#*&. BORN TO KICK BALLS. ( ooc. )

[talentforlying]

@whcwashe mentioned a couple days ago how overlooked john's artistic ability is, including the way he's able to paint sigils with such mathematical perfection (i.e. in the nbc pilot), and i just think with how bookish he is + how adept in mathematics they show him being as a kid in dead boy's heart, it would make perfect sense for him to have researched and borrowed a lot of geometric artistic techniques from leonardo da vinci to use in the more physical aspects of magic and ritual.

[og-penelope-eckart]

To be frank, I found the reveal that Reynold stole the necklace and framed Penelope and do nothing the whole time she was mistreated because of it rather ooc. I never took Reynold as the kind of person who would do such an underhanded thing and could keep quiet about it for years without the guilt eating him away. Until now I counted Reynold among the most redeemable characters of the Eckart duchy, precisely because I had assumed that he was clueless about the majority of abuse/scapegoating happening at home and that he had build his bad image of her mainly on the necklace incident that was further and further reinforced with each following accusation. I don't understand why the author dropped such a reveal on the reader in the middle of what was supposed to be his redemption arc. All it does is make Reynold look much worse and less worthy of forgiveness.

This new bit of information also means Reynold should have guessed that this act tranformed Penelope into the scapegoat of the Eckart duchy. He knew more about Penelope's character than anybody else. He knew that Penelope isn't a thief, because he stole the necklace, he knew she isn't a liar, because he was the one who framed her, he knew her outbursts aren't because she's a spoiled brat with anger issues, but because no one believes her and will never ever believe her again. He should have guessed that she wasted their father's fortune on jewelry out of spite for being called a jewelry thief. That means when he saw Penelope breaking things or hitting a maid, he should have at least considered that she must have had a reason for doing this. When Penelope was accused of something bad which she denied vehemently, was he never reminded of the past incident where she too insisted on her innocence in front of a crown who already had cast their judgement on her and among which he was the only one who knew she told the truth but refused to step forward and confess? Did it never occour to him that she spoke the truth right now, like she did in the past?

I do think Penelope would have still gotten abused, because of Leila's curse and her and Cha Siyeon lived mirrored lives. As far as I know there was no necklace incident that turned everyone against Cha Siyeon. She just had the misfortune of being a commoner thrown into the middle of the wealthy elite and their servants who had adapted their masters' elite disdain of the lower classes. If the necklace incident had not happened, something else would have happened that they would have used as an excuse to abuse her. Children do alot of stupid things, if they already viewed her as a petty criminal for stealing a necklace, they would have treated her like a wild animal just for pulling some innocent mischief or applying commoner rules in situations that required her to know noble's etiquettes. During playtime she might accidentally kick a ball through the window of Ivonne's room and break a window, and the staff would be given an opportunity to trash her again. The servants would accuse her of having done this purposefully out of malice towards the missing lady. Penelope is an outgoing girl who grew up on the streets, understandably she'd have a hard time adjusting to a noblegirl's lifestyle. It would have been only a matter of time until she'd make a mistake that the duchy would not forgive her. They were looking for an excuse to reject this girl and drive her away. I mean the knights were bullying Iklies just because he was born a Delman. He didn't do anything that would warrant the abuse, they did it just because he was an easy target and kicking someone at the bottom made them feel powerful.

Had Reynold not framed her, Derrick may have set something in motion. I found the idea that Derrick employed a maid who was already suspected of thieving as Penelope's maid and let her clean Ivonne's room, anticipating that she might take some valuables and hide her in Penelope's quarters, much more believeable than Reynold taking the necklace and pinning the blame on her. I thought he would be too honest for this. He strikes me as the type who'd use his fists and rude mouth to hurt Penelope directly. Never would I have expected him to hurt her in an indirect way that required him to sneak around and lie. Does he not feel dirty for using his dead sister's medaillon as an instrument of his petty revenge against a poor orphan girl?

I think to not notice the abuse you'd have to be blind. Reynold likes to walk into Penelope's room unanounced, if only to mock her and look for a fight. He isn't afraid to come close to blows with her. There must have been plenty of instances where he should have spotted the injuries on her arm. He's also hanging around with the knights on the training ground. There's no way he never heard how they trash talked her. If he didn't notice the abuse in canon because of plot TM reasons, then it would depend on the author's will if he'd notice it in an AU. I can't say if he would or would not. Realistically he should have spotted the signs years ago.

So I think Penelope's isolation would have always happened but slightly differently. Supposing Reynold never caught her praying for Ivonne to remain missing and the necklace incident never happened, Reynold may have played with Penelope and they would have been egging each other on, they'd have done mischief for which Penelope would always be blamed and Reynold not, even thought he would have been the one who instigated it. I don't think they'd become friends but Reynold would be the kind of distant elder brother who'd pick her as a playmate when he's bored simply because there aren't any other kids his age availible to him. He'd enjoy picking on her, scaring her, rolling around the grass with her wrestling with her, showing her something and have her in awe when he demonstrates his wisdom that only a 14 year old boy possesses and that could only impress a girl 2 years his junior. Something would have happened and their relationship would have fallen apart easily, but Reynold would not leave Penelope alone. Just like in canon he'd dance around her and provoke her. I think Reynold is a lonely boy and he and og Penelope were somewhat similar. Unfortunately he was allowed free reign ("boys will be boys" I imagine the maids found him charming), wheras Penelope was being judged & punished by different standards. Every teenage mishap would have been taken as proof of her bad character. Secretly Reynold wanted a little sister but he doesn't know how to be nice to her, because no one wants him to be nice to her and it feels like a betrayal towards Ivonne to be nice to her. He would get suddenly so mean to her when he caught himself accidentally treating her like he would have Ivonne for a moment.

Maybe he would catch some of the abuse, ignore it or even participate in the knights' more harmless bullying of her but when it crosses a certain line he would kinda tell the staff off in an "only I get to bully her" way.

[moons0uled]

1 like and i’ll make a hitoka yachi blog... 

[theirvictory-moved]

STARTER  CALL  !!   like for a starter,  specify muse if you’re a multi. 

[youngbloodtma-blog]

I’VE MOVED HERE! 

[eggplcnt-blog1]

i hope stephanie brown is happy and hydrated and smiling wherever she is rn

[cariaed]

i just want to cri about how proud cecy would be of izzy and alec and max if she ever meets them

[rozcdust]

Mockingbird

Pairing: Shinichiro Sano x F!Reader

Genre: Crack, fluff

Word count: 1.3k

Warnings: Canon divergent, OOC, profanity, mentions of child neglect, training martial arts, y/n wants to lovingly squish every child she meets

You were born rotten, but he had a chance.

pt. 1 | previous | playlist

Kakucho was a sweet, excitable boy, bouncing on the balls of his feet yet trying really hard to stand still next to Izana, who was apparently amused by his friend’s endeavours.

Izana threw you a defensive, yet nervous look when you first laid your eyes upon Kakucho, as if to challenge you to say anything about his scar or the age gap in their friendship, but you merely shrugged, introducing yourself to the boy.

“Okay!” Clapping your hands, you shot a small smile at the two boys, both standing at attention, “First of all, basics. Muay thai is also called ‘The art of eight limbs’. Why?”

“Because it uses fists, elbows, knees and feet.” Izana responded, and you smiled in approval.

“Very good! It is a form of kickboxing, so footwork is just as important as striking, and that is what we’ll be practising today. But firstly,” Your smile turned into a mischievous grin, “I’d like to see where you are at, skill-wise. So, hit me as hard as you can. Kicking, punching, grappling, whatever you please.”

Izana and Kakucho both looked at you surprised, sharing a nervous look among themselves, but Izana stepped forward to do as your asked.

He seemed like he was going in for a roundhouse kick, but at the last second, his body shifted, and he went in with a spinning hook kick, his foot aiming directly for your face.

It was clearly too forceful to block without injury, the kid was strong, so you ducked down instead, grabbing his ankle firmly as your foot connected with the back of his knee, sending him sprawling on the floor.

You let go of his leg with a smile, offering him a hand and pulling him up to his feet.

“Excellent! You have the force and a technique, quite rare for your age, I assume you have a background in taekwondo? That will help with muay thai significantly, you have some of the footwork down already. Sweetheart?” You smiled at Kakucho, “Your turn.”

Kakucho gulped nervously, sending Izana a questioning look, but the teen shrugged, motioning ‘Go ahead’ with his hands.

You barely even felt the tiny punch Kakucho tried to land on your stomach, taking a deep breath in to not just immediately scoop him up into your arms, squish his cheeks and coo at him.

You really have a lot of cuteness aggression to work through, huh?

“Good job, baby!” Simply leaning down to pat his head instead, you smiled at the boy, standing up to your full height as you straightened out your back.

“Alright, boys! 5 laps, 20 minutes of stretching, 20 minutes of rope jumping, then footwork.”

Izana let out a groan, but he and Kakucho followed suit as you started running.

Izana and Kakucho barely managed to finish the last cool-down lap, both flushed in the face as they fell to the floor next to each other, panting.

You barely even broke a sweat, standing above them with a smug smile as you offered them two bottles of water, which they happily took, sitting up only for a second to down it before plopping back to the floor again.

Maybe you were a little too harsh with the strength and footwork training.

“Grandpa… Invited… You… For… Dinner.” Izana managed to wheeze out, his eyes tightly shut as his chest fell and rose at an alarming rate.

You quirked an eyebrow, leaning down to take a closer look at the two boys.

Sighing, they let out a small noise of surprise as you gingerly picked them both up as if they weighed nothing, putting them over your shoulders, but neither complained, clearly grateful they didn’t have to use their legs.

Walking out of the dojo with the two boys, you tried to gently knock with your foot, but it ended up sounding more like you were actively trying to break down the door.

