#a KING himself had to ask Howl to come there and explain what to hell is happening there

[nadiajustbe]

Once Morgan was at Megan's house and got a chance to use one of those old telephones on which you have to turn a circle with numbers.

Ingary has never seen peace since then.

Mostly because he went to every single stranger he could meet on the street and kept asking wether he could "call them". When they tried to call him by his name or said that they didn't have a clue about what he meant, the little one got really frustrated, pretty much ready to cry.

[blues824]

Hello may I request twisted wonderland 1st years reacting to ciel! g/n reader calling Sebastian to fight overblots?

Yes you can! Btw, Ciel is 13 I believe, so reader will be 13 and all of this will be platonic.

Ace Trappola

You were always very rude to him, especially when he ran his mouth longer than he should have. Plus, you never covered for him. How could you have this much audacity? To be fair, you were 13. Ouch, you just slapped him for making that comment.

You eventually get closer through the unbirthday parties and bond over some tea. He always pours it for you and makes sure you get some sweets. However, he likes to act as your older brother and doesn’t allow you to have too many sweets. You act like you’re constantly annoyed by him, but you actually are fond of the idea of having a ‘normal’ sibling for once.

When Riddle overblots, his first instinct is to protect you. You, however, had a smirk on your face. It made Ace think that you had seen this coming and were prepared for it. You whispered, “Sebastian, I am here.” The first year was about to ask what you said when a demon appeared out of nowhere and started fighting Riddle.

You sat on a chair, crossing one leg over the other while propping your head up with your arm on the chair’s arm. You had a devious smile on your face, and in the matter of a few seconds the demon was right by your side again and Riddle was on the ground. Ace, trembling, asked the question, “who are you and how did you do that?” to the demon.

You and the demon had similar expressions. He responded with, “I am the butler of the Phantomhive household. These types of things are within my repertoire. I am one hell of a butler after all.” Welp, Ace is now out cold on the ground. Congratulations.

Deuce Spade

Mans would probably ask you for help on his homework. You’ve been in Twisted Wonderland for a very short time and you still knew more about the material than he did. He was struggling for real. You didn’t have a problem with it, as long as he didn’t belittle you for being so young like Tweedle-Dumb (Ace) did often.

You actually become close very quickly. Again, he acts as a very protective older brother. He will make sure that you know your way around, that you have an inhaler on your person, and that you always have your cane to help you around. If anyone makes fun of you for it, he will gladly give them a knuckle sandwich.

When Riddle overblots, he goes to pull you behind him. What he doesn’t notice is that you go back even further, grab a chair, and sit down gracefully as you watch the chaos unfold. If Deuce had looked back, he would have been reminded of a king on his throne by the way you were sitting.

You had a confident smirk as you whispered Sebastian’s name. Said demon emerged out of thin air and greeted you calmly. The entire battle was paused out of pure shock. After serving you a cup of tea, your butler grabbed a few silver utensils off the tables and threw them at the overblotted victim.

Within a few seconds, Riddle was defeated. Sebastian had to introduce himself to everyone, and Deuce was just shocked. Since when have you made a deal with a demon?? You explained that you had made a deal with your current butler so that he would help you find whoever killed your parents in exchange for your soul. A 13 year old had to go through so much? 

Jack Howl

You both didn’t get to really know each other until you figured out that Leona and Ruggie were the ones sabotaging the other teams and getting their star players injured. You brought your suspicions to Jack, and he confirmed them.

Alongside each other, you both worked to spoil the lion and hyena’s plans. However, everything went downhill. Diasomnia was in the lead by a multitude of points, and Savanaclaw was in second place. That pissed Leona off, to say the least.

When Leona overblots, Jack’s first response is to jump in front of you since you had no magic. However, you shook your head in pure amusement and whispered something to yourself. He was about to ask you to repeat yourself when he saw a silhouette in the sky, going straight for his Housewarden.

Once the lion was defeated, Sebastian (the silhouette) introduced himself properly after making a small scene about forgetting his manners. The expression on your face made it seem like this was normal to you, and that was very concerning to Jack. This guy even smelled shady, but you made a deal with him anyway?

From then on, the three of you got closer as a ‘friend’ group. You didn’t really put a label on your unexpected friendship, you were more acquaintances that would call upon each other for help. Plus, you both are the only ones at NRC with common sense, so have fun!

Epel Felmier

You didn’t get the chance to become close, but you both related to each other. You both were constantly called ‘adorable’ and it pissed the both of you off. However, you had a more sophisticated approach, while Epel always solved the problem with his fists.

You are invited to Pomefiore from time to time, so that is how you grew closer to Epel. You were a positive influence on him, deemed so by Vil himself. You knew how to act elegantly and like a person of status, so the Housewarden was glad to have you around. 

When Vil overblots, Epel is scared. He has never witnessed this and had to face it in person. However, you seemed to be confident. In fact, you sat yourself in Vil’s throne and whispered the name Sebastian Michaelis while reaching up and taking off your eye patch. The purple-haired first year is very confused until he sees a figure packing Vil up like he was taking him on vacation.

Within a few moments, Vil was on the ground and the figure was making sure you were alright and unscathed. Epel came over and asked who the heck he was, at which you rolled your eyes and Sebastian ‘smiled’ and gave his classic and iconic introduction. 

You made a deal with a demon?? Oh, hell no. He has seen too many horror movies for this. You, however, being as smart as you are, assured Epel that it was a very fair deal. You only wanted to catch your parents’ killers and Sebastian would get your soul. Like Ace, he faints out of shock.

Sebek Zigvolt

How did Crowley think letting in a literal child was a good idea? Let’s not forget about the fact that you don’t have magic either. You were also sickly. It’s literally the worst case scenario for you. The amount of times you have had shouting matches with each other is unfathomable.

He is that annoying older sibling who leaves the door open, and you can’t tell me any differently. He acts like he’s the boss simply because he’s older, until he realizes that your wit rivals even Malleus’s. Even Lilia has a hard time competing against you. That’s when it clicks: maybe you weren’t totally horrible…

When Leona overblotted, he was there on the field with everyone else. He spotted you standing still in the midst of people much bigger than you running past you. You took a seat on a nearby bench that was on the field and whispered something. The half-fae was too far away to hear what you had said, but he can see the smirk you had.

Within a few moments, Leona was brought to his knees and a man dressed in a suit was standing above the overblot victim. Sebek was just shocked. Then, you called out to the man (who he now learned is Sebastian) and you talked to him as though he were an employee.

Sebek walked over and asked who or what the guy standing next to you was. After Sebastian’s magnificent introduction, you explained that he was a demon that you had employed under a Faustian contract. You even removed your eye patch to show the mark. The poor crocodile was on the verge of fainting.

[holylulusworld]

Hit it off king of hell style

Title: Hit it off king of hell style.

Summary: You are done running after Dean, so you take Crowley’s offer and hit it of king of hell style.

Square filled for @spnquotebingo​​​​​: “Son of a bitch!” - SPN

Word Count: 1,3k+

Pairing: Demon!Dean x fem!Reader, former Dean x fem!Reader, Crowley x fem!Reader (platonic)

Rating: Mature

Warnings: angst, language, pissed reader, Y/N is just done, drunk reader, flirty Crowley, mentions of smut, cheating, jealousy, overuse of the word ‘fuck’ and sonofabitch, mentions of deaths, fingering, implied smut, kidnapping (kinda)

Divider by @firefly-graphics​​

SPN Quote Bingo masterlist

“Crowley,” you mutter under your breath, eying the demon warily while he steps closer. 

“Grasshopper,” Crowley smirks, sitting next to you to order his favorite poison. “How have you been? Did your partner in crime leave you hanging again?”

“You know exactly that Dean ran off again,” you down your next drink, hissing when the amber liquid runs down your throat, burning deliciously. “I’m just done running after that sonofabitch!”

“I see,” nodding thoughtfully Crowley orders another drink for you. “I’ll have a single malt,” he dips his head to look at you. “Do you want something better than this-“ the king of hell shoves the drink the bartender poured him away, nose scrunched up in disgust.

“Do you have better stuff?” you quip, not interested to leave your bar stool or the dingy bar in the middle of nowhere anytime soon. “Guess you only want to use me to control his demonic ass.” snickering you down your next drink. “Burns so good.”

“I know he told you to not come back,” the demon sighs, patting your shoulder. “Must be hard. Squirrel is not Squirrel any longer, Grasshopper. He’s all rage and bloodlust. Not that I would mind a little massacre here and there, but Dean is bad for business.”

You snicker at Crowley’s pained expression. “What did he do? Did he piss in your cornflakes or something?”

“Something like that,” the demon grumbles. “I tell Dean to kill an unfaithful wife, and he kills the guy signing the contract. What will happen if people hear I can’t control Dean? No one is going to sign shit any longer.”

Cradling his face in his hands Crowley huffs. “You should’ve known better, Crowley. Dean is a timebomb with black eyes. Before he was unpredictable but now – he’s just-,” you shrug, not finding the right words. “An asshole.”

“I second that,” Crowley laughs when you order another drink and a Piña Colada for him. “How about we fuck him over and have some fun, Grasshopper?”

“I don’t think so,” licking your lips you look at Crowley who tries to look taller. He stretches his neck, groaning as something cracks. “We can have a few drinks, though.”

“Deal,” holding out his hand Crowley looks at your hand. “Grasshopper, you must shake my hand. That’s how you agree to a deal.”

“I won’t sign any deals with you, king of hell,” growling the words you hop off the barstool. “Did you come here to get my soul or shit? Do you honestly think I would sell it for Dean, the guy who just railed a waitress and let me watch?”

“You watched?” you roll your eyes at Crowley’s words. “Seriously?”

“No, I did not watch. Why should I watch my ex fuck a random chick? I got better things to do, like drinking and giving a shit on his demonic ass. Just wish I gave him the boot sooner.”

“Broken heart?” Crowley carefully tries. “Come on, Grasshopper. Let’s hit it off king of hell style. We can have a few drinks and I promise to not let you sign any deals.”

“Fine, whatever. Got nothing else to do,” you grasp for your jacket and purse. “You will pay for my drinks.”

“Of course, my lady…”

“And then he went off to play house with Lisa, that yoga chick he barely knew,” you slur, giggling as Crowley tries to down the girly drink you ordered for him. “Can you believe he left my cute ass to play house?”

“I would’ve never left you, Grasshopper,” Crowley nods to himself, imagine getting you in his clutches, a collar placed around your neck, his name hanging from it. “How about you come with me, and I’ll show you a whole new world?”

“Nah, I got a nice drink, some peanuts, and a good view at the bartender’s ass when he bends to pick up shit,” you smirk. “Dean can go and fuck himself, or anyone else around.”

“He hurt you – huh?”

“Demon or not, we were still married, and he just told me,” you mutter, leaning closer to Crowley. “We ain’t married anymore, sweetheart! It says, ‘till death do us part’.”

“He did?” brows furrowed Crowley watches you throw a few peanuts into his face. “What?”

“That’s all your fault,” poking your finger into Crowley’s chest you growl at him. “It was you telling him about that fucking first blade and Cain. He got the mark because of you, Crowley. Don’t act all innocently now.”

“I didn’t know he would die,” Crowley shrugs. “At least not through Metatron’s hands and so soon.”

“But you knew about the consequences and said nothing. All of it only to howl at the moon with a feral demon called Dean Winchester. That’s pathetic for a king of hell. You should retire or get a hobby,” you grunt, ordering another drink. “Give me my poison.”

“I think she had enough,” the demon watches you slip off the chair to dance to the music in your head. “What are you doing?”

“Dancing, Crowley!” you smack the back of his head, grinning as he doesn’t fight back. “That’s for ruining my marriage, sonofabitch! If I wasn’t drunk, you’ll be dead by now. But I’ll leave this to Sam…Sammy.”

“Moose? Did you call him?”

“Nah, he would ask how it went and I am not in the mood to explain his big brother is busy fucking his way through the state of-“ blinking a few times you look at Crowley. “Where the fuck are we?”

“A bar?” Crowley smirks when you slap his cheek. He would never admit it, but he has a thing for dominant women. “Ouch, that tickled Grasshopper.”

“Stop calling me that, Crowley. You promised we would hit it off, but this is just hanging out at a bar with better drinks,” you sigh. “Maybe I should find a dick to ride for the night.”

“Oh-“ the bartender clears his throat, almost dropping the bottle of Whiskey in his hands. “Is she single?” the man whispers in Crowley’s direction. “I don’t want an angry husband to chase after me with a baseball bat, or gun again.”

“Not a chance,” Crowley growls. “If anyone gets her in his clutches, it’s me.”

“DREAM ON!” a deep voice bellows. “Did I not tell you to bring her back to my brother?” Dean grunts, watching you sway to the music in your head. “This-“ jerking his head toward you Dean narrows his eyes, “doesn’t look like bringing her home. It looks like getting her drunk to take advantage of my wife.”

“Ex-wife,” you mutter, pointing your index finger at Dean. “You said it yourself, we aren’t married anymore. You dicked down that chick and I can fuck Crowley if I want to.”

“You won’t!” Dean closes the distance between you with three longs steps before he grasps for you to throw you over his shoulder. 

“Lemme down, you sonofabitch,” you lift your head to ask Crowley for help. “You’re a fine bar buddy, Crowley. You can’t just let him take me.”

“Sorry, Grasshopper?” Crowley shrugs, laughing when you throw insults at him. “I can’t control a timebomb. You should know that.”

“What do you want?” wiggling on the bed in the messy motel room Dean brought you to, you try to break out of the ropes. “Let me go, asshole!”

“You will not speak until I’m done with you,” the demon tuts. “If you open your mouth again, I’ll gag you with my boxers.”

“What the fuck!”

“Final warning, sweetheart,” sliding his index finger over your lips Dean smirks when your breath hitches in your throat. “I think that I’ll put your mouth to better use later.”

“Hmpf…” his finger slides past your lips into your mouth, swiping over your tongue. 

“Always loved your mouth around my dick,” he muses, shoving two fingers into your mouth, slowing starting to move them in and out. He smirks, loving you look up at him, pupils lust blown.

“Do you want to say something, Y/N?” you hate he smirks down at you when he removes his fingers. “I bet,” he leans closer to lick over your cheek, “when I’m done with you sweetheart, you know how it feels to hit it off Dean Winchester style…” and just like that, he shoves his fingers into your slicked cunt, curling them. “Yeah, I think you’ll know…”

Tags in reblog.

[megumisbimbo]

- Four -

megumi fushiguro x reader

genre: fluff, slight angst

summary: (y/n) was nothing special. A human being who had no idea that curses walked the same earth they walked. But then they locked eyes with Megumi Fushiguro. Can Fushiguro focus on the task ahead or will he be distracted by the king of curses and his new love interest?

series masterlist

©️ @megumisbimbo — all rights reserved. Please do not repost, modify or translate my work. Reblogs and likes appreciated!

Credit for the main storyline and characters goes to Gege Akutami.

tags: @xreemie @kitkozume @noyakura @vanilnya20​ @tobi--o​

the songs are indicated throughout the story at certain points!

songs used:

put your records on - ritt momney

who dat boy - tyler the creator

goodbye - billie eilish

— put your records on - ritt momney —

(y/n) pov:

It was early in the morning when you were woken up by the sound of rustling. You turn and see Fushiguro frantically getting himself together.

“New mission?” You ask, voice deep and scratchy.

“It was a bit of an emergency, sorry I can’t stay today. But the rest of the sashimi is in the fridge.”

“I’ll be fine Megumi, I promise. You shouldn’t worry so much you’ll get wrinkles.” You say, causing him to let out a small chuckle.

“Are you ready to leave yet?” You ask

“No not yet.”

“Then can I play with Kou?”

Megumi gives you a puzzled glare.

“Kou?..”

“Your white dog. I named it Kou! Isn’t it cute!?”

“You shouldn’t get so attached to them you know.”

“Yes yes I know. Now can I play with it?!”

Megumi smiles and summons his white dog, who he noticed has taken a special liking to you. As much as he knew it would be a bad idea for you to get so attached to his shikigami, he couldn’t help but feel all warm inside when he saw you laughing. He finished getting ready and him and his white dog make their way out the door bidding you goodbye. You stare out the window again, noticing that you tend to do that often. Well you didn’t want to sit around all day bored as hell, so you decide to watch a movie on Megumi’s television and finish the sushi from the day before.

Megumi pov:

They looked so cute playing with my divine dog, how could I say no to that face.

“Snap out of it Megumi.” Nobara says waving her hand in front of my face.

“Were you even paying attention?”

“Of course I was.” I respond, slightly irritated.

“Thinking about (y/n) again?”

“WHA- WHY- WHY WOULD YOU THINK THAT??” I say, startled by her question.

“I don’t know. Just a hunch I guess.”

Itadori walks outside and greets us with a smile. Reminds me of their smile...stop it Megumi you’re going insane.

Ijichi-san’s black car rolls up beside us and we step into the backseat. He drives us to the Juvenile Detention Center in West Tokyo. We step out of the car and walk towards building two.

“Our windows confirmed a curse womb approximately three hours ago. Five inmates are currently trapped inside along with the curse. Curse wombs that grow and change shape can be expected to become a curse close to that of a special grade. You are not to engage.”

I know that a curse of special grade ranking should be dealt with by a special grade sorcerer. Where is Gojo-sensei?

“Satoru is currently on a business trip.”

Of course.

A woman comes running towards us, stopped by the gate guards.

“Is Tadashi...my son. Is my son ok?!?”

I turn and see Itadori’s face turn pale. He needs to stop letting his feelings get involved.

“We cannot disclose any more information at this point.” One of the guards explains.

“Fushiguro, Kugisaki. We have to save him.” Itadori says.

“Of course.”

Ijichi-san lowers the curtain and I summon Kou.

“If it gets close, Ko-... my dog will let us know.”

“Let’s do this.”

— who dat boy - tyler the creator—

We walk into the building and are immediately caught off guard. The whole place is a maze. I turn around looking for the entrance.

“Damn. Where’s the door?”

Kugisaki and Itadori panic but I explain that Kou would be able to sniff it’s way out, since it remembered the scent of the entrance.

“You’re so reliable Fushiguro.” Itadori says with a smile, a familiar glint in his eyes.

He reacts the same way (y/n) does. They really must be close.

We walk deeper into the maze and find the work yard where the curse had first been seen. A mangled up body lay across from us. Itadori walks up to the body and pulls on the shirt he was wearing.

Tadashi Okazaki

“Is it that woman’s son?” Kugisaki asks.

“We’re bringing this body back. His face isn’t that messed up. She won’t be satisfied if we just tell her that her son is dead.” Itadori responds.

I grab onto his uniform and pull him away from the victim.

“Leave him. We have to confirm that the other two are dead.” I say, knowing exactly who this man is.

“Everytime we look back the path is different. How’re we gonna get back here?” Itadori responds.

“I said leave him. I never said we were coming back. He’s not even worth saving alive, why would I save his dead body.”

Itadori grabs onto the collar of my jacket.

“What’re you talking about?” He says, anger laced in his tone.

