Yuki Gasly | PG10

Hello luv 💞 so I was listening to Lover's Oath and I had a thought,,, what if Huxian/Fox God! Reader has been with Zhongli even before the war, they fought by his side and after the War they got together but reader hasn't shaken off from their mind Zhongli's look of anguish and loss when Guizhong died in his arms. Reader decides that it might be better if Guizhong was there instead of them, so reader finds someone who could bring her back,,, imagine theres a scene where Zhongli and Guizhong looks at each other through the crowd, not noticing that reader smiles bitterly within the crowd and heads home to pack and leave Liyue, reader still feels happy for both of them. BUTTTTT Zhongli really loves reader, not Guizhong, she really was just his close friend. Imagine how shocked he'd be when he comes home earlier to tell reader the news and he catches them in her big fox form with luggage in mouth, about to leave. I'm feeling an angst to fluff kind of story if you don't mind d request,,,

Who you pretend I am

(Zhongli x fellow god! gn! reader)

ANON U ARE SO BIG BRAINED <3 Your ideas... CHEFS KISS <3 I had to do a LOT of research on Chinese mythology and genshin lore cus...that hole is deep, but I hope I did your idea justice!! Im ngl i was tearing up writing this--- title was inspired by "Wahing machine heart" by Mitski because I started thinking about the lyrics a lot as I wrote this

Length: 6. 8 k

Genre: Angst with a happy ending

cw: mentions of violence and blood, character death (not reader) and self-deprecating feelings

It is said that long before the archon wars raged across the land - long before the god Morax became the revered Rex Lapis, even preceding the connection of the Lord of Geo and Ruler of Clouds, another soul resided beside the Geo archon.

A young adeptus was all Morax had been, a spirit guided by lust for glory and violence - brute force with no wit to match. That was what he had been when you first met him, teasing him playfully as you tricked the young god.

A dragon born of rock and a fox descending from the goddess who presides over life and death - an unlikely pair to say the least. You had laughed and teased the young Morax, whose anger created rifts in the newborn and smooth-faced earth as he chased your flickering form, morphing from shape to shape to confuse him further.

"Quit pestering me!" he'd snapped, his sharp talons digging into the ground as he glowered up at your form - stretched out on the branches above the tree he'd been resting under. You simply laughed - an enchanting sound magical enough to put anyone under its spell, you'd been told, and allowed your tail to flick his nose, a fond smirk upon your features.

"I'll stop once you prove you're no longer a child, Morax. It's simply so much fun to watch your childish tantrums," you teased, quickly moving your tail out of the way as he attempted to slash at it with his clawed hands.

And he did prove it - centuries passed, you teasing, but on many an occasion also aiding him - and he was to become known as the Lord of Geo. Your teasing slowly relented, becoming an occasional friendly jab that he had learned to deflect easily. The day had come, when you bowed to him, acknowledging his growth as a god.

That day, both sat under the forest that had bloomed around the lone tree you oh so long ago played under, he had asked you to become his right hand.

You stretched in the sun, your tails spread around you as you soaked in the warmth. With a teasing flick of a tail, you smirked. "I've always been that, Morax."

Battles were fought, lands created - all with you by his side. Serving as the brains to his brawn for the longest time. While his powers could shatter boulders and bones, yours could wreck minds and hearts - it was a successful conjoined effort of two spirits in separate forms that intertwined.

You had met Guizhong with Morax - the two of you wandering the fields when you came across the beautiful goddess. She introduced herself as Guizhong, the Ruler of Clouds, the Lord of Dust - and on the spot - amidst the beautiful wild glaze lilies, she gifted Morax a stone dumbbell she called Memory of Dust.

"I propose we form an allience, Morax, Lord of Geo," she spoke delicately, a smile upon her gentle features. "You are strong and powerful - and I am neither of those, but what I do excel in, is strategy." "You have a deal, Guizhong, Ruler of Clouds," Morax spoke with a smile of his own and you watched from the sidelines, eager and hopeful for a prosperous future for all three of you.

Later, that night, twirling a glaze lily in his hands - hands that destroyed so easily - he turned to you. "You approve of joining forces with Guizhong, don't you?"

You laughed, ruffling his hair with a clawed hand.

"You could use some brains to back up that empty head of yours - of course I approve!" You teased him playfully, and the gentle smile he sent your way warmed your old heart.

Soon enough, Morax and Guizhong enlisted the help of Marchosius, Patron God of the Soil and Stove - and Guili Assembly was forged from empty fields over the course of centuries, a flourishing nation in pursuit of knowledge. The four of you grew close - your love for the kind and gentle Guizhong becoming that of a sibling - she was the wise and balanced member of your group, always managing to bring about a calmness when turmoil threatened to arrive.

You watched happily, as Morax, a childish firecracker of a dragon once, matured more as a ruler - co-operating beside Guizhong in perfect harmony. The adepti that Morax had taken rule over answered to her every beck and call, and soon, your close friends became closer still without your presence.

It was bittersweet, watching Cloud Retainer, another old friend of yours, set up dinners for Guizhong, herself and Morax - it started off as a simple gesture of goodwill, but became a longstanding tradition you wished not to impede on. You were happy, of course, that the ones closest to you could find joy in each other's company - but still, a heart's a heavy burden that only grows heavier over time.

You laid upon a large bolder, your many tails keeping your figure warm in the cool night as you watched the skies above with Moon Carver for company. He was a gentle, nurturing presence on nights you felt most alone. Strumming your sharpened nails upon the bolder, your gaze slipped to the peaks of Mt. Aocang, upon which you could see the faintest glow of light. You sighed.

"You are unusually quiet upon this dark night. One is concerned over your wellbeing," he spoke, his bellowing voice steering your longing gaze from the peaks of the mountain. You smiled bitterly.

"I'm perfectly alright, Moon Carver, but I do appreciate the concern," you replied distantly, your thoughts drifting away with the gentle wind once more. With the softest of thuds and grace gifted to nimble foxes, you hopped off the boulder and stretched.

"I'm going to go get some rest, good night, old friend," you bid the adeptus farewell and he bowed his head in response, a knowing glint in his wise eyes.

Your wandering feet led you amidst the lands of Guili plains, taking in the sights before you shrouded in a veil of darkness. You sighed quietly as you took note of the large Ballista perched atop Mt. Tianheng. The most marvelous creation of your close companions Cloud Retainer and Guizhong. You climbed closer to it in silence and slid your fingers gently across the smooth wood it was constructed of.

You were happy to have such clever friends - truly. Friends whose wisdom did not rely upon trickery and metamorphosis as your did - friends who were of much use when it came to more strategic matters of battle. You placed your forehead against the wooden weaponry, having no fear it would attack you - it was constructed to protect the people, gods and adepti of the Guili Assembly after all. The cool wooden surface soothed a lingering ache within you.

Morax deserved companions such as the two masterminds behind the invention. He had grown much as a god, and you were certain, that with the help of Guizhong, he could grow more still.

The archon war was a cruel and unjust massacre - leaving gods of all status to fight tooth and nail for the seven seats reserved for those that Celestia deemed worthy. The soil of Teyvat was watered with blood of divine and mortal origin alike and no one was safe from the battlefields of the hunger for power.

Of course, you and the adepti, the Lord of Dust and God of Stove backed Morax in his conquest to secure one of those seats. Morax was an ancient being already compared to many of the gods that fought. Guizhong provided your troops with valuable strategies and you were quick to clutch the hilt of your blade in your clawed hands, baring your sharp teeth at your enemies as you charged into battle alongside your oldest living companion - Morax.

Yes. Blood flowed in rivers and no one could be safe from the paralyzing pain of loss, when it came to the gruesome battles you fought it, desperate to live - desperate to win.

"When I secure a seat amongst the seven - our people will thrive," Morax said with a stern expression set upon his stony face, facing you and Guizhong as he gripped his Vortex Vanquisher tightly, his tail moving swiftly from side to side.

Quizhong nodded slowly.

"We have no choice but to fight anyway - every being of higher status is out for blood," she agreed. You could not help but agree, despite knowing the needless blood that must be shed in your future endeavors.

Oh how you wished this cursed war had not taken place at all.

That you and your companions could have been spared of the pains of it.

"(Name), watch out!" you heard Morax' voice call out for you as you removed your blade from the slain body of a fellow god. You turned towards him swiftly, your ears pinned to your head. It all happened in a blur - a heavy claymore swung at you in the blink of an eye - ready to slash you open and drain you of life.

In that frightening moment, time itself seemed to slow down as your eyes locked onto the amber hue glowing in Morax's gaze, his face twisted in a desperate scream.

And then, you hit the ground.

But no pain penetrated your body other than the slight sting of your side making contact with the ground.

When your eyes darted to your right - that was when the pain arrived.

Excruciating, deep and unbearable pain, as you saw Guizhong bleeding out on the ground beside you, having taken the hit for you.

You could only watch in paralyzed sorrow as the enemy raised his weapon once more to descend it upon your fragile state - only to crumble to the ground as a spear shot through his heart with angry precision, dimming the life from his war-hungry gaze in a single moment.

You watched Morax's polearm clatter onto the earth, stained with blood as he surged forward, falling to his knees beside a bleeding Guizhong and swooping her weak, limp figure into his arms.

You felt wetness upon your cheeks, soon followed by your vision blurring as tears freely flowed from your eyes, crumbling any semblance of the façade of a strong warrior you had donned.

"Guizhong?" you heard Morax mutter in desperation as his attempted to stop the blood from oozing out of the wound in her torso, his hands glistening with a mix of hers and the enemy's blood. Weakly, you crawled towards them, your body shaking as you watched the two - grief wrapping you within its clutches as you saw Guizhong send Morax a weakened smile, her eyes slowly glazing over.

The skies wept in darkness along with you, glaze lilies stained in blood surrounding the three of you as a gentle breeze danced amongst them.

"It seems our journey together has come to an end, my friend," Guizhong whispered to Morax, her breathing getting slower as she gently patted his hand, the hand pressing down on her wound in an attempt to stop the flow of life oozing out of her.

She glanced at you with a sad smile - a smile of a loving friend, something so gentle and sweet.

"Morax," she turned to him again, and with trembling lips and shaking hands, his eyes met hers.

"Forget about the dumbbell," she told him. "No contract needs to mark our friendship," were her final words as her soul was swept away by the gentle breeze, carrying it to distant, hopefully kinder lands.

You could never forget the look upon Morax's face as his hand clutched the limp, gentle hand of Guizhong's body, a single tear rolling down his face as he shook with grief - a look of utter anguish and suffering that you had never seen him wear - not once in the long years you had known him for. A look of a grieving lover - pain of a love lost.