Shinichiro opened the door in alarm, his eyes widening as they passed from his brother’s exhausted face, to your sweet and friendly expression, to Kakucho’s half-dead look.

“Are you two fine?”

“Fucking peachy.” Izana wheezed out, glaring at his brother as if he were stupid.

Kakucho merely nodded, still panting like a dog, his eyes closed.

“We had a great workout!” Smiling, you entered the house, taking off your shoes with your feet as Shinichiro led you to the living room.

You deposited the two on the couch, causing Emma to wrinkle her nose and scoot away from her brother.

“You stink.”

Mansaku looked positively thrilled.

“Excellent! That is what a child should look like after a good workout!” Patting your back proudly, his eyes turned to Shin, “Do you think you could get this one to train with you too? Maybe make sure he grows a spine?”

Shinichiro laughed nervously.

“I’m not small or cute enough to gain her empathy, so she might just actually kill me.“

“After you’ve ruined her clothes? You deserve it.”

“GRANDPA!”

After Izana and Kakucho recovered and took a quick shower, Emma and Kakucho took it upon themselves to colour in your black and grey sleeve with markers, which Shinichiro freaked out about at first, but relaxed when he realised they were in fact, non-toxic.

Izana eventually joined, colouring in the chrysanthemums and spider lilies of your tattoo red, a task he seemed quite concentrated on.

You sat perfectly still, your arm outstretched on the coffee table to allow all three children easy access to the tattoo.

People weren’t always so accepting of tattoos, associating them with gangs and crime, but you were happy Shinichiro’s family posed no questions, the tattoos being a source of entertainment rather than a cause for concern.

And it was just a little cathartic to see the black and grey sleeve become colourful.

The tattoos on your arms were a gift to yourself for your 18th birthday, the tattoo artist you did an apprenticeship with the one to do them, an idea you thought of long and hard for years.

A skeleton with a viper and an even number of flowers to represent you, and the colourful tiger with the setting sun to represent Kazutora.

The rotting corpse of a killer and the shining light of the victim.

You considered them rather appropriate.

“Well, now we’re waiting on Manjiro.” Sighing, Shinichiro shook his head, glancing up at the clock that was already pointing to a little past 9, “You’ll like him, y/n. He’s a little menace.”

You didn’t have to worry much, Baji and Kazutora had arranged a sleepover for themselves so you were in no rush to get home.

“That boy is impossible.” Huffing, Mansaku seemed close to popping a blood vessel, glancing at the already set dining table as he retreated upstairs, mentioning that he has to do something rather quickly.

Speak of the devil.

The front doors opened, and the sound of a jacket ruffling and shoes being kicked off coming from the hallway as Manjiro walked in.

Your face warped in confusion.

He barely even glanced at you, throwing himself down on the couch and looking at his grandfather with sad, begging eyes.

“Grandpaaaaa! I’m hungry…”

“Manjiro, greet the guest! You’re so damn rude!”

Mikey looked towards you, straightening out on the couch with a confused expression.

“Y/n?”

“Oh, you’re Tora’s friend, right?”

Shinichiro apparently did not hear your little exchange.

“Manjiro, this is my girlfriend!” Shinichiro smiled at his little brother, proudly gesticulating towards you.

“Are you concussed?” Manjiro deadpanned, tilting his head, looking straight at you, “Clinically insane, maybe? Visually impaired?“

“What?”

Shinichiro let out an offended huff as Izana snickered.

“Mikey! Not very nice!”

Mikey jumped to stand on the couch, raising his hands in defence.

“She’s cool! What is she doing with you?!”

“Maybe she thinks I’m cool!”

“I do not.” You muttered out, making the children colouring in your arm laugh.

“Shin got rejected 20 times!”

“Manjiro!”

“I do agree that his hair was ugly before.”

“Shin, aren’t you in love with Takeomi?!”

You barked out laughter as Shinichiro’s blood pressure rocketed.

“I am not, nor have I ever been, in love with Takeomi!”

“You know, I did always find your hangouts with that boy suspicious.” Mansaku appeared out of nowhere, tapping his chin.

“GRANDPA! PLEASE! HOW DO THE TWO OF YOU KNOW EACH OTHER ANYWAYS?!”

“Mikey is my brother’s friend.”

“I REALLY AM!”

“And I think he kicked my dad.”

“EXCUSE ME, WHAT?”

. . . next

🔖Taglist (open):

@dilf-city @wakasa-wifey @rinsie @kisekihany @missarabellla @bajifairyy @cryszus @r-xochitl @levistiddies @graythecoffeebean @yukihime-mikeys-girl @mukounisuru-gashadokuro @sunahyejin @yamaguccitadashi @minoozi @trashmemebitch @frogtits1 @sup-zfam @whydohumansss @xashiui @bontens-whore @nqctre @lumi-does-some-stuff @hana-patata @hxked @erza-uzumaki @sh4nn @sisnot @soushswag @kneeapartman @anahryal @reiners-milkbiddies @satsuri3su @aretheea @bluerskiees @galactict3a @bontensbabygirl @somniari-94 @astropheia @rgtgt @bubble-dream-inc @princesshaitani @luvjiro @inurmom00 @secretanimesimp @sweeneyblue1 @ameliabs-world @levii-s @artemis1862 @iheartamajiki

a/n: JUST TO CONFIRM, THIS WILL NOT END UP LIKE FIGHTING DOG, PINKY PROMISE also istg baby kaku owns my entire heart 🤧🤧

[matt-imagines-popcorn]

Hi there, I'm SUPER happy that you write for Darkstalkers! Could I request some headcanons with Jedah and Jon Talbain with a female-born human s/o who looks super confident and intimidating in public (ie, covered in tattoos and on the more muscular side, could absolutely kick someone's ass without question), but in private is actually self-conscious about their appearance and could use a little reassurance from their boys? Thank you so much! <3

Hell yeah, still struggle writing Jedah tho so his bit might be a part OOC

Warnings; Does get a bit suggestive on Jedah’s bit (again - I could not help myself), spoilers for Jon's ending in DS3

Jedah Dohma and Jon Talbain with an intimidating but self-conscious girlfriend [fem! reader]

Jedah Dohma

Jedah isn’t peculiarly drawn toward humans, viewing them as a source of energy. But I'm sure, based on appearances and attitude alone you catch Jedah’s eye. Most upon seeing him coward in fear, begging for mercy, and yet you stood tall, fist balled, and promptly told him to “fuck himself,”. While, in the heat of the moment, did make his blood boil, he thought about the encounter afterward and debated if she were brave to stand up against him or simply too much of a fool to see the danger.

But, from the first moments he met her, he could see right through her intimidating front and right into her insecure core. It doesn’t surprise him, despite how gorgeous he thought she looked. Your strength alone was enough to gather his full attention on you, wasn’t that enough? Of course, the more sensible part of him understands that a few simple words aren’t going to magically make you feel all better.

While dating, he tries to reassure you in subtle ways, before you feel a need to ask. Tracing tattoos (if possible) and asking about the meanings behind them, massaging muscles as he listens. Bedroom activities now have a chance of being a bit more on the tamer side, with Jedah taking a more submissive role. Him worshiping your muscles and tattoos that beautifully mark your body, and praise flows out of his mouth as naturally as breathing.

Jon Talbain

Jon also isn’t too terribly fond of humans. The adults drove him out of society when his dark side started to show and even after a few years his curse was cured. He naturally holds a grudge against them. Your intimidating appearance is what drew him in, but your strength and kindness toward him are what allowed you to stick around. Your strength brings both relief and annoyance. On one hand, he has less to worry about, knowing you're able to care for yourself. On the other hand, however, he finds himself rather attracted to you, and your strength only adds to the fire.

When he first hears word of his girlfriend’s insecurities, he’s not surprised. Humans are cruel, especially to their own kind. It’s not a surprise they pushed you out just because of your appearance as well - despite how much it saddens him. Jon isn’t well with words, but he tries to verbally express his admiration towards you. How she has him bewitched whenever she wears short sleeves, or how he can't help but look away when she shows off her strength, feeling himself get flabbergasted at the sight. If words fail, he’ll opt to curl himself around you, snuggling close.

Thankfully, Fred and Marco (The orphans Jon is currently looking after) have no problems talking about how cool you look. When you visit they often come running up and hang off of you, giggling as you swing them around and roughen them up a bit. When the two are asleep Jon admits to you that they want to be like you one day. It warms his heart seeing you smile at that.

[uwuwriting]

Sakusa and Ushijima seeing their wife and child at their game.

Request: UM EXCUSE ME BUT DAD PRO PLAYERS ARE A MUST HAVE IN MY LIFE. I know you haven’t done anything with dads yet but maybe Skusa and Ushijima seeing their wife and child at one of their game. It’s a surprise though so they don’t expect it. THANK YOU!

OMG ANON THIS IS AN AMAZING ASK. I have another dad related ask which I’ll get to later this week I hope *or maybe next week*. I haven’t written Sakusa before so I’m sorry if he’s a little OOC. Hope you like it. Love yaa.💖💖💖

rules

warnings: fluff

characters are aged up 

Sakusa Kiyoomi

-How did you manage to end up with a child from this man?

-I mean mister germaphobe here actually slept with someone? And got her pregnant?

-In all seriousness he would do anything for you and his son. 

-From the moment he was born, Oomi was wrapped around his little finger. 

-Not being able to see you two as much as he wants leads to him being kind of a push over with both of you. 

-He will shower you with affection after sanitizing you, the house, your son and himself  giving you as any kisses as possible and then cuddling you during the night, holding you as close as possible.

-As for your son...he will be spoiled from sunrise to nightfall. 

-He wants a new volleyball even though he has 3? Done.

-He wants a toy that he saw at some random store? Done.

