ciin
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His serpent heads taste the air, but there is only smouldering resin; the flavour of lilies just below, packed in close, suffocating, their petals like a blanket stuffed into his mouth. A garland of them over his eyes, so that he cannot turn, cannot steer his serpents away from the gaze of this god-child, his kin. Cannot see how Miquella glimpses over his shoulder, following the path of ruin that has led them here. How his own words settle in the dark like seeds where they will grow.
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From a shattered kingdom, a young stranger comes before Messmer, smelling of lilies and gold, with a story to tell and a favour to ask.
Series
- Part 2 of O Mother Of My Misfortune
Bookmarked by ciin
28 Nov 2025
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Two Men, Crossing the Street by merle_p for brodinsons (aeon_entwined)
Fandoms: The Man From U.N.C.L.E. (2015)
31 Dec 2015
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“They are useless to their countries,” he says slowly. “Everyone knows their real names, their faces. A spy who cannot spy. Is like – like a car that cannot drive. Useless.”
“Ah,” Napoleon says quietly, as if he finally understands what Illya is so angry about. But he doesn’t, Illya thinks, he can’t know, not really, and he isn’t sure if it’s sadness or relief he feels at the thought.
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Bookmarked by ciin
25 Sep 2025
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with the door wide open no one can leave by sulfate
Fandoms: Tennis no Oujisama | Prince of Tennis
06 Aug 2021
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Yukimura has always been the furthest-seeing one of them all. Or: Niou and Marui, after their world ends.
Series
- Part 2 of like a second heart
Bookmarked by ciin
04 Jan 2025
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Where is it written? He will burn that, too. This should be a world that no longer chains them with rules, with proclamations and prophecies. They have torn that world down, an old curtain from the wall, and unrolled their mother's glorious tapestry in its place.
So why is her blood pooling in his hands?
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Those who have never birthed something from a forge think all fires burn the same. Messmer and Melina know better.
Series
- Part 1 of O Mother Of My Misfortune
Bookmarked by ciin
23 Dec 2024
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“Hypocrisy doth not suit thee, my golden brother,” he leans towards him, looking him straight in the eyes and he, the perfect son of the Goddess, feels pierced, like a butterfly – no one has ever looked at him so, with hatred, with disgust. “Nay, in truth...” he corrects himself, and smiles a broad smile, his teeth white and his gums dark, almost purple, “it doth suit thee perfectly.”
Godwyn is the perfect golden child, until he is not.
Series
- Part 2 of Into something rich and strange
Bookmarked by ciin
12 Sep 2024