In anger, fuelled by grief, the war kept on - Morax mercilessly vanquished his enemies with a fury behind his actions - his pillars crushing and piercing all those that stood in his way. You fought by his side, quietly grieving alongside him - your only comfort being each other after battles were won and night had fallen.

"(Name)?" he approached your room in your temporary abode quietly, his expression exhausted and crestfallen as he stood in your doorway, all the anger from the battle fought gone, leaving behind only a desperate, grieving husk threatening to crumble before you like a pile of rocks. You surged forward, extending your hand to him quickly, your eyes wide. You'd never seen him like this before the death of your beloved friend, never seen him so out of it as he slowly took steps towards you and pulled you close, wrapping his strong arms, arms that had shed so much blood, around your figure, resting his face in the crook of your neck.

You shook as you returned the embrace, holding him tight in painful silence as the two of you mourned, the air heavy with an itching pain that refused to fade.

That had been the first time of many that Morax came to you in such a state, seeking out your comfort and allowing you to see him in such a vulnerable and broken state. You took him in each time, running your hands through his hair and gently stroking his horns as tears flowed down your face, shedding enough of them for the both of you.

You wept each night as you watched the wilting glaze lilies in your vase, recalling the tender gaze the two had been locked in before Guizhong's life drained away.

You wished it had been you, who had died. You - who the blow had been intended for, who had died.

The Guili Assembly crumbled - all the hard work you had strained to achieve - gone in the throes of cruel war. You watched Morax, his face set in a heavy expression, as he gathered up all that was left of the people of Guili, and began to guide them towards new land - new lands where they could prosper. You followed him, doing all you could to aid him.

The forest that once bloomed, the tree you had made your first pact under - it was all left in ashes and still-glowing embers of fire. Destroyed like all else the two of you had loved.

It had been many years since the death of Guizhong, and the war was nearing its bitter end. Morax claimed his throne as the Archon of Geo, rightfully so - but the pain never eased through all of it.

"(Name)," he whispered, his smouldering eyes staring into yours as you stood within the ashes of where he once asked you to become his right hand.

"(Name)...I must admit, my feelings for you go beyond friendship," he told you calmly, a tired look upon his beautiful face.

"We are entering a new era - an era of Archons, and I would be honored, if you'd grace me with the opportunity to enter it with you by my side. By my side as my companion, my right hand, my lover."

Tears threatened to spill from your eyes as you ran into his arms, burying your face in his neck as you nodded, unable to speak in the moment. You should have felt happy - overjoyed, even, that the millennia of pining was not unrequited, yet you could not help but feel like a traitor.

You felt it was Guizhong, who deserved to hold Morax in her loving embrace, whose lips sealed the contract of her love to the Archon - who stood beside him as his lover and advisor as he built up the nation of Liyue with calloused, tired hands. Hands so tired of the blood they had shed - eyes filled with grief and regret as he built upon the ruins of the war, watching people prosper and forget the suffering he had endured for them.

And yet - you loved him. Perhaps you were selfish, but you accepted his declaration of love for you and bound yourself to him even stronger than before, willing to be the pillar of support he needed when grief threatened to tear him down. Willing to replace Guizhong, to be what she had been destined for - your only hope being that you did not let Morax down.

Centuries and millennia passed, the war long ended and the seven seats claimed by the strongest survivors of its cruelty. Liyue - the nation Morax raised lovingly from the bloodied soils beneath it, had become the capital of trade and contracts.

Morax had become Rex Lapis. The God of War had grown to become that of contracts, and the world had healed itself, its wounds were still there, but scarred over - pain subduing over time.

"Look at you now," you let out a bittersweet laugh as you watched Morax sat at his desk, delved deep into his analysis of the commerce system, already preparing for the next year's Rite of Descension as the people of Liyue had come to call it. His yearly gift of knowledge for aiding them in conquering the world with the iron fist of trade.

He peeked up at you through his dark lashes, a tender warmth to his ochre-colored eyes.

"What do you mean?" he asked, a soft smile resting upon his lips as he stood from his seat.

"All sophisticated and wise now - I bet no one would believe me if I told them what a petulant child you once were," you teased, reaching out your hand gently, using your long nails to tuck a strand of hair behind his ear.

"Mm.." he grumbled, placing a gentle hand upon your waist and drawing you closer gently.

"And I bet no one would believe me either, were I to announce that the Qíngrén Rex Lapis holds so dear was an unrelenting bully in their youth," he replied, brushing his nose against yours in a gentle display of affection.

"I wouldn't be so sure," with a smirk, you tugged at his tie gently, loosening it from round his neck and snatching it away. You quickly twirled out of his grasp, holding the silky item up proudly.

"I'd say I'm still quite the unrelenting bully, my dear Morax."

He allowed a rare laugh to emerge from his chest, rumbling warmly as he watched you fondly, crossing his arms.

"Perhaps you're right, (Name)."

Sometimes, late into the night, you wandered the halls of your luxurious shared abode, recalling the events of times long gone. Your walls were decorated with many luxuries - far too many of them trophies of a war bathed in blood and grief. Still, there was always one item you would stand before in silent grief - tears long shed, but the pain still as piercing as the sharp edge of the Jade weapon.

You remembered when Morax sat up late into the night, carving away at it with a rare serene expression, shreds of jade coating his lap and the ground around him as he worked relentlessly on the creation.

"What are you working on?" you asked one such night, taking a seat beside him as you watched him with glowing eyes, watched the blade he was carving away at carefully and tenderly.

"A gift."

You raised your brows, a smirk upon your lips.

"Oh?"

"For Quizhong. The Primordial Jade Cutter - is what I'll name it."

You could not help but feel your ears droop at his words.

"I'm sure she'll love it once she receives it," you said with a longing smile, sliding your fingers against it's blade gently before rising to your feet and sauntering away, your tails flickering behind you in a forced display of pleased satisfaction.

You watched the gift left ungiven, encased in glass on display. You recalled when Morax, dripping with the anger of grief, picked up the newly finished sword and rushed into battle clutching it - cutting down countless enemies.

Despite that, the green glow it emitted was still that of a brand-new blade - truly a pure and beautiful blade carved with the utmost care and affection.

Some nights you were a bit more bitter over it - not once in the centuries you'd known Morax, not even the ones where you shared tender kisses and embraces, had he gifted anything like that to you - nothing carved with his own hands - once wrathful and brutal, forced to be gentle as they poured over a gift from the heart.

On those nights, you would slip out of your abode and wander the streets of Liyue, feeling weighed down with guilt for your selfish feelings. Every time, you managed to end up on Yuijing terrace, watching the glaze lilies growing within the carefully planned flowerbeds. They were no longer the wild lilies of Guizhong - the last of those had withered away long ago - but they were the closest to it. On those nights, you'd caress the petals with a somber expression, letting unvoiced apologies linger in your mind before returning back home, Morax seemingly none the wiser to your comings and goings, immersed in his work.

"Are you sure about this?" you asked somberly as you finished listening to Morax's plan of stepping down as an Archon. Giving up the seat that you had shed so much blood to attain. The seat that signified loss of a life too precious and gentle - whisked away by the wind in the form of the dust she presided over.

Morax nodded, squeezing your hands gently in his. His horns and tail long hidden as he assumed a more human form. Something you had followed him in doing, faithful to follow him wherever he led you.

"Then I will do my best to aid you, my dear."

And so you did. Your powers were those of shapeshifting, of morphing items into something anew and tricking others with the ease and grace of a leaping feline.

The Exuvia was more than convincing enough for the crowds below, and even you, despite being the one to conjure it up, could not help the tinge of fear within you as you watched this copy of your beloved plummet into the ground with an ungraceful thud. You hoped sincerely you would never have to see such a vision come to life in reality - you had long since set aside your weapons, but you would not hesitate to grab them again to protect the few loved ones you still had left.

Zhongli was now the name Morax donned - assuming the position of a consultant in the Wangsheng Funeral Parlor, providing graceful and wise advice to all that required it. It was a fitting position, you bemused - a work surrounded by grief that the both of you still wore heavily upon your hearts.

Sometimes, you visited him to bring him lunch or anything else you thought he might require - like the dutiful spouse everyone assumed you to be. You supposed the word was not quite far from the truth, but your union was far more than that. Still, mortals could not comprehend the strength of such bonds, so you settled for a smile and a nod when asked if you were there to visit your husband.

On occasion, you could hear him tell customers the tales of the war, an expert storyteller as he was. Not once did he fail to mention the gentle and kind Guizhong, a far-off look in his eyes as he recalled her memory fondly.

It was moments like those that you felt the pain hit deepest. Moments when you wished that it had been you who had been struck down as fate had intended it to. Guizhong had meddled with fate, had brought eons of unhappiness and sorrow upon you and Zhongli.

You wondered, sometimes, when Zhongli brushed his lips against yours tenderly, his eyes closed and his hands gently cupping your face, if he thought so too. If he wished, on nights alone as he allowed the bitter memories to wash over him, that your lifeline had been severed that fateful day.

Of course, you knew he would never admit to such thoughts, he wouldn't even admit them to himself, you were sure - but a mind could still wonder. Especially when he stood before the Jade blade encased in glass, a distant look upon his features.

It hurt.

And you felt selfish for hurting, when it had been your own carelessness that had brought this pain upon you and Zhongli both.

You could no longer stand it. No longer stand the wistful gaze in Zhongli's eyes as he spoke of Guizhong to the Traveler, as he recalled the times he dined with her and Cloud Retainer and as he praised the memory of her wits and the gentleness of her pure soul.

You decided you would do anything to right the wrong you had been living within for far too long.

You turned to research, to prayers dedicated to Celestia - to anything that might help you achieve your goal of bringing back the dear friend you had allowed to wither away and flow away as nothing more than particles of dust.

Countless days, weeks, months passed - and if Zhongli noticed the distance you put between the two of you, he failed to mention it. Perhaps he even enjoyed the space you finally gave him. After all, it had been you who had refused to leave him be since the beginning of time.

Perhaps if you had not stuck to his side like an incessant thorn, Guizhong would be by his side, holding his hand and bathing in his kisses.

Your efforts did not go to waste. You stood upon the empty Guili plains, the moon above lighting the ruins of what once was a great civilization. Your hands were clasped together in prayer as you sank to your knees, allowing the coolness of the ground to seep into your bones as you pleaded quietly for reprieve.

Celestia finally answered your call, sending down an envoy cloaked in shimmering stardust - radiating with energy far more divine than that of your own.

"Little fox," the envoy spoke, their voice light but holding the weight of knowledge and power within it.

"Your pleas have not gone unheard and what you ask is not impossible to achieve," they spoke and you stared up at them in awe, feeling a flicker of hope within your chest.

"Quizhong has rested long enough in the embrace of Celestia - and we are sure she would not mind returning home."