-You’ll have to talk to Oomi about it since you are starting to become the bad guy since you are the one who says NO every once in a while. 

-Poor man wants to make up for lost time. 

-Your son has gotten into volleyball of course, even at the early age of five he already trains with his dad whenever he can.

-So when Oomi has a game that isn’t in another country your son is ecstatic. 

- “Daddy’s game is in Tokyo this time! It’s not that far! Can we go please????”

-You wanted to go yourself, it had been ages since you had seen one of his games in person.

-So you agreed under the condition that he keep it a secret. 

- “Let it be a surprise for daddy hm?”

-Once Oomi left for the match you went to your bedroom and put one your Black Jackals n. 15 jersey.

-Then you went to your son’s room finding him struggling to put on his makeshift MSBY 15 jersey that his dad bought him for Christmas.

-You helped him and you were out the door in no time. 

-Entering the gym you took your seats in the bleachers and waited for the match to begin. 

-Usually you would text or call Sakusa to wish him good luck but not this time.

-And boy did it affect him. 

-He was so grumpy during warm up until he heard a very familiar squeal when they stepped on the court and were getting into receiving position. 

-Looking at the bleachers he immediately spotted you, holding your son in your arms both of you adorning his number. 

-He was filled with so much determination and giddiness that it was a shocker to Atsumu who saw his teammate smile for the first time. 

-After a successful game, he will rush home accompanied by the two of you, listening to his son rambling on about what he saw and what he wanted to learn. 

-He will shower doing his usual routine of sanitizing and cleansing his skin from germs with the power of the gods before scooping both of you up and cuddling you on the couch. 

-He thanks you for going to his game because you pushed him to give his all. 

-Might promise his son to take him to his practice the next day.

Ushijima Wakatoshi

-Our baby Toshi here has wanted to start a family with you for so long. 

-Since you graduated high school and moved in together to be exact.

-He knows however that his occupation keeps him away from home a lot and he wouldn’t want to raise a child who doesn’t know him. 

-He wants to be there for everything. 

-So when you announce a few years later that you’re pregnant he is almost panicking. 

-He has to be here for everything. 

-You sit down and talk things through agreeing and making compromises, finally getting to the exciting part that was that you were having a baby!!

-Fast forward five years later and now you are a mother of two. 

-A five year old boy who has you hair and his eyes.

-And a three year old girl who has his hair and your eyes. 

-They are literally a mix match result of the both of you. 

-Despite their age they are both crazy over volleyball, practicing with their dad when he doesn’t have practice and even attending his practices running around catching balls. 

-They are adorable to say the least. 

-Toshi is there for the majority of the important moments and he spends all his free time with them, trying to make up for lost time. 

-They always accompany you to the airport to say goodbye no matter the time and are always with you to meet him when he comes back. 

-Facetime before going to bed is a must if you want them to sleep in their beds, otherwise they’ll take over your bed and basically kick you out. 

- “We didn’t talk to daddy!” your daughter would say with a pout that looked too much like your own. 

- “Yeah and now you lose bed privileges.” your son would add before hopping onto the bed. 

-At first you thought they were kidding but when they wouldn’t budge you had to call Wakatoshi and complain about your kids’ bullying. 

-He would of course laugh at first and then ask to see them. 

-So yeah.. they are overly attached to him.

-It makes you jealous at times. 

-So when a game was close to your house the kids started acting more like angels than ever. 

-They would do whatever you wanted and not question you. 

-That’s how you knew that they wanted to go to the game. 

-You see your kids had two modes 1) I’ll help you drive mom crazy and 2) don’t you dare breath in my direction. 

-So when they both wanted the same thing mode n. 1 is in constant affect and you’re kinda scared of how easily they work together when they want to. 

-You surprise them with shirts with their dad’s jersey number as you yourself are wearing one of his older jerseys. 

-Now your daughter prefers your shirt and will ask if there’s another one which she can wear as a dress but sadly there isn’t (she would also look like a potato sack with Ushijima’s huge shirt one her).

-When you get to your seats the match is starting and your son is scanning the other team as they serve. 

-Both Ushijima children follow the ball with such concentration like wow. 

-Then the ball falls on the opposite side and dad Ushijima is going for a serve. 

-Both of them are screaming/chanting for their dad and you were certain that they were they were the loudest in the gym. 

-Ushijima looks at them( he spots them immediately no matter where he is )and gives them a soft smile, his whole body swelling with bride and fuzziness. 

-The whole game continues with the two of them cheering and you laughing next to them as you see how terrified some of the opponents are. 

-True Ushijima strength right here. 

-After the game its ice cream and a family outing because he is just so happy and proud he could combust. 

TAG TEAM AY:

@brattyquirks​  @the-arcana-fan-fic​ @angelwritings​

[the-crows-typist]

Finally, we arrive at the fifth and final installment of our Valentine’s Event and closing with Cater Diamond paired with the word ‘Sunset’ which was requested by my good friend @twistinghearts​​. Please enjoy this, albeit, very late gift.

CW: Slow burn, OOC, minor mention of forced labor themes (in passing), minor mention of death (in flashbacks), mentions of blood, and Angst and Comfort under the cut. Please proceed with caution.

Word count: 6384

Other works: Chocolates Feat. Jade, Cards Feat. Floyd, Kiss Feat Vil, Flowers Feat. Kalim

A Heart From Me To You

A Diamond shines in different angles, in different light. It was sought after and cherished by those around him. Like the jewel his family was named after, Cater Diamond was one such person sought after by many. His skin smooth as silk, eyes teasing and bright like emeralds, and hair the shined in the sun like amber. He was a beautiful man.

“My diamond, come here.”

His lips pressed into a straight line in a moment, hesitant but readied. His green eyes look up to the aristocrat with a smile, the red birthmark on his cheek brushed by oiled fingers made a shiver rise up his spine.

“Look at me, darling. Smile at me.”  

Cater waited for the disgust to leave and his eyes to flutter closed.  What should have been a shared kiss became the swift plunge of a sword through the back, its tip barely grazing the beauty's skin with red droplets.

The clank of metal, the barking of orders; knights and guards rampaged the room in droves with arms taking him and pulling him down to the ground onto his knees. “Halt.” Came the voice of the attacker, your blade oozing at the tip as the fallen aristocrat crumples to the floor with labored breath.

Heavy footsteps come along, your eyes scanning the area of any more potential threats. Your step on the dying aristocrat on your way in yet you never regarded them with an apology, instead opting to look to the doll, to Cater.

“State your name.” You say, voice oozing with authority “What is your affiliation with this pig?” And like the namesake, the aristocrat squealed under your heavy foot. Even with the air of authority, your voice brought him a sense of calm. Freedom.

“Cater Diamond…”

There were murmurs, whispers, and looks towards him in awe, in surprise…In pity.

“Diamond?” Whispered one of the guards to another. “A jewel family?”

“That poor thing, I can’t bear to think about what has happened to those before him.”

“We can’t leave him here.” Said one of your comrades, Sebek. “This is no place for him to stay.”

“Bring him with us.” You turned to leave the room, sheathing your bloodied blade and making sure to step over the dying socialite again on your way out.

"And the pig?" Asked one of the knights who lightly kicked them in the face with a steel-toed boot.

“Do what is needed.” A cruel line brought on cruel laughter, Cater was pushed away from the room sparing him the cruelty of the knights in question. Though deep down, the diamond would have loved to see every second of it.

The trumpets sound in song at the return of the knights; Malleus Draconia, the ruling monarch, descended from his throne, and just as you had been taught and trained you knelt before him. "Your highness, we have returned safely.”

“Stand up dear one, remove your helmet.” Said the king whose fingers delicately held your helmet like a father giving affection to his child. You do so under his command, removing it to reveal your battle-torn face and with a flick of his finger and gentle caress, your wounds disappeared like dust to the wind.

“I do not doubt your abilities one bit,” He says, holding your chin and inspecting your face for any scratches he may have missed. All your life, you were taught to be the kingdom’s shield, its protector, its hero no matter what the task may be. Yet, when the Draconia family took to the throne things had become more different. “But you must be less careless.”

“It is only right that I do what I am told.”

Under a veiled sigh, he commanded you with the tone of a king. “Tell me what has been done.”

“We have eradicated one of the North’s primary figureheads and dealt surrounding the kingdom, they will no longer be a threat to us,” There was a moment of hesitation in your voice, remembering what might have been had you come in a second too late. Malleus’s eyes that shined with life could have cracked and dulled right in front of you. “We also found a doll and was able to safely remove them with no resistance.”

There was a time when those in power cast a reign of fear and greed on those they were meant to protect and a sick practice was born out of the treacherous tar of corruption.

It made Malleus’ stomach crawl knowing how many families were separated and made to kowtow to the needs and of those in power, forced to take up precious jewels as their names as a way to strip them of their identity, their humanity, their being. 

“And what of the scoundrel?”

"Squealed like a pig and died like one."

A cruel punishment meant for a cruel creature, the king nods his head sagely. “Good. And what of the doll?”

“He is currently resting in the private quarters we have provided. His name is Cater, born from the Diamond family.”

“Diamond…” His heart sinks and eyes closed, your eyes looking down to your feet when the air changed. Malleus shook his head “To think they still exist, those poor souls.”

His hand rests on your shoulder, rubbing it lightly. “Rest easy, dear one. I will request for your audience soon.”

You bow your head, sweaty soaked hair framing your face. “Thank you, your highness.”

As he gazed from the window of the small room, Cater's hands pressed against the warm glass while the sun began to set on the horizon casting an orange hue towards him. In his old room, the windows were small and high above him, only ever depositing rain or frost.

