vineyards when it happened. When he started to open up a case regarding the abyss order. He didn’t let the slight stiffen of your posture go unnoticed, and as soon as he shot his question to add you to his suspicions, it was as if it all made much more sense. “The Abyss Order... do you dislike them?”

His eyes widened a bit at your response. “I despise them.” You said such bitter words with a smile. Your exterior as Mondstadt’s sweetheart faded for just a bit--and Diluc saw her. Nightwing.

The timing couldn’t be more perfect for him to test his theory out into the field, for as soon as a mere weeks later, out came a declaration from the order, targeted specifically to Mondstadt’s two vigilantes.

The knights were livid, of course. Honestly, it was funny how a repeat of the last time they were on Diluc’s tail happened--yet instead of him having to step in and distract them himself, something peculiar had already moved them away from him. The knights were distracted by the sudden influx of angry hilichurls storming through the fronts of Mondstadt, and it left him an easy entry to where the abyss order would strike--one of the temples near the city. (And on the way there, he noticed some smashed hilichurl camps. So that was why they were angry...)

It was there where he fought the first wave of the Abyss Order with ease, yet you were nowhere to be found. It only irked him more. You weren’t the type to just back out--no, you were smart enough to never get hurt, but you’d never let the Abyss Order get the last laugh. That was a line reserved for you.

He’d never let his agitation get the better of him, but the waves of enemies didn’t seem to stop. it was getting more and more troublesome, and though he’d be able to clear them by himself, he was still human.

Before he could ever succumb to anything however, help reigned from above, and when he saw the other protector of Mondstadt for the first time, he knew it wasn’t just Nightwing. It was you.

And you’re never one to back down nor abandon Mondstadt. (It was scary how it felt like he was staring into a mirror.)

As soon as the fight ended, he finally got to take a good look at the second darknight hero, and lo and behold, he was met with the same kind eyes that held glaciers upon glaciers of depth and secrets. Secrets that the two of you were willing to keep.

“Hello Diluc.”

“Hello (Y/n).”

Ah, so you knew as well. And you knew that he knew. So that was how you planned things out.

It all made sense, somewhat. The way it became so easy to find clues and hints, the way a path was somehow laid out or him--it was all you, strumming a lyre and making him dance along.

Leave the bait out. Test the waters. Then, hook line and sinker. It wasn’t something any ordinary person would do, even with the high risk and reward. No, to be able to pull this off, and to be able to even be able to do this night after night required a mind that knew how the game worked. And you had everything tied around your finger.

#genshin impact #genshin impact x reader #genshin impact headcanons #genshin headcanons #genshin imagines #genshin impact imagines #genshin scenarios #genshin impact scenarios #fem reader #x reader #diluc x reader #diluc ragnvindr #genshin diluc #kaeya alberich #just a cameo though tbh #mayhaps i'll make a part two #diluc x y/n

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falcor-thee-luck-dragon · 4 years

Text

Legolas x elven reader

Requested by @sokkasdarling -took me a lil while to think of smth but can i request a legolas fic pls🥺🥺 so maybe reader rly likes him and its super obvious to aragorn but not to leg man and then when he finds out its all soft and stuff🥺🥺🥺🥺 -

I hope you like this and it’s close to what you wanted, it was fun to write ngl, leggy is such an oblivious softie I love.

You had been traveling along with the Fellowship since your departure from Rivendell not even four weeks ago. But even so, time had not seemed so very long for you anyways. This whole adventure began when Gandalf sent word to your kingdom calling for your aid in an important mission of sorts, as per usual the old wizard was very vague in his brief explanations. But you’ve known him for such a long time that whenever he needs you, it’s usually very important. So you traveled many days to Rivendell where you met up with your other longtime friend Aragorn who has been traveling in the wilds since you last saw him, now looking incredibly less dirty if you may add.

It was a curious thing when you were gathered into a secret meeting where low and behold sat the one ring of all objects to grace your very eyes. Your inquisitive gaze scanned the open room as Lord Elrond spoke of the ring and who would be the one to help destroy it. You sat idly by the young hobbit Frodo, who Gandalf explained was the carrier of the one ring from all the way into the Shire to where he sits now. What a brave little fellow you thought. Directly in front of you from across the room sat Aragorn who was looking at the ring with a troublesome gaze upon his worried features.

It was not until Boromir spoke did you realize the Prince of the Woodland Realm was among you. You didn’t exactly take the time to look at everyone sitting around the half circle when you got here, but your face softened the moment they locked eyes onto the attractive elven prince. You’d never met Legolas before, but you’ve heard about him through Aragorn and Elrond when he decided to vent about the dealings with Legolas’ kingdom. From that very moment you became immensely intrigued and drawn to the silver haired prince. Though your heart did leap when yourself and all of the Fellowship began the long journey to Mordor, you felt relieved and excited to be spending such a long time with Legolas. But as the weeks grew on, your feelings only grew stronger, and one night while on watch with Aragron, as the two of you sat away from the rest of your sleeping companions did you finally break your silence.

“I must confess something to you or I fear it will eventually drive me mad. It concerns the likes of the only other elf among us, which I assume you’ve already guessed.” You begin with a sigh as you glance over to Aragorn for a moment, his eyes soften at this news that has been swirling within your mind for many days.

“What troubles you my friend?”

“My heart grows for the prince in a way that I did not expect. I enjoy his presence, the way he speaks, how he carries himself, his smile...and for that I cannot help it when I keep close to him while we travel.”

“I have noticed your longing eyes upon him, it is sweet.”

“In all my five-thousand years in this land, not once have I ever felt this way towards anyone. I cannot explain it Aragorn, it feels so strange...this feeling for him. So very strange.” Your brow furrows as you look off into the valley, Aragorn lends you a small smile though you don’t see it.

“My dear Y/N, I believe what you are experiencing is called love, well at least in human terms for that matter. I am happy for you, truly.” You turn your uneasy gaze to Aragorn, surprised to find him sharing a small smile with you. You turn your head towards the stars, closing your eyes as you feel a comforting breeze blow through your half braided hair.

“Your words are kind indeed, but I cannot tell if he feels the same in anyway.....that is what scares me.”

“Let him know of your admiration in subtle ways, he should figure it out eventually. I know Legolas, Y/N, he is smart and sharp as the edge of a dagger.”

For the next week you thought hard about your conversation with Aragorn that night, so as the days rolled past and the nights came and went, you stayed at a healthy closeness to the prince and seeked his company in quiet moments when the Fellowship was at rest. To your great astonishment, Legolas deemed you quit comforting and unexpectedly full of good humor as well as kind-hearted and protective over the hobbits. You had more then once caught him staring at you when he thought you weren't looking, it always brought a warm smile to your face. But nothing more was said or done and your painfully obvious attraction towards Legolas was becoming increasingly more entertaining for Aragorn, within the daily trials of continuous walking and watching out for the hobbits and evil creatures alike. He truly felt for you and your internal frustration with these newly intense feelings for someone that you had never felt before. He understood that as an elf, when they fall in love, they fall with all of their heart and soul for whoever graces their path.

The Fellowship had stopped for a small break after a long and tiresome hike up a large rocky hill for the past two hours, you practically had to carry Pippin up the last fifteen minutes of rough trailing just to make sure everyone was together at the top. Not even five peaceful minutes of rest could you have before Merry and Pippin were already forcing you into a game of who can throw a rock the farthest over the cliff. Not one to ever decline such an appealing invitation, you oblige and walk over to the cliff edge while the rest of the Fellowship watches in amusement. You chuck a fist sized rock into oblivion, unbeknownst to you from a spot higher up on the rocky edge, Aragorn has walked over to Legolas, deciding to figure out his elven friends innermost feelings.

“Y/N is a fascinating being isn’t she, I’ve never seen someone so willing to join in on the games of hobbits, her heart is kind, she’s good company.” Starts Aragorn as Legolas shifts his eyes from him and back to you again, the ghost of a smile forming onto his lips.

“I’m actually quite fond of her presence...it has surprised me.”

“Oh?” Wonders Aragorn with a knowing look that’s lost to Legolas as his attention is fixated on you and the two hobbits.

“Yes. I did not expect to enjoy her company so much. Not ever have I met someone so unawares to how truly divine and clever they are...or beautiful.” Explains Legolas as he whispers the last part, its so quite that Aragorn almost misses it but he does not and a small laugh escapes him. Legolas abruptly turns to his friend, his expression a mix of embarrassment and slight dejection.

“I do not laugh at your tellings my friend, if only Y/N new. She would be very pleased to hear this I’m certain.” Replies Aragorn with a nod, Legolas’ brow furrows in deep thought.

“What do you mean?” He questions, confused as to what Aragorn is implying.

“Have you not noticed? She feels much for you in these past weeks of our journey. Y/N has given you a place in her heart, do you understand my meaning now?”

Legolas’ face changes to a new realization as he slowly turns his head to a smiling Aragorn, “Y/N loves me? I thought it was only I who felt that way, how could I have missed it?” He says astonished as his face breaks out into a beaming grin. “She loves me. Y/N loves me. This day has been weary and long, but my heart leaps with this news. I will tell her tonight when we rest for the day, I only hope that she will be just as joyous, even with my lack of a gift.”

“I don’t believe she’ll mind. Just knowing you feel the same should suffice.” Adds Aragorn with a friendly pat to Legolas’ shoulder, he flashes him a quick smile before staring at you adoringly once again.

#legolas x you #legolas x y/n #legolas x reader #lord of the rings x reader #legolas #for our golden boy leggy

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blueberriesandfire · 3 years

Text

To make up for all the salt, I thought I’d post some of my favorite Widojest fics since I spend entirely too much time reading them. (after the cut since it’s gonna be long)

In Progress-

Men of Sense and Silly Women by firbolging

Summary- When Jester is sent away to the country, she meets a bookish young man who is not half as sensible as he seems.

(slowburn regency AU, multichapter)

What Rests Between the Bookends by ukulele_villian

Summary- Bren Ermendrud, a war mage and gifted practitioner of the arcane arts, has been assigned to the podunk town of Felderwin to protect an asset of The Cerberus Assembly. Unbeknownst to his superiors he is using the opportunity to pursue a personal vendetta.

Jester Lavorre, an exile and self-proclaimed high priestess, has decided to settle down on a patch of land outside of Felderwin. There she plans to build the greatest temple the continent has ever seen.

And Veth Brenatto misses the days where religion and politics were distant after thoughts.

(TWs in tags, slowburn AU, multichapter)

Complete-

Easy Enough by whatkindofnameisella

Summary- You can do this. Freckled cheeks are smiling on the other side of the room, feet stilled from a waltz because she is happy, and you can do this. Wars are ending and power is shifting hands and gods are falling to their knees – and she is happy, so you can do this. For her.

She places a hand on his arm and kisses his cheek.

You can’t.

(ep 109 spoilers, angst, Caleb’s POV, one-shot, word count: 1033)

It Looks Better on You by BasicButler

Summary- There are many things that look better on Jester and that is how Caleb knows he wants the world for her. (Basically moments of Caleb being a soft boi and Jester trying to convince him he's a good man).

(fluff, one-shot, word count: 1753)

unterstützen by professortennant

Summary- Carefully, quietly, he listens as the others press her for answers about The Traveler, about her faith, about what it means. Big questions in a too big world and she looks impossibly, heart-wrenchingly small sitting before them amidst the colorful pastel palette of pancakes and scones and pastries, wringing her hands and struggling to give them answers. (Or, Caleb offers comfort to Jester after the M9 questions her about the Traveler. Post-ep for 105.)

(ep 105 spoilers, hurt/comfort, one-shot, word count: 2020)

It’s Almost Spring by notswitzerland

Summary- Caleb reminds her of Babenon. Or: Mornings at the Lavish Chateau are fraught with realizations.

(Marian’s POV, one-shot, word count: 2447)

We Know by funnygirlthatbelle13 and xLoveMx

Summary- Jester and Caleb through the eyes of the Mighty Nein.

(one-shot, word count: 2840)

Blue Eyes by Vexie

Summary- “Are you secretly in love with me?” It was just a joke. Jester was just trying to break the tension, to make everyone laugh. She never expected him to react the way she did. And now she can’t get his stupid blue eyes out of her head. What if Caleb is secretly in love with her?

(one-shot, word count: 3047)

Enchanting Encounters and Burning Passions by TheRoguelock

Summary- An odd book brings a realization to Jester and Caleb...

(one-shot, word count: 3748)

Cat’s Got Your Tongue (and your heart) by Talinor

Summary- Once upon a time, there was a beautiful blue tiefling known far and wide. She was as cunning as she was charming, and despite her tendency for tricks, many sought to court her. None of them caught her interest. Yet they persisted in a wide variety of ways, oblivious to her attempts to ward them off.So she came up with a plan. She announced to her suitors a challenge: she would marry whoever managed to use the key on her cat's collar to unlock her home's front door. Pretty simple, right? Wrong, as her suitors soon found out. The kitty-cat was verrry fast and didn't trust anyone. Every time someone other than her owner tried getting near her, she'd managed to slip and hide away. It'd take someone special to crack the cat's code

(TW- a little blood/violence, AU, one-shot, word count: 6266)

a word I can’t forget by notswitzerland

Summary- Jester wants to be wanted. Caleb wants to know the truth. In the meantime, they dance.

(angst, one-shot, word count: 7864)

Learning to Read by firbolging

Summary- "She was truly something to behold, book on her knee and wonder in her eyes. There was no line between the world and the story she told. There was no line between her own excitement and the children’s rapt attention." In which Caleb owns a bookshop and business is saved by a young woman with blue hair and a paintbrush.

(TWs in tags, fluff, bookstore AU, one-shot, word count: 14616)

In This Sea of Lovers Without Ships by tambuli

Summary- Jester in her wedding dress is radiant, and Caleb feels like his heart is going to tear itself out from his chest. Or, alternatively: Five times someone saw right through Caleb Widogast, one time someone kind of got it but not quite, and one who never did.

(angst, sad ending, one-shot, word count: 10580 )

Rewrite an Ending or Two (For The Girl That I Knew) by tambuli

Summary- Growing stronger each day 'til it finally reminds her / To fight just a little, to bring back the fire in her eyes / That's been gone, but used to be mine Or: In which Jester Lavorre gets the dream wedding, the dream husband, the dream life--only to realize that the thing about dreams is that eventually, you have to wake up.

(fix-it for In This Sea of Lovers Without Ships, angst w/ a happy ending, multichapter, word count: 49128)

#widojest #caleb widogast #jester lavorre #widojest fics #my reccommendations

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unlockthelore · 4 years

Text

Restless Nightly Pursuits

Idly restless through the night, sleep is impossible to find when answers are roaming the palace halls. From the series Affections Touching Across Time on Ao3, and part of the Talking To The Moon fic. For more updates, follow the affections touching across time tag on this blog. For more of this fic, follow the talking to the moon tag.

How could I have not known?

The question was at the forefront of Sesshomaru’s mind as he stormed through the halls, attempting to put as much distance as possible between himself and the study. He could feel Rin’s presence at his back. Hear wood rattling in its frame as the door slid open and her scent — gods, her scent. She always smelt of blossoms and woodlands, ink and paper, the ocean and all its arcane wonders, but beneath it was what he’d been ignorant of.

A child.

Children, if his mother were to be believed.

Girls.

Twins.

And his wife knew, but she deemed him unfit of such knowledge. For how long?

His skin crawled, claws brushing against the palm of his hand as his fingers curled into fists beneath the drape of his sleeves. Gentle words and tender touches to guide her from her studies to the comforts of the bath he’d drawn for her were mottled in the disgusting bitterness soured on his tongue. Poison burned beneath his claws, and the fissures gathered on his heart widened as pain throbbed with every beat. His fur rippled wildly on his shoulder as he drew in a deep breath, forcing the molten touch of his poison away from his claws in order to slide open one of the doors.

Outside.

Fresh air.

He needed to find release before something untoward came forth. Traitorously, his feet led him further from the open flatlands near the forefront of the castle. Terraced land, dipping into a grassy hillside where at the base rested a thicket of trees meandering around a rocky cliffside — The expanse of the ocean was open to behold past the veritable wall of nature, and it was where Sesshomaru intended as he took to the skies.

Distance.

He needed distance from all which lingered behind him, but he couldn’t go far. His wife, the mother of his children, lingered on the grounds, and he would be loath to abandon her.

Abandon Rin?

As quickly as he took to the skies, he landed on the thick and sprawling grassland. Bade himself not to think of the water glistening upon curved blades of grass speaking of the earlier rainfall. How his wife would have buried her toes in the soil and called for him to do the same.

If she is with child, would she not grow ill if —

Sesshomaru clenched his jaw to stifle the surging growl and marched down the hillside, unperturbed by the incline. If he closed his mind for a moment and pretended the trees surrounding him as he stepped into the thickets were that of the forests he used to roam, then perhaps it would ease him. Thoughts of the castle, of the woman who was waiting for him or perhaps searching for him, set aside.

How could he yearn for her as much as he wanted to be upset with her?

Does she not trust me?

Bright-eyed Rin with her wit and smiles, always at his side, assuring him with soft touches and imploring glances. She coaxed him to calm more than once, showedfaith in him to protect her, and later on, entrusted him with her body and soul . Sesshomaru’s eyes shuttered as he turned his head away from the notion of distrust. His wife was loyal to a fault. Even if her very life were in imminent danger, she would put her faith in him just as she had done time and time again.

So why now?

He tried to breathe in, but the air was thick and humid, refusing to slip down his throat, instead clogging and suffocating. What was this feeling? He hated it. Hated this urge to lash out — to question her on why — to see beyond the smiles that constantly blinded him with their beaming radiance .

Will that change once they’re born, or will I—

Sesshomaru drew in a large breath to steady himself. What would she say then? Did she regret this? What they had done, what they had created together? A burning pain cracked at the fissures in his heart, and he turned his head away, forcing the rippling of his fur to cease.

No. She hadn’t said it, he hadn’t felt discontent in her heart, but she’d been hiding this.

Hiding from him.

Regardless of what anyone may claim, Sesshomaru was not born for the sake of an heir.

And his mother knew. He wanted to scoff. Of course she knew. She always knew what others didn’t and kept the information to herself until it suited her needs to reveal it. But this revelation explained much: whyshe was adamant in helping him with affairs, bidding Rin to rest, or insisting that they spend time together. During all that time, he hadn’t noticed a thing.

I expected to find myself weary of being tethered to this helpless and needy being, eventually finding him to be a burden, and kill him when it suited my needs.

Why?

The tip of his boot caught on a root while the other skidded in the grass, jerking him forward. Silver-white hair veiled half-lidded eyes as he stared listlessly at his own shadow. It wasn’t a secret. He knew inuyōkai weren’t always accommodating or wanting of their offspring. His mother’s affections were peculiar, to say the least, while his father’s were occasional. Did Rin find fault in that? The scandalized way in which she gasped, the indignation in her voice — was it out of concern, or did she doubt what he would desire?

Children. Did she think he would abandon them as his father abandoned him?

No matter how desperately he tried to wrap his mind around it and force her away from thought, she would always return, and he would find himself staring into the memory of her eyes, her smile gone and replaced by a sullen thoughtful expression. Brown irises darkened, pupils dilated and dreadfully saddened —

Sesshomaru.

He twitched upright and jerked his entangled foot forward, ripping forth the sunken roots and flinging dirt into the air. His energy crackled. Teeth elongating, then shortening painfully,he tried to keep himself from transforming as he briskly strode through the forest until the sky opened up before him and the cliffside was centimeters from the tips of his boots. From the precipice, he could view the foamy darkened depths crashing against the shore, then receding. His breaths were short; shoulders rising, then falling slowly; red tinging the corners of his quivering, swimming vision. Looking up to the sky, the moon was dreadfully familiar.

Mikazuki.

A crescent moon, just like the one he’d been born with.

What would it be like for them? His daughters. Would they have the same moon as his birth, or would they be without it? Perhaps they would have ears as his half-brother did, or take on their mother’s appearance...

He wouldn’t have known.