“This is a juvenile detention center. I read about what he did to get in here. He was driving without a license and hit a girl who was walking home from school, and that was the second infraction. I know you want to save everyone, so they can die a natural death, but who’s to say that someone you save won’t kill someone else in the future?”

Itadori looks at me with a blank stare. Anger festers within him. I can feel his energy shifting.

“THEN WHY DID YOU SAVE ME!?”

I...can’t answer that.

Kugisaki’s voice tears us away from each others stare.

“Knock it off you two! This isn’t the time or-“

Her body being sucked into a hole on the ground cuts her sentence off. We both stare blankly at the spot where she was standing.

No way.

“There’s no way...my divine dog would have-“

I turn around and see Kou’s head sticking out of the wall. Completely dead. My heart sinks. (y/n).

“Fushiguro!”

I turn towards Itadori, fear building up inside me.

“Run! We’ll find Kugisaki after we get away-“

My words are cut off by the immense amount of cursed energy I suddenly feel beside us. The special grade.

I can’t move. Neither can Itadori...I think.

Itadori suddenly swings his slaughter demon upwards in hopes of at least wounding the special grade. It proves absolutely futile when both the slaughter demon and his hand fly through the air landing a few feet away from us. I look back at Itadori and find his arm gushing with blood.

We’ve lost.

“Fushiguro. Run. Find Kugisaki. Let me know when you get out of here.”

“I’m not leaving you behind!”

“Fushiguro...Please...”

My heart sinks as I see Itadori’s pleading smile. I know he’s strong, but he’ll die if I leave him with this curse.

Wait.

I nod and find my will to move. I run as fast as I can through the building desperately searching for Kugisaki, my black divine dog leading the way. I finally reach her and, using my frog shikigami, pull her away from the curse that was holding her. We both manage to escape from the building. I drop her off with Ijichi-san, and my divine dog lets out a howl, signaling our escape.

Please let him make it out.

Ijichi-san explains that he’ll take Kugisaki to a doctor, and insists that I come along with him. I refuse and opt to wait for Itadori outside the building. I ask him if he could do his best to bring a sorcerer higher than a grade one when he returns. Although it isn’t likely he will, he agrees and drives away with Kugisaki safely tucked in the backseat.

I wait for what feels like ages. Suddenly, I notice the expanded dormitory has disappeared, which means the special grade curse has died.

Now if Itadori would just come back.

My thoughts are interrupted by a familiar sinister voice.

“If it’s about him, he’s not coming back.”

My whole body tenses up at the sound of that demon’s voice.

“Don’t worry, I’m in a good mood right now. Let’s talk.”

Where’s Itadori? He should have switched back by now.

“He seems to be having some trouble, but it’s only a matter of time before he’ll switch back. So I thought about what I could do in the meantime.” Sukuna says, an evil grin creeping across his face.

I watch as Sukuna buries his fist inside Itadori’s chest and rips out his heart. My eyes widen as I watch him hold Itadori’s still beating heart in his hand.

“I’m taking this brat hostage!”

He can live without the heart but...Itadori can’t. He’ll die if he switches back.

“Itadori will come back, even if his death is the result...that’s just the type of person he is.” I say, my heart racing.

“You think too highly of him. Just a while ago he was so scared while on the verge of death. He was a mess you know. Talking about (y/n) and why he’s sorry and how he’ll miss them. How pathetic.”

(y/n). Dammit.

My mind is racing as I stare at Itadori’s body, covered with tattoos and gushing red hot blood.

I’ll try and make him restore Itadori’s heart before he comes back by convincing him that he can’t win with a heartless body. I have to. But is that even possible? For someone who couldn’t even move in front of a special grade curse. Doesn’t matter. I’ll do it.

“I’m finally outside, Let’s make use of this space!”

I quickly summon Nue to fight Sukuna. Although I’m using my shikigami, I’ll fight him myself as well. I think I manage to land a blow, but it’s quickly blocked.

“Put some more curse behind your blows!” Sukuna says before punching me in the face.

I summon my Serpent and with the help of Nue, I manage to restrain Sukuna.

“Don’t give him a chance!” I yell to my shikigami, hoping that I’d be able to hold him long enough to land a critical blow.

I watch in shock as Sukuna rips my Serpent apart, freeing himself. Without a second to think, I find him grabbing onto the back of my shirt, flinging me into the air. He follows me up into the sky and hits me hard against the back of my head. I fly aimlessly through the air, but Nue scoops me into its wings and softens the blow of the landing. I turn and pet it’s head.

Nue is at its limit. I have to undo the spell before it’s destroyed. I carelessly used my shikigami and now my Serpent and Kou are both destroyed.

Sukuna lands in front of me.

“Your shikigami use shadow as a medium, don’t they?” He asks.

“So what?”

“Hmmm, you don’t get it do you?

I give him a questioning look, still disoriented from the beating I just received.

“What a waste of talent...in any case, I’m not going to heal the brat. He’s not even worth fighting for.”

“Well I save people...unfairly.”

I let out all of my curse, allowing the blue tinted energy to flow through and around me.

“You’re going to get fired up now? That’s good! Well then. Entertain me Fushiguro Megumi!!”

I begin reciting a chant usually done by shinto priests that is believed to summon the dead. Also known as “The ten sacred treasures.” My thoughts are spinning, disorienting me more.

(y/n). What would they think of me? How could I face them if I lose Itadori.

— goodbye - billie eilish —

I stop, realizing the only way to win is to pull Itadori out of his own head, no matter the cost.

“Itadori, I know you can hear me. I didn’t have any logical reason to save you and (y/n) back then. Even if it was dangerous, even if they are a liability, I couldn’t watch good people die. I had some doubts but... ultimately I made a selfish choice driven by my emotions. But that’s fine. So to answer your question...I saved you because...because I’m not a hero. I’m a sorcerer. I never regretted saving you two. Not even once.”

The tattoos on his body begin to fade, and Itadori’s face resurfaces.

“I see...You’re smart Fushiguro and I think the way you live your truth is right. But I don’t think I’m wrong either.”

Itadori’s chest gushes blood and his body becomes limp.

“Ah, it’s almost time for me... Kugisaki and Gojo-sensei...I guess I don’t have to worry about them anymore. Live a long life Fushiguro, and tell (y/n)...I...love....the-“

His body hits the ground creating a puddle of blood. Tears form in my onyx eyes.

I have to go home to (y/n)...what will I tell them. I’m sorry (y/n). I couldn’t save him.

[freddie-weaselbee]

E1: The One Where It All Begins//F.W.

Series Summary: FRIENDS but with Harry Potter characters after Hogwarts graduation, trying to figure out their lives and relationships. Non Voldy AU. Begins around the end of FRIENDS season 4 with The Wedding (except this first one) and semi follows plots in season 5. Partially inspired by @lunalovecroft but follows different episodes and plots. 

Pairing(s): Fred Weasley x Fem!Reader, Romione, Hinny, Georgelina

Warnings: Mentions of food/drink, suicide joke (very brief and light, nothing graphic), slight language, mentions of sex/strip clubs

Summary: It’s been 3 years since Y/N graduated from Hogwarts and moved into an apartment in Diagon Alley. Her life with her friends is simple and predictable, until a girl she hasn’t seen in years walks through the coffee shop door. 

Word Count: 2.6k

A/N: My first fic posted to tumblr! Probably going to be a 5-10 part series I haven’t decided yet

Based on FRIENDS S1 E1

------------------------------

“There’s nothing to tell! It’s just some guy I work with”

You waved your hands frantically at the people questioning you, trying not to spill your coffee on your new sweater and plaid skirt, apparently to no avail. You huffed as the latte sloshed over the edge and landed in a heap on your lap. The redhead sitting next to you, your roommate and closest friend Ginny, grabbed some napkins to help clean you up. 

“C’mon,” spoke a voice, coming from the chair to the left to the couch upon which you were sitting. “You’re going out with a guy, there’s gotta be something wrong with him!”

“So does he have a hump, a hump and a hairpiece?” came another voice, this time from off to your right. 

Rolling your eyes you replied to the almost identical voices coming from identical people. “Oh sod off you two, like you haven’t gone out with some whack jobs.”

Ginny laughed as her twin brothers, George and Fred respectively, mumbled and settled back in their seats. She helped clean up any coffee that spilled on the couch before realization dawned on her. “Wait, does he have a small penis?”

Three groans came out simultaneously from the group, ⅔ of which were from Ginny’s siblings. 

“What? I just don’t want her to go through what I did with Dean, aww.” She looked off into the distance as if in a trance, remembering her time with the boy she dated back when you were all attending Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. 

“You know you have a boyfriend, right?” Ginny smiled sheepishly at the words coming from her boyfriend, the infamous Harry Potter, known also as the boy who lived. If it wasn't for his mom sacrificing herself for him, Voldemort wouldn’t have died for good that Halloween night. Imagine if he was somehow brought back, what a series that would be. 

“Ok, everybody relax,” you said, returning the conversation to your dating life. “I have no idea how big or small his dick is, Ginny.” You scoffed and her brothers gagged at their sister’s discussion of her and her ex’s sex life. “Besides, this isn’t even a date. It’s just two people going out to dinner and not having sex.”

Harry, the quietest one of your group, spoke up. “Sounds like a date to me.” You threw your dirty napkins at him and he ducked the toss, hiding his chuckle behind his coffee cup. 

Ginny got up to order a cappuccino, her usual at the Diagon Alley coffee shop. After the twins started their joke shop, Weasley’s Wizard Wheezes, and the rest of you graduated, you and Ginny  decided to get a place together down the street from the popular business. Being the same year as Harry and one of Ginny’s other brothers, Ron, you stayed in touch with the boys after graduation and they eventually found an apartment right across the hall from yours. With the 6 of you--Ginny, Ron, Harry, Fred, George, and yourself--living so close to each other, you began to spend all of your free time together, usually ending up lounging around the coffee shop until the owner kicked you all out. 

“Do you guys want to hear about a dream I had last night?” It was Fred who had spoken, the slightly older and slightly more attractive twin, in your humble opinion. 

“If it’s another sex dream about Snape, Freddie…” The group howled with laughter and you threw a hand to your mouth, silently cursing yourself for giving up the secret your friend had told you months ago. 

“You arsehole!” he yelled, not actually meaning it. He buried his face in his hands, trying to cover the deep red spreading through his cheeks. 

You tried to hold back your laughter but it bubbled out as you apologized. “I’m so sorry Freddie, it just came out! Kind of like in your dream when--”

“Y/N!” He jumped out of his chair and launched himself onto you, covering your mouth with his hand. You were bent over, holding your stomach with laughter. Ginny returned looking extremely confused. 

“What’s so funny?” Fred gave you a look, telling you that you were dead meat if you mentioned this to his sister. You shrugged at him and nodded. You would just tell her once you two got home anyways. 

“Your darling brother here was just about to tell us about a dream he had.”

Ginny groaned loudly, plopping down in her usual spot on the couch. “Is this like the one about Snape--”

“WHAT THE FUCK Y/N?”

Oh. Maybe you had already told Ginny. Whoops. 

After a few more rounds of laughter and jesting at the oldest of the friend group, Fred finally told his dream, consisting of nudity, a wand for a penis, and a very interesting Howler from his mother. 

You were all in hysterics, Harry wiping tears from his eyes and Ginny switching spots with you to throw her legs over her boyfriend's lap. It was at that moment that the final member of your 6 person friend group, Ronald Weasley, Gryffindor’s King, moped into the café. 

He trudged over to the couch and chairs that your group had practically claimed as your own. “Hi.”

“Wow,” said Ginny, “my brother says hi I wanna kill myself!” Harry slapped Ginny playfully on the shoulder as she moved and nuzzled into his chest. 

You stood up to meet your oldest friend. During Hogwarts you and Ron were inseparable. You did everything together, usually along with Harry and another girl, who you hadn’t spoken to in years. You laid a hand on the sulking man’s shoulder. “You ok sweetie?” you asked. 

Ron huffed and sat down on the couch. “I just feel like someone reached down my throat, grabbed my small intestine, pulled it out of my mouth and tied it around my neck.”

“Cookie?” The younger twin spoke up, trying to defuse the tension but only making it worse. 

You sighed and realized you would have to explain the situation, even though almost everyone there was his family and should have known what was going on already. 

“Padma moved away today.” Your words were met with a chorus of ‘ohs’ from the group. George leaned over to pat his brother’s shoulder and Fred stood up to buy him a coffee. 

“I’ll be fine, alright really everybody,” Ron said. “I hope she’ll be very happy.”

“No you don’t,” said Harry. 

“No I don’t, to hell with her she left me!” 

Ginny almost let out a chuckle but figured right now was not the best time to tease her hurting brother. Unfortunately, her other siblings didn’t have the same idea. 

Fred returned with the coffee and he and George spoke at the same time. “And you never knew she was a lesbian?”

Ron facepalmed and groaned into his hand. He was growing increasingly tired of you all making fun of him for his relationship with Padma. After their date to the Yule Ball they dated on and off for the rest of their time at Hogwarts. They stayed together after graduation, going out consistently for the last 3 years. Ron was even considering a proposal soon, but that was when Padma came out to the world and let Ron know she was moving to the country with her old “roommate.” Needless to say he didn’t take it well and your friend group never let him hear the end of it. 

The youngest Weasley brother kicked George’s shin as he continued to laugh. “No, ok? Why does everyone keep fixating on that? She didn’t know, how should I know?

“Sometimes I wish I was a lesbian.”

You all turned to the end of the couch, where two voices spoke in unison. However, these weren’t the constantly in sync voices of the twins. Harry and Ginny had both spoken those words out loud and were now staring incredulously at each other. 

“Harry--”

“Ginny--”

“Well mates, it looks like you two have got some things to work out, and I would appreciate it if that didn’t happen in front of your family.” Fred winked at the couple before turning back to Ron. “Alright Ron, look. You’re feeling a lot of pain right now.”

“You’re angry,” interrupted George. 

“You’re hurting.”

The twins leaned in toward their little brother. “Can I tell you what the answer is?” George asked. 

Ron nodded reluctantly and the twins sat back and nearly screamed their solution. “Strip joint!”

“You two are disgusting” you said, suddenly losing your appetite. 

Fred wiggled his eyebrows at you. “You’re just saying that because you don’t get anything out of it! How about afterwards we go back to your place and I put on a little show for you?”

At that comment everyone took turns slapping Fred upside the head, you going back for seconds. 

Ron was still sulking, not having even touched his coffee. 

“C’mon, ickle Ronniekins!” George began. “You’re single, have some hormones!”

You met Ginny’s eyes and shared a similar annoyed look. It was difficult only having one other girl in a friend group of 4 boys. Sometimes you wished you had someone else to help balance the group out. 

“See George I don’t want to be single, ok? I just, I just wanted to propose to her! To be married!”

The ringing of the bell above the coffee shop door grabbed your attention, and you almost spilled your coffee again. Walking into the building, wearing a full wedding dress, makeup and hair done and all, was your old friend. The one you hadn’t seen since you graduated 3 years ago. The one you hadn’t heard more than a peep from in forever. 

“Hermione?”

Fred looked between his youngest brother and the mystery bride, complete confusion on his face. “And I just want a million galleons!” He stuck his hand out as if expecting the coins to fall from the sky. You pushed past him and made your way to your old friend. 

The brunette turned at the sound of your voice and her face lit up. “Oh Godric, Y/N hi! I was just at your apartment and you weren’t there and then this guy with a big hammer, who probably should have a background check done on him I’ll write to your landlord about that, but he said that you might be here and you are, you are!”

You grabbed the hysterical girl and walked her over to your group. Hermione Granger, the girl who was usually so logical and under control, was going absolutely crazy. 

“Ok umm,” you started. “Hermione, this is the gang. You remember everyone right? I mean there’s Harry and Ginny, she and I share an apartment right next door. Then Fred and George, we’ve been spending a lot of time together over the past few years. Oh, and obviously Ron, he’s sulking in the corner.”

Ron shot daggers at you as he stood up to give Hermione a hug, which ended up a disaster of a mess as he dropped a jelly donut on her white dress. The boy sat down as Hermione said hi to everyone, greeting Harry and Ginny with massive hugs. 

“I didn’t know you hung out with the twins, I thought they always saw us as their little brother’s annoying friends. I guess I’ve missed a lot, huh?”

“Yeah, why do we hang out with them George?”

“Because it’s either that or have mum at our throats for not spending time with our siblings.”

“Ah, that’s right.”

Hermione scooted in between Ron and Ginny, sighing and staring at the coffee table in front of her, oblivious to the 6 pairs of eyes boring into the crazy woman before you. Having no spots left to sit you walked toward Fred who gestured to his lap with a sly look. You rolled your eyes at the boy and muttered a “you wish Weasley” before sitting on the arm of the chair, letting your ginger friend grab your hand and fidget with the rings on your fingers. 

“So you wanna tell us now, or are we waiting for 4 wet bridesmaids?” Hermione looked at you apologetically before she spoke. 

“Oh Godric, well. It started about a half hour before the wedding. I was in Bulgaria with Viktor’s cousins, all wonderful ladies by the way, and I was looking at his staff, y’know the big one he carries around that makes him so attractive?” 

You and Ginny nodded, along with Ron who seemed to be daydreaming about the Quidditch star. 

“Well, I’m looking at this staff, this rough rugged staff, and I realized...I realized that this staff has more intellect and substance than Viktor! And then I got really freaked out, and then it hit me. How much Viktor looks like Mr. Potato Head.”

You and George made eye contact across the room trying to communicate with your eyes whether or not you should all bolt and leave the crazy girl behind. 

But she continued. “I mean, I always knew he looked familiar but, anyway, I just had to get out of there and I started wondering, why am I doing this and who am I doing this for? I thought I loved Viktor, and moving to Bulgaria helped me with foreign ministry practices, but I just, I wasn’t thinking. Or maybe I was thinking too much? I don’t know.”

Ginny rubbed her friend’s back and Hermione leaned into the touch. “So anyway,” she said, looking at you, “I just didn’t know where to go and I know that you and I have kinda drifted apart since Hogwarts but you were the only friend I knew who was living in Diagon Alley--albeit I didn’t know you were living with Ginny but it’s a great surprise to see you.”

You took a second to process everything that was happening, not even realizing your other friend had begun to soothingly rub your back. “Your only friend in Diagon Alley, who you haven’t written to in years and who wasn’t invited to the wedding?”

Hermione rubbed her temples in desperation and you knew you could never actually be mad at the brightest witch of her age. “I was, I was really hoping that wouldn’t come up. I’m so sorry about that, Y/N, and Harry, and Ron, and even you Ginny.”

“Wow, alright then,” the twins spoke in unison again. 

Hermione scowled at them, her already bad mood being worsened by their jokes. “In my defense you two never really liked me in the first place.”

Fred was about to say something but you shushed him, fearing that more likely that not it would be something offensive to the scared girl. 

You stood from your uncomfortable seat and lifted your friend up by her hands. “I was just thinking about how great it would be to have another girl around. And Ginny and I do have an extra room that we were going to rent out, but seeing as an opportunity has presented itself…”

The young witch’s face beamed with happiness as she threw her arms around you. “Thank you Y/N, thank you so much! I’m still working for the Ministry so I can pay rent, and I’m sure there are things I can do to fix up the apartment, the building looked a little, umm, under the weather when I went to find you, and I can get closer with you and Ginny, and obviously catch up with you boys, and--”

Hermione continued to ramble on, but you drowned her out as you felt a warm breath next to your ear. Fred had snuck up behind you and was bent over your shoulder, whispering softly. 