You felt as though you could float, a happiness coated in pain washing over you.

"But tell me, little fox - do you believe truly that you are undeserving of your lot in life?"

You blinked away tears and nodded.

"You are foolish, little fox - but your wish will be granted. Celestia simply hopes you will overcome your blindness and learn to see the truth of your worth."

You cared not for the meaning behind those words - all that mattered was that Guizhong would make her return. You swallowed bitter, selfish tears as you already pictured your beloved in the arms of another - the one he deserved to have. The one you had forced him to say goodbye to.

The sun beamed down upon the harbor with a happiness and warmth that you had not felt in far too long. You browsed the marketplace in silence, maneuvering the crowds as you gathered ingredients for the dinner you had planned that very evening. It had been a while since your talk with the envoy of Celestia - but you knew better than to doubt the promises of those above you, so you were patiently biding your time until the return of your beloved friend.

You hummed a gentle tune to yourself, idly wondering what Zhongli was doing - was he still busy with work, or was he ready to take a lunch break? You thought it best to buy him a little meal and began to wade through the busy streets to approach the funeral parlor, only to be stopped in your tracks as you saw a familiar face within the sea of people.

A beautiful face, with eyes wise beyond the years of its apparent youth, flowing long hair set into a beautifully simple updo and an an air of elegance that could only belong to one. You stared in awe at her beauty - the glaze lilies set into her hair and crowning her in angelic glory as she almost seemed to float through the crowds - they're all but the clouds she ruled over wisely as she studied her surroundings with a curious joy.

You felt tears of joy well up in your eyes as you saw her.

Celestia had granted your wish.

You wished to dash through the crowds, to run into her arms and shower her in endless apologies and affection - but when you searched the ever flowing sea of people, your eyes froze on another familiar figure.

Dark hair set in a low ponytail - perfectly ironed coat and an air of impeccable neatness and perfection coating him. You saw him - saw as his eyes locked with those of the beautiful goddess. You saw the way a warm recognition washed over his stony face - his lips forming a wide smile upon his face as he surged forward.

You tried to suppress the selfish sadness brimming in your heart and eyes, the tears gently rolling down your cheeks as you saw two friends united at last - arms wrapping around each other in a tender embrace.

You knew very well when you were not needed - so you turned quietly and headed back towards your abode, a firm yet difficult decision made in your mind.

You had pretended to be someone you were not for far too long - it was time you made yourself scarce. You ignored the concerned glances of the citizens you passed as you walked - more like staggered - towards the place you had called home for a long time. Of course people would talk, would gossip about the spouse of the beloved Zhongli's spouse walking home in tears before shortly disappearing from Liyue, leaving behind a smitten consultant and a new companion of his.

You simply hoped they'd be kind to Guizhong. Humans were far too simple at times.

Zhongli rushed towards the abode he shared with his beloved carelessly, an uncharacteristic joy to his movements as he waded through people, eager to share the wonderful news with them.

He had ran into Guizhong's arms, her soothing aura washing over him as he simply asked her how. She had known no more than him - only that Celestia had deemed her worthy of returning to the lands of the living.

He cared not for the specifics - one of the closest friends he had had was back - and he could not wait to share the news. He had made her wait for him - him and (Name) at Third-Round Knockout, promising her that they could all once again share a meal together as friends and companions.

"Have you finally made your move, Morax?" Guizhong asked, a sly smile upon her innocent features.

He chuckled.

"I suppose I have."

"Good. I feared you'd be too much of a coward too, Lord of Geo."

When he arrived to his abode it was quiet - eerily so. No aroma of simmering food lingered in the air, and there was a strange emptiness in the rooms as he wandered in, a few objects missing here and there.

A quiet dread arose in his chest.

"(Name)?" he called out, his brows furrowed as he felt a surge of panic within him - a panic he had only felt once before, when his beloved was to be slashed by a long gone god aiming to end their life.

There was no answer.

He rushed through the rooms of his luxurious abode, cold sweat forming upon his body as he reached their shared bedroom. The door was slightly ajar, and he could hear a faint muffled sniffle coming from within.

Slowly, he pushed the door open, stepping into the room.

You had taken on your animal form, tails curled around yourself protectively and your ears pinned back in a display of sadness - the air heavy with emotions he had not seen or felt you experience in eons - your home usually filled with gentle harmony.

He swallowed heavily as he saw the bag before you, filled with the few items you cared for - to take with you as a shard of memories to remind you of the years you had spent with Zhongli - with Morax. A last act of selfishness you allowed yourself.

"(Name)?" he quietly addressed you, his voice strained as he watched what was you undoubtedly preparing to leave - without a word to him, no less.

You whipped around, your eyes wide as you met his.

"Zhongli," you whispered shakily, ashamed to be caught in the act.

"Where are you going..?" he questioned, his eyes glued to your belongings and eyes filled with an unfamiliar desperation.

"I don't know, yet," you answered, lowering your gaze to the wooden floor below your paws.

He approached gently, crouching before you as he reached out his hand to stroke your face.

"Why?" his voice was small, desparate.

He had only just regained a companion - only to lose his lover the very next moment? Was the world truly that unjust?

"I didn't want to be in the way of you and Guizhong," you replied, looking away with a bitter tinge of sadness to your voice.

"You know she's back?"

"I was the one who demanded Celestia return her to you."

He stared at you in both shock and awe.

"What do you mean you didn't want to be in the way?" he asked slowly, feeling dread rise within his chest once more as his voice cracked.

Without fanfare, you assumed your more human form once more, your eyes watering and clumping together your wet lashes, blurring your vision as you tried to find the words to explain your feelings - feelings buried under centuries, wars and carefully constructed facades - all crumbling before the man you had always loved.

"I...saw how you looked at her - back then I mean." More tears rolled across your face as the dam finally broke.

Stupid, treacherous, selfish tears.

He was eerily quiet as he watched you crumble before him, you who had always kept his spirits high when he was in pain, always knew what to say or do to soothe him. However, he realized in a horrifying moment - he had no idea what to say to you.

"You loved her. And it was my fault she died," you hiccupped, letting go of any pride you may have held.

Your teary eyes met his - scared and filled with emotion you could not quite decipher.

"(Name)-"

You shook your head, forcing yourself to smile bitterly - it was a pathetic sight and you were well aware of it, but you could do little else to reign in the pain.

"I was supposed to die that day - and I would have gladly done so. I always wished I did - and I know you would never admit it, but you did too."

His hands clutched your shoulders suddenly, shaking as he gripped them tight.

"(Name) - that's not true," he spoke sternly, choosing to ignore the way his own voice wavered.

You let out a sound - a mix between a sob and a laugh as you stared into his eyes.

"Don't lie to me, Morax. I've known you longer than anyone - you should not attempt to deceive the god of trickery." You inhaled and exhaled shakily.

"I never deserved your affection - I was selfish in accepting it. I knew you wanted me to be her - you've never looked at anyone else like you looked at her. But I was selfish, and I was hurting too. I'm sorry for using you like that."

His brows furrowed as the weight of your words hit him - crashing into him like the boulders he had used to destroy his enemies with a fierce anger.

"It's you who has tricked yourself, (Name)." His gloved hand stroked your face gently, wiping at the streams of tears flowing across it aimlessly as he stared into your eyes.

"I've never loved Guizhong," he muttered, placing his forehead against yours as his mind frantically searched for the right words to say - the words that could soothe the pain of the burden you had been carrying in your heart for far too long.

"Not more than a close friend."

You stared into his eyes, sniffling.

"But..."

"Have you really been blind to the way my heart beats only for you - after the thousands of years we have known you?" He pulled you close, burying your face in his clothed chest, ignoring the way your tears soaked through the pristine cloth of his suit and shirt.

"I..."

"Guizhong was the one who had to listen to my incessant ramblings about how beautiful and wonderful you were, the one who kept trying to make me tell you. But I was foolish and stubborn. It took her death to make me realize that within a bling of an eye - I could lose you too. I almost did - that day," his words conveyed more emotion than you had heard him do in all the time you had known him. He had buried it deep down, hoping he could show them, instead - but he had failed in that, as well.

He buried his face in your hair, taking in a shaky breath and inhaling your scent - you, who smelled like home. Like comfort, like love.

You were in stunned silence.

Had you really been blind to the truth all this time? You who had prided yourself in seeing past facades and being able to deceive anyone at will. Had you willingly deceived yourself, hiding the truth?

"But she's a far better match for you than I could ever hope to be," you whispered, your voice muffled by his chest. You felt him tense.

He pulled away, cupping your face with a desperation you had only seen once before.

"You are a fool, (Name), if you think anyone would be a better match for me than you," he sighed, wishing he could simply bare his heart and show you all that he felt in his old, guarded heart.

"I strived to become stronger for you. I learned to reign in my temper, for you. Everything I did - I hoped it would impress you - from the very moment we met."

In that moment, with those words pouring from his lips, he was a young adeptus once more, chasing the fleeting and teasing attention of a fox god who called him immature.

You stretched out your hand towards his face hesitantly, resting your warm palm upon his cheek. He pressed it against your hand, an earnest youthful glow in his old, wise eyes.

"I love you, and only you, (Name). And I always have, you silly fox."

You released another choked laugh infused with a whimper, sniffling as you attempted to control the stupid tears flowing from your eyes.

"Morax... I feel so foolish, now," you whispered, a sniffle caught in your throat as you lowered your head, hand slipping from his face into your lap.

"I'm the fool for not realizing how you felt sooner. All this time, you'd been thinking lowly of yourself - and I never even took note." He sighed and pressed your figure closer to himself.

"I suppose we're both a couple of old, bitter fools, then."

He huffed in amusement, tickling the strands of your hair in doing so.

"I suppose we are," he sighed, pressing a gentle kiss upon your forehead when your face emerged from his face to look up at him, eyes still red and puffy.

You closed your eyes, allowing them reprieve from the crying. You felt a wave of exhaustion wash over you as Zhongli leaned down to capture your lips with his own, his touch ever so gentle as he stroked your face, wiping away the last remains of tears still lingering upon your face.

"I love you," you whispered as you opened your eyes.

He smiled at you - a smile he had never before allowed another but you to witness - sweet, vulnerable and full of thousands of years of adoration.

"I love you too, my dear."

This one was really fun to write! I read SO much genshin lore for this and I feel like I def missed some things, but I tried my best. Relationships are complicated, man. And writing this made me Feel Things. I hope you guys enjoy this one, though!!

Some colour swatches for the BG3 companions. Feel free to use as for art purposes, no credit necessary of course (though reblogs are appreciated!)