Ruefully, his lips pulled back into a sneer, blinking slowly to chase away the stinging heat gathering at the back of his eyes. He wasn’t sure for how long he stood there or when the clouds began to roll across the sky, dimming moonlight washing over him. Left in semi-somnolent darkness, Sesshomaru inhaled , then closed his eyes as the sound of wet grass squelching underfoot accompanied a quiet voice.

“You heard.”

He knew this conversation would come, but he hardly wanted it to ensue.

No, I did.

Knowing would set these bitter feelings aside, yet he couldn’t bring himself to turn and face her. Out of not wanting to show her this side of him or to feel compelled to forget and draw her into his arms.

Answers.

What he needed were answers.

“Did you intend for it not to reach?” Sesshomaru asked, fighting to keep his voice steady.

Rin was quiet for a moment, but when she spoke, her voice was filled with an assurance and stability he envied. “I had to be certain of what I wished to do,” she said.

Sesshomaru bristled at that. What she wished to do. His mother had made it clear that they created life, yet she kept him ignorant. Complacent. And for what? His jaw clenched painfully, fang pressed to the skin of his lip.

“Then it was needed to deceive, Rin?” He asked, barely able to keep the contempt from his voice. “To keep me ignorant of their existence.”

Do you not trust me, Rin?

“What are you saying?”

Sesshomaru blinked, and despite all of his composure, all of his struggling to not look at her, he glanced over his shoulder. Rin was staring at him, her brown eyes narrowed . True, he’d seen her withering glares, brows furrowed as she began to unleash fury upon someone foolish enough to insult her. But it was never directed toward him. Not until today. Rin glared at him scathingly — disbelief, hurt, and anger deadened in chilled, honey brown eyes.

“This isn’t something I can simply be prepared for, it isn’t an eventuality I expected. I never considered being a mother. We never spoke of having children — “

Sesshomaru scoffed, turning on his heel to face her, feeling the venom on his tongue as he spat. “You never asked.”

Rin recoiled, her face crumpling for a second, then she rose , her shoulders tensed and hands balled into fists. “Because I know you…” She trailed off, the words tense, and bit into him for as they left her lips, he saw the sheen in her eyes. “You despise hanyō.”

And there it was. The fact that he’d overlooked this entire time. His wife, his beloved wife who would be the mother of his children was human. Half their child’s blood would be hers, and the other would be his own. A voice, whispering from the distant past, told him it would be disgusting. The proud bloodline of his father’s would be sullied by yet another hanyō, and this time, it would be of his own making.

He wasn’t sure what expression he showed, but Rin’s face fell and her eyes widened, shimmering with unshed tears. Sesshomaru tried to force the air to course through his lungs.

“I had no desire to follow the path of a normal girl,” Rin hissed, stamping her foot in the soil. “No man nor woman I cared for long enough to lay with and consider a family until you began to travel with me again.”

Sesshomaru jerked his head away. He didn’t want to hear that. He’d come to terms with the idea that Rin had loved others. It was within her rights. He made her a promise, but gave her the room to search her heart. To explore what it is she wanted from the world that had denied her the right to live . If he’d come back to the village where they parted ways and found her married with child —

“I’m frightened, Sesshomaru.”

Those words wrenched him from his thoughts, and he tugged his head up. Senses heightened as he became acutely aware of the world around them. There were no threats he could cut to ribbons with his claws or melt to nothing with poison. No. The only threat present was Rin looking at him. Her voice rose above the crashing waves against the rocky cliffside.

“I am scared more than you know,” she seethed, and the hurt cracked at her voice just as the threshold blocking the tears she’d been blinking away began to falter. “You have every right to be angry, I won’t deny you that. But I do not want to do this without you.”

But she would. The words unspoken weren’t a threat. No, they were a promise. Rin was independent of him in both mind and body. She would make her own choices as she deemed fit — as she’d always done — as he once bade her to do. Even in this, with the lives that they created, she would take it into her own hands. Sesshomaru stiffened his jaw, stamping down his turmoil at the scent of her tears.

How could you think to do this without my involvement, Rin? I am always —

“I need to know that you are beside me, that you can set aside this silly prejudice.”

His thoughts spilled from her lips, and he recoiled with such ferocity that his heel clipped a deep crevice in the earth.

“Silly?” He uttered in a tense graven tone, shocked and exasperated at being referred to in that manner.

Rin didn’t seem swayed by his tone or otherwise, her arms folded loosely over her chest. Sesshomaru’s gaze flicked to her wrist where the sleeve of her yukata fell back, exposing smooth skin without the cloth bracers she’d don into battle. He didn’t expect for Rin to take arms against him. Never once had she raised a hand to him, albeit she was adept at making her words sharper than her knives.

“And what would you call it?” She demanded fretfully, a wrinkle in her nose as she tipped her head to one side. The uneven fringe of her bangs darkened the shadows around brown eyes, which were almost glowing in the dim light. “What reason could you have for hating hanyō as you do? You feel they are beneath you? Just as humans are — as I am?”

Before he could think to rein in his tone, Sesshomaru growled. “You are not beneath me.”

How could she say something like that? For a second, the displeased look gave way to one of fleeting affection, and he brieflyyearned for the Rin who smiled at him warmly. Not the incandescent woman who glowered at him a second later, unapologeticallyerasing the kindly expression of his beloved wife.

“I am an exception then?” She shifted her stance to set her hands upon her waist, and he couldn’t help but notice the way her fingers lingered at her abdomen. “Will your daughters also be an exception, Sesshomaru? How will you justify it to them?”

He almost wanted to say that he did not have to. When they were born, he would protect them with all that he had because they were theirs. Part of them was Rin, and he loved her. That they were hanyō was unavoidable. Why was that not enough for her?

“Where does this stem from, Rin?”

He had to know: whatdrove the wedge between them that she could not speak to him as candidly as she did now? He stared at her, and she looked away. It was enough to loosen his tongue, but he bid himself not to say a word. Give her time. Give her a choice. Even if she seemed keen on taking his own away with nary a word.

After a moment of painfully long silence, resignation flickered across her face. “Inuyasha.”

Sesshomaru scoffed at the name and turned his head away, but Rin wouldn’t allow him to evade thr topic . She hardly ever did. Now, as they stood on the precipice with only the sea behind them and their home before them, there was nowhere for either of them to flee .

“He is the root of all of your hate towards hanyō.”

“This has nothing to do with him.”

“Don’t you dare lie to me, Sesshomaru.”

The image of her displeasure in his mind paled considerably in comparison to the dark, terrible expression marring her face. She flung a hand aside sharply, the grass bending upon the breeze as if answering her call.

“You felt scorn toward your brother for your father’s demise — because he fell protecting him and his mother —”

“He was a fool—”

“He was a father protecting his child,” Rin gestured aggressively to her abdomen, curling her fingers in the silken fabric. “It didn’t matter if Inuyasha’s blood was tainted by humanity, he loved his son. And you hated your brother for so long, enforced this idiotic belief that he was beneath you to wallow in your own pain and justify your actions against him.”

Sesshomaru turned his head away. He didn’t want to hear this. Not from her. Though, when he closed his eyes, he could see Inuyasha and the priestess Kagome as she’d been then. A wide-eyed andterrified teenage girl clinging to his half-brother’s sleeve.

“You used his mother’s image to trick him.”

Inuyasha’s eyes, golden and glazed over, unseeing him but someone else. He couldn’t see past the demoness’ guise. It was according to his plan, a foolish mistake on the hanyō’s part. Sesshomaru suppressed a tick of annoyance at how he referred to his brother then. Inferior, lacking, sentimental.

What he saw was the face of his dearly departed mother. The woman who caused their father’s demise all so that he could live. And what a wretch he’d grown to be.

He isn’t any longer.

Why the Mu-on’na protected him, Sesshomaru couldn’t understand at the time , but the pain in Inuyasha’s eyes when their gazes met — he felt satisfaction.

Now, it was a acrid memory of his failures in the pursuit of what would have never been his. Slowly, he met Rin’s eyes . Her shoulders undulated heavily, and the smell of tears had only grown stronger. Pain. She was in pain.

I am the cause.

No, this started with her deceit. Hadn’t it?

“Are you my judge then?” Sesshomaru questioned in a low tone, almost lost to the night with how airy and light his voice had become. “Is this your punishment — to withhold this from me? Shame me?”

He could see them before, but now as the clouds rolled past, moonlight spilled into their small pocket of the world and glistened on streaks of silver tracking down her cheeks. She shook her head slowly, the corners of her lips twitched upward, but there was no mirth to be found. Her eyes were wet, lashes heavy and fluttering shut as she closed her eyes.

“This is my evidence. My evidence of what I need from you…”

His fingers twitched at his side. The urge to reach out and wipe away her tears stilled by her own hand raising to do the deed itself.

“Set aside your prejudice, learn from your mistakes, and be better for it…” Her shaky breaths were beginning to even, and when her hand pulled away, the disheartened woefulness in her eyes was replaced with a fierce assertion. “Because you were wrong.”

The tight grip on her yukata eased. Silk smoothed out with gentle brushes. His gaze transfixed on each sweep of her fingers as if he could see past the tranquil veneer she’d set.

“Because if you raised a hand to these children as you did your own brother, I—”

Sesshomaru’s eyes widened, and Rin’s face fell. Their eyes met, and not a word had to be said. He could feel the intent behind her pause . Her calm mask had cracked, replaced with a horrific and fearful expression. His own facade schooled into neutrality despite the sudden upset at the implication.

“Would you threaten harm to me…” His voice trailed off as he watched her shift from one foot to the other, her gaze falling to her feet. Disbelief crept into his voice as he called out to her. “Rin?”

Her eyes closed. “To protect our daughters?” She started resolutely, a fatigue and sadness engulfing her face as she met his eyes. Her brown almost deepened to a murky black.

“Without question.”

Sesshomaru straightened and this time, when he turned away from her, he didn’t look back. Rin’s footsteps were deafening. Each one guided her further from him to the thicket of trees and beyond to the palace.

Standing alone on the edge, Sesshomaru looked to the crescent moon in the sky.

#inuyasha fandom #sesshorin #sessrin #sesshomaru x rin #fanfiction #my fanfiction #sesshomaru #rin #affections touching across time #talking ot the moon

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christinesficrecs · 4 years

Note

do you have any vampire stiles fic recommendations? :)

Sure!

Strange Days by entanglednow | 3.9K

“I don’t want to talk to Deaton. I don’t want to be another supernatural problem to be dealt with.”

Predator/Prey by someone_who_isnt_me | 19.3K

Stiles is a vampire. Derek’s still the Alpha. And there’s knotting.

Invited Inside by blacktofade | 14.1K

Of all the things to finally bite him, a vampire is truly at the bottom of Stiles’ list.

A Symphony Made In Red by AllTheseSquaresMakeACircle | 89.4K | Explicit

Stiles and Lydia had been attacked the night of their graduation party. Now, they were something else. Something that craved deeply and painfully. Taking no other choice, they ran. Less they hurt those closest to them. Shame that they happened to run straight into a den full of werewolves.

they call kids like us vicious and carved out of stone by standinginanicedress | 20.5K

“Since you’re so sure, what’s the proof that you have that he’s not a vampire?”

Feeling like he’s the only sane person left on planet earth, Derek rolls his eyes heavenward. “First of all, there’s not a mound of dust sitting where he used to be -” he gestures upwards towards the sun like behold, the light, and Scott’s jaw tics, “and second of all, he’s never done anything even remotely suspicious.”

Which is true. The most malicious thing Stiles does is watch television late at night and talk to himself – two things that Scott and Derek can hear crystal clear through the walls of their apartment with their werewolf ears. That being said, neither of them have ever heard Stiles muttering something like who shall I prey upon tonight or I must get my coffin ready for my slumber. The most suspect thing Derek’s over heard over there is the crinkling sound of way too many snack foods.

Silver Only Shines in the Moonlight (And I Rise With My Red Hair) by yourguardianangel | 26.5K

Stiles becomes a member of the rapidly growing Beacon Hills supernatural population, to his own disgust, and along the way he finds out a thing or two about himself and the people he cares about most.

sustain by bleep0bleep | 9.4K

Yes, there’s another person in the lab with them, someone who’s heart is beating steadily, sounding achingly familiar somehow, their blood sweet and cloying.Stiles drops the empty bag and rushes forward, because it can’t possibly be— that scent— who he thinks it is—

Feels Better Biting Down by callunavulgari | 9.7K

“We should have him over for dinner,” Lydia says. She’s inspecting a pair of stilettos, weighing them carefully in one hand. They would look lovely on her and the price tag is nowhere near enough to dissuade her. Beside her, Stiles snorts, shuffling sideways so that a mother and her squalling child can pass by. “That would be sending entirely the wrong message, Lyds.”

She rolls her eyes and passes him the shoe box. “Nonsense. It’s what you do when you wish to court someone.”

“Pretty sure all the rules are different when he knows what we are and may think we’re planning on having him for dinner.”

Take a bite out of life by Nival_Vixen | 3.2K | Mature

Stiles gets infected by vampire blood. According to a really old Russian text, he could become a blood-sucking monster like Bram Stoker's Dracula, an incubus-like blood-sucker who needs blood and sex to survive, or he could literally drain people's souls.

The hour of truth is approaching, as is the full moon. As such, Derek's the only one available to be stuck on Stiles-sitting duty, and is the only one there when Stiles finds out exactly what new piece he's becoming on the chessboard.

Eternity and A Day by Dexterous_Sinistrous | 28.2K

Over 1,000 years ago, the Great War between Vampires and Lycans began. Many are ignorant of how it started, uncertain who to believe now that reading into the past is forbidden.

But most believe it all started with the birth of Derek Hale, the first Lycan, a werewolf capable of retaining his human form. Spared by King Jon as a baby, he is beaten and belittled by Gerard, the most ruthless of the Vampire Coven’s Elders. The one comfort Derek finds in his life is Prince Stiles, son of King Jon.

Stiles and Derek grow up together—two lonely children seeking companionship which slowly evolves into love. Their love is forbidden, separated not only by their status as royal and slave, but as Vampire and Lycan.

When the lovers make a plan to escape—to be together in a land far away from rules and regulations—fate has other plans.

Equilibrium by entanglednow | 3K

It turns out Stiles only gets the awesome, super-strength, vampire powers at night.

#asks #sterek #ficrecs #vampire!stiles #supernatural!stiles #Anonymous

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pendragonfics · 5 years

Text

You Seemed So Happy

Paring: James Buchanan "Bucky" Barnes/Reader

Tags: gender-neutral reader, no pronouns in fic, alternate timeline, canon divergence - after Captain America: Civil War, Avengers Tower, domestic Avengers, Bucky Barnes recovering, Bucky Barnes feels, rain, first kiss, fluff

Summary: A longtime lover of inclement weather, Reader is often seen mucking around in their rain shoes outside. It just so happens that the newcomer to the Avengers Tower, a recovering Bucky Barnes has taken note in them, and their somewhat peculiar habits.

Title comes from this song (recommended listening while reading)

Word Count: 2,411

Current Date: 2019-11-20

Requested By: @karasong

Without a doubt, the best part of any day was checking the weather app. It wasn’t always fruitful in its outcomes, and whenever Thor made his way to the Avengers Tower, you’d be sure to make him change the weather for you. It had gotten to the point where if there was rain forecasted for the week ahead, you’d set your rain jacket and galoshes out in preparation. You’d cancel all plans for days when the rain would roll in.

Luckily, your day job was being a superhero.

By the time that the newest Avenger came to live in the old Stark Tower in New York, everyone else had lost the thrill of teasing you over your adoration over precipitation. And if you were being completely honest, you were glad that they weren’t rubbing it in all the time. You didn’t tease Tony Stark about his love of Judge Judy, or Sam Wilson about his liking of bath bombs. But as soon as your new neighbour to the twelfth floor came in, he was the newest attraction.

James Buchannan ‘Bucky’ Barnes.

With a name like that, he could be many things. You grew up on the other side of the world, it would seem - because before joining the team, you had a) no clue as to who Captain America was, and b) had never heard of the Winter Soldier. Which, you assumed after some context, was James. Wait no, he preferred Bucky. You were still getting used to his many names, among other things.

While you were a morning person of sorts, the only time you ever crossed paths with your new teammate was at the elevator one evening. Not that you were one to objectify openly, but the man - he was sure fresh out some trauma that you were still wrapping your head around, but oh my, was he a looker.

But today, there wasn’t a sign of him at all upstairs. After a movie night with the remaining Avengers, you fell asleep midway through Mama Mia! and woke up on the couch. When whoever’s left are given a budget and told to stay out of trouble when the other half of the team are in Portugal for the latest hero-ing your skillset wasn’t needed for, movie nights become the thing when someone joins you. So far, only Clint joined you when he was able, but that was just because he liked that you only watched movies with closed captions.

It was going to be a normal day.

But then, after stretching, you checked the weather app. And lo and behold, there was the best news of the day: a change in the prediction. Light to moderate rain in the morning, followed by heavy rain in the evening, it said, summarised with the humidity and the other details you didn’t quite care for. At once, you felt your pulse quicken, and you threw yourself from the cramped corner of the couch to the elevator.

Mashing the buttons, you paced the space as the box descended, and as soon as you free from it, you ran to your room and donned the right clothes to explore in the rain. You pulled your hair from your face and brushed haphazardly at your teeth. Washed your face and tossed the clothes you slept in into the hamper. Pulled on the galoshes and your favourite tee shirt and the rain jacket too. You were so happy, you felt your abilities sparkle beneath the palms of your hands, your feet growing light as your happiness translate into partial hovering. Bounding like a kangaroo on the moon, dressed, you rush back to the elevator.

Bucky stood there, also waiting.

He wore black jeans, and boots, and a grey hoodie. They looked like new clothes. Like, they were so new that they hadn’t been washed yet after coming home from the store. As you joined his side, you met Bucky’s eyes. He’d cleaned the dirt that was spread across his face since you last saw him. Not that you had anything against people who wore eyeliner! You’d give him a pointer or two if he wanted to wear it again, that was for sure. And his hair was pulled back into a haphazard ponytail.

“Hi,” you say, beaming.

He blinks. “Hi,” Bucky echoes.

As soon as the elevator comes, you both enter it. As you reach for the button for the roof, your hand brushes alongside his. You’re not sure why, but you feel a little zap! of electricity as you do. Maybe it’s the energy your body is creating from the excitement, or just static from the rain, but Bucky looks at you funny, and presses for the roof.

“I’m headed there too,” you make conversation, poking your hands in your rain jacket pockets. “For some very important business.”

He raises an eyebrow, silent. As the elevator ticks upward, you sway, rocking back and forth on your feet as you wait patiently for the destination. Ever since the roof was refurbished from being Tony Stark’s personal living room to the loft living space - usually used for fancy soirées or stuff like that - you fought to have a little greenhouse outside too, and access to the tip-top of the building. Because of your abilities, and a promise that you weren’t going to go crazy and cultivate fifty types of roses, it was allowed.

As soon as the elevator opened, you waited patiently for Bucky to alight before rushing out. You barely paid him any attention as you made your way to the balcony, and once the doors let you out, you felt your abilities pricking underfoot. At once, you soared up to the top of the Avengers Tower, your rain jacket and boots almost a comical hero-costume as you flew through the rain.

It wasn’t as heavy as you thought it would be, the droplets splashing over your face and head lightly. In your glee, you shot your hands out before you, and without thinking, propelled two bolts of energy from your palms into the sky.

Thankfully, there weren’t any planes in the sky today.

Looping around, you were surely a spectacle to be seen above the Avengers Tower. While the people of New York and beyond America’s borders knew of your existence on the team, you were still a new face that wasn’t as popular an action figure as say, the Black Widow doll. Before returning to the top floor of the tower, you spread your arms wide, as if to embrace the sky, and propelled yourself backwards.

You landed on the top floor, laying softly on the concreted ground. The rain continued to fall around, the droplets gathering on your face to make it run as if they were tears and you were from a Ghibli movie.

“Best day ever,” you grinned to yourself.