“She’s going to be a real handful, isn’t she?”

You elbowed the boy and turned to look up at him, giving a knowing smile. “As if you aren’t. Besides, I have a feeling that having Hermione here is about to make our lives a lot more interesting.”

[popatochisssp]

if/when you get the energy/time to- im really curious; what kinda fuzzy friends do the newer skeles have? does pitch have a seeing eye-dog version of princess? or does ell and/or nemo have a fuzzy buddy to help with their anxiety or anything similar or in-between? spare fuzzy friend hcs for the poor, ma'am????

Well, you asked for it!

Ash (Undergloom Sans): A cat named Annie (Ragdoll), adopted as an emotional support buddy! She picked him, really, just ambling right on up to him, and it was love at first flop-over-his feet. Having a little sweetheart like her to take care of has really helped to pull Ash out of the doldrums and he loves her a lot. She’s a big-time cuddlebug, just like he is, and they definitely spend a ton of time napping together, everywhere and anywhere.

Annie’s Quirks: Extra chunky (master of the ‘I haven’t been fed yet 🥺’ con), stockpiles socks and undies beneath the bed, shameless catnip junkie

Yrus (Undergloom Papyrus): He feels like he’s not as active as he should be, lots of time spent indoors doing academic things, when there’s a whole beautiful world out there that he should be getting out to see at least sometimes... He has the idea that maybe an animal companion would be the right motivation to get up and out at least a couple times a day, and Cannoli (Pembroke Welsh Corgi) is the solution to the problem! They click pretty much immediately and are just very well-suited to each other, especially as exercise partners.

Cannoli’s Quirks: Loves (short) walks, rests his head on any feet that stay still long enough, must sleep in the same bed as the people and will hop/bark/cry if he can’t get up there himself

Brick (Horrorfell Sans):He doesn’t know too much of the story himself, he’s sure he was told in more detail but probably forgot. All he remembers is, a friend of a friend had a dog who had an accident...or maybe it got sick? Either way, it went deaf, and the dog was too big and unwieldy for them to try to retrain themselves. But they had a friend who was HoH, and that friend was active in the community with lots of other signing and HoH folks and could ask around about someone who might be up for the challenge of having and training a real big dog that couldn’t hear a word you said to it. That’s how Brick heard about it, anyway, and he’s not deaf but he’s big, and he figures he probably knows at least enough sign by now to train a dog. And that’s how Tiny (English Mastiff) comes to stay at his place. They clumsily work on understanding each other, it’s definitely a Process, but there’s plenty of fondness there to make any difficulty worth the trouble.

Tiny’s Quirks: Bit of a digging problem, gets very excited about balloons, likes to sit near people and lean his entire weight into them

King (Horrorfell Papyrus): This one may look familiar, but it’s fate-- Doomfanger (Persian) belongs with him and could find her way to him in any universe. ...But King was a little later getting to the Surface, and wasn’t there to pick her up when she was freshly on the streets. She spent awhile longer being an alleycat, a few years of living the rough life, and one day when she’s not quite fast enough to scurry out of the way of an oncoming car, it probably would’ve been the end for her... if not for the kind Samaritan skeleton who was just passing by that scooped her up off the pavement and brought her to a vet. King tried very hard not to get attached to her, especially when it was still looking like she wouldn’t make it, but he kept moving the goalpost of when he’d let himself care about her. ‘IF IT LIVES UNTIL MORNING,’ ‘IF IT MAKES IT TO THE VET,’ ‘IF SHE SURVIVES HER SURGERY,’ ‘IF--’ and then she looks at him, with her goofy drugged up face, freshly missing the foot of her back paw so that they even match now, and... And just like that, Doomfanger has a home and a devoted cat-dad owner and anything else she could possibly need.

Doomfanger’s Quirks: Likes to be raked, makes an incredible fuss when shut out of any room for any reason, very spooked by loud noises and immediately runs and hides under daddy’s bed

Merc (Horrorswap Sans): He wanted a pet, especially when things were still a little strained with his brother and the nature of his...condition...made it difficult to make friends. He was lonely and a little pal would be very welcome in his home, but he’d also really hate to curse a furry friend with the ever-present threat of being dripped on and getting nasty bone-goop stuck in their fur... Ella (Sphynx) is the workaround to this unusual problem and makes herself right at home with Merc, happy to love on him whether he’s solid or sticky.

Ella’s Quirks: Has an extensive collection of sweaters that she adores (will sit by her dresser and meow until she is clothed), great sense for emotions and tends to appear whenever she’s needed, transfixed by mirrors

Ell (Horrorswap Papyrus): He didn’t choose Ripley (Maine Coon), Ripley... well, he’s not even sure Ripley chose him. He definitely chose Ella, because that pretty little sweater-wearing vixen in the window is what drove him to bust into Ell and Merc’s house and start sauntering around like he owned the place. Ripley (named before they realized he was a boy-cat) was definitely feral, with a notched ear and a missing eye, but he just keeps coming around, breaking and entering, cuddling with Ella and sharing her food, and when he one day hops into Ell’s lap and curls his big fluffy body up there... Ell makes the (possibly bad) decision to just shut the doors and windows on this mean, fat bastard and make him commit to the self-domestication he’d started. Ripley’s fickle, anti-social, and nine times out of ten mean as hell, but despite it all, Ell’s attached to the fucker. Doesn’t stop him from talking mad shit about his demon-cat to anyone who’ll listen, but y’know, there’s a weird sort of love there, between them both.

Ripley’s Quirks: Hates other cats and people, with Ell and Ella as the only exceptions (Ell sometimes, Ella always), does truly heinous things to birds and rodents and even bugs if the opportunity presents itself, an escape artist who is not to be trusted around doors or windows

Pitch (Horrorswapfell Sans): Ms. Sandy Peaches (Golden Retriever) is a service dog, trained to assist people with visual impairments in a variety of tasks. Pitch, who’d long been mulling over the idea of getting one such dog, eventually follows through, and as soon as he hears her name, he’s decided-- Sandy Peaches is the one for him! He’s been blind awhile by the time he gets her and generally knows his way around things, but she’s very helpful in his day-to-day and some of the things that were moderately inconvenient to get through before are only mildly inconvenient now, and her value as a helper and a companion is much appreciated.

Sandy’s Quirks: Gets excited when it’s time to put her vest on and go work, thinks the appropriate amount of brushing time is probably about three hours, loves to go swimming

Nemo (Horrorswapfell Papyrus): He found Dizzy (American Shorthair) after an accidental click led him to a local shelter’s Instagram, where they had a video of her playing and a few hashtags that explained her condition. He learned a lot about cerebellar hypoplasia, aka ‘wobbly cat syndrome,’ and when he eventually made it back to her video and watched it again... it was too late, he was already half in love with her. He contacts the shelter and after a couple weeks making arrangements, purchasing necessities, and wobbly-cat-proofing the house, he braves the outdoors to go get her and bring her home. She’s probably 100% his baby within the first hour and he loves being able to take care of her and help a kitty that not everybody would have the time or dedication to take in. The love is very much mutual and Dizzy’s tail does the ‘omg it’s you, I love you!’ tail-quiver whenever she sees him and trots on over.

Dizzy’s Quirks: Sixth sense for when there’s clean laundry to be laid on, likes to hold extended warbling and yowling conversations with people, chews on anything that crinkles (keep plastic wrappers out of reach!)

Sunny (Gastertale Sans): As soon as he knew he wanted a dog, he knew he wanted to pick up one of the less adoptable ones. Skipper (Beagle mutt) was certainly that, with only two legs--one in front and one in back. Sunny had a play session with the little guy and admired his energy and how enthusiastically he played, like his missing legs didn’t even phase him. Whatever happened in Skipper’s past, he’s not letting it be his problem now, and needless to say, he’s adopted and taken home in pretty short order. No holds barred fetch and spontaneous frolicking in open fields are a great bonding activity for these two, probably a match made in heaven.

Skipper’s Quirks: Tennis ball fiend (literally can never have enough), chews on unattended shoes, loves to sing (read: howl) along to music

Aster (Gastertale Papyrus): He wanted a guard dog, some big intimidating-looking thing that would look really, really cool guard the house. He finds Ace (Doberman/Great Dane), unfortunately with his ears already cropped (Aster wouldn’t have chosen the procedure himself), but otherwise a very handsome fellow and still definitely in need of love and a home, both of which Aster was willing and able to provide. He’s attentive with all the care and training his new pup needs, and when Ace grows up just as huge as predicted, looking like a cross between a panther and a hellhound, he’s become an extremely well-mannered and obedient dog, full to the tips of his pointy ears with love for Aster.

Ace’s Quirks: King of naps, the worst nightmare of any strangers at the door (but very affectionate and loving once they’re in!), will tell you if you’ve stopped petting him too soon, boofing and trying to put your hand back to make you resume

[stormcrawler75]

Wooing a Light Side Part 1

Summary: Virgil gets captured by Pride, the fearsome Dragon Witch of the Mindscape. Only he may not be as fearsome as everyone thinks.

Notes: Okay, so, this was created before Remus was revealed and I used Pride. This was also created before Virgil was officially revealed as a Dark Side so I have him as a Light Side here. I still wanted to post this though and I really hope that you all like it.

Warnings: Pre-AA, mentions of Deceit.

Wordcount: 10,221

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Virgil sighed and curled tightly in on himself, looking around the room he had been locked in. The room was dark but cozy, with a large bed pressed up against the wall and a fireplace roaring across from it. There was a plushy loveseat by the fireplace and a chessboard in front of it. In any other circumstance, Virgil would be glad to be in a place like this! It was just so beautiful!

But, Virgil wasn’t here by choice. He was a prisoner in Pride, otherwise known as the Dragon Witch’s castle.

It had been a total accident that he was here in the first place. The others had ventured into Roman’s realm for a nice picnic with, as Roman had spat, “no Anxiety around to ruin everything.”

Virgil had decided to roam through the Subconscious checking for any signs of Dark Sides sneaking around the Light Side. It was his job and Virgil took it very seriously. He had meant to go straight back to his room afterward to avoid meeting the others on their way back and having to see their bright smiles and the grass stains on their clothes from running around and having so much fun with each other as a family that Virgil wasn’t a part of.

But, he had forgotten one thing. The Subconscious was connected to the Imagination. Roman’s realm. One wrong step sent you right into the Imagination if you weren’t careful and Virgil had been so focused on checking for threats that he hadn’t noticed something was different until he realized that there were stone walls around him now instead of the grey wall of mist of the Subconscious.

It had taken only a few seconds of him stretching out his senses to realize that he was in the Imagination now. Now, that normally wouldn’t be so bad. Virgil had accidentally gone into all of the other’s realms before. Hell, he knew the Imagination so well that he could have sneaked out faster than Princey could recite one of those poems he liked so much. He might not have been able to sink out directly to his room since it was Roman’s realm but that never stopped him before. He knew other ways.

But he hadn’t factored in one thing. The thought that had sent him straight into the subconscious, was one about the Dragon Witch. A name that Roman had come out with for the Side that also had power over the Imagination, though not as much as the Creative side.

Virgil had not taken the discovery well. He had taken being captured by small dragons that came up to his knees and knowing that no one would come for him even worse.

The Dragons had brought him to the cushy room and had locked him in. Virgil had begged them to let him go but all they said, in a low and raspy voice, that the King had ordered for him to be kept in comfort until he himself could speak to Virgil.

Virgil sniffed and hugged one of the pillows to his chest. His hoodie was wet from the fog of the Subconscious and it had been sticking to his skin so he had taken it off and laid it out to dry in front of the fireplace, leaving him in his jeans, that had dried quickly, and a black long-sleeved shirt.

He flopped down on his side with his back to the door and buried his head in his pillow. Tears started to flood his eyes and Virgil bit his lip to stop them from flooding. He really wanted to believe that the other Light Sides would come to save him. That Roman would burst in on a white horse with his sword out to slay the Dragon Witch. That Logan would come to use his smarts to navigate the castle in their escape. That Patton would pull him into a tight hug and assure him that everything was going to be okay.

But Virgil wasn’t a part of their family. Virgil was Anxiety and how many times had they wished that he would disappear? As far as they were probably concerned, Virgil was right where he should be.

Virgil had been so many lost in thought that he didn’t notice the creaking of the door to his room cell or notice the eyes watching him. His eyes had actually just started to close when the sound of a hand closing the door startled him. He yelped and jerked up. Virgil whirled around to see him, Pride. The Dragon Witch.

Pride was looking at him with intrigued blood-red eyes. Like all of the Sides, he resembled Thomas but with differences. Pride’s eyes were red with brown hair hanging in front of them. He was dressed in black robes with red accents and was about 6 foot, a whole foot taller than Virgil. But, the things that drew Virgil’s gaze was the dull blue horns on his head and the same coloured tail that was peeking out of his robes.

Virgil’s breath hitched and he tangled his hands in the sheets of the bed. He slouched and ducked his head, not wanting to meet Pride’s eyes. He flinched when footsteps started to echo closer to him and his hands started to shake a little. Pride stopped right at the edge of his bed and studied Virgil intently. Virgil’s eyes flicked up and then it was like he couldn’t look away.

“So,” Pride said, “you are Anxiety.”  His voice was smooth and curious and it only served to make Virgil’s nerves spike.

Virgil swallowed and nodded, frozen with fear. It didn’t escape his notice though that Pride didn’t ask for his name or offer his own.

Pride hummed and his tail flicked back and forth. “I see. And, what is a Light Side doing in my castle?” His voice got a little more dangerous. “Did Creativity send you, little lamb? Did he send you to cause trouble in my castle?”

“No,” Virgil whispered, unable to speak any louder. “N-no. He doesn’t know I’m h-here. Roman doesn’t let me in the Imagination. It was an, an accident.”

Pride’s eyebrows shot up. “An accident? Is that what happened, little one?” He raised a hand to his chin and Virgil got a good look at the sharp red nails that looked a little like talons. “I fail to see how this is an accident. Explain it to me.”

Virgil sat up straighter, pulling his knees up to his chest in an attempt to comfort himself. He was not in a position to not answer a simple question just because he was terrified scared. “I was checking out the boundaries of the Light Side,” he muttered, “to make sure that Deceit wasn’t sneaking around again.”

Virgil had expected a lot of things. He had expected more questions or maybe even torture for getting in the way of a Dark Side. What he didn’t expect was a grin to stretch across Pride’s face.

“You’re the little Side whose been giving Deceit so much trouble? Shooing him away from the boundaries?” Pride asked. He smiled wider when Virgil nodded shyly and Pride plopped down on the bed, keeping plenty of space between the two of them. “With the way Deceit’s been grumbling, I would’ve thought you would a lot taller. More muscle too. Maybe with a big sword like the one Prince Pompous has.”

The nickname for Roman made a startled snort burst out of Virgil and he quickly held a hand up to hide his smile. For a brief moment, he had forgotten that he was Pride’s prisoner.

Pride huffed out a little laugh and he shook his head. “I simply can’t believe that a little Side like you have been defending the Light Side so well.” Pride quickly held up his hands in defence. “Not that I would ever attack the Light Side. The only one who ever does that is Deceit and even he has no plans to truly attack it. He just likes to cause some mischief.”

“Yeah, well,” Virgil shrugged and glanced away, “I’m quick. Quicker than that snake.”

That answer sent Pride into a laughing fit, absolutely startling Virgil out of his skin. Pride threw his head back and clapped his hands on his knees and howled with laughter. Virgil stared at Pride in shock. Pride’s horns were practically quivering with the amount of laughing Pride was doing.

It took about a minute but Pride finally stopped laughing and looked directly at Virgil. Virgil’s breath caught. Before he had only been only to catch a glimpse of the other Side’s face but now he could make out every single detail, including the dark red lipstick that Pride had used on himself.

Pride must’ve noticed his, rather obvious, staring because he leaned a little closer. “So, Why weren’t you with the other Light Sides on their little bonding day?” He asked with a little smirk. “Why would they allow someone as precious as you out of their sight for even a moment?”

Pride’s words might’ve been meant as light and teasing, but all it did was remind Virgil just exactly how much the other Light Sides actually liked him and he looked away, biting his lip. Pride frowned and moved to try and catch Virgil’s eyes. “Little lamb?”

Virgil shook his head once and his hands curled into fists. He kept his gaze down on the bedspread and didn’t speak.

Pride waited for an answer and sighed dramatically when he didn’t get one. “Very well, little Anxiety. You may stay here for tonight and then you can be on your way tomorrow.” Virgil finally looked up at him.

“But,” Virgil protested, “what if Roman finds out I’m here? I’m not allowed in the Imagination!”

But, his protests were waved away by well-manicured hands. “Oh, don’t you worry about that,” Pride said with a smirk. “Creativity may have more power over the Imagination but the Imagination is big and he stretches his power far. I prefer to keep my powers in my land. He won’t know a thing, I promise you.”

Those last words about no one knowing he was here sent Virgil’s heart pumping a little but he managed to take a deep breath. ‘Pride said I can leave tomorrow,’ he reminded himself. ‘Wait until then before you start panicking.’ It didn’t help his peace of mind much but it did help him from panicking too much.

Pride stood up and smoothed down his robes. “Please feel free to explore my castle, though I’d suggest getting some sleep. You look positively exhausted, little lamb.”

Virgil looked over to the door suspiciously. He didn’t know how he thought about the door being open for anyone to be able to just walk on in when he was sleeping. The thought made his insides squirm.

Pride followed his gaze and he nodded. “There are guards from my own Kingsguard at your door. They will not enter your room unless they suspect you’re in danger. You are my guest here tonight.”

“How different is that from being a prisoner?” Virgil asked with a little edge in his voice.

The edge seemed to surprise Pride but also amuse him. He laughed and started making his way out of Virgil’s room “Ohhh, the little kitten has some claws. Don’t you worry. Being a guest in my castle is very different from being a prisoner. For one,” he looked back at Virgil, pausing at the door, “they’re not allowed to keep their comfort items.”

Virgil scrunched up his face. “Comfort items? What the heck are you talking about?”

Pride chuckled and pointed one of his fingers over at the hoodie drying out by the dryer. “I was told that you were clutching at your hoodie when you were brought here and hissed at one of my guards when they attempted to take it from you to dry it properly.” He left before Virgil could say anything back.

Virgil stared at the door for a few minutes and then slowly laid back down on the bed. He was sleeping here for the night, there was no way around that. Virgil would just have to be vigilant for now. No matter what Pride said, and Virgil did think that he was telling the truth, that didn’t mean that his guards wouldn’t listen to him and not come into Virgil’s room to hurt him in the middle of the night.

Virgil pulled his pillow to his chest and took a deep breath. This was going to be a long night.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“Ser Anxiety!”

  Virgil’s eyes snapped open and he looked over to the door where someone was knocking. Unfortunately, he didn’t have the pleasure of not remembering what happened the day before. Virgil remembered each second of what happened and it only helped him a little from freaking out about being in a strange room. As it was, Virgil could feel himself tensing up.