(Hades) Gods x Shade! Reader

No matter how much you try, mortality will always catch up to those who are not of gods. Even the most blinded of them learn this eventually. You take your death with grace, choosing to go and explore this new world as soon as Lord Hades permits you to go, impressed by how little you complain and demand. You are one of the brighter parts of his day (night?).

You drift along, catching certain snippets of other Shade’s conversations as you wander aimlessly. You notice a crack in the wall; deciding to muster up your courage, you slip through it to find yourself in the glowing green torches of Tartarus. With what little you have, you hold it close to your translucent body and push forward.

You’re quick to notice the large glowing ball with an oddly familiar symbol floating in the middle of it. You take your time circling it, feeling compelled to touch it. When you do, a beam of light comes slicing through the dreary air to reveal a mighty god who stares down at you at your shocked form...

Zues

Cause of Death: Lightning Strike

Zues is confused when he sees you. He’s even more confused when you start screaming at him, waving your hands about and threatening to fight him yourself.

“You fucker! You killed me!”

He raises a brow. “I think I’d remember if I killed you.” You flipped up your middle finger at him and his eyebrows drew into an angry v. “How rude! I am the God of Gods-”

“I don’t care!”

Zagreus had to high tail it to you before Zues tried to smite you (possibly a second time).

Suffice to say you hoped you’d never bump into that boon again. And you didn’t. No, the God of Gods and Lightning himself decided that he’d have to make a house call himself (Hades was not pleased when a bolt of lightning came crashing down and left a scorched black ring in the carpet).

He picks you out quickly and you try to zoom out of the lobby until he catches you by the back of your robe and then you’re swinging and yelling profanities at him. He’s kinda amused now instead of angry- you’re just so weak and tiny compared to him. It’s hysterical- ow! Did you just bite him?

After you and Zues finish your little “spitting match”- Hades kicks Zeus out and you're forced to hang out in Tartarus for a bit (“but I’m just a simple fisherfolk! I can’t fight anything!” You cry, Hades does not spare you a look as you're dragged out by Meg).

You think maybe that’s the end until you’re approached by a… a squirrel? You almost punt it when his voice spills out as he shoots into a long prattle about how much of a jerk Hades was and how he couldn’t handle someone as grandiose as him appearing before him. Threatened him as a god or something- you were busy trying to figure out how you were going to kill this guy and make sure he stayed dead.

Turns out, after the two of you chattered (argued) a bit about whether or not he actually killed you, Zeus had some neat stories about the gods.

While you were interested in his children’s and brothers’ and sisters’ stories, he was interested in your stories of the mundane. A simple fisherfolk? That was a word? You just fished and traded? Amazing! Tell him more!

After this particular interaction between the two of you, Zeus really ended liking you. Maybe a little too much, but, aw well, it wasn’t everyday a mortal soul had the balls to argue with him for something he doesn’t remember doing (he probably did. Probably. Most likely). He swore that he’d come and see you everyday as he sat on your shoulder as a squirrel, going on and on about how you should feel blessed to be praised by one such as he. You were about to throw him until a giant hand came out and grabbed him (seemed you drifted too close to Lord Hades’ desk), the hulking god flinging him out of a portal.

He continues to pop up and bother you and, to be honest, he’s kinda growing on you. Also, I’m gonna be frank and lay it out that, if he likes you enough, he’s probs gonna want to smash, especially if you lean more towards the feminine side (he’s fucking AWFUL). It’s up to you if you wanna indulge that or not, I don’t recommend it, but you can if you really want to.

We’re going with the option you don’t smash- he’ll be salty at you for a whole ass day before he comes back the one after that as a rat (Hades kept finding out his forms that he used to sneak in so it was an ever constant menagerie of appearances to keep up the disguise) and is like: “I thought you would miss me too much so I came back before you could even complain.”

Zag likes to watch the two of you interact because he finds it absolutely fascinating. It’s like watching… He doesn’t know what it’s like but he’s having a blast as you roast his uncle to bits. It really helps him out when he’s feeling a bit down after failing getting out one too many times.

When you first get Zeus an Ambrosia, he thinks it’s poison and then he gets all prideful because of course you would give him an offering, he was the strongest of all the gods! Him and him alone!

“Silly, mortal, you cannot poison me! I am a god.”

You squint your eyes at him before you huff and pull the bottle closer to you. “Fine, whatever, I’ll just give it to Zagreus- or better yet, Hades if you don’t want it.”

“No! No! I want it! Give it to me! It’s mine!”

During this time, he’s actually experiencing some purer emotions in life- he’s genuinely giddy that you got him the Ambrosia and asks how you got it. You hold up a makeshift fishing rod and grin at him, telling him you snatched it from some nasty shades before you wandered back down to Tartarus.

His gift to you is a little lightning pin that, when you're in danger, will send a nasty bolt of lightning down on your enemies. You wonder what good it’ll do since you’re dead already, but shrug and accept it, thinking that he looks years younger and friendler when his smile isn’t packed full of ego and pride.

Poseidon

Cause of Death: Drowning

Poseidon, Lord of the Oceans, Earthquakes, and many other things, is simply- how do you say? Amused? It’s the best way to describe it at least. Of course he was mostly surprised when he appeared expecting the Little Hades to be waiting for him just to meet a Little Shade in his place.

“Why, hello there, Little Shade! You wouldn’t happen to know where the Little Hades is, would you?”

You shake your head, he doesn’t miss the way you nervously play with your hands, drifting back as some of his droplets float close to you.

He laughs at your simple reply. “Shy one aren’t you?” He leans closer to you, squinting and running a hand through his beard while he hummed.

You fight the urge to take a step back, the smell of salt water making your stomach churn.

His eyes flutter shut as he takes a deep breath. He takes a moment before he opens his eyes again and a look of understanding flashes across his eyes. “You drowned. Didn’t you?”

You stare up at him, eyes round and glassy. You nod.

Before your conversation can go any further, Zagreus comes running through the window, surprised to see his Uncle talking to a Shade (you look so scared- he hopes that you aren’t being bullied). You’re quick to take your leave bowing to both and passing the boon to the Prince before you scurry away into the cover of the other Shades.

He hums to himself, a cryptid smile on his face as his eyes follow after you. Such a strange little thing you were- he wouldn’t mind seeing you again.

It takes a bit, but he does happen to see you again, by peaking through a fountain in a fountain room in the Underworld. He spies you trying to poke at the water that he happened to choose, but jumping back each time. You face scrunched up into one of pure frustration. He asks if you’re doing alright there, Little Shade? Causing you to flash out of existence for a moment before settling back down and looking into the pool with wide eyes. Posiedon almost busts a gut with how hard he’s laughing and you huff telling him that it wasn’t funny.

He says otherwise, but asks what you’re doing. When your face bursts into a large blush you mumble something that he doesn’t quite catch and he’s left with more questions than answers as you take the chance to phase out of the chamber when Zag walks in and steals his Uncle’s attention for a split second. He furrows his brow before asking his nephew about you, which Zag, surprisingly, supplies rather quickly, seeing as the two of you talk a lot: apparently you’re deathly afraid of water after you were thrown into the ocean by your supposed best friend. The memories of the waves crushing you deeper and deeper beneath them sticking with you even in death. So, you were trying to curb that phobia. Posiedon nods, letting the words sink in before he offers the Little Hades a thumbs up and says he’ll help with that.

The next time you see the god, he’s eager to call you over and explain that he’s figured out what you were doing last time and offers to let you mess with some of the drops of water that follow him wherever he goes. You stare at them, eyebrows furrowed and looking just as sick as a shade could look. Yet, you still nod your head and hold out a shaky hand. He smiles at you, praising you for your courage and flicks one towards you; it floats gently before it rests serenely on your palm, allowing you to feel the cool sensation of the droplet. You marvel at it, still shaking with an anxiety before you nod. He pulls it away, it shoots back to rest next to his head and you thank him for going out of his way to help you and ease your fears.

He remarks that you should fear the water out of respect: it’s unpredictable, terrifying in it’s own right- vast and, seemingly, never ending, what could possibly be more terrifying than the unknown, hm? He continues to say that you should also hold onto a bit of bravery at the very least, for untold treasures come from there for those who look.

After that conversation, Poseidon makes it a habit of having you hold onto his droplets of water, making them slightly bigger each time for you to get used to them.

By the time you’re able to touch them freely without experiencing crippling fear- the droplets are almost the size of you. Poseidon praises you the more you grow out of your fear.

You do eventually open up to him about how you died and he never tells you that he already knew. Just allows you to talk in a soft voice as you recall it. It’s a nice bonding experience for the both of you and Posideon decides that you’re his favorite Shade and he’ll treasure you for as long as you exist.

The first time you get him a bottle of Ambrosia, you come to him shivering and sopping wet. He’s confused and concerned as he hovers to you.

“What happened to you, Little Shade? Are you alright?”

It takes you a moment to be able to speak. “I- I found a bottle of Ambrosia. I thought-” you take a deep breath, holding out the bottle with both hands- “I thought you’d like it.”

It’s one of his prized possessions now, he takes little sips of it once in a while, but other than that it remains as one of his most precious memories. He’s very attached to you at this point and you’ll forever have his blessing. His gift to you, aside from the undying loyalty, is a shell necklace, if you ever need him- you only need to whisper his name to it and he’ll appear in an instant.

Athena

Cause of Death: Exhaustion

Athena had been prepared to meet with Zagreus- not a curious shade staring back up at her with all the relevance of one of her worshippers.

“What business do you have with me?”

She raises her brow at your gobsmacked expression, watching as you screw your face up before bowing. “Apologies, m’lady, I only happened to bump into your…” you look at where it glows, furrowing your eyebrow, “your orb?”

“Boon.”

You nod your head in understanding before bowing your head again. “Again, my sincerest apologies.”

Luckily, she didn’t smite you, instead asking the question of how you were even talking to her. Getting a shrug from you, you say that maybe it’s because you worshipped her (unofficially, you were never able to make it up to her shrine much to your disappointment) when you were alive- maybe a deeper bond is there compared to someone who had never prayed to her for her protection and guidance.

When she hears this, she’s very interested, pressing you to elaborate further when the Young Prince comes jogging out of the glowing window, waving to you. You slink away, passing the boon to him and bowing to her once again before you disappear into the mass of Shades that choose to wander their new home as well.

After the conversation, you had caught the Goddess’ attention, planting a desire in her to see you again. Even going as far as to write a letter to ask her uncle for a council with you after a week passed of her placing her boon in Tartarus so that maybe you would drift too close to it once again. But each time only the little prince would find them (which she was fine with, but it still left such an unflattering taste of defeat on her tongue each time it wasn’t you). She figured it would be a moot point to send the letter, but it was worth a try.

But she decided to place her boon down once more before she sent it out. Just to try. And this time it worked.