---

The next time there’s rain, you’re out in the street, running errands. It’s almost a month later, and the dry spell has gotten to you. Except, unlike any other time when you’d be very thrilled for the rain, you’re carrying groceries back to the Avengers Tower with Steve and Bucky, and don’t want the shopping to get wet. Steve barrels ahead of the both of you, sparing sorry!’s and excuse me!’s to those who he knocks into. You try the same, but it’s no use.

You’re not Captain America.

Bucky loops his gloved hand through the bags you’re carrying and whisks them from your grasp. People move out the way for him and his imposing stature, and you follow him swiftly through the path he carves in the crowds of the New York footpath back to the tower. Once inside, he calls the elevator with his spare elbow and turns to you.

His face is sodden, hair dripping into his eyes like a baptised puppy dog, his clothes soaked through. You’re no better, glad that you wore a jacket over your white shirt so that it isn’t see-through to others’ eyes.

“I thought you liked the rain.” He says as the doors open.

You blink, following him inside. You’ve never heard him say this many syllables except to Steve. You try to hide the shock of it with a shiver, and reply, “I do like the rain. It was just-,” you shiver once more, the movement of the elevator providing the interior with an uncustomary breeze, “-a little unexpected.”

Once the elevator reaches the common area, you both approach the communal kitchen. Steve’s already unpacked his bags and has started to put odds and ends away. As he’s turned to the pantry, he calls over his shoulder, “I’ve got it this time. Thanks for carrying the bags, ________, Buck -,” he beams, and turning, adds, “Why don’t you go get dry?”

You thank him but ask, “You’re wet too, Cap. How about we tag team?”

Steve shrugs. “Thanks, but I don’t feel the cold.” Bucky goes to interject, and the leader of the Avengers adds, “Seriously, I’m good. It’s been a while since you’ve both had a day off. Enjoy the time off.”

Bucky joins you in the elevator, and you return to the level you sleep on. Parting ways upon exit, you only meet up with him again not ten minutes later, when you’re drier. This time, you’ve donned your favourite socks (the ones with avocado’s with faces) and a tee-shirt that Thor gave you (it’s the demi-god’s size, with a print of Thor as Nyan Cat on the front) and of course, your raincoat and boots. Bucky’s in a different all-black set of clothes, and he calls the elevator as you join him at it. Waiting.

“Are you going to the roof?” he asks.

“Yeah,” you nod. A second passes, and you wonder, “are you?”

Bucky nods. There’s a look on his face as you both ride to the roof that you just can’t put your finger on. You don’t have any time to really question what that look is because he turns to you and starts to speak.

“I used to be happy like you are about the rain,” he says. There’s a sigh, barely audible, but you catch it. “I used to be happy…about a lot of things.”

You swallow offhand. Slowly, you gather your words before offering a reply. “I don’t know much about what you went through, before coming to us…but if you like, I can help you.” Bucky looks at you quizzically, and the elevator reveals the top floor of the tower. Stepping out, you correct yourself, “I mean, I can help you with your thing about the rain. Or other stuff. I’m not the most qualified, but I’ll give it a shot if you want.”

He exhales, but it’s then you realise that it’s an attempt at a laugh. You smile at that and move toward the balcony.

“What makes you like the rain?” Bucky asks.

He’s trailing behind. You can see him in the reflection of the glass windows, and as he gazes out, you can see a look there that you recognise. Hesitation.

“I didn’t always like it,” you say. “When I was a kid, the rain freaked me out. It felt weird, like, too much to handle on my skin. But then one day I woke up one day and realised I could shoot energy from my hands, and fly, and I was eight, nine years old?” you scrunch your nose, trying to remember. “Now that is scary. Rain turned into a piece of cake after that, and when I got used to being basically a kid hero, nothing much could really freak me out.”

You look to Bucky. “You don’t have to tell me what’s going on with you, but…” you unlatch the door to the balcony and start to step out. The rain patters down upon your face as you go, but you wait for Bucky to follow. “May I have this dance?”

“Dance?” he echoes.

You grin. “Well, if I’m goof off on the roof with you, buddy, we’re dancing. You know, the kind like-nobody-is-looking?”

Bucky glances behind him and sees you’re alone together. “But you’ll be looking too.”

You close your eyes and hold your hands up as if in surrender, “At a risk to my safety, I will not be looking. Besides! I’m a crappy dancer myself.”

You hear Bucky’s footsteps follow you out, feeling him ghost past you with a slight breeze that follows. Quietly, you turn to where you feel he is, and say, loud enough for J.A.R.V.I.S. to hear, “Play The Horses, Daryl Braithwaite, please.”

You thank Tony Starks’ surround-sound system as you start to sway in your space. As the beat kicks in, you start to move faster, feeling more and more confident. You stomp your feet in the wells of puddles growing underfoot, shaking your arms and chest in a half-hearted shimmy, busting out the tried and true bedroom-only moves. The climax of the song comes, and you feel yourself collide with Bucky -

Your eyes shoot open, shocked, but as you see his face, he’s far from upset. His eyes are wide, yes, but at the corners of his lips, there’s the faintest tug, and your heart jumps, pulse fast. You bite your lip, unsure what to do next, but he takes charge. He places his hands on your shoulders, and almost like you’re slow dancing, Bucky leads you into a swaying movement.

There’s a clap of thunder somewhere off, and in the flash of lightning that follows, you feel his hands tense up. Your move your palms to rest on his, and almost so slow that you didn’t realise it was happening until it was, he closes the distance between you. Just as the last part of the song comes, his lips rest upon yours, parting them, pressing in such a delicate way that your already racing heartbeat skips a beat.

“Oh,” you say, the kiss taking all your wits from you.

No words come when your wits return, nor does Bucky supply them. He threads his fingers in yours and looks out across the city, the rain still cascading over the both of you. However, some words come, and they do so as he turns to you, his eyes bright and full of something that you recognise. “I think I - I think love the rain.”

You squeeze his hand lightly, just as the song ends. “I love the rain too.”

#Bucky Barnes #james bucky barnes #bucky barnes x reader #bucky x reader #bucky barnes/reader #winter soldier x reader #avengers x reader #marvel fanfic #marvel x reader #pendragonfics #chaotic--lovely #gender neutral reader

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worryinglyinnocent · 4 years

Text

Fic: A Friend in Need

AU-gust Day Fifteen: Role Reversal AU Fandom: She-Ra and the Princesses of Power Pairing: Scorfuma

Rated: G

Summary: In another lifetime, Hordak crashed down in Plumeria rather than the Fright Zone. Years later, Scorpia is the one to welcome Perfuma to the rebellion when she defects from the Horde.

A Friend in Need

There had been several moments in Perfuma’s life when she had wondered what would have happened if the Horde had crashed down somewhere other than Plumeria.

There would still have been a Horde invasion across Etheria, obviously, but maybe Perfuma could have avoided it, and gone through her life being the princess of Plumeria as she had been destined to be before a hulking great spaceship had crash-landed in the middle of her home.

Plumerians were pacifists by nature, and they had not fought the Horde when they had first arrived. They had given up the land and the runestone willingly, and in return, Perfuma and her family and all of Plumeria’s citizens had lived. Sure, they’d had to join the Horde, but at least they were all alive.

Perfuma stared at the ceiling of her room, wishing that she could see trees and open skies like she remembered from being just a toddler. She was still Plumerian at heart, still a pacifist, and she had never been able to understand the Horde’s aggressive expansion and assimilation.

She’d never needed to understand it. She’d just needed to go along with it. Perfuma had always been good at going with the flow; she was a follower, not a leader, but it was getting harder and harder. Especially with Adora gone, and now Entrapta gone, and Hordak caught up in his own mind and Catra getting more unstable by the minute.

Perfuma had never liked to fight, but she knew that if she had been ruling when the Horde had crashed in Plumeria, she would have fought to protect her home. The other princesses were fighting to protect theirs, after all. Why shouldn’t she do the same?

Of course, it was slightly harder for her since the Horde was currently comfortably occupying her home, but she could get out, couldn’t she?

Adora had got out, and look at her now, Horde Enemy Number One.

Perfuma sat up. It was time to leave. Time to be a princess and stand up for her home. Well, provided that the other princesses accepted her, of course. She sighed, but she would not let herself be swayed from her decision. Plumeria had suffered for long enough, and it was time for Perfuma to do something about it.

After the initial shock of a Horde soldier casually wandering into rebellion headquarters had died down, Perfuma was surprised at how well the other princesses were treating her. Scorpia was chattering on nineteen to the dozen as she led her through the halls to the hastily prepared ‘cell’ in which she’d be staying whilst they worked out what to do with her.

“Sorry about the mess, we still haven’t moved all the stuff in properly.” Scorpia rounded a corner and only just managed to pull Perfuma out of the way of two guards carrying a large map board between them. “After everything that happened with Angela and then losing Salineas, we decided to move out of Bright Moon here to the Fright Zone, so here we are. Well, I mean, you already knew that because you managed to find us here. Obviously. Anyway, here we are, make yourself at home.”

Scorpia unlocked what was evidently an unused bedroom, the furniture covered in sheets. It was still infinitely nicer than the Horde’s holding cells.

“Yeah, we haven’t really used the castle’s full capacity for years.” Scorpia seemed embarrassed by the shabby surroundings.

“It’s better than my room back in the Horde,” Perfuma said. “It has a window, for a start.”

“I don’t know that I could live without windows.” Scorpia came over to the window beside her and opened it, a warm breeze blowing in off the desert outside, the horizon stretching out over the Fright Zone and into the Crimson Waste beyond. “Although to be honest, I’m not sure if I could live in Plumeria at all. My exoskeleton does not like humidity.”

“It was better when there were more trees.” Perfuma smiled at the distant memory. “It was more humid, of course, but it was so beautiful that you didn’t care.”

“Yeah.” Scorpia sighed. “A lot of people had reservations about moving here – it’s so hot, it’s so dry, it’s so close to the Waste. But it’s home, and I think it’s wonderful.”

“Don’t you think it’s a bit strange that the rebellion has its headquarters in a place called the Fright Zone? That’s definitely more of a Horde designation.”

“I know, right? It’s the perfect disguise! Although I have been thinking about renaming it. My grandfather was all for keeping up the old traditions, scorpions remaining aloof and all that, but I like making friends. Maybe that’s what I’ll call it when all this is over. The Friend Zone.”

Perfuma laughed. No matter what else happened in the wake of her defection, she was certain that she was going to make a firm friend in Scorpia.

Scorpia would admit to not being completely up on all the rules of being part of a rebellion, but she was pretty sure that having a slumber party with a prisoner was generally frowned upon. Still, it was her castle and her spare room that Perfuma was being held in, and Scorpia was more than capable of defending herself should the need arise.

She highly doubted that the need would arise. The entire reason that Perfuma had come to the Fright Zone in the first place was because she wanted to stop fighting against them. Adora always said that Scorpia was too trusting, but Scorpia didn’t want to imagine a life in which she was suspicious of everyone all the time.

Besides, Perfuma was a princess like the rest of them, one who had been ostracised for a long time for events beyond her control. If she was going to help them against the Horde, then they’d do well to treat her nicely, or else she’d just go back to the better devil that she already knew.

To that end, Scorpia had taken Perfuma on a short tour of the Hall of Horrors to meet the family, and now they were eating marshmallows in the spare room. Perfuma had never tasted marshmallows before, and Scorpia wished she’d had a camera to capture her reaction to eating them for the first time for posterity. The sheer wonder on her face was a sight to behold.

That said, she might have to take the marshmallows away from Perfuma soon. If she had any more, she’d be bouncing off the walls.

“So, the Black Garnet gives you your powers?” Perfuma was asking. The Garnet chamber had been included on the whistle-stop tour.

Scorpia nodded. “All of the elemental princesses are linked to the runestones which give us our power. Well, except you, of course. It looks like you’ve never been linked to your runestone back in Plumeria.”

“No. I know where it is and I know what it does, in a way. Entrapta and Hordak were using it to superpower the First Ones’ tech. It’s pretty much the only tree left standing in Plumeria.” Perfuma grabbed another marshmallow. “What do you think my powers would be?”

“Well, you’re an elemental like me, Frosta, Mermista and Glimmer. So, presumably, it would be something elemental. Frosta and Mermista are water, Glimmer is air, I’m fire. You’re probably something earth related. It seems likely, what with Plumeria being full of plants. And your runestone being in a tree. And if you’re a naturally peace-loving people, then making flowers grow seems like the perfect power.”

“Not exactly useful in a fight though.”

“I don’t know. Strangling roots and vines, giant plant monsters. You’d probably be a lot more powerful than you think.”

They fell into silence for a while, the box of marshmallows getting ever emptier.

“Scorpia?”

“Yes?”

“Why are you being so nice to me?”

“Because I don’t want you to regret leaving the Horde and thinking that you were better off with them. And I know that if our positions were reversed, and if the Horde had come down in the Fright Zone instead of Plumeria, and I’d left them to seek the rebellion’s help, I’d want to have a friend here.”

Perfuma smiled. “Thanks for being my friend.”

“Any time.” Scorpia put her arms around Perfuma, who squeaked in surprise but relaxed into the hug readily. “Yeah, I’m a hugger, and I think you could use one.”

Perfuma gave a weak laugh against Scorpia’s chest.

“Everything’s going to be different now, isn’t it?”

“Yeah, probably. But hopefully for the better, right?”

“Yeah.” Perfuma sighed. “You know, scorpions give great hugs.”

“Thank you.”

They stayed like that for a while longer, breaking apart by unspoken mutual agreement.

“I guess you should probably go,” Perfuma said, although she didn’t sound all that happy at the prospect. “Glimmer’s probably thinking that I’ve eaten you or something.”

“Nah, it’s fine. I can stay. If anyone questions it, then I’m making sure you don’t escape. Besides, you don’t want to eat me. The pincers would break your teeth.”

Perfuma giggled, and Scorpia laughed too. She got the feeling that Perfuma would be a welcome addition to the rebellion, in more ways than one.

#SPOP #She-Ra and the Princesses of Power #SPOP fic #Scorpia #Perfuma #role reversal AU #AU-gust #Worry does AU-gust #Fic: A Friend in Need

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helisol · 5 years

Text

ye s, well

it basically came to me like a prophet receiving a vision from an angry god. you know. like brian david gilberts video ideas but with more slow burn.

no really i wrote all this down in my phone’s note app because some nearly coherent things popped up in my head every time i was on the train or bus these last few days.

(after-actually-writing-this disclaimer/note: this is 2000 words of slightly edited rambling about Bagginshield in the Afterlife. i had to put it in a read more.)

so the gist of it

the botfa goes just as in the movie with minor details altered. like bilbo kissing thorin just before he dies which inadvertently causes a ripple in time and space that makes the valar curious of them both. you know. minor stuff.

so bilbo goes back to the shire, the war of the ring goes down, and the hobbit/elf gang sails to valinor at the end. classic stuff, not much alternating of universes here.

but here’s where things turn into the “my city now” meme because DUDE DO I HAVE A LOT OF THOUGHTS ABOUT VALINOR AND HOW THE AFTERLIFE WORKS

like, I’m sorry mister jolkien rolkien tolkien, but just putting people into a hall to await being judged like a hospital waiting room? snooze, that’s boring!

so first of all, and you can fight me on this, Yavanna Made The Hobbits And You Can’t Change My Mind.

it just makes sense for her to have been very saddened by the destruction of literally all her work on arda through melkor’s poison, so she made living, growing things that could protect themselves from harm. as opposed to the ents, by the way, which were made by Eru to protect all the other living, growing things. it was a nice gesture of Eru to make those, but not quite what Yavanna wanted or had in mind, i imagine.

as with the dwarves, Eru wasn’t all happy about the existence of another race he didn’t make but you know, whatever, ‘I’ll just let this married couple have their own kids aside from mine, it’s okay’.

so he hands both the dwarves and the hobbits independent thought and free will, but under the condition (and here is where the afterlife stuff comes into play) that Aule and Yavanna be responsible for their mortal creations after their death. meaning that both races have seperate afterlives from the halls of mandos, MEANING THAT ITS COMPLETELY FINE FOR AULE AND YAVANNA TO BE LIKE “oh look honey, these two are so very in love and remind me of us, shan’t we do something about that?”

so. they do something about that. more precisely, they rearrange their afterlife-realms so they’re next to each other and someone with enough willpower could cross through the barrier. because listen, they’re valar, they can do whatever they want just for kicks.

okay so after that tangent lets get back to the meat of the matter: gay dwarves. I know not everyone has read Sansukh, a 500k word mammoth of a fic, and I don’t really intend to copy any of det’s canon, but their version of The Halls of Mahal really inspired me. basically the dwarven afterlife is one big hunk of a mountain/underground city where they’re free to live their days until dagor dagorath doing what they do best in the company of their families and friends; like smithing, crafting, building and other JustDwarrowThings.

meanwhile the hobbit afterlife is Basically The Shire and instead of being given the materials to build things, all the hobbits who go there get to grow plants and do their gardening. they don’t have to- just like none of the dwarves have to craft stuff- since there’s always enough food for everyone, but they are just allowed to do what they do best if they so desire.

now when Bilbo arrived in the undying lands he was still Old As Hell and im sorry to put it this way, he definitely kicked the can after like, a week of living there. not really so undying, them lands, huh. anyway Bilbo bites the dust and LOOK AT THAT he’s suddenly young again, and another LOOK AT THAT he’s standing in a very comfy, but Not Quite Bag End hobbit hole that has a note hung up on the front door. you wouldn’t think gods could have handwriting but hey, again, they’re gods they can do whatever. the note just tells him that yavannah made this place special and just for Bilbo but that there’s another home waiting for him. very cryptic there, lady. he doesn’t leave at first because hey, his family is here. there’s a lot of reunions and celebrating and food because its the fucking hobbit afterlife, what else would you expect

it takes him a few days of Regular Hobbit Life in his new home to realise ‘holy shit, this is so boring’ so what does a Fool of a Took do when things get boring and there’s a note urging him to do something?

HE’S GOING ON AN ADVENTURE

so Bilbo runs through the whole not-shire, meeting all sorts of people he outlived on the way (looking at you, Lobelia), as well as some elves. because elves can definitely just waltz through all the afterlives. they can walk on top of snow, you think they wouldn’t walk around wherever they please in valinor? rip to mankind, but they’re different.

he gets to the furthest reaches of it eventually, and lo and behold, what awaits him but the view of a tall mountain, an invisible barrier and a very flustered Thorin who is at his wits end as to how Bilbo even got here.

now for thorin’s part of the story we’ll have to start after the botfa again. he basically woke up in the darkness like an episode of naked and afraid, and started talking to Aule. his maker, who loves him to bits by the way since he made thorin, just tells him he’s free to go wherever his heart takes him. again with the cryptic messages from the gods.

so thorin, still very self-loathing and bitter because of his actions right before his death, sees this as Mahal’s way of saying ‘please don’t step foot in my halls u disgusting litle creacher’, when really he just meant ‘please do some well deserved self reflecting and then come inside to be with your family, they all miss you terribly’.

after his chat with the maker thorin just spawns in right at the front gate of the mountain and he has a choice to make. go inside or stay outside. and we all know Thorin’s proclivity for drama so he basically spends LITERAL YEARS just living in self imposed solitary confinement.

oh also tiny hc here, thorin was said to have taken “any work offered to him in the towns of men”, and they showed him in a smithy, but personally I believe they meant it when they said “any kind of work”. so basically thorin is a jack of all trades, master of some. he definitely has master-level skills in certain areas though, enough to build a vaguely hobbit-hole shaped house. why is it hobbit hole shaped?

oh right, the part where Thorin is absolutely enamoured with Bilbo.

"Go back to your books and your armchair, plant your trees, watch them grow. If more of us valued food and cheer and song above hoarded gold, it would be a merrier world.”- HELLO? GAY POLICE? I’D LIKE TO REPORT A CASE OF ‘DWARF KING REALISING THAT THE HOBBIT WAY OF LIVING IS A REALLY GREAT ONE IN CONCEPT / WISHING HE COULD HAVE HAD THAT KIND OF LIFE WITH BILBO’

anyway it’s a long 80 years until Thorin does get to meet Bilbo again, and in the meantime we have one of my favorite additions to any Hobbit fanfic ever: Frerin

For the uninitiated, Frerin is Thorin’s brother. They also have a sister, Dís, but Tolkien never specified when she died and she was a bit younger than Thorin and Frerin so I reckon she’d still be alive as an old dwarf lady somewhere?