  “Ser Anxiety!” The knocking came again and Virgil shied back into his bed. “I was told to wake you, Ser Anxiety! King Pride wishes to have a meal with you before you take your leave!”

  Virgil swallowed and slipped out of bed. “Coming,” he called. Virgil winced when his voice cracked. Virgil’s hands were shaking a little so it took a few seconds for him to open up the door when he reached it.

On the other side was one of the Dragons from last night. They came up to Virgil’s knees but Virgil had no doubt that this tiny, baby blue Dragon could absolutely destroy him if he wanted.

The Dragon bowed. “Ser Anxiety, good morning. I use the pronouns he/him, sir.” He nudged the pile of clothes that had been laid between the two of them. “King Pride had clothes made for you to wear for your journey. He’s asked for you to wear them to breakfast.”

Virgil’s stomach twisted and he glanced over to his now dried hoodie. The Dragon caught what he was looking at and he nudged the clothes again. “Lord Pride said that he would not be offended if you tied your hoodie around your waist or shoulders.”

Virgil let out a relieved breath and crouched down, scooping the pile of clothes in his arms. “Okay. Uh, thanks. I’ll be right out.”

The Dragon nodded and backed up. He turned his back to Virgil and sat down, seemingly prepared to wait for him. Virgil closed the doors and sighed. Okay, this was almost over. Just one breakfast with a Dark Side and it’d be done.

He changed into his new clothes quickly and awkwardly left his jeans and T-Shirt folded on his bed. He glanced down at his new clothes and sighed in relief. It was not as flashy as Pride’s own outfit, thank God for that. He was wearing a pair of dark black pants and a royal purple, button up shirt with black buttons. Pride had gifted him with a pair of comfortable black boots that somehow fit Virgil’s style perfectly.

Virgil picked up his black hoodie and tried it around his waist. He really wished that he had finished his new black and purple hoodie but it was still hanging half-finished in the closet in his room. So he had to deal with old reliable.

The Dragon was in the same spot Virgil had left him and glanced up when the door opened. “Follow me, please.”

Virgil followed the Dragon through the halls and tried his best to keep mental notes on which way they kept turning. But, the castle was so big that Virgil really didn’t think it made a difference. So he kept following his Dragon guard until he stopped outside large, ornate doors and bowed to Virgil again.

“Ser Anxiety,” he said, “King Pride is waiting inside for you. He is looking forward to dining with you.”

Virgil took a deep breath and curled his fingers in his hoodie, grounding himself. “Yeah, alright. Uh, thank you for bringing me here.” He nodded awkwardly to the Dragon and then pushed the doors open, stepping inside.

Pride was seated at the head of a long table that was probably meant more for feasts than a for a breakfast for two. There was only one other chair and it was the one closest to Pride. Virgil stood there for a moment, not knowing what to say, but then Pride caught notice of him and stood up beaming. Pride’s blue tail was swishing behind him happily.

“Ah, Anxiety!” He smiled at the Anxious Side and beckoned him closer. “Please join me for some food, my little lamb.”

Virgil walked up to him, digging his nails into his palms nervously. Pride watched him approach and frowned when he saw how stiffly Virgil was walking. “Is everything alright, little one?”

"Yeah,” Virgil mumbled. “I’m good.”

Pride’s eyes narrowed and he tilted his head. “Do I make you nervous, little kitten?”

The cutesy nickname made Virgil scowl and he glared at Pride. “Don’t call me that,” he snapped, seconds before thinking that snapping at the Side whose castle he was in with hundreds of Dragon guards was probably a bad idea.

Luckily, Pride just seemed amused by Virgil’s insolence and laughed. “Of course, little one. Sit down and join me for a meal. I had my servants make some breakfast for you before you head on your way.”

Virgil gulped and nodded. Pride drew out his chair from him and pushed it in when Virgil sat down. Virgil watched Pride sit down and his tail sliding through a little hole in the back.

Pride snapped his fingers and plates appeared in front of them both with two pieces of toast with a poached egg on each and a kipper next to them on the plates. “Please, dig in.”

Virgil picked up his fork and knife and cut through one of the eggs, watching it spill out onto the toast. Pride cut off a piece of kipper and ran it through some of the yolk from his own broken egg. “So, Anxiety, you seemed quite upset when I mentioned the Light Sides earlier. Care to share?”

Virgil’s answer was a blunt, “No.” He bit into his piece of toast and narrowed his eyes at Pride. “Why are you asking?”

Pride shrugged. “I am curious on why the other Light Sides would allow such a precious Side like you out into the Subconscious alone. And, Deceit has mentioned several times that you seem like an outcast in our dear Thomas’ videos.”

Virgil glared at him and just barely managed to hold back a hiss. “And so what about it?”

Pride took another bite of his kipper and smirked at Virgil. “Well, as I said, little Anxiety, I’m curious. You are such an essential part of Thomas and yet the others don’t seem to treasure you as such.”

Virgil’s heart started to pound and he swallowed. “What is this?” He hissed. “What, is this some sort of recruitment thing? You want me to betray the Light Sides?”

“First of all,” Pride cut in, pointing his fork full of kipper at Virgil, “I would never ask that of you. Not only would that do nothing for me, as I know you would refuse, but also I have no reason to do that.”

Virgil crossed his arms and huffed. “You’re Roman’s Dark Side though!”

Pride tilted his head and furrowed his eyebrows. “Um, yes? I fail to see what this has anything to do with this, Anxiety.”

“It has everything to do with this!” Virgil snapped, waving his arms around. “You’re a Dark Side! Roman’s always talking about how he fights against you to stop trying to take Thomas over, just like the other Dark Sides!”

Pride frowned and when he next spoke, his voice had a bit of an edge to it. “Really? And, why do you believe that we’re attempting to take Thomas over? Have we ever attacked the Light Side? Have we ever done anything terrible to Thomas besides doing our job?”

Virgil flinched back at the hard tone and held onto his fork a little tighter. “No,” he muttered.

Pride seemed to soften at Virgil’s flinch and sighed. “I apologize for snapping, little one. It should be assumed that you would have a negative view of us if you have to listen to his comments all the time.

Virgil crossed his arms. “If this is going to be a big speech about how I should come over and be a Dark Side then you can save it.”

Pride stared at Virgil for a few seconds before bursting into laughter. He rocked back in his chair and threw his head back, horns knocking against his seat. “You!? A, a Dark Side?”

Virgil watched him and, to his surprise, felt a stab of shame. So, Virgil wasn’t good enough to be a Light Side or a Dark Side. Well, there went any drop of self-esteem Virgil had left.

Pride chuckled and wiped at his eyes. “Apologies, my little one, for my outburst. It’s just the thought of you being a Dark Side is amusing to me.”

“Why?” Virgil asked, voice trembling.

Pride narrowed his eyes and smirked playfully. “Because you’re a Light Side. It’s who you are. There’s no changing that.”

Virgil crossed his arms, getting frustrated. He couldn’t count the number of times Roman had dismissed him as being a Light Side. Even Logan and Patton agreed that Virgil was just a little too dark to be one of them. But now sat Pride, an actual Dark Side, saying that he was, 100%, a Light Side. He didn’t know who to believe. “Okay, So, what're the requirements for being a Dark Side?”

Pride shrugged. “To be frank with you, I’m not sure. I just know that you’re not one.” He looked Virgil over, giving him a sultry look. “You practically shine with light. It only adds to your beauty.”

A pink blush stained Virgil’s cheeks and he looked away. “Right,” he squeaked. “Um, yeah. So, I’m a Light Side. Got it.” Virgil put down his half-eaten piece of bread and stood up. He felt overwhelmed with all this information and Pride’s gentle teasing and flirting. “I, uh, should probably get back. Before someone notices I’m gone.”

Pride frown, obviously displeased with Virgil’s decision to leave, but nodded and stood him, his tail sliding out from the chair in a practiced motion. “Of course. I will show you to the exit. Do you require me to bring you to the main exit from the Imagination or will you be able to find it yourself?”

Virgil smirked and shook his head. A route out of the Imagination and into the Subconscious was already being drawn out in his head. “Just show me out of your Kingdom and I’ll be fine. I got my own way out.”

Pride returned Virgil’s smirk. “My, my. This little kitten just maybe slyer and sneakier than I once thought.” He took a step forward and Virgil’s breath hitched when Pride trailed his fingers down Virgil's cheek, barely touching the skin. “I will have to keep that in mind for future meetings.”

Virgil swallowed and he felt his cheeks warm under Pride’s gentle touch. “Um, right. I should,” he jabbed his thumb over his shoulder nervously, “Right.”

Pride’s smirk turned a tad teasing and mischievous. “Yes, I suppose you do. Come, I’ll show you the way.” He walked toward the exit of the dining room and Virgil had no choice but to follow. He jumped a little when a hand landed on his shoulder. Virgil glances over at Pride only to see a cocked eyebrow. The message was clear. ‘Is this okay?’

Virgil nodded shortly and without another word, Pride led him down hallways until they left the castle and came to the drawbridge. Dragons were milling around the courtyard, giving Virgil curious looks but otherwise seemingly happy to leave his to their King. Pride stopped at waved at the drawbridge. “You will find that you’ll be able to sink out of the Imagination after you’ve walked north for around an hour or two. Are you sure that you don’t want me to take you to the main exit though? It can be very difficult to sink out of the Imagination. I could explain the situation to Creativity.”

The thought of facing Roman, Roman with his sharp sword and his hatred for Anxiety, made Virgil break out into a cold sweat. “No,” he said shortly. “I’ll be fine. Um,” he glanced down at his new clothes and looked back up at Pride with a raised eyebrow. “How can I return these to you?”

Pride smiled softly at him and shook his head. “No, little one. Think of those clothes as a gift. The outfit suits you. A true Prince.”

‘Roman’s the Prince,” Virgil thought, a touch bitter. But he didn’t voice his thoughts, instead of averting his gaze and shrugging. He could feel Pride’s assessing gaze on him and finally, he said, “Thanks for letting me stay the night.”

“It was no trouble. You’re a good guest. Perhaps,” Virgil could practically hear Pride’s smile widened, “you’d like to come again sometime. I’d love to properly show you my castle.”

Virgil looked up at smirked at that Prideful Side. “You usually take prisoners on a tour of your castle?”

Pride matched Virgil’s smirk with his own. “Well, you are a special case. I rarely have prisoners so intriguing that they somehow become my guests. Especially one that I’d like to see return.” His smirk softened. “Have a safe journey, Anxiety.”

“I’ll try my best.” Virgil went to leave but stopped, a thought nagging at him. He turned back to Pride and asked, “You never asked my name.”

It had become a common occurrence over with the Light Sides. Virgil couldn’t take one step without someone asking, or what often felt like demanding when he was going to tell them his name. Virgil felt like he was going to explode out of frustration. They all wanted his name, not because they liked him, but because they wanted “the full collection”. He could practically feel Thomas’ urge to learn the name of the scary, terrible, awful Anxiety. So it was certainly a change of pace to go a full day without someone breathing down his throat about it.

Pride raised an eyebrow at him. “You didn’t offer it. Nor did you ask mine. Quid Quo pro? My name for yours?”

Virgil immediately shook his head, hunching in on himself. “No way. Not fucking happening.” His name was the only thing he had that he was proud of. Virgil, Vigilance. It was his and he would be damn if he gave it up like it was like some sort of thing that people were entitled to. It didn’t matter if that meant that he wouldn’t get to know Pride’s name. It also meant the most hidden part of himself would be safe.

“Very well, Anxiety,” Pride said, giving a careless shrug. “Perhaps another time. For now,” he dipped into a bow, giving Virgil a playful smirk, “until we meet again.”

Virgil, cheeks burning, muttered, “Yeah, can’t wait,” before he ran over the drawbridge and down a valley, leaving Pride and his castle of Dragons behind him. But, he couldn’t outrun the memory of that playful smirk.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

It took Virgil a little over two hours to leave Pride’s lands and he could feel the Mindscape open back up to him, giving him the wiggle room he needed to sink out from the Imagination back to the Subconscious. Sinking out to his room would’ve been difficult and Roman might’ve been able to feel the brief energy coming from Virgil’s part of the Mindscape. But, the Subconscious and the Imagination were connected and they mixed together often enough that Roman wouldn’t even question it.

Virgil sighed in relief when the grey fog of the Subconscious surrounded him, happy to be back in a place that he understood, even if it was an unpredictable place like the Subconscious. He gave himself a moment to rest before sinking down into his room. No need to go through the Commons and see the others eating lunch together or watching a movie, not even realizing that Virgil had disappeared for a full day. Virgil didn’t need that extra bit of heartbreak.

His room was the same as when he had left it. His bed was made and his computer waiting for him by his pillows, ready for another journey into Virgil’s favourite hellsite. His pyjamas were folded beside the computer and Virgil eagerly accepted their call, stripping out of the outfit Pride had given him and dumping it on the floor. Virgil pulled on his sweatpants and his oversized t-shirt, feeling any leftover tension just melting off of his shoulders. He sighed and went to crawl into his bed but paused, looking back down at the discarded outfit. Virgil hesitated before stooping down and quickly picking up the clothes, folding them and quickly shoving them under his bed. No need for them to be out in case someone saw them and asked where they came from.

Not that anyone ever came into Virgil’s room.

Virgil pulled his covers down and got into bed. He sighed and looked over to his computer, thinking of maybe working on his PJO fanfic, before grabbing it and placing it on his bedside table. It had been a long day and he didn’t think that he could handle Tumblr’s shitty new policies about text block limits right now.

He snapped his fingers and the lights turned off, his room pitch black except for the soft glow of the night light on the other side of his room. Virgil closed his eyes and tried his best to fall asleep.

But, all he could think of was those red eyes and that they had looked at him with more compassion and kindness than anyone else had ever had in Virgil’s life.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

As expected, no one had noticed Virgil’s leave of absence.

Virgil walked down from his room the next morning, back in his comfortable black hoodie, and into the kitchen to be met with Logan’s wary stare. Somehow, even though Logan was nervous around him, he still managed to be condescending. “Ah, Anxiety. Finally decided to leave your room and be productive, hmm?”

Virgil didn’t answer beside a grunt, opening up the fridge and pulling out the plain, black water bottle he had stored in there. Logan watched him and sniffed. No doubt he thought Virgil was drinking blood or something equally as disgusting

Whatever. He could think whatever he wanted as long as he left Virgil and his honey and strawberry smoothie alone.

“Thomas has a meeting with his friends today,” Logan said, sitting down at the kitchen table. “I trust you won’t be present for it, correct?”

Virgil bit back a sigh and nodded. “Yep,” he muttered. He took a sip of his smoothie and then sneered at Logan. “I’ll be out of your hair, don’t worry. Wouldn’t want Anxiety ruining Thomas’ day.”

Logan nodded. He took a long sip of his coffee and then said dryly, “Quite right. I applaud you using your brain for something more than thinking of new ways of, as you said, ruining Thomas’ day.”

Virgil turned away to hide how his face tightened a little at that comment. He shrugged and went to leave the kitchen but was blocked by Roman stepping into the kitchen and leaning against the doorframe. Virgil’s eye twitched a little. He was so not in the mood for this today. “Mind moving, Princey?”

“Certainly, Robert Downer Jr. “ Roman smiled mockingly down at him. He moved and waved his arm with a flourish. “By all means.”

Virgil moved past him, ignoring the face Roman made as he left him and Logan alone. He pushed down the bitter feeling that came with him knowing that he’d be spending the rest of the day alone again. Just what he wanted, he tried to convince himself. He was probably going to need a day to fully get his mind back on straight after the day he had before.

Patton was going down the stairs and gave Virgil a happy little wave when he saw him. “Morning, Anxiety! I’m glad to see you today!”

Virgil mustered up a smile for the one Side in the Light Side that tolerated him. “Morning, Patton. Good day so far?”

“Yeppers!” Patton grinned. He grabbed Virgil’s hand and smiled hopefully. “I missed you yesterday. You’ll be staying outside with us today, right?”

Guilt settled in Virgil’s stomach and he shook his head. “Not today, Pat. Thomas got friends coming over and no need for any anxiety to get in the way of that, right?”

Patton sighed and shook his head. “I guess you’re right.” Virgil forced back tears at those words and his smile wavered a little. He moved up the stairs before Patton could see just how much trouble Virgil was having holding back tears. Not that he’d even think that something he said might hurt Virgil. Anxiety was a bad guy and bad guys didn’t get their feelings hurt.

“But you’ll come downstairs for dinner, right?”

Virgil could hear the tentative hope in Patton’s voice and he pushed down the urge to immediately agree to anything Patton asked of him. “I dunno, Patton,” he sighed, stopping at the top of the stairs. “I don’t think Logan or Princey would want me there, you know?”

Patton’s voice hardened. “I don’t care if they want you there or not! You’re my friend and I want you there. Please, Anxiety? Come to dinner?” There was a long pause. “Please?”

Virgil closed his eyes and found himself nodding. “Yeah, alright. I’ll be down for dinner tonight.”

“Promise?”

“Promise.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Virgil did not end up going downstairs for dinner that night. And it was all because Virgil couldn’t handle a stupid argument between friends.

As much as Virgil had tried to remove himself from the situation with Thomas and his friends by staying up in his room all day, he was still a part of Thomas and he couldn’t just shut himself off. He would always be there with Thomas and it wasn’t his fault that when Thomas and Terence started arguing about something so damn stupid that Virgil couldn’t even remember what it was, Virgil started panicking.

“He’s going to leave you,” Virgil whispered, curled up on his bed with his hands tangled in his hair. “Oh fuck, he’s going to leave and then everyone else is going to leave and we’ll be all alone.”

The lights in Virgil’s room flicked and the shadows seemed to extend toward him. And it certainly didn’t help that Roman came up to Virgil’s room, banging on Virgil’s door and screaming at him to stop ruining movie night.

Yep. Virgil not only had to try to deal with the fact that one of Thomas’ best friends would be dumping him soon, but he also had Princey to deal with. Needless to say, Virgil had a difficult and stressful day. And after Patton and Logan had finally managed to pull Roman away from Virgil’s door, calming him down with promises of a movie night with only Disney movies, Patton had returned.

“Hey, Kiddo,” Patton called through the door. “I don’t think it’s a good idea for you to come downstairs for dinner tonight. Roman’s pretty upset about what happened.”

Judging from his tone, Patton wasn’t too happy either. Virgil closed his eyes and curled up tighter on his bed. He hadn’t meant to make such a mess. He never meant to.

Patton kept talking, words a little gentler. “I’m going to leave a plate of dinner outside, okay, Anxiety? I made meatloaf and veg tonight with some boiled potatoes. I really hope you like it!”

‘I hate boiled potatoes,’ Virgil thought distantly with no real force. Instead, he buried his face in his pillow, just waiting for Patton to leave him alone in his misery. He just wanted to sleep and have this day be over already.

Back outside, Patton heaved a heavy sigh. “I just I’ll see you tomorrow, Anxiety. I love you.”

‘Liar,’ Virgil thought, tears burning in his eyes. ‘I love you too.’