Here, however, he sees everything. From the bustling streets below to the laughs of children and adults alike. This world was warm as the orange hues of the setting sun, he liked it. His hand slid down the glass with a squeak, his mind going back to you the moment you killed the aristocrat that was coming onto him.

Even if the conversation was brief, your voice was gentle and soft, unlike the barking guards the encompassed you and held him down. If it were possible, he wanted to meet you, to speak to you again, to thank you for what you did.

A soft knock on the door and a small man emerged from behind the heavy door, his uneven hair revealed bits and pieces of magenta red that matched his playful yet worn eyes.  

“Greetings, your name is Cater Diamond correct?”

“Yes, um. Who are you?”

“Ah,” The smaller mind held a hand to his chest. “My apologies, dear one. I am Lilia Vanrouge, the royal advisor to the king.”

Cater’s body froze as scrambled to get to his knees. “F-forgive me, I—!”

“There is no need for that. A polite curtsey will do next time.”

“I came here to discuss something with you, Mr. Diamond. Please, stand up and sit on a proper chair. Though the weather is pleasant, the night brings a very bad chill to the floor, you might freeze if you continue like that!" Lilia pats his shoulder and lets out his hand for the beautiful man to take and hold.

When Cater sits down on the bed, Lilia pulls out a chair and begins to speak not long after he is seated comfortably. “As you know, the kingdom you once knew as home—.”

“That place is not my home.”

Eyes of fuchsia widen at his sudden outburst. “It was a prison and I don’t want to go back there. Ever.” His hands ball in his lap through the small giggling fits of the advisor “Then that settles one concern, on to the next.” Lilia says with a laugh, his hands on his hips and eyes narrowed to a teasing glance. “Tell me, Cater, where do you want to live from now on?”

With grunts, you hurled your ax over a block of wood and easily split it in half, adding itself to a large pile. It had been days since your last conversation with the King and you were only biding your time until your next assignment.

Your home was a comfortably small cottage near the foot of the forest isolated from the townspeople with a nice dining room that bled into the living room and the second floor being a neat storage of items to the cellar where you kept your food. Life within it was slow and boring, and you were fine with that.

You wouldn’t call your life boring nor would call your life adventurous either. It was all about duty, you were trained to be a knight, fought like a knight, and bore the pain of being so. As extreme as it may sound, you knew you deserved this life. You were born for it.

Out of habit, you pull your gloves tighter against your fingers.

Tightening your grip against the handle, you pulled it out with a huff and inspecting the sharp edge for any damage.

“It seems that you are stocked to the brim.”

Silver stands before you in comfortable attire, he had been a sort of brother-classmate as you grew together. He stood up for you as you did for him, he meant a lot to you despite the long time you were apart. "The nights get colder each passing day." You say, setting the ax down onto the ground. "I just want to be ready."

“Do you need some help carrying this inside?" Inquired the silver-haired man.

“Please.”

Inside the cottage, Silver nodded off against the warmth of the fireplace even after you set a mug of tea next to him. "Any reason you came to visit me, Silver?" The charred wood crackled against the flames that cast a comfortable orange into the room, like warm miniature sunset. In a few minutes, Silver regained his bearings; shaking his head to rid himself of the sleeping spell put over him.

Even years after he was hit by it, there had been no progress to remove it.

“I heard you came back from the North." He said. "I just wanted to know if you were doing alright. That place…" He drawled off, eyes hanging halfway down. "That place hasn't changed one bit." You say, holding the warm mug to your hand. "The winters are still perilous and the frost remains where it last sat on."

Silver hums, head lolling about, and with a sigh you stand up from your seat. Taking a blanket, you drape it over the Silver to allow him to get comfortable. Sitting back down, you try to focus on the sound of crackling fire against the cold winds that blew against your window.

By the time you awoke, Silver was already gone and the warm rays of the morning sun seeped through frosted windows, the fire long put out and now cold from water and sand. Pushing yourself off the chair, the blanket slipped off your body.

Opening the door, you were met by a world unhindered by snow. Green spread where frost would bite, birds would sing where the wind would whistle, and warmth where the unforgiving cold would settle. A carriage would soon stumble on the horizon, the royal family's insignia shining like gold. Malleus and Lilia disembark, their feet protected with layers of flowers and dewed grass.

“Your Majesty.” You say as you bow.

“It is good to see you, dear one.” The king stated, regarding you with a smile. “Lift your head for me.”

Behind him, Lilia helps down another person from the cart. Hair as bright as amber, eyes twinkling like emeralds, and lips as pink as rose quartz. Cater Diamond stood behind the royal advisor unsure of what to do but admire the scenery before him, his bare feet fiddling with the grass under him.

“What brings his majesty to this part of the kingdom?” Malleus’ hand touches your head, like a father consoling his child.

“Your final assignment.”

You didn’t know what to feel even after Malleus dropped off Cater at your home. All your life, you were taught to be a knight…And yet,

"You've done many great things for this kingdom, dear one. You are a great knight and a great leader, I am prideful of that…”

You could still feel the weight of his hand atop your head.

“But it is time that you finally found peace and through this final assignment, I hope to see that to fruition. Take care of Cater for he has chosen you as his home.”

Even with the kind words spoken onto you by the King, you feel as though you have failed in your duties as a knight. It was no wonder Silver decided to visit you, he was coming to see if you were ready for what was to come.

That one, really, ever a worrywart for his friends.

“Um, I’ll set my things here.”

Cater’s footsteps were tittering, gentle and unsure as he set a single sketchbook and pencil down onto the table. “Feel free.” You say and sit down near the fireplace. His grumbling stomach cut your thoughts, his fingers fumbling and then it hit you; your pantry was empty after you’ve been away for so long. Grimacing, you let out a sigh and starched the back of your head. You weren’t able to go on a supply run…

“…There’s a bakery not too far from here,” You say suddenly. “I can get something for you there so please make yourself at—.”

“Can I go with you?”

You didn’t answer for a moment prompting Cater to further explain with fidgeting fingers. “I was never allowed to roam outside of my room s-so I want to see the world, the Valley of Thorns! At least to an extent I can copy.” Cater holds up his sketchbook again, a warm yet sheepish smile on his lips.

Something within you popped like warm water against ice, fizzling through your body and without another word, you nodded your head at his request. “I’ll lend you my shoes, the dirt path is painful to walk on.”

You set some treats on the counter before you while Cater sat and watched the activity from a bench outside. “Oh, you’re usually alone when visiting. Who’s he?” Asked the shopkeeper, collecting the coins you set from your satchel.

"He's…Someone I've begun living with."

“Oho, I see. Well, you look like you’re in the age to begin that stage of life.”

“What, no. I—.”

Chatter echoed from beyond the glass door, a sizeable crowd gathering to Cater as he sketches the face of a woman before him. “No need to be shy about it, dear one.” He sets a few more bags of bread yet declines the offer for more coins.

“You have been a good customer since your arrival here and it doesn’t hurt to buy something extra. Besides, I’ve been wanting to try this combination out. Stewed meat in bread sounds pretty good, don’t you think?”

His smile wrinkled his face in glee against the sounds of amazement as he showed the portrait to her.

“I’ll be sure to let him taste it. Thank you very much, shopkeeper.”

“Anytime.” He winked, “You got yourself a keeper, there, dear one! Don’t let him run away.”

Shaking your head, you pushed the door open and see Cater smiling at the crowd with his sketchpad to his chest. You think back to when you first found him, how dreary he looked before he was brought to the valley.

He looked beautiful.

“Cater, let’s go.”

Emerald eyes look your way and his smile grew even larger as he got up from his seat. “Okay!” He bid farewell to his following, walking with you side by side.

“You leave the fire going through the night?” Cater asked, munching on some bread lined with melted goat’s cheese. “The valley gets cold so it’s best to keep warm as much as possible.” You add more wood to the fire and settle on the chair adjacent to it with Cater sitting across from you.

“The people here are very nice.” He said, setting down the bread on his lap. “A curious bunch, those lot.” You say while fishing out some foods from your satchel and stumbling upon the special wrapped bread handed to you by the shopkeeper. “It’s not every day they get to see someone new.”

“Is the valley that inaccessible?”

“For now, at least. His Majesty is looking for ways to open the kingdom by constructing roads leading out. Though it will take some time before it can be finished and used.” Taking it out of its packaging, you set the special bread on a heating pan above the fire carefully with a pair of long tongs.

“What’s that?” The doll asked, eyes twinkling in curiosity. “It smells good.”

“It’s a special bread from the shop. Give me a few minutes to properly warm it.”

He nods his head and waits patiently as you set the heated bread onto a plate and handing it to him. "I get to eat all of it?" He asked and you nodded your head still poised at looking into his green eyes that shined with life. "The shopkeeper wanted you to have it."

A moment of hesitance and Cater took a bite, what could only be described as pure happiness came rushing down his face in a flurry of pleased sounds as he began to eat more than his cheeks could hold. In your state of panic, you quickly got up from your seat and quick to run for a mug of water.

“Slowly now,” You say. “You’ll choke yourself if you eat so quickly.”

He drank his fill, cheek tinted red from choking and glee. Upon returning the mug, Cater wiped his lips that were swollen from the spice of the meat. "It's good." He says, holding the bread up to eat. "It's very good. Try it!"

The bread was shoved into your mouth, the spice of chili made your insides churn with burning flames. The diamond laughs at your reaction, his hair framing his face and the looming fire casting a glow of yellow as if under the light of a looming sunset.

“Do you ever explore the forest around your home?”

The fire was no longer lit and the two of you opted to spend the day out in an empty brush of grass where you continued to chop wood until your hands began to ache. "It's only when I look for herbs that I do." You reply, Cater's hand fiddling with a charcoal pencil and old-looking parchment.

It had only been a few days and this assignment was proving to be difficult for you to adjust to. Given Cater’s disposition to being isolated for long, he had the yearning to walk around and explore his new world while you would rather chop wood and wait for time to pass.