Anyway, Frerin. Oh boy. Sansukh, again, does an excellent job at turning Frerin into a character with a level of authenticity that gets real fucking close to Genuine Tolkien™, so most of my own characterisation of Frerin is based on that in Sansukh. With the important omission of the dwarves not being able to see the present/their still alive loved ones in middle earth through a magic mirror pool.

so Frerin takes it upon himself to leave the mountain in search of his brother because he really does want him back. but also because Mahal has had it with Thorin’s antics and suggests Frerin fetch him so he can finally reunite with his family. Mahal doesn’t talk to the dwarves a lot because he’s like an awkward and distant dad, but he does actually speak to them.

so Thorin is supposed to go see his family, which he does, but not immediately. it takes like, a solid year of just brotherly (and sister-sonly) companionship for him to open up about all his anxieties and regrets and THEN he goes into the mountain to cry in his mother’s lap. as you do.

however Thorin still feels like he doesn’t 100% belong with the other dwarves in there, so he frequently spends long stretches of time outside, building away at his house, thinking about Bilbo. the company goes out to visit him sometimes.

more details on the house tho, cuz it’s Important; it’s built halfway into a hill near the mountain, like a proper hobbit hole would be, but the lower levels are built into stone. look, he’s had 80 years to work on constructing this. it’s near perfect in every way for both hobbit and dwarf standards and could definitely fit the entire company and more inside.

now about the barrier. elves can pass through without a second thought because they’re shiny little bastards who just get to do all the cool stuff, but the other races can’t just hop between realms like that; they really have to muster up the willpower. which usually means they can’t do it because a drawback for both dwarves and hobbits is that they favor isolation from other races even in death, and as such don’t want to mingle with each other.

unless you’re Bilbo Badass Baggins though, who simply runs through the barrier to yell at Thorin for leaving him sad and alone for 80 years. he is that bitch.

there’s gonna be some legolas and gimli shenanigans if i can fit them in (cuz i dont know when exactly they sailed west together), possibly a mention of tauriel because bruh peter jackson did us dirty by not giving her any closure besides ‘lol i guess she’s banished from mirkwood??’ and Mairon. because. I also have some thoughts about him.

also Fili and Kili as pseudo matchmakers because every fic needs that

and did I mention there’s gonna be hozier lyrics for chapter titles

i said this was the gist of it but i somehow ended up at ~1900 words. well, more power to me.

#bagginshield #the hobbit #bagginshield afterlife au #this is the most coherent plot summary I've ever done for a fic so please enjoy the trash #also it's my sleepover and I get to pick which parts of canon i'll adhere by

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artificialqueens · 5 years

Text

Needles Family Values, Ch. 1 - pureCAMP & Citrus

Summary: They’re creepy and they’re kooky, mysterious and spooky, they’re altogether ooky, the Needles family! Missing sisters, lying psychiatrists, passionate sex and the imminent threats of fraud and death… just another day in the Needles household. Welcome to the Addams Family AU you never knew you needed.

pureCAMP’s a/n: hi!!! i love citrus and i love these movies and this franchise so here’s our secret surprise we’ve been hinting at for ages!!!! love u and hope u love this!!!

Citrus’s a/n: if you know me at all, you know that the Addams Family is my favorite film franchise of all time, and arguably my favorite pop culture franchise overall. i’m absolutely ELATED to be finally bringing this fic into the light after working so long and hard on it with one of my favorite people in the entire world! this really is a labor of love, and i hope you enjoy it!

“Violet, darling, put that cleaver down.”

The children skidded to a halt at the sound of their mother’s voice, soft yet firm, and Violet handed over the offending object that she had been using to chase her younger brother around the house. Sharon replaced it with an axe, pressing the weapon into her daughter’s hands. There were many dangers around their home, little nooks and crannies of chaos for the children to run into, and it was the very least she could do to try and protect them. A cleaver would be of no use at all.

“Don’t ever let me catch you doing that again. Your brother is much too old for just a little cleaver, now, isn’t he?”

Alaska looked over from the sofa, a smile spreading across her face. “Has Gio really outgrown the meat cleaver? Oh, Sharon, they’re growing up so fast…” She regarded her wife lovingly as the children took off once more, Violet brandishing the new axe proudly. “Do you remember when Gio was born, darling?”

The ghost of a smile flickered on Sharon’s lips at the memory. “Of course I do,” she said wistfully. “I was in labour for twenty-seven hours. It was agony.” She paused. “It was bliss.” Alaska shivered.

“Your screams… I’ll never forget them, cara mia. They were so tortured, so chilling, so utterly beautiful.” Sharon glowed at her wife’s words, closing the book she’d been skimming through and laying it on her lap. Alaska’s gaze landed on the novel curiously before she looked back up at Sharon. “What are you reading, bella?”

“Raising the Dead: Caring for Your Little Monster,” she replied with the hint of a smile. “Ages infant to three.”

Alaska cocked her head to the side, puzzled. “Infant to three? But Sharon, our children…” her eyes widened suddenly, and she stared at her wife, mouth agape. “Sharon. Is it true?” Sharon’s smile didn’t waver as she nodded in affirmation, one hand resting on her abdomen. Alaska jumped to her feet, pulling her wife into a tight embrace. “Cara mia… Such dreadful news, and today of all days…”

Sharon leaned into Alaska’s embrace, lips brushing against her cheek. “Darling… It was inevitable… I simply can’t keep my hands off you…” Alaska held back a low moan as Sharon ran her hands over her curves, emphasized by the exquisite tailoring of her dark suit. Her words were true; she’d never met a single soul who possessed the beauty that Alaska had, and she truly loved her wife - several times a day, at least. While Alaska preferred to express her adoration for Sharon with flowery words and chivalry and gifts, Sharon’s way of proclaiming her affection was much more… physical. She was incredibly lucky, therefore, that she’d met a woman with a near-insatiable sexual appetite to match her own, and married her.

Sharon remembered it like it had happened merely yesterday, and not the ten years their unbreakable vow had boasted. A dear friend of hers had passed away - the delightfully disgusting Sasha, after losing a long and honourable battle with her own health - and she had arrived at the funeral resplendent in black, the same situation during which her friend, when alive, had introduced her to the very pair of eyes watching her whilst everybody else was enamoured with her cadaver. She, too, found herself drawn to the piercing stare of her lover. Had she been a different kind of woman, she may have even blushed.

The “mystery woman” introduced herself immediately, kneeling slightly and pressing a lingering kiss to Sharon’s outstretched hand. “My, my… The devil should be so lucky as to receive you as a gift, bella.”

Her poisonous green eyes met Sharon’s as she straightened, allowing her to appreciate the woman before her. “Alaska Needles. Why, it’s… disenchanting to meet you. I had expected that her darling corpse would be the prettiest thing I saw today. It appears I was wrong.”

“Sharon, Sharon Coady. You’re quite the sight to behold, Alaska.”

Alaska blinked slowly, her gaze unwavering as her eyelashes fluttered. “I can see you’ve lived a thousand torturous lifetimes, cara mia. A woman like you deserves a name to go with it.”

Biting her lip, Sharon pulled Alaska closer, delighted by their playacting. “Is that so? What would you suggest?”

With a tenderness unlike anything Sharon had felt before, Alaska took both her hands within her own and held them close to her chest. It was as if Sharon could feel the fire beneath her skin, relishing in the flames that devoured the pit of her stomach. Her lover was a woman like no other.

“I say I take you away. Tonight, cara mia, the witching hour. I’ll give you my name, and all of the pain and misery you could possibly withstand.”

Sharon let out a low gasp. “Take me, darling. Let us never look back.”

That very night, in the midst of the very graveyard their relatives were decaying in, they had made the ultimate sacrifice. Sharon relinquished her name, happy to accept Alaska’s in the wake of their seemingly sudden, sweeping romance. When they kissed, the moonlight above them as their witness, Sharon swore that life and death, pain and pleasure, distress and tranquility each had merged, coming together into one.

Before long, she was a fully-fledged member of the extensive Needles clan, accepted and beloved by each and every oddity that kissed her hand and wished them well. Sharon learned of Alaska’s sister, older and lonelier, who had disappeared the very night they married, never to be seen again. The two sisters had been driven apart, and Sharon knew just how deeply Alaska wished she could see her once more and reunite their family.

“Katya always loved the little ones, how I wish she could be here to meet our children,” Alaska sighed. “She would adore them so.”

“The time of the seance is nearing, ma chère,” Sharon answered, “Perhaps tonight, Katya Needles will show herself. We all miss her dearly.”

“Everyone to the seance room, we must begin the preparations!” The voice of Alaska’s mother brought them out of their trance, reminding the two they were not alone. They made their way to the seance room arm-in-arm, and though the urge to steal away and lose themselves in pain and pleasure was strong, the urge to reunite their family was, as it so often is, much stronger.

“Violet, Gio, darlings- come and join us,” Sharon called out softly, the children seemingly materializing out of nowhere and scampering into the room. Violet was still wielding the axe, and Gio had retaliated with spiked mace that he was swinging above his head. Holding out one hand, Alaska stopped them both in their tracks and watched as they skidded to a halt.

“Now, now, no weapons are to be taken into the seance room. You know this.” She scolded gently, ignoring their sulky expressions as she took the weapons and put them aside. “We need to prepare for tonight, and I know you’ve been looking forward to it so very much. Come along, now.”

Rarely used but well-loved, the seance room was one of the many dusty jewels tucked away in their home. It was well stocked with books, thick with knowledge of any kind of pain and torture known or unknown to man. In the centre, beneath one of many crystalline chandeliers, stood their grand oak table. Many an execution warrant had been written upon its smooth surface back in its origin. It was rich with history, which they were hoping would serve them well in their search for Katya.

“Oh, Alaska… It seems such a shame to remove all these beautiful cobwebs….” Sharon held the duster close to her chest.

Alaska pressed a lingering kiss to her forehead. “I know, mia bella. They’re exquisite.”

Sharon sighed, sweeping through them half-heartedly. “I’m sorry, poor spiders. It’ll only be for a couple of days. Then you can move right back in and begin spinning some beautiful new webs.”

There wasn’t much else to be done, save for removing the dust and setting out the candles, so it didn’t take the family too long to prepare. It had been almost a decade of searching fruitlessly, desperate for Katya’s return. They had to hope that this year would finally yield the results they dreamed of.

A gentle tap on the door revealed a visitor - the eccentric disembodied hand, who was standing near Alaska’s feet. It was clear by the frantic gesturing that it had a message.

“Ah! Evening, Vanjie.”

The hand went still.

Alaska coughed. “Sorry, sorry. Miss Vanjie.”

Satisfied, Vanjie continued with its odd method of communicating, gesticulating oddly in a manner that seemed completely untranslatable. Somehow, Alaska nodded, understanding it all.

“Right, right. Sharon, darling, Detox and Roxxxy are here. Vanjie says they’re expecting you.”

Sharon let out an airy gasp. “Of course. I’d completely forgotten. Detox will want to speak with you, I expect.” She turned to face the rest of the family. “My darlings, Grandmama’s in charge. We have other matters to attend to.”

“The Katya Needles Offshore Retirement Fund?” Alaska read off the sheet of paper on her desk. She looked up at Detox. “What would it do?”

Detox put a hand on her hip. “What wouldn’t it do?”

Alaska sighed, already lost in a memory. “Katya… You know, some called her ‘the visual depiction of untreated mental illness.’”

“No,” Detox gasped. Alaska shook her head, smiling proudly.

“Only our parents. I called her ‘sister.’”

“And her memory must live on forever,” Detox insisted. “Through money,” she added. “I’ll deposit the money under my name, for tax purposes you know.”

“How inspired!” Alaska praised, looking over the papers in her hands.

“She would’ve wanted it that way,” Detox said. “One million dollars should be the perfect amount. For darling Katya’s memory, of course.”

Alaska leapt up from her seat and onto her desk. “It’s brilliant!” she exclaimed joyfully, fencing foil raised high. Then she paused, turning to look down at Detox. “But it’s not old business, Detox, and you know the rules.”

“Couldn’t we- couldn’t we make an exception?” the businesswoman faltered. Alaska hopped off the desk, shaking her head.

“Old business is old business, and new business is new business. And we do not discuss new business until…” she turned her back and flipped through her desk calendar at an inhuman speed, “Next quarter.”

“Next quarter,” Detox repeated under her breath, outraged. While Alaska’s back was still turned, she grabbed her abandoned foil from their earlier joust and made a thrust in Alaska’s direction with her whole body. Unfortunately, Alaska moved at the very last second, sending Detox tumbling over the desk and onto the floor.

“Fine lunge, but your riposte…” Alaska tsked, looking down at her. “A tad rusty. You’d do well to practice more, Detox.” She tossed her foil to Vanjie, who sheathed it, and made her way to the doorway. “Make yourself comfortable while I fetch the money for the monthly expenses.”

“A charity auction,” Jinkx muttered as she searched through the storage room, “It’s ridiculous.”

They had already searched most of the room, including opening an old bureau that was found to only contain the summer and winter wardrobes of Alaska’s uncle, as well as the body of the man himself. No luck there.

At that moment, Vanjie caught Sharon’s attention by snapping its fingers and pointing to a nearby shelf. Sharon let out a small exclamation of delight and retrieved the object they’d been searching for, gliding over to Roxxxy with a smile.

“Just what we’ve been searching for. Thank you, Vanjie.”

“It’s beautiful,” Roxxxy breathed. “Er, what is it?”

Sharon smiled. “A finger trap from the court of Emperor Ru,” she explained, turning the device over in her hands.

“This must be worth a fortune… Oh, Sharon!” Roxxxy squealed in delight, overcome by her kindness. “It’s too extravagant… Maybe even for the auction…”

“Let’s keep it,” Jinkx suggested gleefully. Sharon looked at her with surprise.

“Hush, Mama,” she chided, “It’s for charity. Widows and orphans.” She turned to Roxxxy with an expression of utmost sympathy. “We need more of them.” Then she frowned, looking troubled. “Roxxxy, about the seance tonight… I wish you’d come. It’s Alaska, I’m… I’m terribly worried about her,” she admitted. “She won’t eat, she can’t sleep, she keeps coughing up blood…”

Roxxxy looked up from the finger trap, which had now closed around her index fingers while she had been fiddling with it. “She coughs up blood?” she echoed, sounding horrified. Sharon sighed deeply, her voice thick with emotion.

“Not like she used to…”

“There you are!” Alaska proclaimed, heaping the last of a stack of shimmering gold coins onto the scale. “The monthly expenses. It was good to see you, Detox, you really should visit more often.” Sliding the doubloons into Detox’s briefcase, she handed it off, bidding the defeated woman adieu.

Mood soured, Detox grunted in response. “Thanks.” She replied curtly, lugging the much-heavier briefcase with her. “Roxxxy? Come on, we’re leaving!”

Roxxxy joined her just as they headed out of the door, Alaska and Sharon waving them off. Her face was pinched uncomfortably, her finger still caught in the unusual trap, and she looked put-out by something. Such was a side-effect of visiting the Needles mansion - though they were rich, the estate was filled with horrors other than the children, that would disturb anyone of sound mind.

“This stupid trap!” She shrieked, finally undone by the madness. “Detox, look at this stupid thing!”

She was just about to open the gate, ready to reassure her wife, when she realized something - or someone - was blocking the way. The Needles’ eldest child, a young girl named Violet, was stood in front of them.

“You - but - you -” Detox faltered, sure she had seen the child just moments ago, at the top of the staircase. Violet remained expressionless.

“It’s not stupid.” She stated plainly. “It’s very simple, and very valuable.” With one click, she freed Roxxxy’s fingers, now red and swollen, from the trap. “There’s a trick to it. Maybe Mother will teach it to you tonight, at the seance.”

Without another word, she began to walk back towards her home, looming eerily black against the bright blue sky. In the meantime, wrenching the gate open, Detox glared at Roxxxy.

“You agreed to go to a seance?! With the Needles?!”

Roxxxy shrugged helplessly. “Do you expect me to argue with Sharon?” She replied, her voice shrill. “She’s a lovely woman, but she’s too intimidating!”

“And filthy fucking rich - that she is.” Detox sighed, conceding. “That she fucking is.”

With an almighty thud, Detox slammed the briefcase that Alaska had filled onto her desk and sank into her worn leather chair, facing the wall. She was in dire straits, and she knew it. That fake retirement fund for the long missing Katya Needles had been her last attempt at a fraudulent scheme, and she had come up empty-handed yet again. If she couldn’t convince the Needles to squander some of their unending wealth soon, she would be a goner.

“Detox? Good to see you. Sit down.” A familiar voice commanded. Detox let out a long, low groan.

“I’m already sitting down.”

“Sit down here.” The voice insisted. Turning, Detox saw the one face that she cared to see less than Alaska or Sharon Needles - Phi Phi O’Hara. Her dark eyes were boring into Detox’s expectantly, and she knew that her benefactor was waiting for money that she just didn’t have.

“Pay up, Detox.” She began sternly, as she sullenly took a seat opposite Phi Phi on the floral couch. “I’ve lent you many thousands of dollars by now. I expect to see some payback.”

Sweating, Detox sank down further. “Look, O’Hara, I don’t have it. I’ve got nothing for you, I’ve got nothing for myself. I need more time-”

“And I need results, Detox. I need them now. I trust you haven’t met my sister yet?”

Detox’s first thought was that there was no way this… creature could be Phi Phi’s sister. Unlike her boss, who was short in stature and golden skinned, her sister was tall, pale and muscular. Around her head, a birds nest of black hair obscured most of her face, so that all that could be seen was one sharp cheekbone and a pair of blood red lips. However, at the sight of her somewhat-menacing stance, Detox decided not to question her birth.

“She’s trained.” Phi Phi warned her. “I wouldn’t try to cross us, Detox.

The dark-haired woman cracked her knuckles.

She frowned. “Trained in what?”

Phi Phi shrugged. “Don’t try to find out. Just give us our money and we won’t have to hurt you.”

“I’m trying!” Detox insisted, jumping to her feet. “Honestly, they’re drowning in money. Just today I heard Alaska’s wife talking about how they made it onto Forbes richest - multiple times! They have some sort of secret vault or something, but no one knows where it is!” Phi Phi’s terrifying sister stepped closer to her, a menacing glare in her eyes as she reached out and suddenly pushed Detox against the wall by her neck.

“I think she’s lying, Phi Phi,” she said with a leering grin.

“I- I swear I’m not!” Detox choked out, struggling to breathe. “I was gonna look during- during their seance tonight!”

“Seance?” Phi Phi questioned. Detox nodded as best she could while attempting to free herself from the woman’s grasp.

“They have one every year, to- to summon their long-lost sister. K-Katya.”

“Petra, let her down,” Phi Phi commanded. Her sister relinquished her hold on Detox with a slight frown, stepping back. “Now, Detox… Tell me about this seance.”

By the time Detox had explained everything, there was a wicked glimmer in Phi Phi’s eye.

“This could work,” she mused, “We could pull it off.”

“Pull what off?”

Phi Phi rolled her eyes. “Jesus, Detox, keep up. We’re gonna disguise Petra as Katya Needles, and I’ll pretend to be a psychiatrist who found her washed up somewhere with amnesia. Once the Needles accept her into their family again, she can tell us where their vault is, and you can finally pay us what you owe.”

Detox considered Phi Phi’s plan, her gaze shifting to Petra. She did look startlingly similar to the portrait of Katya that hung in the Needles estate. With a haircut and some cleaning up, she could easily pass for the long-lost Needles sibling. Phi Phi was already convinced, a pair of fake glasses in hand to add to her psychiatrist illusion. Petra was on board with the scheme, seemingly willing to do whatever her sister suggested. Reluctantly, Detox pulled out her phone.

“I’ll call Roxxxy. She likes Mrs Needles, but she hates the weird shit they get up to. She’s not gonna like this at all.”