You were the one she saw and she was absolutely delighted- not that she showed it, choosing to keep her stoic and sharp expression. You greet her in a similar way before: awed before bowing your head to her. You continue to go on about how you're happy to see her again and, despite how little you had been buried with, you hoped that she would take this- a broken sword, despite the worn hilt and the deep scars the littered what was left of the flat of the balde; it was still polished (at least what was left of it)- as a proper offering to her for all she had done in your life- even if it truly wasn’t all her doings.

She takes the sword in her hand, holding it high, her eyes shining as she studies it: truly, it was a warrior’s blade. She watches as the history and memories flash in the smooth iron. She remarks that it is a remarkable offering, but she cannot accept it. It feels wrong taking a weapon of a warrior such as yourself.

You smile as her, shaking your head, urging her to take it, for you didn’t need that blade in this afterlife. You had already fought your battles, killing the man who you had been battling with and quelling the rage that had followed you since you were a child for revenge. Eventually, dying from the strain of the fight with a feeling of contentedness.

Athena raises her brow, remarking how that sounded more along the lines of Ares rather than her.

You nod, but say that you couldn’t help but desire her help for she was the goddess attached to your favorite animal. She had to fight the urge to laugh, a shaky smile slipping through as she nods at you. Such a silly thing you are. She decides that she’ll take the sword as a reminder of you, no matter where you should go now. She also decides that you were forming a rather soft cradle in her heart.

After this, she is quick to ask Zagreus about you every chance she gets- not that he minds too much, he tells her about how you’ve been helping him train and you’ve even told him about your life when you were alive (“a general, can you believe that? They’re so young!” Zagreus says as he shows her the new move you taught him). She’s only the slightest bit miffed at hearing that you and Achilles have begun to form a sweet friendship. She’s pleased to hear that his father has been trying to barter with you to get you into Elysium, though she’s a tad confused on the reason you refuse to.

She asks you about it one day and you say that it would take longer to see her and you would prefer to avoid that. It was the only time the goddess has ever had to fight down a blush.

When you get her a bottle of Ambrosia, she’s in pure awe at the huge bottle.

“How did you get one this big?”

You lean against the new sword you managed to get your hands on- something simple and obviously used- you offer her a lopsided grin. “Well, not just any Ambrosia would work, so I decided to try my luck with Lord Theseus and, The Great Bull, Asterius. Took me a couple of tries but I managed to beat them and snag it.”

Athena smiles warmly at it, telling you that she’ll treasure it and think of you every time she takes a drink of it. She realizes in that moment just how important you had become to her, never feeling this… soft for a mortal soul in her life. Her gift to you is a shield and a new sword: the shield bares her symbol of an owl while the sword was ornate with a divine glow. She promises that no matter what they’ll protect you and so will she, you only need to call out her name.

Aphrodite

Cause of Death: A Broken Heart

When the Goddess of Love first sees you- she thinks you’re absolutely gorgeous (of course not as gorgeous as her). The sad look in your eye and the slight frown that rests on your lips makes her almost fall in love right then and there.

“Hello, little one- do you know where the little godling is?”

You shake your head. “I’m sorry, Lady Aphrodite. I know not where he is.”

She raises her brows, a smile on her face. “How did you know I was Aphrodite, my dear?”

You look up at her, a sudden glint in your eyes has her yearning to see it once again. “No one else could be so breathtaking, my Lady.”

Oh. Oh, she likes you.

She chooses to chatter away with you- despite you mostly listening, adding little things here and there, she feels a strange sense of fullness, like she just ate a full and warm meal for the first time in a very long time, by the time Zagreus arrives. You bid your farewell and she can’t help but follow you with her gaze as your transparent form blends in with the other Shades.

Aphrodite is thrilled the next time she runs into you- or rather you run into her boon. She missed the melancholy look in your eyes, she also doesn’t miss the fact that you’ve come bearing gifts this time: an assortment of colorful flowers rests in your arms and you offer it to her. That glint coming and going like a shooting star as she accepts the offering, holding it up to her nose to take in their sweet scent. How sweet were you to hand her something so delicate.

She asks you where you got them and you remark that you made your way up to Elysium. She’s surprised to hear as such- you didn’t seem like the warrior type. You shake your head, your eyes sweeping low. You weren’t a warrior, far from it- a simple florist if anything. You just drifted until you made it up there and plucked some flowers to make bouquets. You mumble that maybe you’ll be more useful in death.

She tilts her head at the comment, beginning to ask until Zagreus is jogging up to the both of you and it was time for you to leave. She’s a tad annoyed, but reminds herself that the little godling didn’t know- simply trying to break out of this dreary place he calls home and see Olympus in all its glory. She’ll just ask next time.

You gave her another bouquet, this one more beautiful than the last, when she gets the chance to ask you her question. Your eyes pool with a mournful look as you gaze up at her, your hand resting over the place where your heart used to beat as you look to the ground. You explain that you were young when you were wed- just as you were young when you died. You were married off to someone you did not love- someone awful, vile, who beat you down daily just to build you back up so they could laugh when they toppled you over once again. You remark about how you could feel yourself dying little by little, your delicate heart bleeding as your want for life began to dwindle away. You grew sick and you would sit by the window day in and day out, staring out and wondering what your life could have been if you were married to someone you loved. A ghost of a smile blooms on your lips as you look up at her, that glint she oh-so loved twinkling in your eye as you say that you did not die in as much loneliness and pain as you could have; having been making a bouquet dedicated just to her love and sweetness: your Lady Aphrodite who you love, ever so much.

She’s shocked when she realizes the tears that drip down her cheeks, her hand coming to caress your cheek (really your head, she was hulking compared to your small form) with her fingertips. She comments that she would accept every bouquet you made and treasure each flower like it was the one you made for her with your last breaths in the living world.

After that interaction, she comes down a lot more, asking Zagreus if he could bring along her darling florist so that she could talk to you. He always obliges, loving to see the two of you chatter about (well, her chatter about, you usually just listened with a smile on your face as you used the flowers you had plucked into flower crowns for him and Lady Aphrodite). You two become a sort of comfort for him when he’s getting frustrated: seeing your usually melancholy demeanor light up as soon as the goddess appears and in turn the goddess becomes something less vain and more gentle as she speaks to you.

At some point, you’ll probably meet Ares himself- the two never that far from each other, also she adores you, so it only makes sense for you to meet him. He’s honestly a tad unimpressed when you first meet, but when he hears about the heart ache you faced he gains a sense of respect for you, remarking that love is a battle in and of itself and you fought valiantly to keep your ability to love freely (Aphrodite might convince you to have a threesome, I’m not gonna lie, she’s attracted to you on a deep level and she has her trysts with Ares- it’s perfect in her eyes. Though she won’t push you if you don’t desire it).

When you first get her Ambrosia, she’s flabbergasted before it turns into worry for how you got it and the potential danger you were in.

She takes the bottle of gold liquid and the flowers that you had so carefully arranged. Her attention, though, is focused on the said bottle of Ambrosia. “My Darling Florist, how did you get this?” Before you can answer she shoots into a flurry of questions. “Are you alright? Did anything catch you? Hurt you? You don’t seem hurt. Oooh-” she puffs her cheeks out, her gaze sharp- “why did you get me this? It’s dangerous!”

You wait for her to calm down. “I apologize for making you worry, but I simply snuck around and grabbed it from some witches- they didn’t even notice me. And I-” you tap your fingers together, a blush blooming across your face as you look away from the goddess and she decides that she craves seeing that expression on you again- “I thought that you deserved it. It’s a much better offering than my silly bouquets.”

Well, aside from the ‘silly bouquets’ comment (which she corrects you on very quickly), she’s absolutely flattered and it might be the final nail in the coffin that has her falling for you, the little shade in front of her. She decides that you hold a piece of her heart in your translucent hands, though she chooses to keep that information to herself.

Her gift to you is a hairpin that matches hers, though if you don’t have enough hair- she says, you can always pin it to your robe. It’s a blatant claim on her part, but it also helps ease the residual heartache that followed you into death. And, hopefully (a personal hope of her), each time you look at it, you’d fall deeper and deeper in love with her as well.

Artemis

Cause of Death: Arrow to the Heart

She’s confused when she sees you, quick to voice her confusion as well. Also depending on if you're more feminine or masculine (and I don’t mean woman or man, I just mean how you present yourself), she will treat you differently depending. So, for now, we’re gonna go with the more “feminine” option:

“Who’re you?”

You bow. “An honor to meet you, Lady Artemis, I seem to have bumped into that orb on accident. Wasn’t sure what it did and the curiosity got the better of me.”

She hums, she perks when she notices your bow. “You’re a hunter?”

You smile, holding it out to her. “Yes, indeed, my Lady- I prayed to you a lot.” You laughed, adding. “Hoped to join your hunters when I was young.”

She’s quite happy to hear that and begins to chatter along with you. For some reason feeling oddly at ease around you. It’s probably because you were a fellow hunter but she simply can’t help the way she grows an odd sort of… adoration? Something like that, she thinks- for you. She almost laments the fact when Zagreus comes to get the boon.

You nod to him, biding your farewell to the Goddess and passing the boon to the Prince. She doesn’t miss how Zagreus’ eyes shine as you walk away. She almost comments on it but bites her tongue, wanting to observe the prince and the dreamy look that drifts over his features, even as you disappear.

The next time the two of you meet, she asks if she can see you in action. You agree and search up ahead to find something to demonstrate your skills on. You’re quick to find a few Numbskulls. She watches as you take a deep breath, your eyes narrowing on your unassuming targets and your footsteps become silent as you skirt closer to them. You nock an arrow, never looking away. Her eyes gleam with thrumming adrenaline at the way the muscles in your arms tense as you draw the string back. The low groan of the wood barely above a whisper as you wait for them to line up. You hold your breath, releasing the arrow- it goes through all three of them, making them break into dust in a consecutive line, a harrowing scream being wretched from them as they fade from existence. You release the breath you were holding and stand, sending a smile to the young goddess whose eyes shine with stars.

She praises you for your amazing skill and sings of your prowess. You shake your head, looking down at the ground as you argued that you were but a simple bow folk in your living life. Nothing more, nothing less.

She begs to differ! That type of skill only belongs to those of her highest ranking huntresses! She continues to gush about you until Zag comes up and, once again, greets the both of you. That dreamy look coming over his face as he looks at you. She watches as you once again disappear into Tartarus, this time though, after you’re gone, she turns to her cousin and shoots into a tangent about why he had never told her about you before and where did you come from? She has to know!

He answers all of her questions to the best of his abilities but there are even some he doesn’t know about, for example: how you died.

Artemis accepts this and decides that she’ll just ask you the next time the two of you meet.