With that, Virgil heard another small sigh and footsteps walking away from his room. The smell of meatloaf wafted into Virgil’s room but he couldn’t find it in him to get out of bed and get it. He just laid there staring up at his ceiling, wishing that Pride’s Dragons were there to just end his suffering. Or maybe Pride himself. He could turn into a Dragon, or Virgil was pretty sure that he could.

He laid there for who knows how long until Virgil felt a gentle tugging like someone was trying to summon him. Virgil blinked his eyes open and tried to wave the tugging away. He so wasn’t in the mood to deal with Thomas asking what the heck the extra anxiety during the fight with Terrence was about.

But the tugging wasn’t Thomas or the Light Sides. No, it was different. It was gentler but not the demanding tug that he felt from any of the others. It was a presence that he wasn’t used to but it was familiar. It was Pride. Pride was summoning him. But why? And should he go to him?

Virgil stared up at the ceiling for a few more minutes before sighing. Really, why not go at this point? What was here for him? Cold meatloaf and boiled potatoes? Another night alone? At least this way, even if it was a trap from the Dark Side, Virgil wouldn’t have to be alone with his thoughts anymore.

Besides, maybe seeing Pride again would get rid of the strange knot of emotions forming in Virgil’s gut whenever he thought of him.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Sneaking through the Imagination was easy as always. Especially now since he had a place that he could focus on and imagine in his head. As it took was five minutes of walking through the Subconscious with the image of Pride’s castle at the forefront of his mind for the mist of the Subconscious to clear and Virgil’s destination to appear just a short five-minute walk away. Already, Virgil could see the dragons flying in the air and, standing in front of the gate waiting for him, was the Dragon Witch himself.

Pride gave Virgil a welcoming smile. "Ah, little lamb! And here I thought that you wouldn't be coming."

Virgil had his hands stuffed in his hoodie pockets and slouched over nervously, the stress from the day still eating at him. "Well, you called," he said, trying to put even a little enthusiasm into his words. Judging by how Pride's smile didn't fall, Virgil guessed that he may have succeeded.

"I did call." Pride took a step forward and offered his arm, his tail flicking through the grass happily. "I remember offering to take you on a tour of my castle. And I find myself lacking company tonight." One of his eyebrows was raised and his lips quirked up into a little affectionate smirk. "And I couldn't think of better than my little lamb."

Virgil cursed the blush that was already staining his cheeks and avoided Pride's gaze, placing a hand on Pride's arm. "Couldn't think of better company other than Anxiety? Jeez, you must be really lonely."

Pride pouted, drawing Virgil's attention to his cherry-red painted lips. "Who else would I call? Deceit? He might have an eye for art but that Side wouldn't know good conversation if it bit him in the ass. I mean, really, philosophy is good and all but I'd like to talk about something else for once!"

Virgil bit down on his lip to cut off any laughter that had been forming. The thought of Deceit, a Side who Virgil only knew from ushering him away from the Light Side, waxing poetic about philosophy was almost amusing. He would never have pegged Deceit as one to like philosophy like Pride was suggesting. "Well," he muttered with a smirk, "I don't know how much better I'll be. I'm not," he swallowed and glanced away. "I'm not feeling the best right now."

But Pride only shrugged carelessly. "Perfectly fine. Actually, I've been told that my voice can be rather soothing so it's really fortunate that you've come." He winked at Virgil flirtatiously. "You just listen to my dulcet tones and you'll be feeling better in no time."

Virgil snorted and shook his head, following Pride into his castle. For some reason, the guilt, misery, and fear from the fight with Terrence and what had happened afterward disappeared almost as soon as Pride started talking. It didn't take long for Virgil to figure out why. It wasn't often that someone talked to him without even a nervous glance in his direction or a hint of snideness or fear in their voice.

But here Pride was, chattering away about his castle, his subjects, and complaining about Deceit and the other Dark Sides without any nerves or fearful glances. He didn't even try and keep Virgil at arm's length, letting him walk right next to him with his hand still on his arm.

It made something in Virgil's chest tighten and made his eyes a little wet.

"So, Anxiety. Just what has you looking like a kicked puppy and would you like me to kill it for you?"

The two of them had moved into a cushy and cozy den with armchairs placed near a roaring fireplace. Pride was sitting back in his with all the grace of a King, his arms on the arms of the chair and legs crossed daintily. Meanwhile, Virgil was curled up in his own chair with his legs pulled tight up to his chest and arms wrapped around his legs.

Virgil blinked at him numbly. “What? No, I’m fine.” His eyes flicked down when Pride raised an eyebrow incredulously. “I’m fine.”

“Sure,” Pride drawled. “Really, I don’t know why you’d be okay. I mean, Deceit was positively furious about what happened with Terrence. And Shame was in tears. The poor dear cried herself to sleep.” He waved a hand toward Virgil. “From how anxious Thomas was and still is, I’m guessing that you’re not doing too well either.”

Virgil curled into a tighter ball and his lips turned down into a scowl. “Yeah,” he muttered. “It’s all my fault. Evil Anxiety ruined everything like always. Just ruined the whole day Thomas had planned with Terrence.” He dug his nails into his legs. “That’s what you get when you have a Villain in your head.”

Pride narrowed his eyes and leaned forward, uncrossing his legs. “And, just how is this your fault? You didn’t start the argument with Terrence nor are you responsible for how Thomas is feeling now.” He tapped his fingernails against the arms of the chair. “Why would you think that?”

“Because it’s always my fault,” Virgil said bitterly. The day that he had just had, the snide comments from Logan, the mocking words from Roman, the fight with Terrence, and the disappointment from Patton caught up to him all at once and then he was fighting back tears. “Thomas got anxious about that stupid, goddamn fight and I ruined the entire night because I kept freaking out and, and,” he trailed off and scrubbed at his eyes furiously. “It was just so fucking stupid and now we’re going to lose one of our best friends!”

Pride chuckled and waved a hand in dismissal. “We’re not going to lose Terrence over such a silly argument. He’s our friend after all.”

Virgil glared at Pride, barely holding back his tears. “We fucked up! Terrence would be an idiot if he didn’t get the hell away from us! We always ruin everything!” He threw his hands up in the air, getting worked up now. “He’s gonna leave and then all of Thomas’ other friends are gonna leave too and we’ll be all alone and Thomas will be ruined!”

Pride tilted his head and narrowed his eyes. “Hmm, but why? Terrence and Thomas have had many, many arguments in the past. He’s had arguments with all of his friends before and they’ve all stayed.” A proud grin grew on his face. “Thomas does have rather brilliant friends, doesn’t he?”

“Well, yeah, duh,” Virgil said, blinking at Pride in confusion and a few tears escaping him. “That’s obvious but,”

“So,” Pride continued, leaning forward and wiping away Virgil’s tears with his thumb, Virgil too surprised to stop him. “If our friends are so brilliant and loyal,” he raised an eyebrow. “They are loyal, aren’t they?”

“Of course they are,” Virgil snapped, insulted that Pride would even suggest that.

“And they love Thomas.”

Virgil glanced down at the ground, feeling small and stupid as he got what Pride was trying to explain to him. “And they love Thomas,” he muttered.

Pride smiled at him, soft and kind. “Exactly, little lamb. They love Thomas and that means that none of them, Terrence included, are going to leave us.” He chuckled, not mean or cruel but kind and soft. “They’re not going anywhere, little lamb, I promise.”

Virgil closed his eyes and his shame for overreacting, again, heightened “Right,” he muttered. He suddenly felt stupid, feeling so stupid and terribly that he went to a Dark Side, the Dragon Witch, for company. The armchair he had been sitting jerked as Virgil stood up abruptly. “I-I should go.”

Pride stood up too, tail sliding out of the hole in the armchair easily. He frowned at Virgil in something that Virgil could almost read as concern. “Go? But why? You just got here not that long ago.” He stepped forward, tilting his head and narrowing his eyes. “Is anything alright, Anxiety? You’re looking positively pale.”

Virgil shook his head, his hands shaking and his gut twisting. “No, I should leave,” he muttered. “Sorry, this whole thing was stupid, I was just being so damn stupid coming here, getting upset. Sorry, I should yeah,” he turned to leave but Pride caught his hand in a tight hold.

“Anxiety,” Pride said, said in a tone that was far gentler than Virgil was used to hearing. “What’s wrong? Tell me, little one. What happened? Tell me what ailed you and I will kill it, I swear it.”

Virgil avoided Pride’s eyes and swallowed down the bile that had risen at the Dragon Witch’s words. Roman had forever ruined that phrase for him with the fear that one day the Prince would find what ailed Thomas, Virgil, and kill him. It was something that kept Virgil up most nights. And in the hopes to change the subject as quickly as he could, Virgil spat out the first thing that came to his mind. “You’re a Witch!”

Embarrassment and horror quickly followed and Virgil wanted to sink through the floor and die. ‘Great thing to say, really,’ Virgil thought. ‘It’s obvious and it shows just how awkward and stupid you are. Brilliant Virgil, you’re just brilliant.’

Thankfully, Pride just smirked and nodded. “A Dragon Witch,” he said, bowing his head a little to show off his horns. His tail twitched a little like he was pleased that Virgil had noticed. “A King too but we were talking about me being a Dragon Witch, not a King.” He smiled at Virgil and chuckled. “I’d offer a demonstration but it’s all rather startling, turning into a Dragon and all. But, perhaps instead I could offer you a quiet dinner and a room for the night?”

“I should get back to the Light Side,” Virgil said reluctantly, not really wanting to go back to his room and eat the, by now cold, meatloaf and boiled potatoes. Hearing the others downstairs having their fun, family movie night would only make it worse. “In case anyone misses me.”

Pride’s lips dipped down into a perfect pout. “Oh, stay, please. I’m so much more fun than boring old Princey and the other Light Sides. Besides, and I hope you won’t mind me saying this, but you seem almost as lonely as I do.” He tilted his head. “Just a few hours and maybe a quick dinner? Please?”

Something squirmed in Virgil’s gut, weird and different and something that Virgil had never felt before. It felt almost exactly like the saying that Patton liked to toss around every so often. Like he had butterflies in his stomach.

“Um, just for a bit,” Virgil stuttered. “I guess that that would be okay, I guess.” He glanced down, having trouble looking right into Pride’s eyes for some reason.

“Perfect,” Pride cheered, pulling Virgil to his side. Virgil choked a little on his spit, his whole face turning pink. “Come, let’s have some dinner! Though, we must have you in proper clothing. After all, I made my little corner of the imagination a castle for a reason. Do you have those clothes I made for you?”

Virgil swallowed nervously and nodded. “Um, y-yeah. Just let me, um, yeah.” He snapped his fingers and the pile of clothes that Pride had given him landed on the chair that he had just been sitting in.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Roman jerked up with a frown on his face, his connection to the imagination rippling with a strange energy. Patton frowned up at him from where he was cuddling with Logan on the couch. “Roro? Is something wrong, Kiddo?”

“Um,” Roman blinked and tried to focus on the energy he had felt. But the energy was already fading and he couldn’t get a grip on it. “Nothing, nothing. Probably just one of Pride’s stupid Dragons getting near my edge of the Imagination again.” He shook his head and pulled at his sash thoughtfully. “Probably nothing.”

He’d look into it later. A movie night with his family was much more important than some stupid, strange energy in the Imagination. Yes, later. He’d look into it later.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Pride had left him in the sitting room to let him get dressed and once Virgil was back in the clothes that the Dragon Witch had made for him, with his black hoodie wrapped around his waist, Pride led him back to the same room where they had eaten the day before. “I know that we had breakfast last night, pretty odd since it was rather late when we ate it, but I had my Dragons cook up a proper dinner for us tonight. I know that you’ll love it!”

Virgil had his hand back on Pride’s arm and was doing his best to talk through the utter squirming in his chest. “Bet,” he mumbled, wincing at the stupid word choice but Pride just laughed affectionately and the end of his tail wrapped around Virgil’s wrist.

“Bet,” Pride echoed. He led Virgil over to the table, sliding the chair out for Virgil before walking around the long table to sit across from him. Plates and a glass full of some dark liquid appeared right in front of them both almost as soon as Pride sat down and Virgil’s mouth watered at the smell and the sight

Pride chuckled at the look on Virgil’s face and he gestured to him. “Are you going to eat it or just stare at it all day, my little lamb?” He picked up his own knife and fork, cutting into his steak with ease.

Virgil swallowed and followed suit. “Right, right. Um, thanks.” He cut into his own steak, eyeing the salad on the side with hungry eyes. There were no potatoes on this plate and Virgil was about two minutes from promising to never leave if Pride was going to make him food like this at every meal.

Hell, he was two minutes from promising that anyways if Pride kept up the kindness and not treating Virgil like he was evil incarnate.

“So, you’re Pride,” he said, trying and failing miserably at starting a conversation.

“And you’re Anxiety,” Pride said back. He smirked at Virgil, sending a spark through Virgil’s heart. “A Dark Side and a Light Side sitting down for dinner together. Strange, isn’t it?” He leaned forward and cocked an eyebrow. “Something that I’d like to do more often. Especially with my favourite little lamb.”

Virgil’s face warmed and he glanced away, biting off another of steak just so he wouldn’t say something weird and make things awkward. But the bite of steak was eventually eaten and Virgil had to say something. “So, why Dragons?”

Why Dragons. Virgil was one of the stupidest Sides in existence, it was proven.

Pride only shrugged and started swirling his glass around. “Why not? I admire them. They know what’s there and they protect them. If you think about it, you’re a bit of a Dragon too.”

That really shouldn't hurt Virgil as much as it did, especially since the comment was meant as praise and given by a Side who willingly called himself the Dragon Witch. But, after hearing all about how Dragons were villains and evil from Roman, the comment certainly stung. Virgil could barely cut his steak again, his hands were shaking so much. “From what Prince Pompous told me, that’s not much of a compliment,” he muttered.

“But why not?” Pride took a sip from his glass and raised an eyebrow. “What’s so bad about Dragons? Like I said, they know what’s theirs and who they are. They’re proud of what they have and who they are. To me, that’s a good thing.”

Virgil stared down at his plate, appetite quickly leaving him. “But I'm not proud,” he said softly. “Not of myself, of my stuff, of anything. How am I a Dragon?”

“First of all,” Pride said with a little frown. “You should be proud of yourself. You’re one of the Sides who protect Thomas and all of us. How many times would Thomas have died if you hadn’t been there?”

Virgil said nothing so Pride continued, pointing his fork at Virgil. “Secondly, you are a Dragon. Dragons protect what are theirs and you do that every single day by just being you.”

“By...just being me?”

Pride’s entire demeanour seemed to soften and he smiled at Virgil gently, making Virgil’s heart flipped. “Yes, my dear Anxiety. Just by being you.”

Dinner passed quickly after that and Virgil found himself disappointed when he glanced at his phone and realized that it was eleven o’clock. He winced. Ugh, the others would be finished up with their movie night by now and it would be almost impossible to leave the Imagination since Roman liked strolling through the Imagination before he went to bed. Not completely impossible but it would be annoyingly hard.

Thankfully, Pride refused to even hear of Virgil leaving his Kingdom that late. “Not a chance,” Pride huffed. “Let you leave at this time of night? No, that is out of the question. I’ll escort you to your room for the night and you can sleep here. I’ll have the same guards that guarded your room the last time do so again. Good? Good.”

So that’s how Virgil found himself spending yet another night at a castle crawling with Dragons and ruled by a Dragon Witch. But, it was only for the night. It wasn’t like he’d ever go back.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Virgil kept going back.

Honestly, it wasn’t his fault. Pride’s kindness was like a fucking drug and Virgil was high off of it. After years of getting nothing but snide comments, fear, and Patton’s wary care, being talked to like he was an actual person felt like being on cloud nine all the damn time. Pride could be actual confess to manipulating him and Virgil would probably be completely fine with it as long as Pride kept up talking to him, giving him little hugs, and calling him “Little Lamb”.

Yeah. Virgil was so fucking pathetic.

It started getting to the point where Virgil spent almost all of his time with the Dark Side, not leaving Pride’s side of the Imagination unless Thomas needed him for a video. If the other Light Sides noticed anything amiss then they didn’t say anything. Thankfully, Roman didn't seem to notice the brief energy from Virgil stupidly summoning his clothes from his room, which took a huge weight off of Virgil’s shoulders.

Virgil’s life had actually started getting a little better after meeting Pride. Having someone to talk to and actually listen to him and his concerns was something that Virgil had been looking for since he had manifested and had been denied every single day of his life. He was trying to look a little more on the “light side”, especially with Pride there to talk him through any concerns he had. It felt like, for once in his life, Virgil was actually in a good place.

And then came the cartoon episode and everything came crashing down around him.

Every good thing that had been happening in Virgil’s life seemed utterly insignificant in light of what had happened. Having one of his dreams of being a cartoon, a dream that he should have known better than to share with the other, and having it twisted to be where he was a villain again was like a slap back to reality. He wasn’t good, he wasn’t soft or a protector like Pride insisted. He was a villain and villains never got redemption stories. They didn’t get good things or people who listened to them and helped calm them down from panic attacks or stupid thoughts. They were forced to fly, Virgil hated heights, and got punched by the person that they were trying to protect.

So was it really surprising that when the video ended, Virgil walked straight to his room and locked it from the inside, intent on throwing away the key? After how far he was pushed? After everything that he had been through? Was it really surprising that he no longer wanted to be hated and to be holding Thomas back?

He was useless, he was evil, he was done. Virgil couldn’t do this anymore. So as soon as he had locked the door, he placed the key on his bed, cut himself off from Thomas, grabbed his new purple and black hoodie, and sunk down into the unconscious, intent on walking through the unconscious forever.

But, of course, it didn’t go Virgil’s way. Why the hell would it? No, nothing ever went Anxiety’s way. Only after walking five minutes through the unconscious, someone settled in by Virgil’s side, walking with him. Virgil didn’t even flinch. He had with this person far too much to not recognize his energy signature by now. “Hey,” he croaked.

“Hello,” Pride hummed. His tail reached up, wrapping around Virgil’s waist. “I was watching the most recent video.” The tail tightened around Virgil’s waist. “I’ve never seen one before. The way they treated you.” He stopped them both and gently turned Virgil around and brushed a gentle thumb under Virgil’s black eye while cupping Virgil’s cheek with his other hand. “I once offered to kill whatever ails you. The fact that the things that ails you are the other Light Sides doesn’t change this in the slightest. Say the word and I’ll destroy them for you, I swear it, my dear Prince.”

Virgil’s throat tightened at Pride’s words and his lower lip wobbled a little. “No,” he whispered, leaning into Pride’s hand. “No, don’t kill them. T-they’re r-right, I’m a v-v-villain and they’re, they’re,” the words died and he trailed off. The Dragon Witch and Anxiety were silent for a few moments, the fog of the Unconscious drifting around them.

“Come with me,” Pride whispered. “You’ve cut yourself off from Thomas, I can feel it. I can’t stop you from doing this but I can protect you.” His red eyes stared at Virgil pleadingly. “Please, come with me, Anxiety. Please.”

Virgil closed his eyes, feeling small and hopeless in this one moment and as if the only person who cared for him was Pride. Like Pride was the only person in the entire world who loved him. Not that that was exactly wrong. And in that one moment, he could think of only one thing to say. “Virgil.”