For the entire drive back to the Needles mansion, Roxxxy was sullen and silent; it was a drastic but not unwelcome change from her hysterical yelling that had nearly burst Detox’s eardrums through the phone. She kept her arms crossed and her eyes in her lap, doing her best to ignore the two passengers conversing in the backseat. As expected, she hadn’t taken the news well, but Detox had the upper hand. No matter how they did it, they needed money fast. Petra - or Katya - was their only hope.

“Ugh, this place freaks me out.” Roxxxy sniffed, smoothing her dark green skirt and gazing at the ornate iron gates. “Do you think I look dark enough for them?”

Irritated with her attitude, Detox rolled her eyes, before plastering a fake smile onto her face. “Aww, for the Needleses?”

She placed a gentle hand on Roxxxy’s arm, to reassure her.

“No.” Detox finished abruptly, letting her hand fall. “Nothing is dark enough for them. Come on, they’ll be waiting. You two wait here and listen.” The last comment was directed at Phi Phi and Petra-Katya.

All but dragging Roxxxy up the path, Detox affixed a wide grin to her face and pressed the doorbell, hoping it wouldn’t snap and try to chomp on her finger as it had done once before. Thankfully, the feral button remained still, leaving Detox’s hands untouched and her smile unbroken.

“Darling, at least try to look like you want to be here.” She hissed. “They’re our last hope.”

The door swung open, revealing the Needles’ manservant, the tall and handsome Max. He seldom spoke, but Detox had seen him a few times around the home. Behind him, Sharon was watching them intently. At her serious expression, Detox let the smile fall from her face. Like any Needles family member, Sharon rarely smiled, save for the seductive, tight-lipped smirk she reserved only for her wife.

“Detox, Roxxxy, do come in. I can’t thank you enough for coming. Alaska will be delighted.”

Roxxxy simpered. “Oh, it was our pleasure.” She told her, sounding saccharine-sweet.

Sharon raised one eyebrow. “Oh, really? It was ours too.”

Leaving a puzzled Roxxxy no time to respond, Sharon turned on her heel. “Max, darling, will you help escort our guests to the seance room? You know Mama, she’s simply itching to begin.”

The tall butler first took their coats before leading them to the seance room. Both Detox and Roxxxy immediately wished they had kept them on, as the house grew colder the closer they got, but they pinned the smiles to their faces anyway.

As they entered, feeling slightly out of place, the Needles family (and guests) gathered around a large oak table, sitting in high-backed chairs as candles flickered on the walls.

“Gio, I see that axe,” Sharon chided softly, holding out her hand. Gio and Violet shared a look, and the boy handed the weapon to his mother with a sweet, innocent smile. “Now… Shall we begin?”

The participants joined hands– all except for Max, who had been tasked with providing the mood music for the night, and was fulfilling that duty by playing sonatas on an organ. The weather outside was perfect for a seance, stormy and dark, with rolling thunder and the occasional flash of lightning. Other than the thunderclaps and Max’s organ-playing, the room was very quiet, and Jinkx started the seance with an old incantation.

“Sing, all ye spirits… Harken all souls…”

Her gravelly voice was chilling. As she spoke, Detox and Roxxxy found themselves watching the two Mrs Needles interacting. Despite the sinister setting, their unending romance seemed unperturbed by the darkness. Alaska was gazing into Sharon’s eyes as though she intended to ravish her right then and there. With a sniff, Roxxxy tried to recall the last time she had been looked at with such all-consuming lust.

Alaska gently stroked her wife’s hand, continuing. “Every year on this date, we offer a clarion call to Katya Needles. May she reveal herself at last.”

“From generation to generation, our beacon to the beyond.” Sharon smiled softly as she placed a lit candle in the centre of the table.

“Everyone close your eyes and join hands!” Jinkx instructed. Once again, Roxxxy found herself uncomfortable - though she considered herself friends with Sharon, her mother-in-law Jinkx had always seemed odd, and her daughter Violet was unnerving, to say the least. Still, she reassured herself, despite their outward appearances, they were just an elderly grandmother and a harmless young child. Nothing to fear.

“Oh, what a grip!” Jinkx exclaimed as Roxxxy took her hand, with a grasp no firmer than usual. “Ooh! Oh, my hand!”

Her frizzy, greying red hair was stood on end like the fur of a hissing cat. Looking down, she didn’t realize the source of the old woman’s yelping until she realized the hand that she was holding was no longer attached to Jinkx’s arm. Horrified, she screamed and stumbled backwards.

“The - it - how - I- hand!” She babbled, pointing in terror at the disembodied limb. Jinkx and the children fell about laughing, prompting Alaska to shake her head at their antics before cracking a smile of her own. Even Sharon had an amused smirk toying at her lips.

“Vanjie, you’re more of a handful than the children, sometimes,” she scolded. “And Mama, you know better than to scare our dear guest like that.”

Jinkx shrugged, reconnecting their hands to continue the seance. “Violet?”

The little girl nodded, more serious and still than a child had ever been. “Let us ransom you from the power of the grave. Tonight, oh Death, let us be your plague.”

A whispered, “Well done, dear,” from Sharon followed her incantation before Jinkx took over once more, chanting in an unfamiliar tongue. The room grew colder as she spoke, the darkness becoming heavier around them as though a veil shrouded the room. Goosebumps ran along any exposed flesh. Then, in an instant, all of the candles blew out in a gust of inexplicable wind.

“I sense that she’s near!”

Everybody’s eyes snapped open. There was no sign of the missing Needles sister in the room, but Alaska’s eyes were wide with hope, presumably conveying a message to Sharon, at whom she was staring at with a fiery intensity.

“Katya Needles, gather your strength!” Jinkx commanded. “Knock three times!”

The rest of the participants closed their eyes again, except for Detox. Roxxxy was about to scold her for not taking part when she noticed she was looking out of the window across the Needles estate. Somewhere in the distance, a car door shut, and Detox turned her attention back to the seance. With bated breath, the family waited to find out if this was the night that Katya Needles would finally reappear.

Boom.

Alaska almost looked as though she were in pain - her body jolted with each knock, and her face was screwed up in desperation. She couldn’t bear to get her hopes up about her sister’s return if she was not truly going to appear.

“Did you hear that? Ask again, quickly!” she demanded, her eyes sparkling. “Ask again!”

Jinkx cleared her throat. “Katya Needles! Long have you been missing, soon will you be reunited. I demand that you knock again, three times!”

Once more, Alaska gritted her teeth, her brow furrowed as she listened out between the cracking of thunder.

Boom.

At the final knock, she sprung from her chair, knocking a nearby candle and setting a piece of cloth alight. “My sister! She’s here, at our door!” Ignoring the fire, which Max was startlingly quick to put out, she all but bounded out of the room with Sharon on her tail, followed in turn by their children.

Flinging the heavy door open like it weighed nothing, Alaska was immediately confronted by two figures: a petite brunette woman wearing a raincoat, and a taller woman with a mess of black hair rivaling only her own. Sharon let out a soft gasp at her side, and when the raven-haired woman flashed an awkward smile, Alaska was sweeping her up in a bone-crushing embrace.

“It’s you,” she whispered, on the verge of tears. “Katya.”

#rpdr fanfiction #shalaska #needles family values #citrus #purecamp #lesbian au #sharon needles #alaska thunderfuck #violet chachki #jinkx monsoon #phi phi o'hara #katya zamolodchikova #roxxxy andrews #max malanaphy #aquaria #vanessa vanjie mateo #addams family au #detox icunt

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immortalcoelacanth · 6 years

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Moonjumper x Reader Oneshot: The Stars in Your Eyes

Yes you read the title right! Behold a Moonjumper x Reader fic! It’s gonna be another of my Tumblr exclusive oneshots, and I hope you guys enjoy it!

Also I suck at writing different tenses so I apologize if there’s any mistakes!

Word count: 3749

Summary: Sneaking out of the castle to look at the stars was something you had always done, but this time something had changed, something was different.

There was a red string poking out of the forest...

The full moon shone down upon you as you stealthily made your way through the garden, not wanting to get caught by the guards who patrolled this area. The heavy, armored footsteps made you freeze, but when they got farther away you relaxed and continued moving, crawling through some bushes.

The clothes you had decided to wear were getting stained with grass and mud, but you paid them no mind. Dirt had never bothered you, a drastic difference from your mother’s constant need for everything to be clean.

You continue crawling forward, occasionally pausing as the guards walk near you once again, but you are never caught. It seems as though the world is encouraging you to go out and explore, live for once.

A smile breaks out on your face as you slide out of the final row of bushes, now free of the oppressive castle you had spent most of your life in. You turn around, eyeing the stone structure with distaste. You knew your parents meant well, but it was so frustrating being forced to remain there.

Excitement humming in your veins, you march towards the forest not too far from your home, the tall grass in the field brushing against your legs. Even if the guards were to spot you now you would not get in any trouble thanks to your disguise.

It was a smart idea, stealing some of the clothes the servants wore to use them for yourself, even if they were not the most comfortable. The ragged cloak also helped, hiding your frame and face from anyone who got too close.

A couple minutes pass and you continue walking forward, the castle behind you slowly growing smaller as you put more distance between it. You glance up to the stars, their luminescence catching your eyes, and you are surprised to see how large the moon looks out here. Had it grown bigger while you were walking?

You sigh, shaking off the questioning thoughts and instead focus on your original goal. You had come out here to relax and look at the stars, and that is exactly what you are going to do!

No giant moon would distract you from your mission, even if it was strange and abnormal…

However just are you are about to lie down and look up at the stars, a vibrant light catches your attention. You turn around, easily finding the strange, glowing phenomenon that you had noticed.

It looks like it is some sort of red string.

It remains where it is, poking out of the woods as it flutters in the breeze, and you slowly walk towards it.

Once you are close enough you reach out to grab it and watch as it loops around your hand all on its own, no sign of what was causing it to do so. The sight reminds you of the times where your parents would hold hands, and you cannot help but wonder if the string is trying to do the same with you. It then pulls your hand, making you take a step forward. Curious, you look up and stare at the trees in front of you.

It wants you to enter the forest.

Once more the string tugs on your hand, but this time you resist it, uncertain about following it. You had no idea where it wanted to take you or what it even was. This was dangerous and could be life threatening.

And yet a part of you wants to follow it, despite the risk you would be taking. This had never happened before, it was something new. A break from your monotonous, predictable life.

You notice the string starting to sag, a part of you noting that it seemed disappointed and you take another step forward. Immediately the stand of glowing light perks back up, and continues to pull you towards the forest.

Well, you had made your choice. Now it was time to commit to it.

So you enter the unnamed forest, doing your best to not trip over and roots or rocks as you are guided to your unknown destination. The woods are silent as you walk through them, the animals either asleep or missing. Even the winds are unnaturally calm, but you do not feel scared. There is something peaceful about this silence, something soothing about it.

An uncertain amount of time passes before you are free of the constant trees, the string leading you to some sort of clearing.

Here the moon is even larger, the glowing orb dominating most of the sky, but this is not what catches your attention.

There are red strings everywhere!

Some lay limp against the grass covered ground while others reach off into the distance, but they all seem to originate from the same place, coming out of some sort of object. Your eyes grow wide in surprise as you realize what the object is. It is a hammock of some sort, made out of the same luminous strings.

Just what in the world is a hammock doing all the way out here?!

You walk forward, string still looped around your hand, and notice that the hammock is not empty.

The figure resting in it is unlike anything you have ever seen. Their skin is blue and red markings cover their face. The clothes they wear, formal in appearance, are worn with time and you can see what appears to be manacles on their wrists with chains attached to them.

Then you notice that they are missing their legs!

A gasp escapes you and you back up, certain that whatever it is you are staring at must be some kind of corpse, with how still it was and the lack of legs. However to your complete and utter surprise the figure shifts at the sound of your voice.

They roll over onto their side so they are now facing you, eyes still shut. You feel a familiar tug on your hand and glance down. The string wants you to get closer to this figure, but you have no idea why.

You take a deep breath in, let it out, and walk forward until you are standing at the edge of the hammock. The string relaxes but does not let go. It then starts coiling around your fingers, slowly wrapping itself around each digit.

Perhaps if you had been paying more attention to it you would have brushed the string off, but your eyes were glued to the figure before you, still sound asleep.

Strange, it looks as though their face is a mask of some sort…

Curiosity controlling your actions, you reach forward and trace the red markings on the figure’s face. The flesh is warm, and your touch makes them twitch slightly.

Suddenly an arm grabs your wrist, making you let out a yelp as you try to pull your hand away. Unfortunately their grip is too strong which leaves you with no way to escape. However, instead of losing an arm, and possibly your life, the figure starts nuzzling their face into your palm, a happy sigh escaping them.

This is, without a doubt, the most adorable thing you have seen in your life!

The sight before you lasts for only a couple more moments before the figure begins to stir, their mismatched red eyes opening and landing on you, widening in surprise.

A loud, startled shout escapes the figure and the hammock beneath them disappears in a puff of red smoke, making them fall to the ground with you falling along with them thanks to the hand still on your wrist. You land atop the figure, face smooshed against their reddish, orange cloak.

“I’m sorry!” You squeak, scampering backwards so you are no longer pinning them. “I’m so sorry!”

“It is alright.” The figure groans softly, sitting up slightly so he can look at you. “You have done no harm, but I would recommend you do not make a habit of surprising others while they rest.”

Well that certainly sounded refined. Both his voice and words remind you of some of the nobles who would visit the castle, however there is no arrogance or pride in his voice.

It was odd to hear something so similar yet so different, and the situation only grew more bizarre as the figure floated up off the ground, positioning himself so he was directly in front of you.

Luckily you cannot see any anger in his strange, glowing eyes, but he does look a bit annoyed.

“Now how did you find me?” He asks, folding his arms as he stares at you with suspicion in his eyes.

“That string brought me here.” You answer, gesturing to the only glowing thread that remained in the clearing, hovering not too far from him. “It pulled me to you.”

A scandalized noise escapes the figure and he reaches out to tuck the string into his sleeve, a strange red blush appearing on his face.

Wait, blush?! Did that mean he was-

“Please disregard those strings.” He says, the blush on his face fading as he looks at you once again. “They revel in causing mischief and only create trouble.”

Well that did nothing to explain why one had brought you here, but before you can further pursue this topic the figure speaks once again. “Now, I believe introductions are needed then, as I do not know you nor do you know me.”

He then backs up, twirling a bit and striking a pose. “You may call me, Moonjumper!”

The sight is a bit ridiculous, and you cannot help but laugh softly for a couple seconds before responding.

“Hello,” You say with a warm smile on your face, introducing yourself to the now named Moonjumper.

The moment he hears your name you can see his eyes narrow before growing wide. “Ah, the heir to the throne of the Étoile Kingdom.”

You take a step back, surprised that this being knew something like that. “How do you know about that?!”

“I hear and see many things in the horizon.” He replies, floating closer and closing the gap you had made. “I cannot help but wonder what royalty is doing in a place such as this so late at night.”

Instinct has you looking to the ground in shame as you answer. “I just wanted to look at the stars for a little while.”

Actually you had planned to stay out for the entire night before sneaking back to the castle, but Moonjumper did not need to know that.

“That is understandable, the Étoile Kingdom does have a beautiful view of the stars.” He chuckles, and the noise makes your heart beat just a bit faster. “Though now I choose to stay here for other reasons.”

“Other reasons?” You question, mouth suddenly dry as you stare up at the floating figure. “May I know what those are?”

“Ah, there are many beautiful sights that I wish to see.” Was the quiet reply, a faint smirk on his face as he stares at you.

A nervous chuckle escapes you. “Oh, well that’s completely understandable-”

“Out of all of the stars in your kingdom,” Moonjumper suddenly says, reaching out and gently brushing the back of his hand against your cheek. “You shine the brightest.”

There was no denying the bright blush that had appeared on your face, both from his words and the affectionate gesture. Years of training to repress such a reaction are thrown out the window and you knew that if your father saw you now he would be furious.

“Thank you.” You murmur, glancing down to the ground as one hand rises to nervously scratch at your cheek. “But you don’t need to say that-”

“Why would I lie?” He purrs, placing a hand under your chin to make you look up at him. “You are a lovely person, young heir, both inside and out.”

The blush is back at full force and you know you can do nothing to stop it.

Compliments are something you are used to hearing, being the child of royalty will do that, but the sheer sincerity in his words leaves you breathless and makes your heart flutter. For a moment you allow yourself to believe that this might truly happen, that someone might genuinely care about you and not your royal blood, but you quickly push the feelings to the side.

“So you mentioned the horizon!” You practically shout, eager to change the topic. “Do you live there?”

You wince when the smile on Moonjumper’s face disappears, replaced by a frown. He glances off to the side and you can practically feel the sorrow radiating off of him.

“Saying that I am trapped there is a bit more accurate.” He mumbles, eyes filled with some unknown emotion. “A curse, a hex, some magical binding that prevents me from leaving except on special occasions such as tonight.”

Sympathy floods your heart, he was a prisoner just like you were, and you instinctively reach out and hug him. “I’m sorry to hear that Moonjumper.”

A surprised noise escapes him at the gesture, but instead of pushing you away he wraps his arms around you, returning the hug. “Thank you, lovely Moonflower.”

You pull back and send the floating figure a confused look. “Moonflower? Where did that come from?”

“I believe it would be unwise to speak your real name aloud, should your parents find out about this visit.” You nod, immediately understanding what he is talking about.

The heir to the royal throne sneaking out and wearing servant’s clothes? It would be a scandalous affair if anyone ever found out, and you would never be able to leave the castle again.

Besides, Moonflower is a wonderful name.

Especially the lovely part…

You blush and shake the thoughts away, a bit frustrated with how easily flustered you were getting. It was strange since no one had ever made you react this way, and yet every word Moonjumper spoke seemed to make your heart race and your palms sweat.

You have no idea if the sincerity or blatant flirting is to blame for your reactions, or if it is some combination of the two.

“So,” Moonjumper suddenly says, sending you a mischievous smile that did nothing to calm your pounding heart. “Would you still like to view the stars?”

You are a bit taken aback by the seemingly random question, but you nod your head anyways. A moment later the figure before you is gone, but you can feel a pair of arms scooping you up and holding you against some’s chest.

Moonjumper’s chest.

“MOONJUMPER ARE YOU INSANE?!” You cannot help but shriek as he soars up into the air.

Terrified, you bury your face into his neck, trembling slightly in his arms. Your ascent slowly comes to a halt but you refuse to look up. You have no idea how high up you are and you are in no way interested in finding out.

“I won’t let you fall, my Moonflower.” Moonjumper chuckles, and you can easily imagine the soft smile that must have been on his face. “Trust me and look.”

It takes you a moment to work up the courage to lift your face out of the crook of his neck, and a bit longer to open your eyes, but when you do you are more than happy you listened to him.

“Wow,” You breathe, staring at the landscape around you. “It’s beautiful.”

The ground was very far below you, but you did not feel afraid. Thanks to how high up you are you can easily see all of your kingdom, from the castle to the small village nearby, but that is not the most impressive part of this new view.

The stars shine above you, bathing you and Moonjumper in their glowing radiance. You lean back so you can stare up to the sky, resting your head on Moonjumper’s shoulder. “This is amazing, thank you so much!”

“You’re welcome, my lovely Moonflower.”

You spend a couple minutes like this, reclining in Moonjumper’s arms as you looked up at the stars. Unfortunately your back started to cramp up a bit, so you sat up and glance over at the one holding you.

His eyes are closed and a peaceful smile was stretched across his face. A grin forms on your face at the sight, and you cannot help but reach over and start tracing the red marks once again. Though he does not open his eyes, Moonjumper presses his face into your palm, sighing happily like he had before.

He shifts you in his arms so he is no longer cradling you, red strings wrapping around you to keep you in place. It dawns on you that the threads actually came from him, and were most likely magic of some kind, which meant he had led you to him earlier.

However, recalling the embarrassed look you had seen on his face, you know he did not consciously bring you here.

But the reason why he had brought you here is still unknown, not that you are too concerned with finding out.

Now you are held in front of him, pressed against his chest as you look up into his face. You shudder as a cold breeze rips through you and Moonjumper pulls you even closer.