And, true to her word, she does. She asks you point blank and you can’t help but be slightly taken aback. You laugh softly, leaning on your bow as you begin to recount that you were traversing her forest, as you had done many times before, and noticed fresh foot prints of man. You decided that it would be a good idea to look and you found hunters trying to kill her Golden Stag. You had dove in as quickly as you could, shooting one- the arrow sailing in a clean arch through his wrist before he could let loose his arrow. But as you went to nock another arrow- a searing pain in your chest and heart. You looked down to see blood pooling around your robes, dying the olive green of your cloak a wine red. You remember the last thing you saw was the Golden Stag running away. You smiled telling her that you were happy he got away- you don’t know what you’d do if he had been captured despite your effort.

Artemis suddenly remembers that day: her stag rushing to her and urging her to follow him- he bounded through the forest, frantic and panicked. When they got to a clearing, she was quick to notice the blood and the drag marks of a body. Her stag pressed his nose to the ground sniffing at the pool of blood, his eyes watering and bulbous tears slid down his muzzle. It suddenly made sense. You were the one he was mourning for.

She couldn’t help but grab your hands, resting her forehead against the back of them; thanking you for protecting her stag when she couldn’t. You smile at her, bowing your head to her and thanking her for the countless hunts she went on with you. You pull your hands away from her and hold out your bow to her. She asks what you think you're doing in a watery voice and you say it’s an offering. You couldn’t give much when you were alive and you still can’t give much now, but, this bow- it shall treat her right.

She sniffles as she takes it, trying to hold in tears. She vows to treasure it for all of time as she admires the worn wood.

That day, the two of you became closer as comrades, she would actively come down to say hi to you (and encourage Zagreus to take the leap and court you after she learned of his growing affections for you). The two of you would talk about everything you could think of, explaining how your hunting styles differed or how you could set a trap easier. She had realized that she had never felt this carefree with anyone before. She felt like a child. It felt nice.

When you snag her a bottle of Ambrosia- she’s swaddled in a whirlwind of emotions.

“You… You got this for me?” She asks as she takes the bottle of golden liquid.

You nod, that gentle smiling spreading across your face. “Of course. You had helped me so many times- it is only fair, my Lady-”

“Artemis-” she sniffled, rubbing her eyes with her knuckles- “call me Artemis, my friend.”

She finds you to be a perfect friend- a breath of fresh air from home. She may not feel any romantic feelings towards you, but she still holds you in a dear place in her heart. Her gift to you is a new bow and quiver that will never run out of arrows. The bow is enchanted and you’ll never have to fear it breaking for it will protect you for as long as you exist- in this realm or another.

Ares

Cause of Death: Blood Loss

When Ares first sees you, he is… well- he’s impressed that you stumbled upon his boon, but at the same time… He’s a tad miffed? That you found it?

At the very least he’s condescending as all hell about it:

“What is this? A little lamb came to beg me for power? How foolish. No matter how hard you struggle you will never be much more than some little shade.”

“Ah, sorry, my Lord! Didn’t mean to bump into it!” You hold up the basket in your translucent arms, “I wanted to see if I could find some new ingredients to bake with! I do oh-so miss it, sir.”

Well, he wasn’t expecting that.

He ends up allowing you to chatter on with him despite his obvious judgement on your, what he calls, “soft mortal hobby” until Zagreus comes to do his daily try of breaking out from the Underworld.

As he watches you drift away (after passing the boon and giving words of good luck to the Prince, who happily takes it), he kinda hopes to see you again

And see you again he does! He literally sees you the next day- night? Whatever, he’s never sure when he drops a boon in there- it’s damn dark-

He’s presented with a basket of treats and your gleeful greeting as you chatter that you found ingredients to make some Baklava and you thought that, maybe, he’d like to try it?

He smiles- cruel and sharp- and asks if you truly think that this is a fit offering for a god such as himself?

You shrug, saying he doesn’t have to eat it if he doesn’t want to

He laughs and takes it and you two are off chattering again: him regaling you with his war stories and you of the ingredients you had (somehow) found down here until Zag shows up, once again, the boon is passed to him (this time along with a slice of the delicious, warm Baklava. Which, he’s confused on what it is but he finds out very quickly that it’s his favorite treat).

The two of you talk a lot, which Ares is pleasantly surprised about, usually he’s the scorn of everyone- not that he cares, it causes conflict and he likes that. But you’re so calm and sweet that he just can’t get a rise out of you. Which, on one hand, pisses him off to no end, but, on the other, it’s such a nice change of pace for him. He’s used to the bloodshed and animosity of battlefields- the iron tinged air that follows after the warriors that traverse those fields. And yet, here you are: a shade that always has a treat for him when you run into him and the smell of warm sweetness wafting after you.

So when he learned exactly how you died- he was absolutely floored.

“How did you die, little baker?” He asked one day, fiddling with his knife, tilting it discreetly so that your reflection was in it.

“Oh!” You smiled sheepishly, glancing away from him and placing the bag of flour (how did you even get that? He’d have to ask you next) back into your basket. “Well- you see, I bled out.”

He raised his eyebrow, suddenly very interested. “How? You’re so…” he tilted his head and flipped his knife so that the blade pointed at him and the hilt pointed at you, he poked your arm with said hilt. “Soft.”

“Well…”

You explain that you had a little brother who had a nasty habit of getting into trouble- he was a good person, just made foolish choices- and this time, it had cost you your life. He had pissed off the wrong person and, well, when the man had attempted to grab your brother when the two of you were out walking the stalls on your break- you did the only thing you could think of: you fought.

Of course it went horribly, you’ve never been in a fight before then and, despite all the work you did with dough, it didn’t help much when the man pulled out a knife and dug it straight into your gut. But, you don’t mind too much- your brother’s alive and well and, from what you understand from asking Lord Hades, he had started to be more aware of himself and who he angered. Which made you super happy and proud of him!

Ares can’t help but feel some sort of pity for you. So much life to be taken so quickly and placed in- wait. Why weren’t you in Elysium?

You’re incredibly confused when Ares suddenly disappears (Aphrodite appearing in his place in the blink of an eye- she greets you happily and asks if you have any of Baklava to share today. You do not but you do have some Loukoumades if she wanted some. She did). You’re even more confused when the Underworld shakes and angry yelling fills the entirety of it for a solid ten minutes before all goes back to normal.

You tell Ares about it the next day and he simply hums. Keeping it to himself that he made a whole scene about you not being in Elysium by popping up and butting heads with Hades, of course he got kicked out. That still doesn’t stop him from sending angry letters that can span anywhere from one word letters (usually containing a curse word) to a 30 page essay on why you should be in Elysium instead of milling about in such unkempt places.

The first time you go out of your way to get him a bottle of Ambrosia is the day that both scares the shit out of him and makes him hate you for giving him mushy feelings.

You came to him in, almost literal, tatters: your greenish, transparent form ripped in places, the few wisps of you following after your torn form like they were tied to a string. You had held it up to him in a basket, a plate of Baklava sitting next to it, along with some other treats. “Lady Aphrodite mentioned that she wanted to try my Baklava, so I made her some! Though the Ambrosia is just for you, my Lord!”

He blinked at you, taking the basket in a delicate hold. He turned it this way and that, his chest feeling… warm? He wanted to grimace at the soft warmth that thrummed through his veins, yet it was replaced with a smile as he held up the gold liquid. “Thank you, little Baker.”

It was the first time he felt something so unexplainably soft: so gentle and warm as it settled somewhere between the bottom of his ribcage and the top of his stomach. He listened as you told him how you had gotten it: with Zagreus’ help (you even got to meet Lord Hermes! It was so amazing! He had scoffed at that) he led you to a room with Ambrosia as the prize and, despite the young prince’s worry, you managed to beat the monsters and collect it, mostly, by yourself.

Ares was so flattered, but he couldn’t help the way that your tattered form made him feel a sort of worry. He waved his hands through the wisps of your body before he snapped his fingers and a small blade appeared: a beautifully constructed blade that was an exact replica of his (albeit much, much smaller). He handed it to you, telling you that you should have a proper weapon if you’re going to go out of your way to fight in his name.

Dionysus

Cause of Death: Alcohol Poisoning

Dionysus, unlike many, is incredibly excited to see you sitting there. He adores mortal souls and can’t help but look at them each time Zag chooses his boons and he has the chance to glimpse at their souls (despite his tendency to let them go completely after they die- he can’t help but wonder about them once in a while).

“Why, hello there! What’s a little thing like you doing strolling up to my boon, hm?”

He can’t help but notice the way your eyes are a tad dull, but he writes that off as the dark of Tartarus since it’s gone as fast as he noticed it. You smile up at him, absolutely beaming at the God of drink and madness. “Hello, Lord Dionysus!”

“Oho, you could tell it was me? What gave it away?”

The two of you laugh, diving into a conversation. He offers you a cup of wine and is put off with how long it takes you to decline it. He almost thought you looked absolutely ravenous as you peered into the deep red liquid. He shrugs it off and continues to chatter with you until his favorite Zagman stumbles upon the two of you. He’s quick to say hi to you and even leans down to ask you… something. Dionysus misses it, but still watches the way you stiffly nod before you pass the boon to the prince and scurry off.

He’s tempted to ask about it, but decides that he should probably ask you himself instead of trying to pry. Mortals didn’t take well to people snooping around their private lives, which he could respect.

The next time he sees you though, he relaxes you into a sort of peaceful lull as he chats with you before he drops the question.

You stare blankly at him, that dark look in your eye coming back and making his skin crawl. You suddenly laugh it off waving your hands as you tell him that a god shouldn’t worry about a little ol’ shade like you.

He doesn’t push for an answer but the question still swirls in his mind, even as you toddle off after his Zagman pops up. He decides that he’ll actually ask the Prince this time around.

He asks him point blank and Zag, despite him being hesitant at first, decides to spill how you died. You had been the black sheep of your family, never truly fitting into the carefully set path that they wanted you to follow- so you found solace in drinking from a young age. It had taken the edge off of everything, Zagreus recounted you telling him. It filled you with a warmth you had been missing all your life and you couldn’t help but indulge more and more in it until it slowly became your own personal poison. Dionysus grimaced, for once feeling a sort of queasiness in the pit of his stomach as Zagreus continued on with your story. So, one day, you had drunk yourself into a deep stupor after an awful argument with your parents. But, this time, you never woke up. Instead you woke up floating in the river of blood- the River of Styx.

Dionysus had nodded after the Prince finished the story, playing with the goblet in his hand and swirling the red wine that resides in it. He offers a bitter smile to Zag and bids his farewell (of course leaving a boon of his choice with the lad) popping off back to Olympus.