The both of you were total opposites.

“Oh,”

His eyes were downcast, pencil poking dots onto the paper absentmindedly. You look to your ax then to the large pile of wood you had created…Perhaps this will last you through a few nights. “There is one place I like to go to. It will take a few minutes to find.”

“What is it?”

You offer your hand for him to take, lifting him from his sitting position. “You will find out when we get there.” You say and with a few adjustments to your comfortable clothes, the both of you set off towards the forest clearing near your cottage. “Do we have to hold hands?” Cater asked and for a moment, your grip faltered almost to loosening.

“You’re not accustomed to the forest so I thought it was best to do so as a precaution.”

Cater smiles, intertwining his fingers with yours. “I’m teasing. It’s nice to hold hands.”

The silence lasts a few but long seconds and you keep going. Past a fork and through the logs, Cater’s hold on your hands never left nor did his presence disappear. A pang of indescribable warmth settles on your chest, you look to Cater again whose eyes look the canvas of green over with wonder.

“There aren’t many trees like this back there. You’ll only see a blanket of white. Does it snow here?”

“Only a few flakes if we’re lucky. The snow gathers more north of the valley.” The both of you ascend towards your destination, the ground acting like stairs. “Perhaps, when it’s possible to acquire a horse for personal use I can take you there.”

Cater’s hand tightens against your gloved ones.

“…I’d like that.”

With one last step, the warm winds of the valley blow against you as you approach a cliff bearing down the landscape of your home and Cater’s. When the wind had settled, you begin to speak. “I come here to get some peace and quiet whenever the town’s noise gets too much for me to handle.”

“It’s beautiful.”

You let Cater move on his own, taking a few steps to look at the sea of green and bright pastel before him. He turns to you, a blush of excitement on his face. “Can I draw this? “

“You don’t need to ask, just do whatever you like.”

Blades clashed, labored breathes, the smell of death lingers through the cold. Your armor feels heavy and your hands are worn. Your opponent attempts to swing at you yet your movements are precise, your blade quick and deadly as it pierced and plunged through the armor like melted butter.

Your body burned against the cold and frost did little to cool your warm and labored breathing. The horns of a distant song blast softly into your ears, the roar of a dragon whose flames green like envy never quelled against the permafrost.

Horses rounded the perimeter, the horns of a tall man come into view. Malleus’ glowing eyes looked to yours in a glance, his royal guards outnumber you easily and push you to your knees and arms spread out.

“Your majesty.” Said one of the guards, Silver hair peeking from his helmet. “Their hand…”’

The winds beyond the cliff became a comfortable breeze and the afternoon sun began its descent into the earth, the trees hiss like rain and branches groan softly. Cater’s sleeping form lay motionless next to you, his sketchbook set between you.

Curiosity peaked and you took it into your hands, flipping through sketch after sketch. From sketches of the townsfolk to the cliff beyond…

“Hm?”

But one stood out. A sketch of you, your face is worn and sweat dripping from your chin. Your body was hunched as if you had been delivered a blow from above yet it was the eyes that hit you the most. It held meaning, a sort of peace. ‘The King Knight’ it was titled.

“Do you like it? “

Cater pushed himself up, yawning and stretching his limbs. “You had a good pose while you were chopping wood so…”

“Is this how you see me, Cater? As kind?”

"Well, you rescued me, didn't you? I think that's enough to say that you are kind."

You give him back his sketchbook and stand up. You help Cater up, his leg going limp. “Ahaha…My leg fell asleep, how embarrassing.” Your actions were sudden, going to your knees for him to hop onto your back. “O-oh, um…I might be heavy.”

“I’ve carried many people while in full armor. It’s alright.”

And soon, the both of you descent the steps carefully with Cater resting on your back and arms wrapped around your neck. “I was just doing the right thing. Anyone would have helped you in that situation.”

“And many people opt not to. You’re kind, knight. You really are.”

The sun sets over the horizon, allowing the dark colors of the night to seep through on your way back to the cottage.

The horse-drawn carriage stopped within the lush greenery of the Vanrouge estate, Lilia smiling as you and Cater disembark with the help of the horseman.

“Welcome, both of you.”

“This place is huge!” the former doll exclaims, his voice echoing through the large hallway. “Is this the treatment of the King’s favorite?” He turns to you suddenly, wrapping his arm around your neck and your eyes go wide in embarrassment. “N-no, it’s just…”

Over the months since Cater came under your care, the two of you grew closer and closer each passing day. What was once a very shy and confused doll became lively and bright, like the sunset the both of you came to enjoy together by each other’s side.

He had become important to you, very important.

“My son used to be in the same class as them in the past, they have remained connected long after," Lilia explains, walking up to them while Cater greets with a curtsy.

You couldn't say much about your own growth but you were sure that Cater was adjusting greatly to life within the valley. Being able to see the sunsets with him after a day’s worth of shopping was enough for you.

You tug at your gloves out of habit.

"Your son?" Cater wondered Lilia's magenta eyes narrowed in the same teasing glance. “Oh, you think I’m not a father Mr. Diamond? I’m older than I look, you know.”

Cater shrinks back earning a biting laugh from him.

“I merely jest, dear one. Silver is not my son by blood, I found him as a babe a decade ago during my own excursion in the North.” The royal advisor opened the large mahogany door with ease as if it were made of clay. “He’s been living with me ever since.”

“…Was he a doll too?”

Lilia was silent at that moment, stopping just short of where his son was sleeping comfortably on a chair that sat before an intricate-looking coffee table. Cater gulped, opening his mouth to apologize only for Lilia to chuckle with eyes distant in remembrance.

“From the Goshenite family. Not that it matters now, though. Silver is my own and he always will be.”

The small man walks over to his son, shaking him awake sleeping spell. A discolored mark shows itself against Silver’s neck, the birthmark of a doll. Silver stutters awake, looking at Lilia who smiles at him from above.

Cater touched his cheek, feeling for the mark against his fingers. “Goshenite…How come I’ve never seen him.”

“Some dolls were not kept in castles but put in battlefields.” You explain while Silver slowly stood up, rubbing his eyes while Lilia holds his arm to steady him. “Silver was rescued before he was put out but they couldn’t easily break what he had already learned.”

Cater watches Silver smile, the warm morning sunlight highlighting his features almost making him and his birthmark glow.

“So he was made a guard here, in the estate? In hopes that it would break the teachings.”

Father and son hold hands, Silver’s eyes rising upon seeing you. A friend he came to cherish. You tug your gloves before Silver embraces you.

The picnic by the pond was both boring and contently, you and Silver staying behind on the mat while Lilia and Silver had their fun by the water. “He seems to be having fun.” Said the former doll, his eyes slowly blinking. In your hand was a sweet drink, the citrusy aftertaste bringing a sigh of relief to your warm body.

“He is.”

The long hours spent at your leisure was something you had to slowly get used to, from going shopping with Cater to enjoying the sunsets with him just outside your small cottage. You hear Cater laugh when Lilia splashed some water at his son, soaking his hair into a messy mop. “What about you?”

Tugging your gloves, you look to the horizon of lush green fields tended by Lilia’s help. “I can’t say much. It has been a time since I’ve held a shield, much less a sword. To just hold a drink like this feels so different to me but…It feels good to just sit down, I think.”

Cater huffs a small laugh, leaning onto your shoulder. “You’re so talkative now.” A hand is brought to his hair, his form melting to yours when you massaged his scalp. “I always talk to you.”

“But this is different.”

You hear a scream of thrill on the horizon, Lilia had been pulled to the ground soaked with water. The worrying attendants ready with towels but hesitant to approach in fear Lilia would pull them in as well.

Slowly, your hands intertwine with his as he rests against your shoulder, comfortable to take a nap. The sun’s afternoon rays make Cater shine, his emerald eyes shine brilliantly as he looks to you hiding beneath the shade, his birthmark a stark red against his cheek. He was beautiful. A pang of heat burned in your chest, a heat you could not describe.

While Lilia and Silver changed out of their wet attire and Silver had collapsed back into the couch because of his sleeping spell, you stood by the door of the estate and watched the sun turn orange as it descended the sky.

“There you are, and here I thought you left without saying goodbye.”

Lilia joined you in your leisure gazing towards the sky, from within his oversized coat he pulled out a pack of cigars, offering you one until you refuse. “Cater never leaves your side at all, does he?”

You tug at your gloves again. "Cater enjoys being outside so having him visit this place is a treat for him. He enjoys you and Silver’s company, even if he doesn’t show it.”

“I don’t doubt his sincerity, Cater is lively and a treat to be around. It’s a vast difference from when we first met all those months ago.” The cigar is lit and the general takes a whiff, letting smoke puff from his mouth. He offers you one which you decline politely.

"I will be honest with you, dear one, I did not expect you to accept Malleus' assignment." The cigar hung off his fingers, the ash falling to the ground little by little. "Then again, I never thought I'd be taking care of a child with all that I've done."

You tug at your gloves just as he takes another whiff. “Dear one, does Cater know?”

“No.”

“Will you tell him?” Your gloves cut into the skin between your fingers in one sharp pull.

“…He doesn’t need to know.”

Through his nose, Lilia sighed the smoke out. “Then perhaps I should do that same. It took a long time for Silver to finally calm down, I do not want to see him suffer.” The sunset shines a bright orange over the horizon and you knew well that Cater would be watching.

Lilia’s damp hair rustled when the wind picked up, his nose taking in the fresh breeze. Magenta eyes look down to the ground. “I cannot help but think I have awoken a flame that will continue to burn me for as long as I live.”

He smiles at you suddenly, broken and vulnerable. “Perhaps the permafrost had numbed you from your burns, dear one.”