“Thanks.” You breathe, unconsciously leaning into him. “I can’t believe how amazing the stars look up here.”

Moonjumper hums softly. “Hm, yes the stars are quite beautiful, but I happen to enjoy looking at your eyes far more, my dear Moonflower.”

Your face feels like it is on fire but at this point you do not care.

Moonjumper descends back into the clearing and puts you down, though he remains close to your side. You sit down on the grass, him immediately joining you, and you decide that now would be the best time to get to know him more. You talk about your life, while Moonjumper discusses what it is like in the horizon, and what he knows about your home. It turns out he had actually been watching the kingdom for nearly ten years, coming down from the horizon once the moon was full so he could look around.

Unfortunately all good things must come to an end, and in almost no time at all you see Moonjumper nervously glance at the sky, fingers knitting together. “The moon falls and dawn approaches. Soon I shall be forced back to the horizon.”

He leans down and softly presses a kiss against your forehead, lingering for just a moment as he speaks. “Thank you for making this night memorable to me, my lovely Moonflower.”

Every part of you screams to not let it end like this, with so much implied but nothing said as he starts to float away. Your hands reach up, grabbing on to his cloak, and you pull him down towards you.

Your lips brush against his, and you swear you can feel him lean into the kiss.

After a moment you let Moonjumper go and the floating figure backs away just a bit, eyes wide with some unknown emotion. Suddenly it dawns on you that your gesture might not have been welcome, and you look down to the ground in shame.

“I’m sorry-” You go to apologize, but your words are cut off when Moonjumper scoops you up into his arms and spins you around, laughing happily.

“You have nothing to apologize for.” He whispers, affectionately nuzzling the side of your head. “My lovely Moonflower.”

You smile and wrap your arms around his neck, leaning forward to smooch him once more. A startled noise escapes you when Moonjumper deepens the kiss just a bit. He then pulls away and laughs, making your heart start racing once again.

Laughter bubbles out of you and you join him, a massive smile on your face as the joyful sounds fill the space around you. Once you both stop and the silence creeps in, Moonjumper speaks again.

“May I have to honor of escorting you home?”

“Of course.” You murmur, burying yourself against his chest as he floats higher up into the air and soars back to the castle.

In almost no time at all he reaches the stone structure that is your home, the sky above you starting to lighten as dawn slowly grows closer.

Time is running out.

You wish the night never had to end.

You direct Moonjumper to your room. Luckily enough the window is still open, allowing Moonjumper to place you inside. You turn around and stare at the figure floating outside, your heart aching at the mournful expression on his face.

He leans forward and takes one of your hands, bringing it up to his face and kissing the back of it. “I certainly enjoyed tonight, my lovely Moonflower.”

“As did I.” You breathe, doing your best to push down the tears that were welling up in your eyes.

“May we meet again.” And with that final message he starts backing away, smiling at you one more time.

You sigh sadly as you look out the window, watching as the first rays of sunlight touch the world. Almost immediately Moonjumper’s form starts to flicker, vanishing in moments and leaving no sign that he was ever there.

However you see a faint glimmer of red drifting through the air towards you. You reach out and catch the glowing thread, pulling it to your chest as you look down at it.

The string wraps around your hand one more time before it vanishes, turning into a puff of red smoke that dances away on the wind.

You can feel the tears falling from your eyes. They roll down your face, landing on your hands and the stone windowsill.

You sniffle and wipe your tears off of your cheeks, not wanting to end what had been the best night of your life in sorrow. Instead you focus on remembering all of the good that had happened. The sound of Moonjumper’s laughter, his warm hugs.

The sensations of his lips brushing against yours as you kissed-

You push away from the window, the frown on your face shifting into a determined smile. You quickly change into your proper attire and stride out of your room with a goal in mind.

You will see him again, no matter what! All you need is to know when the next full moon will be.

Perhaps one of the servants might know…

#my story #fanfiction #a hat in time #ahit #moonjumper #reader pov #fluff #Moonjumper is a bit of a flirt #blushing intensifies #kisses ahead #oneshot #tumblr exclusive oneshot

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aggresivelyfriendly · 6 years

Photo

First of all, could the banner be prettier? Thanks @dirtystyles

Second of all: I SEE HARRY IN 12 HOURS!!!!! really, if you are reading this and see my goofy ass grin, say HI!!

Third of all, if you are reading and enjoying still, send me a message and reblog!

Fourth, this is an age gap fic, where the lady in question is older, if this is a no fly zone, no worries, switch flights!

~Who Names The Colors~ Chapter 8-Starry Night

“What are you doing here Harry?” Jo nearly dropped her groceries and was thankful that Zoe finally started listening and held onto her pant leg when her hands were full. It was meant to be more when they’re in a parking lot or garage or summat, but Jo was just glad she was listening about it now.

It was a truly unusual day. Jo had woken up that morning to sun. Sun, in middle England, in November.

She’d been in a bit of a funk since she’d run out on Harry a few days prior. She’d made it to her classes of course, but her nights away from department meeting were filled with Zoe cuddles, Netflix and wine binges, plus attempts at going to bed early. Attempts because little sleeping was happening.

She saw Harry everywhere. She usually never saw him at school, and of course, she’d seen him driving in last week, in the car park, and then him walking with some girl and they were laughing and Jo hated it. Later she saw him at the coffee stand - meaning she had to forgo her fix. Which she’d desperately needed, because she’d been seeing him an unusual amount on campus, but it was nothing compared to how often she could see him at her own home.

Every time she closed her own eyes she saw the mysterious green shade of his. In her studio, she saw him shirtless waiting for her and telling her not to say his name while silently cheering for her to scream it. And worst and best were the dreams.

He was most certainly there, and in those she could feel. Jo was having the most vivid dreams she had ever had. The feel of his plump lips against her own was so real in her subconscious, she could actully feel it against her neck, a place his lips didn’t make it to. And she could most certainly feel his knee between her thighs, and his bulge too, which she had only ever felt through cloth.

And those were just the a sleeping dreams. The waking ones were worse. In those, she saw him telling her about his art, and realization dawned during his soliloquy that his woman was Jo too, so he’d methodically undressed her to check he was right and found nothing wanting, no dissimilarities but became obsessed with sketching her angles and rounded bits before touching them. The trace of his pencil was a sound she could hear and the eventual trail of his fingers was like lava devouring streets. It gave her goosebumps, huge ones.

He was a daydream.

A literal one at the moment. Harry looked like all of her mental hopes and dreams on the concrete step that led to her door. His legs bent high, covered in tight dark denim, but the right knee cap showed through and his lanky arms hung off his patellas like a lever ready to launch her into the sunny sky. His hair was up in a bun and Jo loved and hated it. It was so endearing and homey, but she wanted to see the ringlets around his hair. He was a jawdropper in the sunlight.

Of course the sun is out today. It came out because he was coming to her. The sky needed to be sure to set the proper scene for him to ensure that Jo couldn’t ignore him in his true form, sunkissed and well-made. So Jo can no longer run or avoid him.

She had been doing just that for the last several weeks. In class she would coast her eyes anywhere he was not and had created an entire unit culminating in short class presentations for extra credit so that she could sit in the back of the class and not look at him. This was perfect until it was his turn.

Harry followed proper presentation etiquette, like the ambitious student out for a first that he was, but his eyes lit up when they fell upon her, like he was a flame and she was oxygen, fire and what fuels it. Jo watched his presentation and knew he had picked it just to press on her buttons. The ones he had installed and found. She had never dated a creative person.

Not that she was dating Harry, but he knew things about her that went without saying. Things no one else knew and she’d never been able to explain.

Harry was talking about Klimt, about The Kiss. And Jo wished she was water, though she was sure that she was liquid. He had always had a soft spot for gilding, from that first golden sunset, and he was talking about the positioning in the painting like he had experienced it.

“The two are intertwined, for certain and both lovers seem engaged to be sure. But the feminine figure is in a position that indicates that she is unsure or uncomfortable with the goings-on,” he said. “It makes one wonder why she is engaged in the embrace, no matter how beautiful the experience is, as evidence by the setting, the gold, and jewels and halos. Perhaps she feels like she should not be? Like, it is wrong, but undeniable. So she submits. Her lover seems to accept the submission, because he’ll take whatever she’ll give him. Her hesitance is in opposition to the dreamy moment. This is the moment after, worse than the morning after, because it’s came even sooner.”

He looks like a lightening bug she had seen in a painting before, all aglow with feeling. She doubted they existed, but had been assured by an Amercian painter she had once known they did, and were magic. Why did he have to be magic? Jo thought as she bit her lip.

But it’s when he moved onto his second painting, because his topic was affection and love in paintings, of course, that he really came alive. He was a lightning rod. The entire class was rigid, though Jo is sure they have all seen a Chagall, especially “The Birthday” before. That thing that makes heads turn when Harry walks into a room was amplified while he focused on the blue toned painting.

“You can see here, by the positioning, that Chagall has created a clear imbalance between his figures. The woman is not only facing away, but she wears a look of absolute surprise. But how can she be, if he has gone out of his way to show her his affection, as the flowers suggests. He came bearing gifts and offers even himself.” Harry looked at Jo then and she knows, she knows, she knows, what he is offering. But she cannot take it.

“The kisser is even more interesting and his desperation clear.” Harry might as well have been in the man’s awkward aspect. “He has literally bent in an unnatural position, perhaps bent over backwards, to show his lady how he feels. It makes me wonder what conversations have been had. How has he told her his heart before he got so desperate he had to show her? What made him take the chance? Is she shocked or affected?”

Affected. Jo is still affected. She could feel a tingle on her lips the next morning and she thought for a moment she should get some ice or some lysine, but then it was not localized, but was instead over both of her lips in their entirety. And in her ears where he had first pulled her to him and her back and hip where his hands had landed. It’s especially in her fingertips where she had trailed his perky pecs. She was watching some promo for a superhero movie and had a momentary kinship with the character who had lightening crackling between her fingertips. The girl had looked afraid. Jo could relate.

Jo knew he felt something. She could only be surer of her own feelings, which were growing and turbulent as the sky before a storm, or she suspected, the firmament before the opening of a black hole. That was the worry, if she stayed still, and accepted his offerings, be they flowers, or another kiss, or even more damning, all of him, she knew it will rip a hole in the fabric of her universe. She would be sucked into his gravity and there would be other things flattened by the mass of their attraction.

Jo wasn’t sure what or why she knew it. She may have just been afraid. She’d never felt this much, ever, except for about her children, and they could not be a casualty of any other emotion. She was a casualty of indifference or disappointment, but at least her parents chose themselves over her. She refused to chose another person.

Jo had been run over and devastated plenty, but never by someone she was as compelled by as Harry. If he made her a casualty she was not likely to recover. That went without experiencing any more of his gravity. So she gave him an A+, he deserved it, for the kiss and his plea in the form of coursework, but she kept streaking like a comet across the sky so he couldn’t catch her.

Harry had made other attempts. He was very determined, Jo had learned and was impressed. He had turned up at her office at all appointed times. Not that he needed to, he was already there. He was there, holding her hands across her desk, and hugging by the door after he came out to uncovering her smile. Harry haunted her room.

But Jo has been extremely lucky there. Each time he trailed after her to try to catch a moment of her time, he had been part of a group. Lara and Cecilia the first time, who had shared long looks and then insisted he go first, and Jo was sure that was just so they could walk and sit beside him. It made her a little petty and she told them to get their final papers in on time, though they were asking for extensions. She was happy another student had arrived by that time and she brought them in all together.

Harry gestured for Matt to go before him. She wasn’t sure if his mood was obvious to Matt as well, but Jo could feel it. He was madder than a bee whose hive had been shaken. He vibrated the way she heard bees can do to kill off attackers. It was a sight to behold. Incensed Harry was incandescent.

Jo agreed to Matt’s request for a retake on a earlier test when he slyly said, “I told Jacob you were the nicest professor in addition to being the prettiest,” She barely caught it, except that Harry’s back stiffened and his glow stick eyes lit on his classmate rather than where they’d been trained on her. She barely noticed the comments anymore.

“Oh really?” Jo began, “I’ve been trying for the most professional in the yearbooks this year.” She gave Matt a look, and she wanted to laugh at herself. Harry should have been scoffing, because he had evidence of just how unprofessional she could be.

Jo looked at Harry then too, and she wasn’t meaning to spread her rebuttal to him as well, but he looked contrite. And when Matt excused himself like she had rapped his knuckles, Harry didn’t pounce like she thought he would. Like he planned to 10 minutes ago

“How can I help you Harry?” She started after a pregnant pause that must have made it to its seventh month at least. Somebody had to say something.

Harry swallowed, “Professor Smith,” his mouth pinched the words. He chewed them for a second like bitter almonds. “I wanted to ask you which painting you thought I should turn in tomorrow.” She knew that was not what he wanted to ask her. Jo was fairly certain her didn’t want to ask much, more wanted her to listen. But she appreciated that he got it, right then, in her office, where she was his professor. This, they, could not happen. She should have been relieved.

Jo was at least sorry. Though those weren’t the same feeling.

“They were both amazing Harry. I think either will get you a first.” The one she thought was her, that’s the one. “The large one, the amber woman of grains. Turn her in. Though I’m not sure how you’ll manage that.” She almost offered help, but held back, and really, all of her motives were ridiculously questionable in that moment.

He nodded and pinched his lip before getting up to go. Jo allowed her eyes to caress down his back to the skinny jeans he favored, she recognized the pulled back corner on the pocket. Those ones and the ones with torn knees were his favorites. She was watching him at the door when he turned back. His mouth opened, and he made eye contact with her, the words a diver poised at the tip Of the springboard.

Her tongue felt dry and she wanted him to ask, she did, but when he walked out wordlessly, she let him.

So, when Jo came to her home days later after a long afternoon, she was susceptible to the brilliant portrait he made. Harry’s head came up at her voice and made her melt onto the pavement below her. She was sure she was as attractive as the ring of wet near a drain after the day she’d had. Not that it mattered she reminded herself. She should not be attractive to him and anything that could kill the tendrils of voltage that hung around them were needed.

“Arry!” Zoe called and Jo was amazed she remembered him at all. It had been some months since swim. He made an impression. Zoe looked fed up at Jo and pulled at her pant leg until she nodded and ran to him. He hoisted her up onto his knee. God, the nose bonk they exchanged was about the cutest thing she had ever seen. No, that was another reason, any man she dated, had to know she came with a ready made family, had a toddler. That was wholly unfair to someone as young as Harry. Even if he wasn’t put off by Zoe in the slightest.

“Missed you bug!” Harry jostled her up and down. His attention was focused on Zoe, like his attention always focused on whoever he was giving it to. So unfair, but Harry was better than Zoe’s own dad with her, by miles.

Speaking of, “Hey loves, we need to get in the house. Daddy is coming.” She faked excitement in her voice. “Remember baby girl?” Zoe gave her a dead eyed look and Jo couldn’t exactly read Harry’s, he looked like a shuttered home, all prepared for a hurricane.

She hoped it was nothing so dramatic. She moved her groceries while everybody got themselves up. When Jo reached the door, Harry took her groceries and her bag once she found her keys and stepped off the step she would never be able to unsee him on.

Jo got them inside and Zoe made a run for the toy that she wanted to show Harry, was full of plans about her upppets. The air stilled and warmed now that she was in the kitchen, in the hearth and heart of her home with him. He’d always been part of their lives, now he seemed to belong here. Jo wanted him to belong here.

She shrugged that off, with a physical motion, “How can I help you Harry?” He didn’t respond, though she could hear him breathing behind her.

Jo turned with eyebrows raised to Harry looking at the floor. At the sight of her toes, he looked up, first at her, then the ceiling. “You said it Jo!” His toes clenched. “If you didn’t want me to…. I told you where I was at….and you said it. Then you kissed me like that. Like that, Jo! You ca….” he stopped and squared his shoulders. She could see the muscles at his temples flexing.

“Har—H!” She really didn’t have a defense for her self, but he seemed so upset and she hated it.

“How could you kiss me like that and then run? Avoid me like you have? You, like, Jo,” her name was a shout, maybe not in volume but emotion. “You cannot fake that feeling, I can still feel it! And then mess me about. I tried….I tried to stop myself for ages, and then you kissed me and gave me all this hope and confirmed everything I could feel between us, and you said it….You said my name, Jo….then you took it away.” He pulled out a chair and collapsed into it then, like he’d been holding his breath waiting to tell her all this and needed a rest now.

“H,” Jo started when Zoe came back into the room and with her newest acquisition, a collection of finger puppets that fit perfectly in her sweaty palms. She rarely relinquished them.

Zoe climbed into the chair Harry had become a broken doll into and laid them out for him. She was chattering on about them and Harry was faking a smile for her. It slowly grew, and Jo felt like shit, or gum on the bottoms of a shoe. She’d made him sad and Zoe was cheering him up with little girl magic.

She didn’t mean to mess him about. She couldn’t help herself. She needed to be better, the space between them was the problem. Jo needed to be all in or out. Out, she needed to be out, anything else was emotionally irresponsible.

She watched Harry put three puppets on his fingers and then four on Zoe’s and she was emotion. Big ones and little ones and all the hope between them.

When the knock sounded, she hurried to the front door with relief. It also made Jo so happy Colin went back to the front door so quickly after he moved out. He did not have back door privilege. She smoothed her hair and then realized she couldn’t be fucked to care. Her bun-and-mum day attire would have to do. The bigger deal, was she was not ready for him. No bag of extra clothes for the accident Zoe seemed to reserve for Colin, though Jo suspected he just didn’t pay enough attention to her to see she was wiggling. Jo hated sending her off, the man was too selfish to be trusted with a child.

This is why it sucks to make a baby with someone not up to the task, she supposed.

“Hey Colin.” She moved back so he could come in. “Took a while to get shopping done. She’s not ready.”

“Where is the little goblin?” Jo hated that nickname.

Colin frowned at her face and she figured it must show. Or there was something on there. She waited until he looked away to wipe it. She didn’t want to show her belly to him, not ever again.

“Oh hey Henry,” she heard Colin say flatly as she came into the kitchen. Zoe was still sitting on Harry’s lap happily, she had moved from playing with her puppets to his rings and she had yet to notice her dad. Jo was ashamed she liked that.

“Hey goblin!” Colin tried to get Zoe’s attention, but she was playing with a pretty carved rose ring on Harry’s finger. Jo saw a flash of a smirk on Harry’s face. “Oi, kiddo, you gonna say hi to your old dad?”

Zoe looked up then and shyly said, “Hi” then made herself smaller in Harry’s lap.

Colin looked at Jo, “Is Ethan home then?” She must have looked puzzled because Harry spoke. And his voice raked over coals.

“Nah, Jo called me just in case, she has a department meeting she has to make, needed a Plan B I guess.” And Harry shrugged like it was no big deal, but Jo was delighted that he knew how often Colin put other things above visitation and left Jo in a lurch, and that Colin knew he knew.

Colin’s usually bland face had some life in response to that, he looked like he’d eaten a lemon. “She ready to go then?”

“Yeah, just let me pack her a bag.” She turned to go and felt every eye on her. Zoe’s was the greedy gaze of love only a toddler feels for its mother, Harry’s she imagined as soft and appreciative, like he looked at an art piece he liked. And she had no idea what Colin’s was. Funny that the man who was her husband was the greatest enigma in her home right now.

“Jo, I like your trousers. Nice fit!” She heard from behind her and looked back, because she knew that tone in Colin’s voice, but it had been absent since her bump popped. She just had on leggings, nothing special or even clean, probably. Jo looked back to be sure and he was giving her that salacious eye that she had craved when she was in her second trimester heat and he’d ignored her needs. She wanted to slap him.

Harry cheeks were red and his jaw was clenched. Thankfully, Zoe was still on his lap. She had better hurry. Jo extended her arm and made sure to keep distance between her and Colin.

While she was in Zoe’s room, Colin had wrangled Zoe onto his hip and he looked like a giraffe in a Tesco for all his comfort. Harry was standing as well, by the door, but didn’t look like he was going to leave until Colin was out of the door.