The next time he runs into you, he asks if you’re feeling alright- if you want to talk. You blink at him, confused at first until realization dawns you. You bite your lip, looking down. He’s quick to assure you that you didn’t have to talk about anything- you two could just have a good time like always. You tell him that you’d like that, not yet ready to face your past. He nods, immediately telling you about an embarrassing story about Ares and how much of a lightweight he was which had you letting out an ugly snort along with your loud cackles.

The god begins to take it upon himself to have you smiling more and maybe remedy those dark clouds that appear in your eyes once in a while. He’s pretty observant despite being piss drunk half the time, it also helps that he’s very intune to your emotions for some odd reason, so he’s quick to pick up on when you feel down or your having something the equivalent to a relapse. He has you drink just a little bit from his goblet since it’s better than quitting cold turkey. And that little bit is always enough to quench your thirst and calm you down. You’ve been needing less and less of it as the days (nights?) pass by.

The first time you get Dionysus Ambrosia is the same day that he almost swears that he’ll marry you. He’s quick to grow emotional with the sheer fact that you went out of your way to get something so special for him, his face almost splitting with how wide of a smile he has on his face.

“You got this for me, man?” He says, holding up the bottle in his hand and inspecting it like it’s a precious jewel. “You know this stuff is hard to come by, super hard.”

You nod, the clouds far from your eyes now. “I had to thank you some way and punching a couple of Shades to get my hands on that was worth it.”

“You punched people for me?”

“Of course.”

He fights the urge to squeal and pops the top off, summoning another cup and pouring some in it. “Here’s to us!” He says as he hands you the cup.

He’s honestly never had so much fun just existing with one person. After that he’s never far from you, one usually not seen without the other around- even despite the Underworld not being Dionysus’ favorite place, he can’t help but be willing to venture down there to see you in person (he’s been trying to convince his wonderful Uncle Hades to let you come up with him to Olympus for a little bit- he’s even got his dad and (other) Uncle in on it. Hades officially hates all of them). His gift to you is a matching goblet that will supply you any beverage of your choice. It also has the double power to protect you from all that wishes to harm you, but you’ll learn that in due time. It’ll be more fun that way, Dionysus muses.

Hermes

Cause of Death: Falling

Usually, Heremes wouldn’t have taken the time of day to chatter mindlessly with a shade. But, it was a different story when that shade summoned him through bumping into his boon- now it’s just interesting!

“Eh? Who’re you? It’s kinda strange for a shade to be here and not my Cos, huh? Did something happen to him? You his stand in or something? That’d be kinda funny because you don’t seem like his stand in- not buff enough or something like that.”

You blink slowly taking in the words of his mile a minute speech as he continues to prattle on. You take a seat in front of the quick mouthed god, getting yourself comfortable as he flutters about and chatters. Not like you minded- he filled in the places where you couldn’t with steady conversation. You nod to some of the quips he makes, just to show you were still listening.

He decides then and there that he likes you a lot and that you should meet Charon. As soon as Zagreus pops up to collect the boon- he grabs the back of your robes and goes zooming off with you in tow. You wave to the panicked prince, allowing yourself to be dragged around. He continues to chatter on and on, only taking a break when he reaches the Boatman (who was not expecting a Shade to be accompanying the God of Messengers). He sets you down, tries to introduce you two to each other- realizes he doesn’t know your name, so you end up telling them your name- and then is quick to say goodbye, after he gives a scroll to Charon, and shoots off.

You end up staying with Charon after learning a bit more about the quiet boatman and Hermes is quite pleased when he realizes that he’d be seeing you around a lot more. He’s quick to flutter about you and chatter for a few quick seconds before zipping off. You wave at him.

The process repeats for a while before he finally takes a moment to really sit with you, Charon having gone to pick up more souls and lead them down the River of Styx. He chatters on aimlessly, asking little questions here and there before he decides to ask the million dollar question: “How did you die?”

You blink slowly as him before murmuring that you fell from a very high place, you head cracking open on the rocks at the bottom and now here you are. He asks why you were messing about on a high place, as that seemed to be something most mortals avoided doing. You explained that there was a kitten stuck in an old root on the ledge and you couldn’t just leave her. So, you crawled onto the branch and put her back onto safe ground, but the root gave way and then you went tumbling to your doom.

Hermes is surprisingly quiet throughout the entire exchange until you reach the end and he says: “you’re a real bleeding heart under all that quiet, huh?” You nod solemnly and he laughs, pulling you into a side hug. How could something with such a fleeting life be so selfless with it? He squeezes you harder before he stands up and bids you farwell, shooting off once again. And, again, you wave as he goes.

He grows attached to you quickly afterwards, bringing you little things that might help make you more comfortable down in the Underworld. Of course Charon is there to keep you company which he’s happy about- and he voices that exact thought to the boatman, who just grumbles out a long: uuuuaagghhh as his reply. He pats his arm and says that he knew he’d get it.

When you manage to get your hands on a bottle of Ambrosia- he’s completely blind sided that he almost trips on his own feet. His face flushing a deep red as he takes the offered bottle.

“How’d- how’d you get this?” His speech is all jumbled and jumpy, though he tries to keep the giddy excitement bubbling in his stomach as bay.

“I saved up my coin,” you said, nodding to Charon who nods back. “And bought it from Charon. I would’ve fought for it, but I’m no warrior.”

A smile splits across his face and the wings on the side of his head flutter. He’s quick to scoop you up and hug you, floating up with you as he does.

Hermes is an absolute giddy mess with your offering, not sure if he should kiss you or simply remain holding you. He had a special place for you before but this just solidifies his adoration for you. His gift to you is a pair of boots with wings on the side of them- an exact replica of his (in your size! Somehow-). He promises that they’ll help you get anywhere you want quickly, also the two of you match! How cute is that?

THIS gif deserves a whole post by itself, i lost consciousness.

*Gif credits to owner

Evil pope so laaame, I love him

He me fr fr

Puppy Love

♡ Masterlist~

synopsis: you met him in a dog park, quickly falling in love with his beautiful border collie. And it didn't take long before you were head over heels for him too.

note!! the mini-series will consist primarily of sfw chapters. nsfw chapters will be posted under a separate account and will not be essential to the storyline. if you are of legal age and would like to read the nsfw parts, please dm me so I can give you the url privately.

genre: fluff, slight angst, friends-to-lovers, (n)sfw, idol au

warnings: tooth-rotting fluff, some cursing, mild angst, suggestive content/jokes, and a sickeningly happy ending

teasers: one, two

this is my entry for @seoulbinz 's Puppy Love collab!

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Part 1: Heart

Part 1 and 1/2: Someday (dm for link)

Part 2: Heartbroken

Part 3: One Day

Part 3 and 1/2: All Day (dm for link)

Part 4: Layla-Bound

Part 4 and 1/2: Epilogue (dm for link)

coming January...

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join the taglist in advance!

always thinking about nick robles version of Jason Todd

you have a few favorites? They don't have to be brand new or anything. Just some that you love?

I have some new and some old! Also some Jeddy cuz I’ve been reading a whole lot of Jeddy lately, but I’ll put those in the end! Also, this is gonna be mostly smut because that's what I mostly read unless I’m in a very wholesome mood. This is gonna be long, like very long, I’m bad at picking favorites there are just too many (34 to be exact, apparently and this is the most I could narrow it down). (I also ran out of things to say because I remember loving those fics SO MUCH but I dont remember enough to give a “review”)

The Magic Cat by dot_the_writer

When Harry sees Draco Malfoy with painted nails and wearing an oversized jumper covered in cat fur, his obsession from school comes back in full force. Featuring supportive friends, cute cats and lots of Harry figuring out what he wants.

This one I read just this morning when my best friend asked me to rec her some hurt/comfort (hi Jess) and it’s my most recent favorite. Sooo cute!

A New Page by bixgirl1

Draco just wanted to find out what was up with Potter’s new attitude. Some light stalking, the discovery of a hidden diary, and a lot of wanking later, and he has some answers.

They’re just not the ones he expected.

(Things have changed since sixth year, folks. …Mostly.)

This one also, I read fairly recently and I mean @bixgirl1 fics, do I even need to say more?

The Tapestry of Kinship by khalulu 

Harry is at loose ends, Draco is good with needles, and Draco’s young daughter wants to see a certain tapestry repaired. The Noble and Most Ancient House of Black will never be the same.

Helix by Saras_Girl

Seven months after the end of the war, Harry is feeling lost. Fortunately, he is about to be offered an unexpected and sparkling chance to find himself again. [2014 advent fic]

Sanguis Vita Est by Shiguresan

Whilst Voldemort’s prisoner, Draco is made a vampire and forced to take Harry as his first meal. With Draco managing to resist the temptation to drain him, just barely, in a moment of blind rage at what he has been forced to become, he aids Harry in the destruction of Voldemort. But even with that threat vanquished, once back at Hogwarts, Draco finds himself disturbingly addicted to Harry’s blood. And amongst all this, a dark shadow looms ominously on the outline of the forest, watching them closely. A vampire!Draco story and also an ‘Eighth year’ story.

I read this ages ago but I remember hesitating before I started to read this because it’s 312k+ and I didn’t really read super long fics back then, but I loved this so much, also vampire!Draco is a good

Turn by Saras_Girl

One good turn always deserves another. Apparently.

My favorite execution of the “character’s life kinda sucks so character magically gets sent to an alternate universe” trope. Oh also, it’s part of a series

dirtynumbangelboy by magpie_fngrl

After Harry’s unfortunate encounter with his ex, Draco Malfoy makes him a proposition. Draco wants his parents to stop matchmaking him and Harry wants to make his ex jealous. All they need to do is simply pretend they’re in love. Problem is… Draco already is.

Again another amazing fake relationship fic!

Give Me Sweet Oblivion by tryslora 

Italy seems like a long way to go to keep a fetish secret. But the club is exclusive, and the far away location, and Muggle nature, promises anonymity from Wizarding Britain. The only problem is that sometimes, great minds think alike.

One of the actual hottest smut fics that I’ve read, recced to me by my friend @the-cellar-spiral Fun fact, we planned and failed to write a kind of sequel to this, we had @tryslora ‘s permission and everything, we just never really had time, but who knows maybe in the future.

Every Me and Every You by bixgirl1

Harry liked his life just fine, thankyouverymuch — so it was bad enough when a sly fairy cursed him to leap into alternate realities. But seeing Malfoy in all of them? Definitely way too much. And worse yet: needing the bastard’s help to figure out how to get out of of it.

It was a disaster waiting to happen, really.

Well… probably.

Another AMAZING alternate universe fic, using @magpiefngrl ‘s tumblr prompt AU’s as said alternate universes that Harry keeps going in and out of, which makes it 974957839 times better! Also Unspeakable!Draco, also the alternate realities are almost always sexual and it’s great

Dating for Dads in Denial by aibidil

In which one wizard designs and another reluctantly patronises a magical matchmaking service, amidst the chaos of children and parenting.