“I’m not burning.”

Lilia continued to smile, taking a swig of a cigar and enjoying the sunset in silence by your side.

The fire crackled yet you couldn't sleep, the wind had ceased and the bitter winter turned into a breeze of the evening air. Cater slept peacefully across you, his hair pushed behind his ear carefully by your fingers; leather against soft skin. You stare at his birthmark for a moment, noticing how pale it had become since his arrival.

“Perhaps the permafrost had numbed you from your own flames, dear one.”

You sit back, allowing yourself warmth against the fire next to you. It had only been months since you took up the assignment given to you personally by the king, yet you felt as if you lived your whole life with Cater. It was peaceful, so different from the day you met.

You remember the path you took and the fights that needed to be fought to achieve your mission. You remember the soldiers who blocked your path, the birthmarks on their skin.

White iridescent, Opal.

Cloudy green, Jade.

Dull and vibrant browns and black, Rutile.

You remember a young soldier, their movements sloppy and readable. Their breath labored and hold soft, it was an easy battle.

“Padparadscha…”

They whispered before crumpling to the ground, their wounds far too great to be healed or ignored. Their helmet loosened, a round blue birthmark on the back of their neck. Sapphire.

“Padparadscha…!” A hand holds your ankle, a bloody hand reaching out to you.

How long had it been since you were called that?

Your moment of hesitance was cut by another sword that put the poor soldier out of their misery. Sebek looked to you, taking your hand. “We have a mission to finish. We can’t stop here.” And you were pulled away quickly.

The fire crackled next to you, the flames licking at your skin. You wonder if that doll had a family waiting for them to come home, you wondered if all of them did…Even Cater. Even dolls had people to return to, had people they cherished. Had promises, had love, maybe even a twisted sense of happiness…

And you destroyed that; a pain hit you from the bottom up threatening to release itself from your throat. You discard your gloves into the fire, the marks against worn hands popping out the more you look.

Cater's murmurs rang through you, his hand reaches over for yours. He was gentle with you no matter what. He brings your hand closer to his face, the presence of you close brought him peace. The heat from below began to bubble again, molten against your skin.

With all you’ve done, with all you’ve killed…Why did he choose to stay with you?

“I’m burning.” You lean close to Cater, throat hoarse from silenced sobs. “I’m burning.”

Cater once thought he could never sleep an entire night through, not with the sounds his ears could hear nor the silhouettes those perceptive eyes of his picked up in the night. He never thought he could walk around his room nor see beyond the high window that only brought in rain or frost.

He never thought he would see the world before him with someone by his side. From the rise in the east and its fall in the west. He spent every peaceful second with you, and he enjoyed it. He loved it. He loved…You.

“Where are you?”

Getting off his resting place, Cater opened the door to an empty space, and with feet tickled by grass he ran; ran through the forest with wind wild against his hair. The frost wasn’t there to mist against his mouth nor was the snow a detractor for his speed.

The trees filed past like green walls and the sun peaked through the cracks, acting as a compass. You were his freedom, his life.

He loved you.

“Where are you?”

In a flurry of leaves and wind, Cater’s breath stilled at the vast stretch of land that bore green and brown. The valley of thorns’ domain was a nest of life, a warmth from the cold. The wind picks up, the flurry of birds rising higher with the wind current.

“Cater?”

In the flurry of feathers, Cater’s green eyes stared into yours, swollen and red. He bound towards you, pulling you into an embrace and sighing into your shoulder; your hands come up around his waist returning the embrace. “What are you doing out here? It’s too early.”

“You weren’t in the cottage.”

“You could have waited.”

He tightened his hug, burying his head into your neck while rubbing smooth circles around his back. The wind blew wildly at your faces. "Why did you choose me, Cater? Of all the places to choose as your home.”

“You’re kind.”

“I’m not.”

“You are!”

“Cater,”

“Stop lying to yourself.” He begged. “If you weren’t kind, you wouldn’t have helped me.”

You sigh, pulling away. “Do you really think a person like me can be kind after what I’ve done?” You raise your hands, your birthmark a bright red against your skin; like a bloodstain that will never go away. "I am a doll of the battlefield, Cater. I was born to do it. I am a doll born to take lives, I am Padparadscha.”

“I don’t care!” He leans his weight on you, your back thumping against a tree trunk. “I don’t care what jewel you are, you’re my home!!”

He pushes you again, thumping the wood “I don’t care what you did before, you were forced to do it, you didn’t like any of it and shows!”

“You’re not a doll anymore, you’re human, you’re my home.”

Fingers loosely pull your clothes, Cater’s nose on your shoulder with breath shaky. “…I know it is because when I look at you, I can feel. It—.” He wraps his arms around your waist, pulling you in. “And—and when I look at you, I’m home.”

“Please, I don’t want that to go away Padparadscha.”

Your hands move again, raising to card through Cater's amber hair. "…Would you like to stay here a while longer and watch the sunset?"

Cater nods his head, the both of you sliding down and let time do its course, the sun slowly inching down towards the earth with the sky bleeding yellow and purple. His thumb brushes over your birthmark and your fingers intertwine.

“Cater?”

“Yes.”

“Thank you.”

He nuzzled into you, his beautiful features highlighted against the sun. No matter where he was, his beauty resonated with you. The beautiful man leaned in, lips brushing to yours in a kiss. 

“Thank you.”

[jaceyneedsabetterusername]

Insecurities

Pairing: Sokka x Gender Neutral! Reader 

Warnings: None

Summary: Being a non-bender in the gaang isn’t always easy but your best friend Sokka always has ways of cheering you up. 

Word Count: 2017

A/N: This is my first A:TLA fic! I hope Sokka isn’t OOC but please let me know if he is so I can write him better in the future! 

__________________________________

No matter much you insisted to yourself and everyone around you that being a non-bender didn't bother you, it was a bold faced lie. You hated it. 

Back home, it hadn't been an issue. In the little earth kingdom village you hailed from, bending was forbidden because the fire nation had soldiers there that would imprison any earth benders. Even those who had the gift didn't tell anyone so you never felt different or less than. 

But now that you were with Team Avatar, as Sokka liked to call it, there were constant reminders about your lack of powers.

You sat on a rock on the bank of the river you'd all camped next to, staring at the point where the string of your fishing pole entered the water. It was your job to provide food tonight and after much begging from Sokka for “real food”, as he called it, you found yourself trying to fish instead of forage. The sun was beginning to set, still in the pale blue stage of descent. In a little creek that split off, Katara moved smoothly, guiding water into the air with ease as she practiced a new move she'd been working on. 

Toph was just lying against a rock pillow that she'd willed up into just the right, perfectly comfortable (for a rock) form, shade being cast down on her from another sheet of rock she'd bent into a half tent form. Having secretly been a standing champion in an earth bending fighting ring, beating full grown men five times her size at the age of twelve, she seldom felt the need to practice. 

Zuko was being Zuko. He stood off away from everyone in a clearing of dirt at the edge of the woods, practicing perfectly posed movements as he tried to force more and more power into the fire leaving his palms. 

It wasn't until Aang swooshed past you on a ball of air, sending your hair and the fabric of your clothing blowing in the wake of his pure youthful laughter, that the weight of your insecurities really hit you. 

You sighed, setting your makeshift fishing rod down and wedging it between two rocks. You scrunched your knees up and rested your chin on them, imagining what your life would be like if you had been born with such power. "Hey, you okay?" Sokka appeared from seemingly nowhere, coming up from behind to sit beside you. 

You perked up and tried to shake off the painful thoughts and shrugged, "Yeah, I'm good." You lied with a smile. 

"Please tell me you caught something. I am dying for some meat. We've been eating nothing but berries for days and I think I might die." Sokka begged, plucking at the string coming from the rod. 

You smacked his hand away and reprimanded him, "You're gonna scare the fish, idiot!" 

Yours and Sokka's relationship had always been full of sarcasm and insults but always from a place of love.  As the only non-benders, you often found yourselves paired up for everything which gave you a lot of time to develop a pretty solid friendship. But your idiot, meat obsessed best friend should have known better than to disrupt your fishing. 

Sokka put his hands up in defense, "I'm sorry! I'm just hungry, okay?!" He whined, plopping his face into his hands in 

As he sulked about the hunger you all shared, you looked over, your attention drawn by Zuko's groan of frustration. A tree he was facing was slightly charred but it was clear that he had intended to cause much more damage. He was distracted and frustrated but those seemed to be fairly frequent emotions for him.

Sokka noticed the unusual silence between the two of you and glanced over, chin still on his palm, and noticed you looking sadly at Zuko. He knew very well though that the look wasn't longing for Zuko himself but rather his powers. It was a feeling Sokka was well familiar with himself, "I know how you feel." He began simply, knowing you were reading each other's minds. 

You knew exactly what he meant. It was an unspoken bond of frustration that was only ever brought up verbally when someone underestimated your competence as fighters but it was there. "Do you ever wish you could bend?" You asked, looking over at him.

Sokka leaned back, his usual air of casual cockiness fading into a more sincere version of himself that didn’t shine through as often, "Not so much anymore. I mean, when we were younger, Katara was the only bender in our village so I guess I was jealous that she had this amazing power and I didn't. But I think now I've come to accept my place in the group. Katara and you are the brains. Zuko, Toph, and Aang are the brawn. And I'm the beauty." He put his hand under his chin like a child trying to pose cutely and he pulled his "cutest" face (although you weren't sure if that's what you'd call it - more like cheesy).

You chuckled a little bit, your tone becoming a slightly lighter, "Well, if you could bend, what kind of bender would want to be?" 

Sokka chewed his lip and thought for a moment, "I think I'd stick with my roots and be a water bender. What about you?" 