“I put some extra clothes in there. In case and her pj’s if you think it’ll be later when you bring her back. Then I can just get her in bed.”

“You can change her when she gets back.” Colin deflected and Jo squeezed her fist to keep from telling him that would disrupt her sleep, that should be obvious.

“She’ll prolly just stay asleep if she doesn’t have to be changed though mate. It worked last time Jo got in late with her and I was here with Ethan,” Harry chipped in.

“Think I’ve got it, mate.” Colin looked down his ever so slightly crooked nose at Harry. The younger man stood up to his full six feet and looked at Colin squarely.

“Just seemed like common sense, courtesy, is all.” He shrugged like he couldn’t care, but Jo could kiss him. She wouldn’t, not again, but she wanted to.“Professor, I’m gonna send you a picture of my final submission later, ok? I’d really value your opinion.” That last bit was said with subtle, but detectable sauce.

“Sounds good Harry. You’ll get a first, no doubt!” She smiled to him and reluctantly watched him go. Their conversation was not finished, but he seemed to know she had met her limit today,with Colin and all. Was to considerate of her to force her into more discomfort.

Jo got Colin out the door and fretted while she did grading until he made it back with Zoe three hours later, right on time and in pajamas. He had some shame it seemed. Harry bolstering her in that situation had her smiling as she went to sleep. He was a good person to have on her side.

Late that night, she woke up to a buzzing phone. It was a picture of a night sky, with womanly shapes within the celestial bodies against a turbulent sky.

I know she is everywhere, but tonight I can’t quite find her. Read the accompanying text.

@bleedinglove4h and @nocontrolforlouis-where would I be without you?

#harry styles #harry Styles fanfiction #harry Styles fanfic #harry styles alternate universe #harry styles au #who names the colors #wntc #chapter 8 #starry night #painter au #art fic #one direction #one direction fanfiction

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ruetheend · 7 years

Text

BITTERBLOSSOMS - CHAPTER 6: SNOWDIN FOREST, FELLOW APPRENTICES.

The story so far: Frisk came face-to-face with Sans. A tall, grim-looking Sans who seems unhinged and dangerous. After facing her demise at his hands, she respawns to find a new person stalking her in the woods...

Click to read the chapter below.

Chapter 6

Author’s Note: Best read on AO3. For original readers of this fic who are wondering where all the chapters have gone, check out my update.

"How curious..." The voice from behind the rabbit mask seemed feminine, but Frisk couldn't be certain. "Have you heard of me? It seems you may well have. I do not know you, however, stranger. My apologies."

"Ugh... it's you." Flowey rolled his eyes at the figure. "You scared us half to death, you dumb kid!"

"Hmm... I don't seem to recall you either, flower stranger." The red hooded person tilted their head and lifted a black, gloved hand to their mask. They touched a big X where lips would usually be. The mask reminded Frisk of someone with a perpetual sour face. "Also, I am not a 'dumb kid.' I am a 'dumb' teen..."

"Um, what is going on here? Who are you? Where's Sans- er, the skeleton?" Frisk asked, her voice drenched in confusion at this entire scenario. She felt incredibly alarmed. Even more alarmed than she felt when dealing with Sans a moment ago. Who was this person? Was it one of her other, former friends in some sort of disguise? This person... their white mask and this red robe...

"So... you don't know my identity?" The masked one asked.

"SIGH," Flowey said aloud rather than sighing. "Frisk, this is Hel. She is... just a weird person. It would be best to ignore her. Er... Frisk?" Flowey gave Frisk a solid poke with a leaf.

"Huh???" Frisk nearly dropped Flowey to the ground, but he saved himself by grabbing onto her with a 'hey!' She had been so transfixed on the Hel person's color scheme that she was almost completely lost in her own world. "Who are you, exactly?"

"I am Hel. Just Hel," she replied. "Who I exactly am does not concern you... or maybe it does, I am not quite sure."

"Oooo-kay," Frisk gave a nervous smile. Hel? She rattled the name around in her brain, but couldn't make any connections. "So, Hel, about my previous question-"

"Ah, yes, the skeleton. You are referring to master, I suppose," Hel tilted her head the other way and hummed. "You could tell he was a skeleton? Did you see his face?"

"Oh, um, yeah," Frisk nodded. "He has a big head." Flowey nearly chuckled at that line.

"Yeah, he has a HUUUGE head, that guy. I've never seen a head so big!" Flowey piled on. "Also, he sucks!"

"Hmm, the master does suck sometimes, yes," Hel nodded. "I find it quite interesting you were able to perceive his visage. Most cannot remember his features that well. This must mean... you must be my fellow apprentices!"

"Uhh, apprentices?" Flowey deadpanned.

"Yes," Hel walked past the two of them and took a step onto the bridge. "The fact that you have both seen the master and remember his features... you are certainly his apprentices. The same as I!"

"Just play along, for now, Frisk," Flowey muttered to her. "I've run into Hel a few times, and she is mostly harmless."

"Sure," Frisk whispered back to her flower friend. She called out to Hel, "Definitely. That is us... his other apprentices."

Hel stood with her back turned to the pair and hummed contemplatively for a moment. Then she turned and suddenly announced, "This makes me an elder apprentice! I have leveled up!" Frisk and Flowey exchanged looks like they already regretted their life choices. "What are your names, my fellow apprentices?"

"Frisk."

"Flowey."

"Frisk and Flowey!" Hel rubbed the bottom of her rabbit mask like it was her own chin. "Very well, you must be properly initiated." Hel dropped her hand and it disappeared into her red robes. "Frisk, you look very much like a human. It is quite uncanny."

"It sure is," Flowey blurted out with a laugh. "Frisk is all fleshy with hair mostly on her head, just like a human would be!"

"... hmm, that is an interesting take," Hel tilted her head. "I was referring to her appearance juxtaposed to those images found in the human histories. However..." Hel scurried up, bringing her mask right up to Frisk's face. Frisk could practically smell Hel's breakfast... which seemed to be very sugary smelling. "Your eyes, Frisk, aren't quite as large as a human. But... MK doesn't know that." Frisk couldn't see it, but she could hear a large smile in that last phrase.

Hel pulled back and nodded at Flowey and Frisk. "Let us proceed with the initiation. Follow me."

The trio walked over the bridge and reached Sans' sentry point. The sentry point was there and so was Sans! His head rested in his arms, his whole head obscured by his hood and fluffy looking sleeves. Frisk thought he looked incredibly comfortable and had a sudden urge to cuddle up with him.

"Behold, our infamous ice-human," Hel gestured at an ice sculpture that seemed to have taken the place of the convenient lamp. Frisk gasped for a moment, as it reminded her of this universe's Chara. Flowey, too, looked unsettled. "This is our reminder of what a human looks like... it has been a long time since one fell down, you see." Hel nodded along with her explanation. "Anyway, just stand behind it. Flowey... be a flower!"

Frisk obliged Hel's request, placing Flowey down on the ground next to Ice-Chara. Flowey pretended to be a normal flower. Hel clapped her hands together, exclaiming, "Perfect! It is amazing how easily you seem to be obscured behind this ice-human..." Hel sounded delighted and malicious all at once. "Now... I see my friend coming toward us. On cue, please step out from behind that ice-human."

Frisk could see through the convenient Ice-Chara well enough. She could see Monster Kid running up to greet Hel.

"Yo, duuuude!" MK shouted excitedly as they ran up to Hel. "Guess what! I totally snuck into the Grimly Ghoulies concert last night!"

"Truly?" Hel sounded incredibly amused. She must have one of the worst poker faces behind that mask. "Did you have a fantastic time?"

"I sure did! I managed to get so close up, dude," MK hopped up and down. They seemed like a soda pop ready to explode. "Raghast even LOOKED at me, dude!!! I think some of his spittle landed on my face! I haven't bathed at all yet!"

"Hmmm, I'm pretty sure that was probably motor oil," Hel giggled. "That explains that black splotch on your face..."

"Anyway, you called me last night and said you had a total premonition, right?" MK beamed at Hel. "Something really cool was gonna happen as long as I came here, to this spot, at the exact time... which is pretty soon, right dude?"

"Oh, yes," Hel nodded eagerly. "I had a dream that a prophecy would be realized soon and that it would all... begin... right... now!"

That was her cue, Frisk was certain of it. She stepped out from behind the Ice-Chara. Flowey regrew his face but otherwise didn't do anything.

"AHHH! A HUMAN!!!" MK shouted, then jumped in front of Hel. "D-Don't worry, dude! I-I'll protect you!!!"

"Oh my stars~!" Hel gave one of the fakest performances Frisk had ever seen. "Whatever shall we do~? A human has fallen at last, but at what cost~?"

"Dude, let's go and warn everyone!!!" MK looked over at the sleeping Sans and their face faulted. "Er, the boss is here! Whatever happens, he can handle it! Let's beat it!" With that, MK ran away.

Hel laughed and laughed. Something about the laugh sounded familiar, but Frisk couldn't quite place it. "Um... so, was that good?"

"Yes! You are officially an apprentice of the master of Snowdin," Hel nodded repeatedly. "We got MK quite good... let's keep this jape afloat, yes?" Hel sounded a bit pleading. "I'll see you up ahead." With that, Hel turned and left with a skip in her step.

"What the hell was that about?" Frisk picked up Flowey once Hel was completely out of view. As she said the words, she heard Sans utter a chuckle. Flowey and Frisk both quickly turned to look at the sleeping skeleton, but he seemed to still be conked out. They both breathed a sigh of relief. "If he is anything like the one from my time... he will be out for quite a while."

"Are you sure?" Flowey cast a suspicious glance at him. "That crazy trashbag," Flowey shook his head. "I thought Snowdin would be the safest place on this trip, but it looks like it might've ended up more dangerous than we bargained for... You know..." Flowey looked up at Frisk with an apologetic look. "You can just... hard reset and go back to the ruins."

"About that," Frisk eyed Sans one last time, then whispered to Flowey, "I can't... I'm actually without those... extended options."

"That's great," Flowey said in a chipper voice. "Fantastic!"

"Shh! This guy is not exactly like the other one," Frisk hid somewhat behind the convenient Ice-Chara. "Try not to make loud noises or tell any jokes."

"Oh, that will be really hard for me to do."

Frisk investigated the Ice-Chara. It had a remarkable resemblance to him, but upon closer inspection, his face was different. He had huge, bishounen eyes and a wide, toothless grin. "Wow, this just... it looks like him, doesn't it?"

"Yeah, it does." Flowey replied simply. "Except that stupid face."

The temptation in her rose as her curiosity grew. Frisk simply had to inspect Sans and his sanstry station. She chuckled along with the sleeping Sans. Wait? Can he read my thoughts!? Nothing happened. It must have just been a coincidence. The human approached him carefully, and she could feel Flowey grow tense as they neared him. He didn't dare say a word, however, so close to the sleeping monster. Scattered around on the inside were various objects. Ketchup bottles, a few, small, thin clear cases with what looked like black tape wound up inside of them, and a set of playing cards- wait, no. A set of tarot cards? The one showing at the top was of two small figures being thrown from an exploding tower. That looked a bit metal.

Frisk looked down at the sleeping Sans. His face covered by that dark hood. She raised her hand and reached for it. Frisk really wanted to see his face again. Flowey lashed out a viney whip and restrained her grasp. Their eyes met, and Flowey simply shook his head at her. She sighed and realized Flowey was right. She walked away.

In the next area, Frisk saved at the usual save point. It was located there along with the strange, interdimensional box.

"Why did you try to touch that guy?" Flowey asked simply as Frisk opened the box. "You aren't stupid... You know he is totally dangerous, right?"

"I guess... I missed his face?" Frisk stated as evenly as she could. Her face turned a bit pink as she pulled out a pair of gloves from the box and inspected them very closely. They were worn, pink leather gloves. Same as usual. She wondered why it was still here... in the same box. With a shrug, she placed them back into the box, along with the human items she found from the ruins.

"You missed his face?" Flowey frowned as he noticed the pink creeping on Frisk's face. "You kind of broke down while talking to him earlier, you know, when you started to say whatever it was that made him start flipping out."

"The word has to do with his name, which I guess no one can say or even hear?" Frisk pondered aloud. "This kind of seems familiar to me... I feel like I heard about this happening before, in that other universe... but I also just can't seem to remember it either."

"Did you date him in that other universe?" Flowey asked abruptly. "Is he like your boyfriend or something???"

"W-What! N-No..." Frisk protested a bit too hard. "We never dated or anything..."

"Sure." Flowey sounded as hurt as he was curt. "I just think the way you are acting is kind of weird."

"Fine... I had a crush on him, okay?" Frisk admitted as she moved forward toward Snowdin town. "It was weird, just, growing up in the Underground, but then resetting everytime I reached the end."

"Resetting every time? I guess you didn't free everyone in one go, huh," Flowey whistled for a straight 5 seconds. "That's rough..."

"Hah hah, no thanks to you, buddy," Frisk clucked at her flower friend as they traveled.

"What do you mean! I wasn't there."

"Yeah, but the other you was... the yellow one," Frisk nodded matteroffactly as she explained. "You see, the other Flowey, he was kind of... incredibly awful. I used to reach King Asgore and hope that Flowey would give up and let me just... stay in the Underground. In the beginning, I wasn't really looking to save everyone actually..." Frisk admitted. This was the first time she could ever talk to someone about this. It felt strange.

"Really? What were you trying to do?" Flowey asked.

"Well... I just wanted to go home." Flowey stopped walking and looked up to the cavern ceiling. She never noticed how low it seemed until then. It felt like they were standing in a giant dome, but even so, the sky above ground didn't have a ceiling. "I was really scared. I thought Toriel was trying to eat me the first time through, Undyne and Mettaton genuinely tried to kill me a ton of times, and Asgore would never listen to me until it was too late. But..." Frisk looked down at Flowey. "I guess the two skeletons in Snowdin... they were always nice to me. One of them is your King Papyrus here, and the other is his brother-"

"The guy whose name can't be said?" Flowey guessed.

"Yeah, that same guy." Frisk nodded. "I know it sounds strange to you, but they are related in my universe. I guess they might not be in this one..."

"I don't think so... the king is such a cool guy," Flowey nodded back. "Sometimes he would come around and play with me when my parents were too busy doing their jobs... I guess being a king has a clear schedule."

"I don't know if that sounds right," Frisk gave him a small smile. "But the first time I ended up in the middle of nowhere, after fighting the big scary version of you, I got a phone call from Sans."

"Just call him Skeleton Guy or something," Flowey waved his leaf at her. "Hear you say whatever you are saying kind of makes my head hurt."

"Anyway, yes, I got a call from the Skeleton without a Name," Frisk rolled her eyes. She wondered how quickly she would get annoyed when it came to talking about Sans to other people in this universe. "He called me, and told me not to give up. Papyrus butted in and told me he was doing fine and not to worry about him."

"That does sound like something the king would say."

"Papyrus was always very kind..." Frisk looked off in the distance. "He was loud and obnoxious as heck... Even in that first run, I wasn't scared of him at all. He was always bragging about how cool he was... but I believed it. I still believe it, you know?"

"That definitely sounds like him!" Flowey chimed. "The king would always declare fun holidays randomly. Like, 'Snowy bologna day.'"

"I guess our Papyrus' are the same..." Frisk looked away from Flowey as she wiped at her eyes with a free hand. "T-That's good..."

"Did you have a crush on him too!?" Flowey exclaimed at her gesture.

"N-No!" Frisk blushed an even deeper shade of red.

"Sure..." Flowey sighed.

"Look, I had limited options, okay!" Frisk rolled her eyes at him, flustered. "Anyway, once I was on the surface, my small crush on he who cannot be mentioned by name got pretty heavy. He was funny, he was always nice to me, and I just kind of grew a thing for him."

"I guess it helps that he is tall, huh..." Flowey said grimly as he eyed his own body.

"Huh? Oh no," Frisk waved away the issue. "It had nothing to do with looks... he is short in my universe."

"What? He's short?" Flowey raised a brow. "How short?"

"Um... about this tall?" Frisk held a hand up to her collarbone. "He's probably only 4 foot tall..."

Flowey turned a bit purple. "I-I see... cool, cool."

"Anyway... I think I see MK and Hel ahead... Guess we should be prepared for whatever they have in store for us." Flowey nodded at Frisk's words as they entered the next area.

#undertale fanfiction #undertale au #bitterblossoms #bitterblossomsAU #flowey #frisk #sans #hel #monster kid #papyrus #frans

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mimikoflamemaker · 5 years

Note

Hey, do you have any head canons about Lithien that readers might not know? Ones that aren't spoilers of course.;-)

What is this? A random question about my fic?! Thank you so much!! That would be a first and i am honestly beyond excited to get it ;)

Now, whenever I think about some facts pertaining to Lithien I always try to think how they would incorporate into the great river that her story is, but let’s face it - I would need a lifetime and then some to write it all down ^^’ JoO is the last slice of it so to speak and we are starting the 6th year of working on it with book I not even done yet (but soon)… I think I can as well share some.

About my LotR AU in general: if only to show you what kind of nerd I really am - I planned (or at least thought about) not only Lithien’s story since she was born, but also about the stories of her family, which, except for Galaren, involves her other older brother Authion, and her parents Daugion and Belluthiel. And somehow I ended up with a plot dating back to the Years of Trees and filled with plenty of your favorites…

Lithien’s name. I think this is one of my favourites - so, I was 11 (or 12) when Lithien first came to be and her name first was simply because I took Luthien and swapped a letter. Luthien was cool. I wanted my character to be cool too. Fast forward to me being around 20 and stumbling a bit deeper into sindarin. Lo, and behold ‘lith’ now means dirt/ashes. Lithien is not a cool name anymore, but it is also an integral part of my girl (I don’t change characters name once give, because to me it’s like creating a completely new person) and I can’t just rip it off. So I now have ‘Child of the Ashes’ glaring at me in mild offence - her back story helped me. I just included a bit where Daugion named her while still filled with grief after the death of ger wife, which he subconsciously blamed his newborn daughter for. Grieving people sometimes don’t think clearly. And I gifted her with a nice, fitting eppese later on.

Lithien’s occupation. Never once in any of his text Tolkien mentions that elven women were forbidden to take up arms. They just rarely did it. And when they did they could be just as badass as men. So I built on that and hile I think that female soldiers/wardens were not your everyday occurrence, they were not as much of a rarity as one would think (for one, one of Lithien’s fellow wardens Belfaer is also a woman). Lithien went into that with her eye wide open, knowing full well what that choice would entail. And she never regretted it. Later when she was out of commission due to injury and went to live in Rivendell, she picked up some knowledge about healing, but she was never a full-fledged healer. What I find the most interesting about it is that, personality wise, Lithien was the closest thing to what her father would deem to be a perfect heir - Resilient, courageous and living by the sword so to speak. Unfortunately, she was a girl. So the title fell on Galaren, who does his job well and is a formidable warrior, but he would be much more content with his life if he could have chosen a different path for it - whether it would be a healer or a hunter.

A few little facts from Lithien’s childhood: Galaren was the one who tried to be both a brother and a father where their could not be. He still wonder’s if Lithien would have come out to be a bit more lady-like if she had only spent more time in the company of women instead of his friends. Lithien on the other hand wouldn’t change a thing. Speaking of friends - Maethion, Galaren’s best friends (his brother from another mother really :) ) was the one to steal Lithien’s first kiss. and she was barely considered an adult then. It almost came to knives then. Also, stay tuned for more Maethion in JoO - his role expanded for beyond what I initially had planned for him. When Lithien was still a wee tiny self and feeling lonely because Galaren wasn’t home much, he gifted her with a dog - a great black hound that she could ride like a pony if she wished. Lithien was a dog person ever since.

Early on (for an elf) in her career as a warden, Lithien took part in a skirmish with orcs. When she jumped in to protect her fallen comrade she herself was wounded - the blade caught her in the side, tearing the skin and muscle from her hip almost to her spine on the other side. She barely survived that. Galaren, absolutely devastated forced her to swear off being a warden. Lithien relented and took up the position at the Royal Palace. There she met Celebrian, who took pity upon the girl and whisked her away to Rivendell as her personal maid.