The hand that had been brushing Virgil’s thumb fell from Virgil’s face in surprise and the hand on his cheek loosened. “Virgil,” Pride repeated. The name was drawn out and spoken with such love and gentleness that Virgil almost cried. “Virgil. Virgil, my Prince, my little lamb.” His tail pulled Virgil a little closer to him and Pride rested his forehead against the Anxious Side’s. “My name is Adam, my dear Anxiety. And Adam the Dragon Witch, Thomas’ Pride, ruler of the Dragon Kingdom, will care for you from now on, my Dear.”

Virgil opened his eyes and looked up at Adam with teary eyes.“I forgot the clothes you gave me in my room,” Virgil croaked.

“I’ll make you new ones,” Adam promised. “Clothes fit for the Prince you are.”

And with that, Adam the Dragon Witch pulled Virgil down into his Kingdom to rest.

[winchester-fantasies]

Ritual

Summary: While hunkering down on a case, you and Dean strike up an unusual ritual.

Word Count: 3977

Warnings: smut, mutual masturbation, fingering, some dirty talk, semi-public sex, a little bit of fluff, swearing

Pairing: Dean x Female!Reader

Winchester Fantasies’ Masterlist

     Everything around you was dark as you cautiously made your way across the room, waiting for your eyes to adjust to your surroundings. You blindly reached your arms out in front of you, searching for anything as a sign of your surroundings. The ball of your foot stepped over the hardwood floor, the floorboards creaking in that familiar way that told you you were almost to your bed. 

     You became more confident you knew where you were going, and you let your arms fall to your sides. You took another step forward, but you yelped in pain as your knee suddenly came in contact with something solid and hard. 

     “Shit!” you hissed, grabbing your leg and rubbing roughly over the aching spot. You reached down, your fingers grazing the object that had inflicted so much pain, silently chiding yourself when you realized you'd miscalculated your direction and had run into the coffee table instead.

     “You okay?” Dean's gruff and sleep coated voice whispered in the dark.

     You nearly jumped at the sound, quickly veering to the right and jumping onto the couch that had become your bed and curling up under the heavy quilt. “Y...yeah,” you stammered, your heart pounding. “Had to get a drink of water. Sorry for waking you.” 

     “Nah, it's okay,” Dean said, his voice sounding more awake now. “Haven't really been able to sleep much tonight anyway.”

     “How come?” you asked quietly, mindful that Sam was sleeping just upstairs in the open loft.

     “Ya know,” Dean commented vaguely. “Just...everything.”

     You nodded, even though he couldn't see you. “Yeah, I get it,” you said, thinking back over the last few eventful days. You and the boys had been on a demon hunt when your covers had been compromised. You'd quickly been outnumbered so you ran, fleeing to one of Bobby's old safe houses. You'd warded the shit out of the place almost as soon as you'd arrived and now you were laying low for a few days while you tried to figure out what your next move should be.

     Thankfully this safe house was one that Bobby had used quite often so there were a few lore books, weapons and hunting supplies, food and water, and even holy water. You and Sam had been scouring the books for days and Dean had even made a few calls to a few older and more experienced hunters he knew. However, after nearly three days and no breaks, you were beginning to wonder if you'd ever get yourselves out of this mess.

     “Do you think we'll make it out?” you asked.

     Dean was silent, your question hanging in the air, unanswered, leaving your stomach in knots. Dean was always so confident and sure of himself and his abilities as a hunter. He always had an answer and a plan. But his silence this time was unnerving. He was just as scared and uncertain about the situation as you were.

     “Yeah, I think so,” Dean finally answered, his voice more confident than you knew he was actually feeling. “We'll figure something out. We always do.”

     “Yeah, I hope so,” you murmured. 

     You groaned, the feeling of heaviness in your bladder making its presence known. Maybe you shouldn't have drunk that glass of water.

     “What's wrong?” Dean asked.

     You sighed, throwing off your blanket. “I have to go pee,” you complained getting to your feet and searching for your shoes.

     “I'll go with you,” Dean said, sitting up and grabbing his boots.

     “No, don't worry about it, Dean,” you said. Dean didn't answer you, instead pulling on his combat boots. 

     “Dean, you've had a stressful week. You need to rest,” you said, lacing up your Doc Martens.

     When Dean still didn't answer you sighed. “I'll be fine,” you reassured him.

     “Yeah, well, I don't like the thought of you going out there by yourself when we don't even know where those sons 'o bitches are,” he said gruffly, standing to his feet. “So stop arguing and get your ass outside.”

     You rolled your eyes but did as you were told nevertheless. You silently cursed at Bobby for not including an indoor toilet into the floor plans. Instead he'd opted for the old-fashioned kind: An outhouse. 

     You and Dean stepped out onto the front porch, the steps creaking as you descended. The night was warm with the sounds of crickets and tree frogs filling the air. 

     You looked up at the cloudless sky, stars twinkling in the black abyss. The moon was full, illuminating the trees and other foliage surrounding the safe house. 

     You easily found your way to the outhouse, the smell of feces and urine growing stronger as you neared the wooden structure. You wrinkled your nose as you opened the door slowly, the hinges screeching. You'd have to empty out the bucket in the morning.

     You stepped inside and let the door slam behind you and leaving Dean to stand guard. You slid your pajama shorts and panties down your legs to just below your knees, being careful to not let them touch the piss-stained bottom.

     The humidity mixed with the stench surrounding you grew thicker and you nearly gagged. “Dean,” you called.

     “Yeah, sweetheart?” Dean's muffled voice came through the slightly slatted door.

     “Open the door,” you implored. “It's too hot in here.” Dean swung it wide, using his shoulder to keep it open. 

     “Thanks,” you said, fanning yourself to no avail. Sweat still dotted your forehead and upper lip. 

     “No problem,” Dean said, his back still to you, giving you what meager amount of privacy you had.

     You made quick work of relieving yourself before hurriedly pulling your shorts and panties back up and stepping out into the fresh air. “Whew!” you exclaimed, breathing in deeply. “It was fucking stifling in there!”

     Dean chuckled and you were about to join in when a shrill howl filled the air. You tensed, your eyes and ears alert for any sign of impending danger.

     Dean seemed to sense your fear because he moved to your side, throwing his arm around your shoulder. “Relax, sweetheart,” he said with an amused grin. “It's just coyotes.”

     “Are you sure?” you asked skeptically as another howl rang out, closer this time.

     “I'm sure. You've got nothin’ to worry about as long as you're with me,” he said, his voice staunch. “Let's go back to the house.”

     You nodded, letting him lead you back to the cabin, his arm never leaving your shoulders. 

**********

     The next two days flashed by in a blur. You and Sam continued to dig into Bobby's old books and searched the Internet for anything that seemed demon related. Anything to indicate just where the demons were.

     Dean finally made contact with Cas, who promised to talk to Crowley to see if there was anything the King of Hell could tell him or do to call off the demons on your trail.

     You lay on the couch later that night, going over everything you knew and seeing if you could find a different angle you hadn't considered yet. You were starting to get antsy being cooped up in the safe house. Bobby had stocked it well but with both you and the Winchesters eating the canned goods and MREs he had left, you knew you'd need to go on a supply run soon. Even if it was a risky move.

     You closed your eyes, the muffled sound of tree frogs coming from outside. Sam's soft snores came from the loft, and your eyes grew heavy as all the sounds you'd grown used to in your time at the cabin, started lulling you to sleep.

     But your eyes shot open the moment you heard the soft grunt. It had come from Dean's side of the room. It was too dark to see anything, and you were about to ask him if he was alright when a low groan came from his couch.

     Your stomach clenched, and you swallowed hard. Was he…jerking off? In front of you? With Sam so close and practically in the room? It shocked you, but you'd be lying if you said it didn't turn you on. 

     It had been almost a month since you'd gotten yourself off or had a guy between your thighs. You were beyond sexually frustrated, and with the thought of Dean touching himself, sliding his hand up and down his shaft, pre-cum seeping from the tip, you found yourself more than a little aroused.

     Before you knew it, your hand was sliding under the waistband of your pajama shorts and into your panties. Your fingers grazed your heated core, the wetness coating your folds surprising you. You never got this wet, even when a guy was eating you out or buried balls deep inside you. 

     What it was that got you so turned on by Dean Winchester jacking off, you didn't know. But you also didn't mind as you ran your fingers through your folds before finding your already swollen clit. 

     You rubbed small, controlled circles over the bundle of nerves, pleasure already starting to build. You closed your eyes and bit your bottom lip as you listened to Dean's soft grunts and groans from the other side of the room. 

      You moved your fingers down, inserting two into your sopping hole while your thumb kept a firm pressure on your clit. You shoved your hand under your tank top, palming your breast and pinching your nipples. 

     Your fingers dragged deliciously against your walls, and you couldn't stifle a moan when you crooked your fingers, finding your g-spot.

     “(Y/N)?” Dean's deep and slightly out of breath voice sounded out. You immediately stopped your movements, your fingers still encased in your slick pussy. You held your breath, your heart pounding in your chest. You hoped if you remained quiet, Dean would assume you were asleep and save you the embarrassment of having to explain that you were pleasuring yourself to the sounds of him getting himself off.

     “Are you touching yourself?” Dean whispered. You were shocked into further silence at his brazen and direct question. 

     When you finally found your voice, it was tiny and uncertain. “Y...yes,” you whispered back, your voice practically a mewl.

     Dean remained silent, but you heard shuffling blankets as he shifted. You could see his silhouette against the soft moonlight coming through the sheer curtains at the window behind him as he sat up, leaning back against the couch's armrest. 

     “How are you touching yourself?” he asked, his voice a throaty growl. The sheet over his legs billowed up and down gently as he continued to stroke himself. You were so mesmerized by everything that was happening you barely registered that your fingers had picked up their pace once more until you moaned, a shock of pleasure rippling through your core.

     “C’mon, sweetheart,” Dean panted. “Talk to me. Tell me what you're doing to that sweet, little pussy of yours.”

     You licked your lips, tasting the sweat starting to dot your upper lip. “I...I, um, I'm fucking myself...w...with my fingers,” you said, your voice quiet and uncertain. If felt a bit awkward talking to your friend in such a dirty and intimate way, and you felt a little insecure. You weren't sure what to make of the situation or even what to say exactly.

     “Yeah?” Dean asked. You bit your lower lip and hummed.

     “Yeah,” you said. A squelching noise filled the air as you shoved your fingers in deeper.

     “Shit!” Dean hissed sharply at the sound. “You're so fucking wet, sweetheart.... What else are you doing?”

     “I'm rubbing my clit,” you said, a soft moan following your words as your fingers once again found precedence on your swollen and sensitive bud. 

     “Yeah?” Dean asked again.

     “Yeah,” you said breathily. You weren't sure if it was the huskiness of his voice or the sexy and almost risqué situation or both, but you felt a jolt of confidence, causing your next words to fall from your mouth. “And I'm imagining your fingers instead of mine.”

     Dean was silent, and you felt shame creep into your mind. Maybe you'd gone too far. You'd probably fucked up your entire friendship over one lust induced and foolish comment.

     You were about to apologize and tell Dean to forget what you'd just said when he spoke again. “And does it feel good?” he asked, his voice a throaty whisper. You couldn't believe it! He was actually going along with it.

     “Mm, yeah,” you mewled. “Fucking amazing.”

     “Good,” Dean growled. “Just wanna make you feel good.”

     His words sent another round of arousal straight to your core, coating your fingers in a fresh wave of wetness. You let out a soft and lustful moan as your fingers slid over a particularly sensitive spot, causing you to buck into your hand. “Right there, Dean,” you whimpered. 

     “Don't stop,” he commanded breathlessly. The sheet billowed a little higher as he picked up his pace, lifting his hips off the couch and rocking himself into his palm. “Wanna hear you cum.”

     The room fell silent as you both focused on chasing your releases. The only sounds that broke the quiet were the soft moans, groans, and creaking of couch springs as you shifted, trying to find that perfect angle.

     You went back to pumping your fingers into your still soaking hole and adding a third digit when two just wasn't enough. Your other hand rubbed small, quick circles across your oversensitive clit and you soon felt the familiar tightening of your stomach, indicating you were close. You crooked your fingers into your sweet spot and the coil snapped. Your hips lifted off the couch and your legs trembled as your orgasm overtook you. “Dean,” your wanton praise carried throughout the living room.

     Within seconds Dean was cumming, too, his voice a deep and throaty growl. “Fuucckk,” he groaned, his hand sliding furiously up and down his member as his hips stuttered then finally stilled, white, hot cum coating his hand and staining the sheet above him.

     Dean removed the sheet from his lap and used it to wipe his hand and clean himself up. You did the same, removing your pajama bottoms and panties and using the shorts to clean yourself. You both tossed the soiled sheet and shorts to the ground beside you before lying back, blissed out and reveling in your highs. You were panting hard and trying to get your heartbeat back to normal.

     After a little while, Dean rolled over, facing the back of the couch and pulling the blanket over his body. “Good night, (Y/N),” he called quietly over his shoulder.

     You smiled. “Good night, Dean.” You settled back on your pillow and closed your eyes, letting Dean's steady breathing and the sounds outside lull you to sleep and pull you into fantasies only your dreams would ever see.

**********

     You were standing at the stove the next morning; pancakes were cooking on the skillet while uncracked eggs set off to the side, waiting to be scrambled. Sam was at the kitchen table on his laptop, once again searching for anything having to do with the demons. The boys were tired and quickly burning out from getting nowhere with the case, so you thought a nice home-cooked breakfast would help break the monotony.

     It wasn't long, though, before your mind started to wander, and by the time pancake number four was finished, you'd already replayed everything that had happened the night before nearly a dozen times.

     “Better watch those pancakes,” Dean said teasingly. You jumped at his voice and chuckled sheepishly, quickly flipping the pancake before it could burn.

     You tensed when you felt a hand come to rest on the side of you waist, the scent of Dean's cologne unmistakable. “Last night was fucking hot,” Dean whispered gruffly in your ear, his warm breath tickling your ear and ruffling the hair at your temple. “Can't wait for round two tonight.”

     You jerked your gaze up just as he started to walk away but not before you caught the discreet, yet completely enticing and provocative wink he sent your way.

     So it became your ritual that every night you'd cum to the sounds of one another as you pleasured yourselves. During the day everything went on as usual, and you and Dean didn't talk about what you did in the dark. It was an unspoken agreement. 

     Nearly a week later, Garth showed up at the cabin. He'd heard about your predicament and had caught wind of where the demons were. He thought he knew a way out and had decided to come help.

     You were happy you finally had a break in the case. You and the boys had been out at the cabin for almost three weeks, and everyone's patience was wearing thin. However, with Garth’s arrival came the trouble of figuring out sleeping arrangements.

     You finally came to the agreement that Garth would take the loft, and Sam would use the couch you'd been occupying. Which left you sharing with Dean. It wouldn't have been such a problem except for the fact you and Dean were on opposite sides of the sofa, your feet practically dangling off the sides while his were almost in your face.

     You rolled over for what had to have been the fourth time, trying to get comfortable. You sighed as the heel of Dean's foot dug into the side of your rib cage. You had finally given up on sleep.

     “You okay, sweetheart?” Dean’s voice cut through the quiet, and you jumped. 

     “Can't sleep,” you mumbled grumpily.

     You felt Dean shift and when you looked towards him, you saw he was now sitting up. “Come here,” he said, beckoning.

     You huffed, but got up nevertheless, Dean guiding you between his legs and pulling you back against him.You instantly felt yourself relax, and you leaned your head against his shoulder, the side of his cheek nearly plastered to your own.

     “Better?” he asked, his warm breath ruffling the flyaways at your temple.

     You nodded and closed your eyes. You were on the verge of sleep when you felt a hand slide over your thigh. You jolted awake, your eyes wide. “What are you doing?” you hissed. 

     “Just relax,” Dean murmured, his hand making its way up your thigh. You instinctively spread your legs, allowing his touch to move to your inner thigh and tease the bottom of your pajama shorts.

     “Dean,” you said, your heartbeat picking up and your breathing becoming shallow. “Garth...Sam,” you whispered.

     “They won't hear,” he whispered. “Not if you're quiet.” 

     You shuddered at his words as his hand traveled up to the waistband of your shorts. He paused for a moment, the tips of his fingers sliding under the elastic. “This okay?” he asked gruffly.

     You nodded briskly, and Dean continued his path. “Good,” he grunted, his hand slipping into your panties. “'Cause I've heard you cum…. Now I wanna feel you,” he said just as his fingers found your swollen clit.

     You gasped and bucked into his hand as he rubbed firm and controlled circles over the sensitive bud. “This feel good?” he asked quietly.

     You whimpered in response as he dipped a finger into your soaked core. “Mmm,” he growled in appreciation. “You’re already so fucking wet.”

     He continued to thrust his middle finger into you while his thumb kept a steady pressure against your clit. You rolled your hips with his movements, and you gripped his thighs as his fingers brushed against your sweet spot. 

     “Dean,” you whispered through gritted teeth as you fought against the moan at the back of your throat.

     “Cum for me, sweetheart,” he said, and you did as he commanded, cumming harder than you ever had on your own fingers.

     Dean worked you through your orgasm, chuckling softly as you slumped back against him, your chest heaving. “So fucking hot,” he whispered, lightly nipping at your earlobe. Dean's hands moved over your body as you came down from your high, caressing every inch of skin he could find. 

     “Take off your pants,” he said, the tone in his voice leaving no room for argument. You scrambled up from between his legs, the couch dipping and springs squeaking as you got up. Sam suddenly took a deep breath from the couch across the room, and you and Dean paused what you were doing, listening for any other signs he was awake. You let out the breath you didn't know you'd been holding as Sam flipped to his side away from you and Dean.

     You quickly shimmied out of your shorts and panties, leaving them on the floor. You were surprised to find Dean fully naked when you turned back around, just enough light around the room for you to see his thick erection flat against his stomach. 

     Dean held out his hand to you, and you took it as he silently guided you back onto his lap. You could feel his tip at your entrance and you tensed, looking towards Sam and the loft. You knew what Dean had in mind the moment he'd told you to strip. You'd been so turned on by his demand you hadn't really cared that there were two other people in the house, but now that it was actually about to happen, you were having second thoughts.

     “Dean…” you started, your voice betraying your apprehension.

     Dean shushed you with a warm hand on your bare waist. “Don't worry, baby,” he said, rubbing his thumb across your skin. “This isn't my first rodeo,” he reassured you.

     You nodded and felt yourself start to relax again. Dean knew what he was doing even if you were walking into this blindly. You could trust him; he wouldn't put you in a situation like this if he didn't think he could get away with it.

     “Just relax,” he said as he lined himself up and began to push into you slowly. You let out a small gasp as he slid against your walls, every inch of you feeling fuller and fuller. 

     “Fuckin’ hell you're tight,” Dean said once he'd bottomed out, resting his forehead against your clothed back.

     A soft moan fell from your mouth once he started moving. He was slow, careful not to make too much noise, the springs of the couch squeaking softly.