Since You Asked by Magnolia822

Newly retired Draco Malfoy writes an anonymous agony column for the Quibbler, for which he quickly gains a reputation for offering pithy, practical advice. His life is comfortably predictable until he receives a letter from a reader seeking a divorce from his wife of thirty years. The situation seems far too familiar … could the writer be the Savior himself?

Salty Sweet by Aelys_Althea

Draco was a Master. He’d always been one, but having a town of Muggles consider him as close to God’s gift as they would ever receive was certainly validating. Except it wasn’t enough. After years of settling, of conjuring masterpieces with his fingers and his prowess, Draco realised he needed a change.

How hard could it be to find an apprentice pâtissier that did what they were told? As it happened, doing ‘what was told’ was about the last thing on his inevitable prospect’s mind. Trust Harry Potter to be the one to turn Draco’s life upside down.

Moldova’s Magical Tea by aibidil

Neville Longbottom, Luna Lovegood, and—to everyone’s surprise—Draco Malfoy are opening a magical tea shop to revive wizarding tea culture and, hopefully, to bring the community together after the war. Harry, who is unemployed and trying to find his way in post-war society, wants to help his friends with their new business—but that means spending a lot of time around Malfoy. Featuring Muggle music from summer 2001, trips to the Muggle cinema, herbology and magical herbal infusions, and Draco trying to convince Harry that, while he’s still a snarky git, he’s no longer a bigot.

The Critiquer by dysonrules

When Harry submits his cock photo to a renowned Cock Critiquer and gets a terrible review, he decides to take a photography class to hopefully improve his skills.

Career Choices: Harry: Shiftless layabout; Draco: Cock Critiquer

But, In Dreams by kedavranox

Harry is a Seer, with a particular affinity for speaking to the dead, but this comes at a price he’s slowly killing himself to pay.

My Name Was Safest in Your Mouth by alpha_exodus

Harry didn’t ask for Malfoy to walk into his shop after so many years. But one event leads to another, and soon they’re scrambling to help Hermione find the solution to one of the most insidious viruses the wizarding world has ever seen. To make matters worse, Malfoy’s hiding something, and Harry really wants to kiss him—except Malfoy doesn’t date. Ever.

I Can’t Take It! by XxTheDarkLordxX

After the war, Draco Malfoy became an author. A best selling author whose books move the hearts of those who read them. Which wouldn’t be a problem for Ron if all of them weren’t about Harry! It was obvious to him that Malfoy was in love with his best friend but why was it that no one else seemed to think so? He was going to get to the bottom of this and get Harry to stop mooning over the blonde idiot at the same time. Perhaps, they just needed someone to come along and get them to fess up. For the safety of his own sanity, Ron was going to help Malfoy ensnare Harry. That is, if they can get along long enough not to kill each other.

The Full Monty by magpie_fngrl

Harry poses for a naked Auror calendar and Draco goes batshit crazy with lust.

Tea and No Sympathy by who_la_hoop

It’s Potter’s fault, of course, that Draco finds himself trapped in the same twenty-four-hour period, repeating itself over and over again. It’s been nearly a year since the unpleasant business at Hogwarts, and Draco’s getting on with his life quite nicely, thank you, until Harry sodding Potter steps in and ruins it all, just like always. At first, though, the time loop seems liberating. For the first time in his life, he can do anything, say anything, be anything, without consequence. But the more Draco repeats the day, the more he realises the uncomfortable truth: he’s falling head over heels for the speccy git. And suddenly, the time loop feels like a trap. For how can he ever get Harry to love him back when time is, quite literally, against him?

Moon-Eyed by loveglowsinthedark 

Draco Malfoy, Head of Veela Affairs at the Department of Magical Beings, does not do people favours.

Harry Potter, recently turned werewolf, is not “people” – not to Draco anyway.

Does Draco plan to fall in love with Harry when he decides to help him? No. Does he end up falling in love with him anyway? Pft, what do you think?

Adventures in Solitude (Are You There, Sirius? It’s Me, Draco) by oceaxe 

Draco is grateful to have had Sirius’ portrait to confide in all those years ago, about his sexuality and unwanted feelings for a classmate named Harry. But when he gets the portrait out of storage after twenty years, the secrets he has kept from Sirius all along come out. Secrets about Draco’s role in the war… and secrets about Harry Potter.

Proof of the Pudding by gracie137 

When Greg’s bakery opens on Diagon Alley, Draco doesn’t expect it to the place he ends up finding love, but then again Harry Potter had always ended up defying Draco’s expectations.

AKA: The One Where Gregory Goyle somehow ends up running both a bakery and a match making service.

The Rules of Matchbreaking by PalenDrome (nerdherderette)

For Prompt #51:When Draco gets fired, he reluctantly agrees to break up a girl’s relationship for her disapproving mother. Through word of mouth, the one-time gig turns him into a professional Matchbreaker, however he winds up falling for one of his clients and must somehow balance his secret job and love life.[excerpt]:“So who is it? The Curse-breaker and the Veela? The head of the Department of Magical Transportation?” Draco’s eyes lit up. “The Dragon-tamer?” Now that particular Weasley could be fun.

“No. It’s Harry,” Hermione said, the name exploding out of her in a rush.

Draco blinked, stunned into silence.

“Harry,” he said, after he recovered his faculties. “You want me to break up Harry and the Weaselette?!“

One Night at the Leaky by birdsofshore

Harry should have known better than to accept a drunken dare. Especially when Malfoy was sitting right there, looking like that and wearing those bloody tight trousers.

This is the very first Drarry fic I read, while trying to research dares for a seungchuchu fic I was writing at the time and it is the fic that made me ship Drarry and it will always hold a special place in my heart.

Ligabus Filium by Tessa Crowley (tessacrowley)

It should be careful, deliberate, but it isn’t. Like every other part of their relationship, it happens gradually and then all at once, before they even realize it. And when the little blue threads bind them together, there’s no going back.

The Printed Press by Soupy_George

Draco Malfoy was still slightly amazed that he was standing on the doorstep of Number Twelve Grimmauld Place. He never would have thought that Harry Potter’s very public and very … sweary, emotional explosion would have led to him offering Draco, of all people, a job.

All Life is Yours to Miss by Saras_Girl

Professor Malfoy’s world is contained, controlled, and as solitary as he can make it, but when an act of petty revenge goes horribly awry, he and his trusty six-legged friend are thrown into Hogwarts life at the deep end and must learn to live, love and let go.

Foundations!verse by Saras_Girl

Reparations by Saras_Girl

Harry is about to discover that the steepest learning curve comes after Healer training, and that second chances can be found in unexpected places.

Foundations by Saras_Girl

When one door closes, another one opens – with a bit of a push. Life, love, and complications. [sequel to Reparations]

So this was included in my healer!Harry rec list but this series is just so good also it has way too many fics in the series for me to link to all of them but once you read the two main fics there’s no way you’re not gonna wanna read the one-shots that come with the series as well.

Are You Mine? by gracerene

A trilogy of fics set in an Epilogue-Compliant Harry Potter ‘Verse, with various accompanying time-stamps and one-shots. Fics are in chronological order.

Not Just When You Want to Be by gracerene

A little over a year after the end of the war, fate seems intent on pushing Harry and Draco together. Staying together is a different matter entirely.

What I’m Waiting to Find by gracerene

James has devoted the past two years to being the best damn Chaser that Puddlemere United has ever seen…and to getting over his teenage crush on Teddy. But when Teddy comes back to England after a long stint abroad, James’s resolve to move on is put to the test.

All of the Time by gracerene

Twenty-five years later, Harry and Draco find their way back to one another.

I read this one fairly recently as well and this is definitely one of my all-time favorite series, the first and third fics are Drarry and the second is Jeddy. I honestly love this so much that I lowkey want to go find @gracerene09 down and thank her for writing such an amazing series. Oh fair warning though, the first fic made me ugly cry and opened a wound that only the third fic could heal so you know, prepare yourself. There are also accompanying oneshots that are also v amazing!

This Must Be the Place by aibidil

When your dad is Harry Potter, your face shows up in Teen Witch, your social media videos go viral, and sometimes your life depends on pretending to date your metamorph godbrother, whom you’ve been over for years, thank you very much. Or, the one where James and Teddy do animal yoga and risqué karaoke and their families could do with seeing fewer videos of them snogging.

I’m a sucker of the fake relationship trope and @aibidil wrote this sooo beautifully

The Hidden Side by gracerene

Twenty years ago today, James Sirius Potter was born into this world. Four years, two months, and six days later, somebody took him.

Oh god this, THIS Auror!Teddy is one of my favorite Teddy’s. Also super intriguing plot and still quite a few unexpected twists even though the biggest revelation you guess/know pretty early on. Oh and background drarry!

some hot takes

broke: akaashi is serious and calm 100% and bokuto pines after him 24/7

woke: akaashi uses the emotionless expression to hide how much of a disaster gay he is. bokuto is oblivious.

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broke: oikawa is in love and constantly flirting with iwaizumi, who is dense and doesn't notice that oikawa's feelings are more than platonic

woke: oikawa's the dense motherfucker here, way too focused on volleyball to realize iwaizumi's feelings. iwaizumi is very much aware and gets angry to hide when he's flustered.

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broke: kageyama is really attracted to hinata and doesn't understand why, hinata has no idea.

woke: hinata is painfully aware of the way he feels about kags. kags geniunely has no clue when hinata attempts to confess. "I like you" "i like playing volleyball with you too, dumbass."

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broke: matsuhana meme lords lmao

woke: both def hide their true emotions behind their carefree nature, both very much afraid to confess to fuck up their friendship

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broke: kyoutani bad boi grrr yahaba pretty boi who confesses and is shy

woke: kyou's afraid of his feelings and hides behind that demeanor. yahaba is a lil too transparent and aggressive with his emotions, probably

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broke: tsukishima is an asshole and yamaguchi is shy™

woke: yamaguchi is NOT afraid to speak up when something is bothering him and his emotions are the only ones that tsukishima genuinely cares about. if anyone is shy and afraid in this dynamic it's tsukishima.

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broke: kuroo is hopelessly in love with kenma. kenma either notices and doesn't care, or doesn't notice

woke: kuroo is the only one that kenma truly feels comfortable around, kuroo is dense asf and only cares about volleyball and doesn't realize how hard he's made kenma fall :/

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broke: ushijima doesn't understand his own emotions towards tendou

woke: ushijima is very much aware of how he feels, and is just doesn't understand why he should confess because he doesn't want to mess with team dynamics