Lithien never felt like a maid, more like another child. She got on well with all three of their children and found herself with the growing admiration for Elrond. He made a lot of strong friendships there and met a men she fell in love with. It was a great time. The best time. She would have probably remained there if it wasn’t for what happened to Celebrian and Calanon. But she never forgot to come back for a visit, which sometimes taken years (what is a couple of years to an elf?)

Glorfindel was the one who encouraged her to pick up the sword again, clearly seeing that needle will never become her weapon of choice. Galaren is still jealous that she got to train with him though he will never admit it out loud.

During one of her visits to Rivendell, Lithien met Gilaren, Aragorn’s mother. Her life was never the same since that point onward. I still plan on writing a story based on this premise, but let’s just say that I shifted years a wee bit and Gilraen came to Rivendell pregnant and not with 3yo Aragorn. The two bonded over time, despite Lithien being terrified at first and hovering over Gilraen at every step. She was also one of the first people to hold tiny Aragorn. It was a love at first sight.

Lithien did travel a fair bit over the years. Mostly to Rivendell true, but she was also in Isengards twice, saw a bit of Rohan, and trudged Northern lands with Dunedain for about 15 years. She also briefly visited Mirkwood, had a chance to meet the people of Beor, saw the Lonely Mountain, the Lake Town and the Ruins of Dale. She was in Moria twice, but that’s not worth mentioning.

Dunedain are Lithien’s favourite and best known group of people. Not only because they are Aragorn’s people, but also because she got to travel and live with them for about 15 years after the events of the Hobbit (just enough time to allow one’s hair to grow back) It was a harsh lesson sometimes, but Lithien wouldn’t change it for anything else.

Lithien’s favorite ‘lady-like’ activity is dancing. Probably because it involves a lot of movement. She is no stranger to needle work or playing harp or singing, but dancing plays well with her dislike of sitting idly, doing nothing.

Despite the initial panic Lithien turned out to be rather great with kids of all races. This might have something to do with wanting to prove that she can do better than what she knows, but she will never admit it. Besides she does really like children.

I still have a burning desire to write a fill up story in this AU with includes the scenario in which Maglor did not die/drown. What I’ve written so far includes a hunt, a great deal of distrust, wounds and blows to the back of the head… But since I never know where to stop once I’ll start a writing project…

And finally, because I’m going to run out of post space - Lithien name’s all of her horses Pilin (arrow). Yes, I shamelessly stole the idea from Geralt, but really - Lithien is an elf. She goes through A LOT of horses, even if they don’t expire before their time. And keeping your loyal companion nameless is not exactly her style.

#journey of oaths #answers answers #darkwolf76 #you asked? ;)

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ladyselene · 7 years

Text

Sky of Endless Love: Chapter 1 (Y!!!OI Fic)

AO3

Chapter 2

Inspired by the wonderful Day & Night AU by @beanpots. Please pay their lovely blog a visit!

Series: Yuri!!! On Ice

Rating: G (Will change in later chapters due to sexual themes.)

Words: 3 200+

Warnings: Dramatic mythos, mutual yearning, and an overdose of figurative cheddar cheese true to my style (read: eventual fluffy love and romance). Phichit is the Best Friend™ in the entirety of the galaxy, Yuuri and Victor are smitten and pining dorks, and Yurio is done.

Summary: In a Realm far above the Earth, the King of Day leaves behind roses of vivid red - all in the hopes of having his feelings reach the King of Night.

Meanwhile, Yuuri wonders why Victor keeps dropping his roses.

(More notes can be found at the end of the fic.)

In times long past, at the Beginning of All, there came to be the Sun and the Moon, guardians of Earth.

The Sun was older of the two deities. They were noble and radiant, burning ever brightly, and under their light life would always awaken, blooming and prospering. Other deities held the Sun in adoration, and in time the humans of the Earth would also gaze upon the Sun’s glory, singing songs of reverence of the wonders that their golden rays brought to life upon land.

The Moon came not long after the Sun. They were gentle and beautiful, guiding the lost and carrying on their head a veil of rest that they would cover the Earth with, and under which the weary could sleep. But the Moon was weighed down by a heavy heart - for unlike the Sun and the stars that were theirs to care for, the Moon did not shine, and so they isolated themselves in shame.

Yet it happened that the Sun once crossed paths with the Moon, who was gracefully dancing among the stars in a quiet corner of the Milky Way. Upon their meeting, the Sun fell deeply in love, and in their eyes no one had ever shined so brightly. The Moon had always admired the Sun from afar, encountering the radiant deity in their most wonderful dreams time after time, and in their heart love also lay hidden. Their feelings only grew as the Sun and Moon opened their hearts to one another, dancing together in the vast heavens, guarding the young Earth together side by side. In time, the golden rays that the Sun showered upon the Moon in love and adoration turned into a silver glow of their own, their lights mingling together and painting the sky in vibrant colours, and for a long time they embraced each other in the sky.

However, their happiness soon became frowned upon. The rest of the galaxy could not fathom why the revered and radiant Sun, adored by all, would have fallen in love with the sensitive and demure Moon. Envy grew in their hearts towards the Moon who, in their eyes, had stolen the Sun away, and the humans of the Earth grew equally envious, feeling that the Sun’s rays now shone more upon the Moon than their lands.

This caused a heavy burden to once more grow silently and steadily in the heart of the Moon. As dearly as they loved the Sun, the Moon became pained with doubt and fear, and in time they could no longer believe themselves worthy of love, or trust in the sincerity of the Sun’s feelings. Hoping to be selfless and free the Sun from the spell they thought was holding their beloved captive, the Moon tried to run away, but their hand was grasped by another. It was the Sun, pleading for the Moon to remain by their side.

“If you love me, you will let me go,” cried the Moon.

“If you love me, you will stay,” the Sun cried back.

But the Moon could not bring themselves to stay any longer. With great pain in their heart, the Moon bid farewell to the Sun, fleeing as their beloved was left behind, paralyzed by the shock of their loss.

Their parting was a shared regret. With every moment apart, their heartache only grew. After a time, the Sun and Moon both began to look for the other, wishing to mend their bond - but unbeknownst to them, they were running in a circle around the Earth, always on opposite sides, always reaching for the back of the other. The Sun and Moon continued to yearn for one another, weaving together a broken story of love. Yet hope remained in their hearts, even as deep sorrow gnawed away relentlessly at their core. In time they both knew they could not go on any longer - but there was something they could do.

The Sun and The Moon both used the last of their powers to create new life, embedding their spirit and magic into beings of their own. From the Sun came Day: a being created from golden rays, clouds and their silver linings, of bright blue sky and various shades of light. From the Moon came Night: a being made from silver moonlight, the softness of the veil of rest, from glimmering stars, shadows and the dark blue sky. After giving life to Day and Night, the Sun and Moon enclosed their souls into orbs of light that would forever shine upon the domains of their children. In their hearts, they pleaded for the Universe to guide their two rulers together – for through them, the Sun and the Moon could also be united once again.

If only a brighter eternity could be born, springing from another tale in history.

—

“Another one?”

Dusk had just fallen by the call of its Herald, and Yuuri, King of Night, stood in front of a throne of silver and gold, picking up a rose of vivid red that sat upon it. A vibrant flora of the same kind had been devotedly greeting him in the Sky Court for a long time now, always on the throne on his arrival.

“Hey, Yuuri, what do you have there?”

Phichit - Herald of Dawn, Viceroy of the Moon Realm, and Night’s most beloved friend since eons ago - made his way behind him, resting his chin on Yuuri’s cloak-covered shoulder and noting the flower in Night’s silver-blue hands with great curiosity.

“Phichit,” the King of Night acknowledged his Viceroy, eyes fixated upon the flower with a look of interest and slight worry. “It’s another rose. Victor must have dropped it again,” Yuuri answered, thoughtful. “Strange… this has been happening for weeks now.”

Phichit’s eyes lit up at the words, and he straightened his back, fingers drawing to his chin in thought. “Weeks, you say? Isn’t that a bit too much to be an accident?”

Yuuri turned his head around to look at his friend, brows furrowed in a silent question of What do you mean? But it only made Phichit grin.

“That can only mean one thing,” Phichit continued, the upward curve of his lips widening, the stars in his dark eyes twinkling. Suddenly, Yuuri understood. His eyes opened wide and his cheeks were quickly dusted with a deep blue, and he stammered.

“No, no, no, don’t say it–”

But it was all in vain, for of course Phichit would say it.

“He totally likes you!” the Viceroy chirped, and the thought made Yuuri’s heart feel wrecked and much too warm.

“Eeeh?” his voice rushed out of him in the form of something akin to a squeak, embarrassment and disbelief making him sound less than regal. “N-no, that’s not it, I think,” Yuuri said, and the blue tint on his features deepened. “He loves the gardens of Sun Realm. Maybe he likes to decorate with the flowers, or wear them…”

Phichit was having none of it. Typical Yuuri, to not believe the good that’s in front of him. This needed further prodding.

“So, when did this start, exactly?” he inquired.

“After the Celebration of the Solar Eclipse,” said Yuuri.

“The Solar Eclipse?” Oh, the things I miss out on!” Phichit wailed.

The Eclipse Celebrations were grand gatherings upon which the kings and the people of the two Heavenly Realms – the Realm of the Sun and the Realm of the Moon - would come together at the Court of the Sky, which resided in the middle of their kingdoms. Eclipses are created when Day and Night join each other at the balcony of the Sky Court’s castle, the highest peak of the Middle Realm that overlooked all of Earth, and use their powers to position the Sun and the Moon beside each other in the Heavens. The Eclipses came in Solar and Lunar forms, and though they differed, they created equally beautiful sights for the Earth and Sky to behold.

Under normal circumstances, the Herald of Dusk would take part in the celebrations along with the King of Night, but a supernova had just occurred in one of the Moon Realm’s constellations during the eve of the Eclipse: tending to the stars was a task that Yuuri had always personally seen to, but only the Night King could raise the Moon for the celebration – and so Phichit had stayed behind and taken charge as Night’s Viceroy when Yuuri’s priority called him to the gathering. It had certainly not been the same without Phichit by his side.

“I don’t think you missed out on much,” Yuuri offered in consolation.

“But something obviously happened, for Day to shower you with roses!” Yuuri had that uncertain frown again, looking like he might protest, but Phichit gave a gentle squeeze to his arm and pressed on. “Come now, Yuuri. King Victor leaves a rose on the Sky Throne at the end of each day, for weeks? I doubt they’d fall on the throne if they were sewn into his clothes, and one rose makes for a bland decoration! They’re a sign of affection - he must have fallen for you during this Solar Eclipse!”

“Somehow, I find that really hard to believe,” was Yuuri’s quiet response.

“Yuuri, you have no reason to think that,” Phichit assured him. “Think back to the party, did something happen? Did you finally manage to talk to him properly?”

“I… no. Honestly, I can’t recall. I think I slept through most of the celebration.”

“You slept?” Phichit repeated.

“After creating the Eclipse,” Yuuri elaborated, struggling to remember the rest, “I think I might have drank too much, and fell asleep when everyone was still mingling. I only remember being woken up afterwards by Otabek.”

For a moment, his Viceroy only stared, stunned, and Yuuri felt embarrassed at the thought of falling asleep at a gathering with all their people present. Despite being a beloved and respected ruler in his realm, he had never been one for crowds, and did not fare well with them – Phichit had always been the more social of the two.

After a few seconds of wide-eyed staring, Dusk let out a melodic sound of laughter. “Oh, Yuuri,” Phichit said. “This is what happens when I leave you alone!”

“It’s hardly funny,” Yuuri protested, though a smile tugged at his lips in the light of Phichit’s joy.

“I personally think it’s very funny,” Phichit replied airily.

“Phichit,” Yuuri said through an escaped chuckle, and gently elbowed his friend’s arm in mock punishment.

The Viceroy conceded. “Okay, okay. So, can you tell me what you did to the roses?”

“I asked them to be returned.”

“You returned them?!”

The King of Night looked mournful. “They can’t survive without the Sun. If I took them with me, they would wilt in a heartbeat.”

“Oh… you’re right,” Phichit realized. “But Yuuri, you have to do something! Answer his call. How long have you yearned for him?”

Yuuri wondered into the depths of his memories. His first encounter with Victor, eons ago, happened in the clear blue of the Realm of Sky, above the Earth. Yuuri was so young then, created not long ago, still struggling with grasping life and wandering aimlessly in the vastness of the Heavens.

Then, he saw Victor dancing.

Out of all that Yuuri has witnessed in his existence, it remained the most beautiful sight. The strands of Day’s long hair were made out of silver linings and his skin of pale white light, and the blue sky lived in his eyes. Victor moved as gracefully as air and shined as brilliantly as the Sun, and as he danced in the Sky with a smile on his face and created clouds as he twirled, Day did not look lost at all – he looked, Yuuri thought, as if he had found himself. Night could only gaze upon him, entranced.

Then, he found purpose.

But Yuuri had never managed to truly connect with King Victor of the Sun. Their paths have crossed countless times, as Day and Night, as kings, but there was an aching feeling of distance in Yuuri’s heart that he had never managed to cut away. It felt as if the Sky was there to separate them even as they would stand together to create an Eclipse, or when they would see each other in the Middle Realm above the Earth, raising the Sun and the Moon in their turn. Victor was too mesmerizing, and burned too brightly. Yuuri had come to consider his fate blessed for simply being able to see him, however briefly.

But this. Yuuri was still struggling to admit that this was happening – that the red rose that had now come to sit upon the throne Day and Night shared would truly be for him. The thought of having Victor’s affection made him so happy that the possibility of it being a misunderstanding was painful.

“It’s been too long, Yuuri,” Phichit spoke from beside him, calling him back to reality. “Answer him,” he repeated.

The Dusk Herald’s encouragement was not in vain. It would have been a lie to say that he was not bothered by doubt, but Yuuri had already come to a conclusion in his heart. I don’t want to throw this chance away.

He gave Phichit a nod of determination.

“At the end of the next day,” said Yuuri, “I’ll answer him.” Phichit smiled in response.

“Now we’re talking! Well then, My King, I think it’s about time.”

“Right.”

Dusk fell, giving way to Night as Yuuri summoned the Moon to shine upon the Earth along with the stars. The small Moon around Yuuri’s neck, crafted from a small fragment of the silver orb, transformed along it to take the shape of a waning crescent. As he sat upon the throne, he found himself gazing at the rose again, still holding it with gentle fingers.

“It’s really beautiful,” said Phichit.

“Mm,” Yuuri agreed.

“Will I have it returned?”

“Yes, please.”

—

“He loves me, he loves me not…”

“Victor.”

“He loves me not, he loves me…”

“Oi, Victor!”

Dawn roared at the King of Day, looking at the sight in front of him in irritation. Victor had been daydreaming the time away in his chambers, currently plucking away the petals of a daisy as his beloved dog lay beside him, and speaking absolute nonsense that his Viceroy had just about had enough of.

When he heard a familiar voice shouting his name, Victor turned around to see Yuri standing at the entrance, a frown on his face and a pile of papers stacked under his arm.

“Ah, Yuri,” Victor smiled in greeting and stood up, setting a half-plucked daisy on the bed before making his way to the Dawn Herald. “I didn’t hear you coming.”

“What a surprise,” Yuri huffed in response. “Here,” he shoved the papers to Victor, “Reports on the Sun’s condition.”

“Okay, thanks. I’ll get to these in a moment. Is there anything else?”

“You’ve been ridiculous ever since the party and you need to stop,” the Viceroy added.

The Day King laughed. “That’s hardly what I meant by asking.”

Yuri hesitated. Then, “The rose got returned.”

Ah.

Victor smiled, eyes downcast. “I see.”

“I still don’t get why you’re being like this.”

“It’s love,” he answered. “I can’t help it.”

During the past several weeks, Victor had always left a red rose to sit upon the Sky Throne after every summoned day. He hoped that they would send his feelings to wherever the King of Night wandered.

After the Eclipse, Victor had not stopped thinking about Yuuri.

The celebration had begun as always: Yuuri joined him at the balcony of the Sky Castle as their people would bear witness from below, and the beings of Earth from lands far away. He would greet Night with his warmest smile, and Night would smile softly in response before turning his head away. They would raise the Sun and the Moon together, and then part too quickly as Yuuri left in haste. Victor had never run after him, but it had never meant that he would not have wanted them to remain side by side, even if a little longer. For eons Victor had mournfully wondered if Yuuri had grown to dislike him for a reason or another: was that why he never stayed? Perhaps he did not want to be any closer than need be?

Only then, during a Solar Eclipse that Victor had assumed to be like any other, everything changed, and all was no longer as always. As Victor’s eyes followed Yuuri, he noted how his fellow king had busied himself with the wine made from the grapes of the Sun-kissed gardens of Day’s realm. It was rare for him to drink – Victor gathered it was due to the absence of Dusk, who so often was the company of the demure Night. But when Yuuri eventually slipped away from the crowd and travelled deeper into the halls of the castle, Victor could not help but follow.

Then, Yuuri asked him for a dance. And dance they did.

As they moved together to the rhythm of echoing music, side by side and fingers intertwined, Victor could feel himself come to life. He was always held in reverence as the King of Day, and the burden of that title was greater than anyone would believe - but for a moment in time, there were no restrictions or expectations to hold him down, nor a need for forced smiles. It was a feeling of warmth that he had forgotten long ago.

They danced and laughed the day away, holding each other tightly as they did, and Victor found himself hoping he could stay in Yuuri’s embrace for the rest of eternity. That wish did not quite come true… but it was alright, Victor thought, in the light of the other gift Yuuri gave him before they parted. With sparkling stars in his eyes and deep blue dust on his cheeks, he gave him words.

“When it’s time for the Lunar Eclipse, won’t you dance together with me in the Sky?”

Upon an Eclipse, Victor had come to life, and fallen in love.

“Hey, Idiot King.”

Ah. I completely forgot.

Victor blinked his eyes in order to wake himself from the reverie. “What is it, Yuri?”

“If it’s such a big deal, why don’t you just go and see him already? The King of Night.”

“That wouldn’t do,” replied Victor.

“Why?” Dawn pressed, uncomprehending.

“Because I need an answer from him first,” Victor told him. He had loved every moment they had spent together during the Eclipse, but he had not heard from Yuuri since then as he thought he would. Victor had expressed his feelings with red roses, the flowers that spoke of love in the language of the flora, in the hopes of reaching Yuuri’s heart and encouraging him to call for him in kind.

Yet the messengers of his love kept coming back without a word, and he knew not why.

“It sure doesn’t seem like you’re getting an answer,” Yuri said, and his frown deepened. “Really, how long are you going to keep this up? I can’t look at this.”

Victor hummed in thought. He walked to the large windows on the opposite side of the room, and looked at the colourful gardens below, alive with Sun and Earth flora alike. If only he could make Yuuri understand how long he had been dreaming of him.

And then an idea came to him, and the blue of his eyes sparkled.

“I’ve decided!”

The Viceroy stared at him. “Hah?”

“I know what I’m going to do,” Victor declared. “This time, I can reach his heart.”

- To Be Continued. -

Sara’s notes: This fic could alternatively be titled: “The Tale of the Two Pining Kings”. *laughs*

As formerly mentioned, this story was inspired by the AU created by beanpots, and you can follow everything related to the story here. I fell in love the moment I saw this picture, and then the AU just kept getting more wonderful, and I became inspired. I love Y!!!OI dearly, so I’m happy to finally contribute to the series. (Thank you, @beanpots, for the AU and for igniting that spark in me!)

Oh, also: I imagined the characters to be something akin to the gods of Greek mythology, so hence the human-like customs and behaviour. I also wanted to stay true to the canon as much as I could. This chapter was mostly dedicated to building up the story, but don’t worry, Victor and Yuuri will certainly see each other in the future.

Thank you very much for reading, and be well!

#sara's writings #yuri!!! on ice #yuri!!! on ice fic #yoi #yoi fic #day and night au #katsuki yuuri #katsuki yuri #victor nikiforov #viktor nikiforov #victor x yuuri #phichit chulanont #yuri plisetsky #sky of endless love

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