     You held onto the back of the couch to steady yourself while your other hand grasped his forearm, his hands firmly gripping your waist as he thrust in and out of you rhythmically. And it wasn't long before you felt that familiar warmth building in your stomach again. 

     “D...De,” you panted, squeezing his arm and hoping he'd get your message.

     “I know, baby,” he grunted. “Me, too.”

     He snaked his hand between your spread thighs, his fingertips massaging your oversensitive clit. A jolt of electricity shot through your body and before you could register what was happening, you were falling off the precipice of release. 

     You threw your head back as your walls tightened and the coil snapped. Dean clamped his other hand over your mouth just as a wanton moan spilled from your lips.

     Dean wasn't far behind, a low groan emanating from his throat as his hips stuttered. He gripped your waist tightly again as he thrust harshly up into you two more times before he came, ropes of hot cum coating your walls.

     You ran your hand up and down the side of his hairy and muscular thigh while he wrapped his arms around you, anchoring you against him. Dean buried his face into your neck the moment you collapsed against him, kissing down your neck and shoulder and sucking a mark behind your ear. “Definitely the best case I've ever worked,” he murmured in your ear, just as the first light of dawn peeked over the horizon.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Thank you for reading! If you liked what you read, let me know!! ❤❤

***Please do not share my content on any other platforms without my consent.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Tags:

Everything:

@divadinag​ @mogaruke​ @calaofnoldor​ @defenderrosetyler​ @coffeebooksandfandom​ @emoryhemsworth​ @satans-0-spawn​ @fandom-princess-forevermore​ @titty-teetee​

Dean Girls:

@weepingwillowphoenix​ @akshi8278​

[therainbowwillow]

When Hell Freezes Over AU: part 5!

The train squeals to a halt. When she steps onto the platform, Eurydice recognizes her surroundings. Her home, before she’d been taken to Hadestown, had been this town, alongside the railroad track. The bar, she remembers, where she'd met Orpheus. She has his scrap of newspaper tucked deep into her pockets, unwilling to go without it.

Hermes hands her a blanket. He’d taught her the song and with each note, she’d felt her memories return. She finds herself wondering now how her Orpheus, the sweet love of her life who wouldn’t hurt a fly, who hadn’t even fought back when the workers in Hadestown had attacked him, could cause such suffering.

The cold is harsh, stinging against her cheeks. Winter on the surface is crueler than the strange chill down below. The wind tugs at her blankets, threatening to rip them away. Orpheus’s voice can be heard on the gales, wailing through the trees. She looks to Hermes for instruction.

“I would give you shelter, Eurydice,” he says, “But I’m afraid there’s nowhere to find it.” 

She shrugs, pretending not to mind. “We should find him. I don’t need a roof over my head if he isn’t beside me.” 

Hermes nods. “It’s a long walk,” he warns her. “And...” his voice trails off.

“The sooner we leave, the sooner we’ll find him.” Eurydice begins to walk, a steady pace. Wrapped in blankets, the path is harder to traverse, but she’s grateful for the warmth. 

“Wait.” She turns. “Eurydice, it’s not him you’re going to find. Not really.”

She tilts her head slightly. “What?”

“It’s a graveyard out there,” he warns.

It dawns on her then. Those who found him before her had never left. “How long? How long before he freezes me too?” she asks, bluntly. He doesn’t meet her eyes, nor does he provide an answer. “Fine. Let’s go then,” she says. “If he kills me too, I suppose nothing changes.” Hermes nearly winces at this statement, but takes the lead regardless. Persephone follows behind him, Eurydice at her side.

“He loves you,” Persephone reminds her again. “Very much.”

She nods, forcing back her irritation. “I love him too,” she says. What does it matter, she wonders, if he’ll torture her all the same? What awaits her is a crueler fate than either of her last deaths. Failure or success, is one any easier than the other? “What happens?” she asks, “If I succeed, I mean.”

“I don’t know,” Hermes admits.

She can’t tell if this is the truth. She presses the question. “He’ll die, won’t he? A mortal in this weather, no shelter, no food.”

“I’ve struck a deal with Hades,” he explains. “He’ll sing all the same so you must not be separated from him.”

For a second, she’s almost relieved. Hopeful, until she realizes what this agreement doesn’t specify. “Together in life or in the factories?”

Hermes sighs. “That’s up to you.”

“How long do I have?”

“I wish I could say I knew.”

The rest of the walk is near-silent, save for the sorrowful howling of the wind. With every step, Eurydice finds the cold grows harsher. Once, she would’ve turned and fled. Now, it is almost a comfort. The lower the temperature drops, the closer she knows she is to finding him. 

...

Hermes doesn’t share Eurydice’s acquaintance with the cold. He ties a scarf up over his face, warding off the snow as best he can. He wonders what Eurydice will think to say, think to do, that he hadn’t tried. He can’t bring himself to warn her of what lies ahead. People, too many to count, frozen like statues. Already, he’d noticed them among the trees. Staring, blank and blind. 

Eurydice and Persephone have not yet observed them as he has. They remain blissfully unaware. He knows it is pointless, maybe even counterproductive, not to admonish them of what lies on the path before them. Still, he can’t bear to speak up. Maybe it will ease Eurydice’s path to go in unknowing. Clueless as to what she will face, just as he had been. 

The cold had been a force of its own, Hermes remembers. His fingertips had stung first, until the ever-decreasing temperature had chilled them to numbness. His eyes had burned, pelted by snow. His breaths had slowed. The effort required to inhale at all was great, even for a god such as himself. The cold had seemed to work its way into his lungs, strangling him from the inside. 

If Eurydice marches to her demise, how much might she suffer before death gives her mercy? Her shaky gasp pulls him from his thoughts. Eurydice stands, frozen in terror, her hands over her mouth, before one of Orpheus’s victims. A young woman, no older than Eurydice herself. Hermes hadn’t even noticed the girl. “H-he did this?” she stammers.

“His song,” Hermes tells her, carefully.

“How many?” He sees the horror written across Eurydice’s face. 

“There will be more. Eurydice...”

“I’ll end up just like them, won’t I?” Her voice trembles. “I’ve only ever failed him. Again and again and again.”

“You haven’t,” he says, firmly. “You haven’t failed him.”

...

The rest of their journey is silent and surprisingly swift with a known route to follow. As she passes, Eurydice whispers words of what she hopes is comfort to the unmoving forms of those who had failed the very task she will now attempt. 

Perseus, she remembers. Orpheus had sang of his tale once as they’d sat beside a dwindling fire, not long before she’d accepted her ticket to the underground. Perhaps she’d seen him once, the great slayer of gorgons, among the shades of Hadestown. Heroes were meant to go to Elysium, but such a paradise seemed only a distant rumor after her time in the underworld. 

She can’t help but hear his story echoing through her mind. His task was much the same as her own: bring an end to the suffering caused by another. And Medusa’s victims had met such similar fates. She knows Persephone will not admit it, nor will Hermes so much as entertain the idea, but her job is to make him stop by whatever means necessary. Stop him, or they both belong to Hades, the King of the Dead had said.

Hades himself had given her these clothes, extra winter coats and thick blankets. Immediately, she had assumed that he’d only shown kindness to manipulate her, not out of affection. She’d been proven right. Deep within her pockets, she’d discovered a thin blade, sheathed and sharpened. In disgust, she’d nearly thrown it from the train window, but the longer she walks, the more glad she is to hold it. 

Had Perseus felt remorse when he’d cut through Medusa’s neck? Eurydice doubts it. The gorgon had been a killer, murdered so many before she had met Perseus’s retaliation. Plus, he had never known her for anything but cruelty. 

But Eurydice had known Orpheus for everything but wickedness. He was kind, true, ever-protective, even willing to risk himself to keep her safe. The workers had attacked him and she’d seen how he’d winced with every step as they’d walked. All of that, to defend her.

It was hard to believe that her Orpheus had become this monster, killing anyone who dared to approach him. Every note of his song sends a ripple of cold through her body. He had come so far from the man she’d loved. She wonders if she’ll be able to reach him at all. Some tiny part of her asks if it’s worth trying. Perhaps she’d find it easier to simply slay her Medusa, feel no regret. 

When they arrive in the clearing, she can hardly believe she had ever thought to hurt him. He’s slumped awkwardly against a tree, difficult to make out beyond the blizzard between them. His thin nightgown is stiff with frost and stained with dried blood, certainly his own. He shivers against the cold he creates and seems to be fighting their approach. When she steps forward, the wind blows harder, he sings louder, which only seems to further strain him. 

She looks to Hermes. “Keep yourself warm. Fight it, Eurydice,” he says, as if she doesn’t already know. 

She steps forwards, entering the circle of icy figures that surrounds him, frozen in shock. Many of them hold gifts. Golden chalices or strings of precious jewelry. Offerings. A last ditch attempt to save themselves. Their towns, their homes.

Deep in her pockets, her hand closes around the scrap of paper he’d given her. Their first meeting feels a million years away. Again, she moves towards him, turning her head down against the wind. She doesn’t waste her breath calling out to him, he can’t hear her. Here, she’s surrounded by his attackers, men and women armed with a variety of weapons. Their arrows are frozen pillars of ice, stopped mid-flight by Orpheus’s song. 

Holding her coat in front of her face, she watches him, shivering. He looks gaunt and miserable, tears freeze on his cheeks before they reach the ground. “Leave me alone,” he shrieks. 

For a second, he looks up. “Orpheus!” she shouts. Her cries fall on deaf ears. There’s no recognition in his cloudy eyes, only pain, only fear.

She stumbles closer. “Orpheus, listen to me!” she pleads, to no avail. The winds rip at her blankets. Her fingers and toes are numb in the cold. Her eyes sting and she forces herself to keep them open, focused on him.

She sings the notes to his old melody, as loudly as she can manage, her voice shaking a little as she shivers. He strums his guitar, blood dripping from his fingers, frostbitten and torn by his ceaseless notes. The storms seems to burst from his voice, pulling away her blankets. Eurydice tightens her grip on her coat.

Orpheus makes a noise of pain, a little choking sob, as if it hurts him to continue fueling his blizzard. He sings on. Eurydice feels the knife in her pocket. She’d never forgive herself if she were to hurt him. Through all of his icy winds and endless music, he is only her lover, frightened and defenseless and lonely. The wind itself pulls the blade out of her hands when she releases her grip, bringing her coat with it. She’s left shivering in only a thin shirt. 

He’s so close, just a few steps away. Eurydice continues to sing, the wind blowing harder and harder with every note she chokes out. The air itself seems to pierce her lungs. She clutches her chest and treks onward. The blinding white of the snow begins to blur her vision until Orpheus is indistinguishable from the rest of the landscape. Her legs shake, threatening to buckle under her weight. 

“Orpheus...” she coughs out each syllable, struggling for breath. His song changes its tone. It isn’t melancholic any longer, but angry. Hateful. Eurydice shields her face against the pelting ice crystals, whipped against her by the ever-stronger gales. Darkness blurs the corners of her vision. She drops to her knees, gasping for breath. Her chest feels like it’s closing in on her, choking her. 

Eurydice pulls out her slip of newspaper, clutching it in her hands. Her life seems to slip away before her eyes, blurrier and darker as if she’s sinking into a deeper and deeper sea. She feels the bitter cold. Loss, as her scrap of paper is whisked out of her fingertips. The exhaustion hits her last. She longs to close her eyes. To disappear. 

Instead, she sings. Her voice is tiny and weak and her shallow breaths hardly draw enough oxygen to sustain her. She pushes herself forward, on her hands and knees. He’s so close. She reaches out. Her fingertips brush his nightgown and suddenly, the world shifts around her. She’s back on the road out of Hadestown, holding on to him for dear life. “Eurydice,” he breathes, finally meeting her eyes.

She feels the pull of the underworld, trying to drag her under. She holds him tighter. “No. I’m not going!” she screams, as if Hadestown itself can hear her. Orpheus inhales, a tiny gasp, and his eyes slip shut. 

...

Eurydice wakes, Orpheus in her arms. She breathes deeply, the air already beginning to warm. She hugs him, feeling her lover’s slow heartbeat against her chest. He groans. 

“Orpheus?” she chokes out, her voice hoarse.

He glances around him and she covers his eyes. But he sees. He remembers. His breaths quicken, his eyes well with tears. “I... I killed them,” he stutters.

She wipes the tears off his cheeks. His skin is so cold she draws her hands away. “Not you, lover,” she whispers, “You didn’t do this.” 

“Y-yes I did.” He tries to push her away, but his limbs feel heavy as lead. “I killed... how many?”

“Shhh...” She holds him closer.

“I deserve it,” he sobs, “Whatever punishment... the furies have for me. I deserve it.”

“No, you don’t, love,” she comforts him, swaying back and forth. “You didn’t mean to hurt anybody. You were only afraid. Hush... hush...” He falls silent, save for his shaky breaths. 

Hermes and Persephone arrive at Orpheus’s side a moment later. The Queen of the Underworld drapes a blanket over Eurydice’s shoulders. “You did well,” she whispers. 

Hermes bundles Orpheus in his own jacket. “I’m... sorry,” Orpheus stammers.

“You don’t need to apologize.”

“I... I should’ve told you. I stole your food without telling you and... and I ran away. Hermes, I’m so sorry. I-”

“No, you don’t need to be sorry,” Hermes assures him. “I never should have left you alone. Orpheus, I don’t blame you for any of this. It’s not your fault, it’s not anyone’s fault.” Orpheus nods, too tired to reply.

Hermes again notices the blood staining Orpheus’s clothing. He finds the poet’s previously injured leg has worsened in the cold. The gash where he’d been cut in the underworld is sticky with new blood. An array of scratches, some quite deep, run up his arms and torso, no doubt courtesy of his attackers on the surface.

But it’s the cold that Hermes fears most of all. Orpheus’s skin is so icy, Hermes is surprised he’s still conscious. His lips and his fingers are blue with frostbite. Hermes knows that he won’t last long in this weather. Even without his lament prolonging the cold weather, the air is still freezing and the ground is still blanketed in snow.

“Hadestown,” he realizes aloud. “Warmth.”

“But Eurydice...” Orpheus mutters, hardly intelligible. 

“No, Hermes is right,” Persephone says. “No amount of surface fires will provide what Hadestown naturally has. The sooner we leave the better.”

“I can move faster alone,” Hermes tells her.

“Eurydice and I will be close behind,” she promises. “Tell my husband that he can enjoy the Styx if he dares to lay a finger on the boy.”

[applejuizz]

irrational goals x and x mindless illusions

after years of relentless searching, kaito has finally managed to find ging. as the two hunters pass the evening in the mountains, ging tells a story of his past. characters: ging freecss, kaito (kite) pairing(s): ging x gon’s momma (in the past!) no warnings word count: 1.880

pretty much my headcanons on what happened to gon’s mother.

“For all those years that I’ve known you, Ging-san, and I would’ve never guessed you have a kid.” Ging’s laughter, loud and brash bounced off the cave walls and scattered along with the howling winds. “And I thought you knew better than to make assumptions,” the hunter replied wittily, his large, amber stare glinting with amusement.

Kaito huffed out a short-lived smile and took a generous bite out of his freshly-roasted fish. He chose to let the crackling fire fill the silence as he masticated, carefully pondering over his next words.

“You’ve left one hell of a legacy behind, you know. He’s got your willpower and plenty of potential.” In response, Ging grunted through a mouthful of fish. “He’s good with animals as well. He’d make an excellent hunter.”

Kaito raised his gaze slightly to catch a reaction from across the vivid flames of the campfire. Maybe it had been just a product of the lights and shadows constantly dancing on Ging’s features, but he could’ve sworn that for a brief, insignificant moment, his master’s petrified expression had twitched. Now, whether it had been the ghost of a smile or a grimace, he couldn’t tell.

“Looks like my son did quite the impression on you,” remarked Ging, swallowing the last of his bite. “He is definitely something. I’m surprised how you were never curious enough to visit. Poor boy grew up thinking his parents were dead.” “Good.”

The sheer finality in the hunter’s tone made Kaito’s head instantly shoot up to stare incredulously. “Don’t look at me like I’m crazy, Kaito,” said Ging before his disciple could conceal his surprise, “hunters are greedy people. They seek adventure, despise routine and never settle. Bringing a kid into this world is a big and dangerous deal that we couldn’t bear.”

Then why did you do it in the first place? The question was entirely plausible, yet it died on Kaito’s tongue before he could voice it. It wasn’t his place to ask. Perhaps the boy was the result of an ordinary one night stand - that was quite often the case. Besides, he couldn’t imagine Ging lingering in one place long enough to fall in love and willingly father a child. Then again, he hadn’t thought it possible for the carefree adventurer to even be a parent at all, and he’d been proven wrong. In all truth, predicting Ging Freecss’s actions was a game of chance, similar to Kaito’s Crazy Slot, and the white-haired hunter wasn’t sure he liked that resemblance.

“Was his mother a hunter as well?” As he spoke, Kaito watched Ging’s posture stiffen, his usual relaxed attitude forgone. On second thought, it might’ve been more suitable to ask about his reasoning. “Who said anything about her? What did I tell you about assumptions?!” “You said ‘we’.” “What?!” “When you talked about bringing a kid into this world, you said ‘we couldn’t bear it’.” “As in you and me and every other fucking hunter in the world. Now stop nagging me.”

From the years he’d spent as his disciple, Kaito had learnt a lot about Ging as a hunter - extremely gifted, strategic, adventurous -, as well as a person - stubborn, unpredictable, carefree and at times, awkward. However, he had rarely, if ever got the chance to see a truly flustered, caught off-guard Ging. It took a lot to surprise him. Yet it seemed that the question Kaito had deemed innocuous had managed to utterly baffle the rogue hunter. He watched in awe as Ging’s features shifted through various phases of surprise, outrage and awkwardness, his foot nervously tapping the ground and his voice cracking with indignance. “I’m sorry. It’s none of my business.” The only response Ging gave was a graceful, yet expressive burp. He deliberately avoided meeting Kaito’s eyes, busying himself with wiping clean of meat every little fishbone.

By the time he spoke again, the fire had considerably dimmed. “She is a hunter. Part of the association that helped me create Greed Island.” Kaito was leaning against a smoother portion of the wall, hands behind his head, eyes closed in contemplation. When his master spoke, he immediately turned to look at him. The black-haired man was staring pointedly at the dying fire, scattering the ashes with a stick in a halfhearted attempt of keeping it aflame. “Ging-san, you don’t have to talk about this if-“ “Just shut up and listen, ‘cause I’m not telling this story twice.”

Kaito settled back against the stone wall and listened.

“As I said, she was one of the creators of Greed Island, so we were both pretty young when we met- 18, I think. She was the friend of a friend, she heard of our project and she wanted in. We were fine with it, since she was a strong Nen user and her contribution has made the game what it is today.”

The cave entrance was growing darker by the minute as nightfall crept in. They would have to get some more firewood.

“While we were busting our asses off scouting the island and thinking up cards, we got to talkin’ and you could say we grew... close. She was pretty and as charming as they come, simple-minded, and always up for an adventure. And I was a bit of an impressionable kid.”