Your brows furrowed, "I don't know… I mean I know I'm from the earth kingdom so I should say earth bender but I just… I don't know! My whole life would just be rocks. I mean, don't get me wrong, the powers are amazing and definitely one of the most powerful as far as I'm concerned but it's just rocks. Everything is rock." 

"I know exactly how that feels! My whole life has been ice! Everything is freaking ice! I lived in an igloo made of ice!" Sokka spoke animatedly, flailing his arms around to further his point. 

Normally, you might have giggled or rolled your eyes at his dramaticness but instead you became more enthusiastic about your words as well. "Exactly! I mean I lived in a wooden hut but we used to take trips to Omashu and everything is just rock! At least the air kingdom and fire kingdom don't just have air and fire for everything." 

"You know what?" Sokka asked, putting his hand on your shoulder, "They may have superpowers but you know what they don't have?" 

You raised your eyebrows, waiting for him to continue his sentiment. "A kick ass boomerang or a freaking awesome bow staff!" He finished, whipping out his boomerang and using it to point to your bow staff that was leaned against the rocks beside you, your main weapon of choice. 

"Aang kind of has a staff." You interjected, rolling your eyes to look over at your friend. 

"No, Aang has a magical flying stick." Sokka was clearly unamused by your attempt to fault his logic, “Just accept the fact that you’re cool too!” 

His compliments made your cheeks turn red and you laughed, “Yeah, I s’pose you’re right. I am pretty awesome.” 

Sokka’s arms went out in triumph when you finally admitted your true value, “Exactly! Besides, we’re better at hand to hand combat than them too.” 

Your head wavered side to side as an expression of unsureness swept over your face, “Eh, I don’t know about that. Have you seen Zuko with his swords?” 

“Shut up!” He whined, exasperated, “If you’re going to keep being like this, I’m going to stop trying to make you feel important.”

Your mouth fell open a little bit at his last comment, “Are you saying I’m not important?!” Obviously, you knew that wasn’t what he meant. He’d been your best friend since you joined the group so you knew that Sokka valued you just as much as you did him. But still, as such an easy target, he was so much fun to pick on sometimes. 

Your best friend quickly backtracked, “Not that you’re not important! Just- agh! You know what I mean!” His face fell dramatically and his arms dropped to his side, finally stilling from their usual expressive flailing. 

You reached over and grabbed his arm in reassurance, laughing at his flusteredness, “I know what you mean, Sokka! I’m just kidding Gosh, you’re so easy to pick on.” Sokka groaned as you pulled him in close, giving him a side hug. “Thank you for trying to help me feel better. I know that we’re a vital part of the team and that we have specialties that others don’t. I just can’t help but feel insecure sometimes when everyone else can bend the elements to their will and we can’t.” 

Sokka leaned into your touch, awkwardly side hugging you back while you held onto his arm, “Yeah, I know. Me too sometimes. But then I just remember how awesome I am and then I feel better. You should try it sometime” He let you go and pulled his boomerang out from behind him, inspecting the sharp blade with a cocky smirk you knew was just there to mask his insecurities. 

“Maybe I should.” You pondered his words as you leaned back against the rock you’d used as a back rest while you fished and looked out at the setting sun’s reflection on the water. Mentally, you took notes of all the things you were good at. Sure, Katara could move water, Toph could fling rocks, Zuko could conjure fire, and Aang… well Aang was the avatar. But you were a master fighter, capable of taking down ten men with your bowstaff alone. Not only that but you were highly skilled in hand to hand combat. Since your father had been a high commanding officer in the vigilante brigade in your village against the fire nation before he was arrested, he’d instilled a lot of knowledge crucial to survival, on and off the battlefield. Things like scavenging and foraging, making shelter and weapons from next to nothing, battle strategy, natural healing remedies, and keeping a good head in combat were all things that came naturally to you. The bender’s didn’t have that. 

Yes, they were amazingly gifted and talented people but they relied on their abilities for all things. You were able to do almost just as much, if not more, without the powers. Sokka was right: you two were total badasses. 

When you looked back at him, he was sharpening his blade on the rocks and then held it up to the light to inspect it, repeating the process a few times. An idea popped into your head and you looked over at him coyly, “Y’know, Sokka, we are total non-bending badasses. But we don’t know who’s the best non-bending badass.” 

Sokka side eyed you suspiciously, “Is that a challenge?” 

You sighed and leaned back, stretching your body out to show how little you were afraid of him, “Yeah, I think it is. Unless, you’re scared you’ll lose.” You taunted, knowing the rise you were getting out of your best friend. 

Sokka was well aware of what you were doing but he couldn’t resist the temptation of a little friendly battle. “I’m not scared!” His voice cracked, making his comment harder to take seriously, “Just be warned. There’s only gonna be two hits. Me hitting you and you hitting the ground.” He stood up, cracking his knuckles and back as he spoke. 

“Oh, is that so? Why don’t you put your money where your mouth is Water Boy?” You stood up too, grabbing your bowstaff and stamping it firmly onto the earth beside you. 

He grabbed his boomerang and gripped it tightly. He stepped closer, his nose almost touching yours as he locked you into a glare-off, a twinkle of friendly competition in his vibrant blue eyes. You knew that friendly competition was sure to come with a “friendly” amount of scuffs and bruises to both the loser and the victor, though you were positive you’d be the latter of those two. 

Sokka nearly growled as he spoke, raising his eyebrow in challenge, “It’s on.” 

[legendaryjohnmarston]

Coming Home

Summary: Being a hero was awesome. Henry would know. Every kid's dream, right?

At some point it had been Henry's. And between the flashy costumes, the feeling of doing something good, and just the hero life in general was enough to make him gloss over the never-ending bruises and occasional nightmares he still got after all these years.

Being a hero was awesome...until it really wasn't. Until nights like these.

Word Count: 2,880

Fandom: Zenyverse

Warnings: Minor character death, mild mentions of blood. If there are any other warnings someone would like me to put please feel free to tell me!

A/N: I wrote this mostly just for myself and @zackmartin (I'm just a dumbass who forgot about it lmfao) but I'm just gonna put this here. I'd like to point out that I've never watched on ep of Suite Life so I have no idea if Zack is ooc or not ehfhfhd. I'm also gonna reread this and edit it later. Henry does not have a good time basically, but the ending is happy.

Being a hero was awesome. Henry would know. Every kid's dream, right?

At some point it had been Henry's. And between the flashy costumes, the feeling of doing something good, and just the hero life in general was enough to make him gloss over the never-ending bruises and occasional nightmares he still got after all these years.

Being a hero was awesome...until it really wasn't. Until nights like these.

Living nightmares. The worst ones, because he couldn't wake up with the knowledge that it wasn't real.

It was only a small fire. It shouldn't have been a problem. He helped the fire fighters get the small family out of the building, was about to call it a night when he heard the worst thing a hero - a parent - could ever hear.

"My baby's still in there!"

Henry didn't hesitate or wait for any more words before he was bolting to the only window he could manage to enter into and threw himself in, landing in a heap, surrounded by a ring of fire and smoke.

He hated burning buildings, but he didn't waste any time searching the rooms, keeping his body as low as he could. The smoke tried to claw his way down his throat and his eyes stung viciously but he hurried on, knowing that the more time he was in here, the less time there was to get out.

He was three rooms in when he heard the most hair-raising screech he'd ever heard pierce his ears. Upstairs, from the sound of it. Henry took off running to the stairs, bounding up them as carefully as he could in his haste, the wood groaning around his weight as he weaved his way through the endless debris as the flames burned his skin raw.

A piece of metal, from what looked like it was once a part of the railing, caught his leg halfway up. Henry cursed, feeling his hands to the new wound. His hands came away covered in fresh red, but he bit his lip as he attempted to climb the rest of the way up. His head was getting too wozy, and he had to swallow multiple coughs as he made it to the second floor. There wasn't any time to focus on his leg; not that it was his biggest concern at the moment anyways.

The door to the room he assumed the scream was from was on fire. Henry swore that the soles of his boots started to melt when he kicked it in, embers clouding his vision as it collapsed. At this point the pain in his leg and the smoke was enough to bring tears in his eyes, only from them to be burned away from the heat as he whipped his head around desperately for a sign, any sign.

On the bed was a small lump, and Henry rushed over as soon as he spotted it, praying that it was the child. With shaking hands he shook it, relief washing over him when a head of soft, curly hair moved to his position. The child looked up with him with their eyes half closed, and they gave a loud, wheezing cough. Henry swallowed harshly, grabbing a nearby blanket - one not covered by ash or currently on fire and tucked them into it - cradling them to his chest.

"You'll be ok," he tried to assure, hoping they couldn't hear his voice crack. The child coughed weakly in his arms.

Henry smiled softly at them before placing the blanket over the child's face, loosely enough so they could still breathe but still a cover to attempt to protect them from the flames. With a deep breath and roll of his shoulders he took off towards the stairs, gasping in as much stale air as he could while his chest heaved with the need to cough, heading towards the window he entered from.

The child was still coughing slightly when Henry jumped out the window, glass shattering from where his foot hit some of the remains, landing harshly on his shoulder as he tried to roll. The cool air was an instant relief, and after sitting in the grass, his body still aching and burning while he gulped down clean air like he was drowning, he finally looked down to the bundle in his arms.

"Hey, you're ok now-" he rasped as he moved the blanket from the child's face.

It was alright. They had made it-

His breath caught in his throat, grip tightening around the child as he looked in horror.

No...I was- they were fine- too late?

Henry wondered distantly if the child in his arms had dreamed of being a hero one day.

They would never get that chance.

He felt....numb. Looking down he could barely feel anything. It was like his body wasn't his own and he was watching from a distorted camera.

Then he heard the screams.

It was the wails of someone who had lost the brightest thing in their lives.

"My baby!" A woman cried, the man beside her covering his mouth with wide, horrified eyes.

They were the screams of parents, and it was exactly what shook Henry out of his shock.

He stood up on shaky legs, stumbling as he tried to meet them halfway. He tried to blink away the burning in his eyes as he handed them their child.

"I'm sorry, I'm so sorry," he gasped, but it only made them cry harder.

"No, no," the father kept repeating, hugging the child to his chest as the mother clung desperately to his shirt. "No, no, please."

It wasn't the fire itself, the emergency responders told him afterwards. Smoke inhalation. He had done the best that he could do.

His best wasn't good enough.

Henry wanted nothing more than to curl into a ball and cover his ears, but he managed to limp away, his leg throbbing as he let his feet carry him on auto pilot. Back home, where his husband and kids were waiting for him.

The trek back was hazy, barely a memory in his mind as he popped a gum into his mouth and changed back into his clean clothes as he quietly slipped through the door. He heard footsteps from the kitchen - Zack's, coming closer - and the exhaustion slammed into him like a truck at the same time his breathing picked up. He just wanted to wrap his arms around his family, take a shower, and maybe sleep for a week.

But every time he closed his eyes he could see the blood covering his gloves, felt the heat lick at his face, could still hear the poor child's scream-

Henry couldn't hold back the sob that finally escaped his throat, tangling his trembling fingers into his hair as he cried.

"Henry?"

Even after all these years, he couldn't save everyone. After all these years, it still never got any easier.

"Hen?"

What if that child had been Izzy? Or Felix? What if one day Henry couldn't protect them? What if Henry woke up one day and found Zack-

He scrubbed his face with his shaky hands, squeezing his eyes shut as he desperately wished for this nightmare to end. 

"Hey- Henry, hey, look at me." Zack was in front of him, reaching out towards him cautiously.

Henry shook his head, tears trickling down his cheeks, "I can't- Zack, I can't."

Zack pursued his lips together, an uneasy look flashing across his face. A wave of guilt washed over him, and he stuttered out broken apologies between his gasps for air.

"It's ok, Hen, you're ok," Zack tried to sooth, but his skin felt like it was burned when he tried to touch his arm. Henry jerked back, shaking his head and trying to explain why but no words came out and Zack looked so scared and hurt because of him, and the child was still screaming screaming screaming-

"Dad?" Izzy's voice called behind him. Henry inhaled sharply, wiping his face and turning to see both Izzy and Felix in their pajamas at the bottom of the stairs. He swallowed roughly as he made his way over to her, watching as her reaction shifted from confusion to alarm. Felix stood behind her, eyes flickering between him and Zack.

He kneeled in front of them, wincing as his knees protested painfully. Felix made a small noise, and Henry gently pulled them into a hug. Two pairs of arms immediately returned it, and Henry squeezed them tightly to his chest, wanting nothing more than to be able to keep them there forever.

They pulled back slightly after a moment, but Henry kept his arms around them for a little while longer, opening his mouth to say something only to close it again. There were too many words he wanted to say but each one died on his lips before they could even be born.

"Dad?" Izzy tried again, voice shaky. It finally snapped something in him, and he gave her the best smile he could muster, tucking a loose strand of hair behind her ear.

"I'd do anything for you two. I'll always try my best to protect you two, you know that, right?"

They both nodded. Felix's eyes were wide with unshed tears, and Izzy was worrying her lip between her front teeth. Henry hated that he caused this, but the child was still there, in his mind, and their parents' cries still ringing through his ears, and he was choking back tears as he pressed a kiss to each of the foreheads. He convinced himself to stand up, letting go of his kids as he turned and headed towards the door.

"Hen?"

Zack's voice rang out, and Henry paused, the invisible hand around his throat getting tighter.

"Come back to me," Zack whispered to him, barely audible from across the room, and Henry turned to give him a small smile.

"Always."

Then he was gone, with nothing but the sweater he was wearing earlier and an echo of the child's screams following his footsteps like a lost puppy.

~~~

It was three in the morning when he finally caved from roaming the streets to booking a hotel room for the night.

His phone hadn't stopped buzzing in his pocket all night until it finally died and remained silent. He would've charged it, but he didn't think of bringing a charger, and he didn't want to trek back out to buy one.

Luckily, there was an old wired phone on the dresser next to the bed. Henry took off his shoes and buried himself under the bed covers, flailing around for the phone without looking.

He didn't know what Charlotte and Jasper were up to, so he called the next person that came to his mind. It rang once, twice, then finally there was a clicking noise halfway through the third.

"Hello?" Came Ray's groggy voice, and Henry let out a breath he didn't know he was holding.

"Ray." He whispered, voice raw. "Ray, I'm sorry, I just…"

Ray sighed as a shuffling noise echoed in the background. "Rough night?"

"Yeah."

Ray hummed, "I'll leave you on the phone. Get some sleep, I'll be here if you need me."

"Thanks," he mumbled, listening to the hum on the other side. It was somewhat comforting to listen to the various noises from Ray's side of the phone as he closed his eyes, allowing it to drown out everything else. It wasn't the first time a sudden 3am call to Ray had been made on a rough night, but it had been a while.

It was soothing in a way he couldn't explain, having someone who understood on a deeper level what he was going through. The lack of warmth next to him was unusual, but Henry was still able to slowly drift into a light slumber.

And it was the dial tone that he woke up to, the early rays of light peeking through the blinds. Henry groaned, the empty spot next to him snapping him back to reality far too quickly for his liking. It left his stomach tied in vicious knots.

Hanging the phone back up, fairly sure that Ray had probably sent him a text he would be unable to see at the moment, Henry sat up in the bed, allowing the rough covers to slide off his body as he swung his legs over the side of the bed.

He didn’t have much of a plan. It was Friday, so it was likely Izzy and Felix would already be at school, unless Zack didn’t send them today. And he really wanted to go home, but it still felt too overwhelming for now.

Breakfast was off the table, too. He didn't think he'd be able to hold anything down at the moment.

So he kind of just...stopped. Only got out of bed when he needed to use the bathroom and had the TV running as background noise as he tried to process what happened. Around noon he made a quick stop to the convenience store next to the hotel to pick up a charger and sandwich.

He was right. Ray had texted him this morning, saying he had to go. Charlotte and Jasper had texted their group chat earlier last night, Zack had also texted him, saying to come home when he was ready, and he had at least two dozen messages from Piper. The thought made him chuckle slightly. It really was hard to tell who was the oldest between them sometimes, even now. He sent quick texts to let them know he was ok before turning his phone off, rubbing his hands down his face as he sighed, the sandwich on the bedside dresser untouched.

He knew what he was doing wasn't healthy. Not in the slightest. He was running, trying to avoid what had happened even when the memory of last night still was burned into his head. He knew what had happened, but he knew that in order to fully process and come to terms with it he needed to talk about it.

Knowing this, Henry waited until the thought of going home didn't make his stomach twist, later into the evening, then quickly checked out of his room and started heading back. The memories of the night before still put too much weight on his shoulders, but it lessened enough for him to be calm enough to talk about it.

The child still followed him home, but it was quite over the loudest thought in his head at the moment - his family.

~~~

When Henry finally made it to their house, the kitchen light was the only one on. He shuffled around a bit in the driveway, resolving that the sooner he got this over with, the better. He needed to apologize for running out and scaring the three of them like that, and there was no way he could do that if he didn't get inside. Clearing his throat he slipped through the door as quietly as possible, kicking his shoes off as he listened for any changes or movement. Hearing none he continued in, stopping before he entered the kitchen. Zack was looking out the window from across the room, his back towards him.

Henry cracked a slight smile. Even when he couldn't see his face he knew he was the prettiest person he'd ever seen.

"Hey." He greeted quietly, wincing at how rough his voice still sounded.

Zack jumped, spinning around with a relieved smile on his face, "Hey yourself."

Henry ducked his head slightly, awkwardly standing in the doorway. Zack was watching him carefully, but when he opened his arms Henry wasted no time in bounding over, the warmth from the embrace a warm relief from the cold haunting of the last day.

"You wanna talk about it?"

"Not really. Just...A really bad night. I'm sorry."

Zack hummed, moving from his back to comb his hands through Henry's messy hair. "Don't be. I saw some of what happened. On the news."

"...Oh."

"Yeah. I'm sorry you…" Zack cut himself off, shaking his head with a sigh. Henry's heart tightened.

"It's ok."

"It's not. What you have to deal with, what you see…"

"I manage."

"Do you?"

Henry could only shrug, burying his face in Zack's shoulder. He breathed in deeply, forcing his shoulders to relax as Zack's grip on him tightened.

"Izzy and Felix are at Piper's." Zack whispered. "She offered to watch them for the night."

"Does she know?"

"Yeah. She wanted to know where you were at, so I had to tell her."

"Guess that explains why my phone was blowing up last night," he chuckled quietly, bringing his hands up to Zack's shoulders.

"It's only because she worries."

"I know."

They both lulled into a comfortable silence. He didn't know who started it, but Henry realized that at some point they had both started swaying to the soft music that came from the old, beaten radio on the counter.

"I'm glad you're ok," Zack breathed, pressing a small kiss to his nose. Henry sighed as he knocked their foreheads together. "I'm glad you came back."

He wasn't fully ok yet. But he would be.

"I promised I'd come back to you. Always."

[moons0uled]

while i’m here...  please do plot with me because i miss writing hyunji.  LMS FOR PLOTS? 

[theirvictory-moved]

victoire is a squib.  i’m taking out any stuff in her bio that says otherwise because i’m retconning that fully.  she’s a squib and the only magic she has is her magic on ice and the veela charm.  that is all thank you for coming to my ted talk 

[youngbloodtma-blog]

time for me to add my new muses.  aka my girl group muses.