“We wanted to travel together. She was passionate about myths and languages, I liked ruins. A match made in heaven,” Ging chuckled bitterly. “Now, don’t get me wrong, ‘twas nothing official. We couldn’t be bothered to label anything. But one thing led to another, and all of a sudden we were a couple of dumb nineteen year-olds with a baby on the way.”

So, Gon was a mistake. Kaito had figured that much.

“Obviously, we had to push back our plans - we wanted to try and explore the Dark Continent eventually - and we had no idea how we were going to raise a kid together when we didn’t even know how to define our relationship, but we never thought about giving up Gon. Not once. Soon after we finished up the game, Daina gave birth. May 5th, 1987. Five months later, I was urging her to come with me on an unofficial, undocumented expedition near lake Mosubi.”

The sheer name of that place gave Kaito the shivers as he listened attentively to the other hunter’s story.

“She didn’t really want to go. Childbirth had changed her. She began to realize the risks we’d have to take, the high stakes, the danger that was awaiting and how inexperienced we really were. But I was having none of it. I thought I was invincible, and I thought I’d always get what I wanted.” There was a pause, and Ging cleared his throat almost awkwardly.

“So, I threatened to leave by myself. Woke up that morning and started packing. She got scared, like I knew she would; there was no way to stop me, so she eventually gave in.”

“You pretty much manipulated her into following you,” Kaito concluded. Ging continued to stare into the fire for a while before answering, and his disciple was almost sure he’d managed to piss him off again.

“Yeah. I guess you could say that,” he answered calmly. “Anyway, we left the baby in-game, summoned a Panda Maid to care for him and left. Long story short, something... beyond my understanding happened on that godforsaken shore and...”

“Did Daina...?”

“No! I mean... she disappeared. I have no idea what happened to her. I couldn’t look for her. It’s a miracle I even got away.”

Kaito let out a breath he hadn’t even known he were holding.

“And before you start to think I’m some delusional dumbass, the moment I got back, I went to Greed Island and summoned Double Postcard to the Dead. I’ve been doing it annually since then. No response so far.”

Ging needn’t explain more. Kaito knew Greed Island fairly well from the time he had attempted to clear the game, and therefore he had plenty of knowledge on the card system. Double Postcard to the Dead is a card which, if summoned, allows you to send a message to a deceased person of your choosing. If the person is truly dead, you’ll get a response within the next day.

“Anyway, after all that, I’d realized a couple of things.” Ging raised his pointer in the air. “First. I was going to need at least a decade of training, experience and qualifications to even pass lake Mosubi’s shoreline, and second,” he raised another finger, “I couldn’t raise Gon on my own. It was too dangerous to pursue my goals with him around, and he would’ve been better off living a normal life.”

“So you sent him off home.”

“And lost custody in court when Mito decided to sue me. The rest is history.”

There was silence as Kaito pondered over what he’d just heard. He supposed he could understand the reasoning behind Ging’s decision to leave Gon in someone else’s care, but he could’ve at least visited. Kaito was no king of morality, yet he couldn’t have lived with himself knowing he had a kid out there that knew nothing of him.

“I’m sorry.”

Ging’s eyes switched back to Kaito. He no longer looked lost in space as he made a dismissive hand gesture, very much characteristic of him.

“Don’t be. It was for the best. I would’ve been a crappy father either way.” There was humor in his tone and the white-haired hunter laughed cordially, but he could tell his companion’s words were more than just a joke.

The more he thought about it, the more obvious it became. Ging had decided to utterly avoid his son not only for his safety, but also out of a selfish, yet understandable reason. He couldn’t have possibly bore the embarrassment of looking Gon in the eye and telling him his mother had gone missing simply because he had dragged her into his irrational goals and mindless illusions.

But you won’t be able to avoid him forever, Kaito thought to himself. If that boy is anything like you, he won’t drop dead until he finds you. I’ve seen the look in his eyes. You’re in for one hell of a ride, Ging.

“Yo.” He was awoken from his reverie by the hunter’s deep voice. “I’m gonna go get some more firewood. You coming or what?”

Kaito had barely noticed that the sky had gone completely dark and the cave was only lit by what little was left of the campfire. He could barely distinguish Ging’s features anymore as he stood at the entrance.

“Sure. I wasn’t expecting you to spend the night here though, Ging-san.”

As they walked along the abrupt forest path, wind howling at their ears, Ging scoffed. “You and your damn assumptions.” He grumbled and pointed at the sky. “No stars. Can’t you smell the thunder? It’s gonna rain tonight.” Kaito doubted a little storm would stop Ging from leaving if he really wished to do so, but he said nothing. “Oh, and drop the honorific.”

Kaito must’ve looked extremely surprised because Ging spoke again, a smirk creeping on his face.

“Don’t look at me like that. You found me, so you passed your test. We’re equals.”

[duraxxor]

Shadowlands: A Prelude

The grand finale of the three-way storyline between the Beast, The son Aiden, and the father Duraxxor has finally come to a close. We find our these individuals converging right into the heart of Northrend itself as the winter seemed to chill the bone more so than the norm. Ritualists were converging together from all across as the agents of this being that were in service to the one we call the Beast's will. Some were even leftovers of the fallen master N'zoth as they worked to preparation of a summons of a greater magnitude. This information alone had made it to the ears of those that it was most important to.

Aiden, along with Sephirrion left with but a note to offer anyone with the family that was still left behind in this time of peace. By sea, they made way, unexpecting of whoever was already on their path to this diabolical individual that would see their end first before all else. An assassination attempt was made just before they made the shoreline with the individual meeting a frigid end at the hands of Sephirrion's frost swordsmanship. But as they made landfall, they would soon realize that there were more allies than they had anticipated. Knights a variety drawn in by the call of someone else that could also hear the cry of the Lich King Bolvar as something was more amiss than what was to happen. 

Valanth Sunscorn, Dra'kaal Deathcleave, and even Gravekeeper Anna were present amongst these individuals along with the Forsaken mage Benjamin Lewinters as they gathered alongside Sephirrion and explained to both he and the living son of Daevara that they were all here to fight the same thing and that they were asked by Mr. Myotis himself. So without any further interruptions, the forced marched over and began to attack these malefic ritualists at the frigid plains of Sindragosa's Fall, close to a one many peaks that surrounded the area. It was a clash of undead for the most part versus the forces of the void and demonic that brought Benjamin, Sephirrion, and Aiden to the face of the being known to them as The Beast alongside the wench, Lindeara Windsorrow who had continued to focus on being the main objective.

The Beast's abilities proved to be formidable as he possessed an keen magical manipulation of a small burst of Time itself, proving that he could use it as offensively as he could defensively. It took the three of them a few attempts before they began to realize what was even going on and all seemed like it was truly at a loss when he had managed to cut Sephirrion down where he stood who had managed to bring himself to take the full force of devastating strength right to the very core of his soul. And the summons proved to be a succession as Benjamin was kept away from Lindeara as the head a creature with rows of teeth began to rise from the depths of the ground when suddenly... a barrage of massive bats began to rain down, screeching and howling as they pelted the creature before reanimated monstrosity of the skies know as Nightterror came down and rushed the behemoth back to the hell it came.

Meanwhile, the young lord himself was doing all he could alone against this formidable foe, managing to learn how to move through his chronomancy to counteract it defensively but was on the ropes from the damage he had suffered. Growing tired of these games, The Beast had a hold of Aiden and began channeling the cursed seal, trying to pull that dreaded link that bound all of the living Daevara right from the depths of their souls with enough force they could kill them. The Beast had finally won, he was going to destroy the infernal family that had meddled in his affairs for over ten thousand years of a broken pact. And soon, he would be able to move forward with his careful plans. Nothing could stop him now.

" Kroanthos! "

A name has power, one lady so sanguine once said. And it was at this point that Kroanthos' eyes turned to that which howled his name into the winds and found himself divebombed by an airborne creature known by many names. Bat wings flayed and flapped as the two beings writhed like two serpents trying to kill the other. It was when Aiden got a glimpse of the white locks of hair that cascaded on his shoulders that he realized it was none other than his father. His father was alive and had changed. He couldn't believe it as he saw this creature bring their most formidable foe down to the drops below and back to the snow covered hillside, stealing something so precious as Duraxxor declared that Kroanthos' reign over the Daevara family had come to an end as he now bore the mark of the progenitor. Kroanthos had lost and just when he thought to try and take back what was his, he was betrayed by his closest ally, Lindeara.

Lindeara used her own pact to him to take away what was left of the miserable husk since he no longer had any power over her and took it upon herself to take flight and escape while she could, declaring that she would be back to destroy them all and take back her child Xanthariel as she had always planned to. That was, until the tethers of soul energy zigzagged across the sky just above Icecrown Citadel and like a mirror, the sky shattered as a dreaded spire took shape within it's epicenter. Lindeara took this opportunity to sprout her demonic wings and take flight in the confusion. With that being said, the reunion of Lord and son was cut short and he told his son to tell the other's he would return one day but he still had a fight to finish. The wings of the Myotis growing wide as he took off after the demonic witch. 

Chaos was consuming the entire landscape of Icecrown as the dead could no longer hear the voice of Bolvar and now they were running rampant below. Dura was now urging everyone to leave this place and retreat to help with what was to be a revolution within the world of Azeroth as he began to slowly realize what had happened. The undead were completely free of that which had jailed them for so long to not go completely apocalyptic upon the world. For one last moment, he told them all this was farewell for now as he followed the wench to the rift above, bursting with a gust of speed as he rushed her with ear-piercing screeching. Claws, teeth, and spells were cast, inflicting devastating amount of pain as the two found it all the more satisfying to continue tearing each other apart. 

When they thought nothing else could end this fight, winged harbingers clad in a sinister black smoke rained into existence, zeroing in on the pair as they rushed with the speed of a reaper. Death's grip weaved directly into their hearth, tethering to their bodies with a sinister chain of purple haze. They began to feel the agonizing pain of death tear at their souls until they both found themselves too weak to fight back. Two of these beings now having a hold of them, they sought to bring them back through this rift between Life and Death. And the moment they passed through, the change in flow suddenly brought the two beings back to their own version of life as they writhed and flailed, forced their imminent release as the Val'kyr's of black smog left them both to fall to their own devices. Separately, Duraxxor fell from his foe as they both appeared to no longer possess the ability to fly. Every single aspect of reality had been inverted as he watched as Azeroth began to fade from his sight, the welcoming blue of the frigid Northrend being consumed overcast of death's storm. The father of bats in that moment felt nothing but the cold embrace of weakness as he slowly began to blackout from the fall. But in that darkness of his the depths of his mind, there was one color that consumed his unconscious thoughts...

" RED. "

[ Tagging for those that it may apply to: @gravekeeper-anna @sanguinesorceress @igniting-the-dawn @viviannamaraschiano @sneakybinch @theblackmourninquire @miah-ambershade and to all else whom it may concern =) ] 

[lumoshyperion]

thank you for the answer! I know what you mean about theatre being vulnerable, even as an audience member I think you get some of that too, and the way you all share the theatre space together and it's so fleeting! You said that Albus will likely never act again, why is that? :( 🎭

Yes, exactly! It's such a specific, special moment in time? And a play you see now will mean something different than it did years ago when you saw it for the first time. Whenever I see a performance, particularly one with a large audience, I'm always struck by how different everyone's experiences are? We all bring different baggage and biases to the theatre. Something that makes someone else feel nothing, may strip me down to the very core - and it doesn't mean that person didn't watch the play properly, it just means that it meant something different to them. There's no right or wrong way to view and enjoy theatre. And this is especially true for Shakespeare. His works have been adapted over and over and over again. Hamlet in particular will never grow old, its universal themes leading to productions like "Globe to Globe Hamlet", where their aim was to visit every country in the world. We all take something different from the melancholy Dane. Even the companies who adapt the play all have their own concerns and biases in mind when bringing it to the stage - and so will Astoria and Albus and the rest of the team.

Speaking of Albus - he's just not an actor. This is something he mentions, constantly, throughout the process of the play. He's also an introvert and being the centre of attention like he is when onstage, and especially in a leading role, just isn't something he copes with? And I think that - he could be an excellent actor, if he wanted to, but the key word here is "want". Because regardless of how good he is, regardless of how much depth and care he brings to Hamlet - he still doesn't want to be an actor. He doesn't handle the vulnerability well at all, and he's so empathetic that he just - gets lost in the character? And someone like Hamlet is incredibly difficult to inhabit. You constantly hear stories about actors who struggled with the role - Paul Gross said that he often zoned out during scenes, he hallucinated while onstage and sometimes even offstage. It was just too much? Especially for a person like Albus, who has this immense, unyielding sense of empathy and compassion. It stops being a performance, because Albus is out there living every part of Hamlet. He doesn't know how to approach it any other way, because he just... cares too much. He never does things by halves. And he loves Hamlet. He knows Hamlet. Anything less than his whole self just wouldn't be enough. Hamlet deserves more than that.

Here's an excerpt from later on in the fic, when things are starting to get heated. Albus found out that the company has been talking about him behind his back, and he didn't take it very well. He vanished from rehearsals and wouldn't answer anyone's calls. He shows up to the fight call, trying to pretend nothing happened. I've popped it under a "read more" because it's rather long.

Albus went through the stage door rather than the front entrance, not wanting to make a fuss when he arrived and hoping that he might just slip in quietly. But he heard the cast talking onstage as he walked through the wings, and he paused.

“Where else could he have gone?” Yann asked. “We’ve checked all over campus. We’ve checked his favourite cafes, we checked the library.”

“Maybe he went home?” Scorpius suggested, and was met with silence. “I mean, his parent’s home.”

“No, he wouldn’t have done that,” Yann replied, calmly. “He must be at his apartment, we just don’t know where that is.”

There was another silence, before Scorpius spoke, “And you’re sure you never walked home with him? He never mentioned where he was staying?”

“I’ve never been to his apartment. I never even saw the building,” Karl responded, a weight in his words that Albus couldn’t place.

They went quiet again, so Albus stepped out of the wings and put his bag down. Karl, Yann, and Scorpius were standing onstage, while Craig was at the lighting booth loudly talking to someone on the phone. They all stopped and looked at him and Craig said, “Uhh, he’s just arrived. Yeah, no, he literally just walked in… Rose! I’m not going to say that -”

“Where the hell have you been?” Karl snapped.

Albus flinched. Karl never raised his voice. “Is this everyone?”

Craig, who had come down from the lighting booth and joined them onstage, crossed his arms and said, “Rose canceled rehearsal. She’s out looking for you with Astoria.”

“We don’t need them to block the scene. Yann knows what they’re doing.”

Yann put their hands on their hips and frowned. “We should wait until they get back and then decide what to do.”

“We don’t have the time. We open in two weeks, your show opens next week,” He explained, already taking his coat off and eyeing the rapiers. “We should get this over with.”

Albus tossed his coat aside and stared at Yann, who stared back. He knew they wouldn’t be able to argue with his reasoning. Yann was spread thin. Between uni work and his job and choreographing two shows, it was almost impossible to find the time to work on Hamlet’s blocking. Yann raised an eyebrow and Albus inclined his head, trying to communicate that he was fine and that he just wanted to get this over with.

“Alright. We’ll do it,” they relented. But before Albus could say anything, Yann leaned in and added, “But we need to talk afterwards, okay?”

He nodded. He’d expected this. “Fine.”

With that, Yann cleared his throat and addressed everyone, “We’ll do 5.1 first and ease into 5.2. Hopefully by the time we’ve started 5.2, Astoria and Rose will be back.” He looked over at Craig, who glanced up from his phone and shrugged. “Or not. We’ll see.”

They hadn’t covered much of 5.1 yet in rehearsals. It was a handful of scenes that took place in the graveyard, as Hamlet returned from England and Ophelia was buried. Laertes, distraught with grief and anger at his sister’s lack of burial rights, leaped into her grave so that he might hold her one last time. And Hamlet, seeing this, made himself known and declared that his love was stronger than his. They fought over her body and Laertes had to be dragged off Hamlet before he murdered him on sight for his father’s death.

It was an intense scene that Albus had been dreading for a while. Yann had only come in once before to look at the blocking for it, hoping to cover it a lot more thoroughly at the fight call. Without Polly to stand in for Ophelia’s body, Craig offered to take her place, and Albus watched in silence as he climbed into the grave. He could feel everyone looking at him, but he still refused to make eye contact. He just wanted to focus on the play. I loved Ophelia, he recited, in his head. Forty thousand brothers could not with all their quantity of love make up my sum...

“Hold off the earth a while,” he heard Karl speak, and finally glanced up at him, where he stood staring down into the grave. He hadn’t realised Yann had started the scene, he was so wrapped up in his thoughts. “Till I have caught her once more in mine arms.” He wiped a sleeve over his eyes and climbed into the grave, gathering Craig into his arms and holding him to his chest, before glaring up at Yann and Scorpius. His eyes were full of tears, but his mouth was set with determination.

“Now pile your dust upon the quick and dead, till of this flat a mountain you have made,” Karl continued, breathing ragged sobs into Craig’s green beanie. “To o’ertop old Pelion or the skyish head of blue Olympus!”

“What is he who’s grief bears such an emphasis?” Albus asked, approaching the grave just as Karl looked up at him with fury. “Whose phrase of sorrow conjures the wand’ring stars, and makes them stand like wonder-wounded hearers? This is I, Hamlet the Dane.”

Albus climbed into the grave and Karl was immediately upon him, his hand on his throat as the other clutched Craig ever closer. “The devil take thy soul!” He growled.

“Thou pray’st not well -” Albus struggled under his grasp, snatching at his arms and chest as he feigned an attempt to force him off. But Karl was vicious in his hold on Hamlet, glaring at him with a fire in his eyes that shocked Albus to his core. “I prithee take thy fingers from my throat! For, though I am not splenitive and - and rash, yet I -” He stumbled over the words, and Karl’s grasp weakened. Albus took advantage of the momentary lapse and tried to shove him away, but Karl was relentless. “I have in me something dangerous, which let thy wisdom fear! Hold off thy hand!”

“Pluck them asunder!” Yann read for the King, as he and Scorpius dragged Karl out of the grave. He kicked and howled as Albus glared up at him, holding Craig to his chest.

“Good, my lord, be quiet,” Scorpius hissed at him as Horatio.

“Why, I will fight with him upon this theme, until my eyelids no longer wag!” He gasped, shifting his hold on Craig, wrapping his arms around him and pressing his face into his shoulder with a barely suppressed sob. He waited for the Queen’s line, or for Yann to call the end of the scene, but they never did, so he continued, “I loved Ophelia! Forty thousand brothers could not with all their quantity of love make up my sum!”

He glanced up and only saw Karl’s expression of growing concern, and it made him furious. So he set Craig down against the wall of the grave and stood up, wiping his eyes with the sleeve of his jumper. He was going off script, ignoring lines and the horrified looks of Yann and Scorpius, but he had to get it out. “What wilt thou do for her? Hmm?” Karl blinked and looked away, which only antagonized Hamlet even more. “‘Swounds, show me what thou’t do! Would weep? Would fight? Would fast? Would tear thyself? I’ll do it! Dost thou come to whine? To outface me by leaping in her grave? Be buried quick with her, and so will I!”

“Albus!” Yann shouted, and Albus flinched as he looked over at them. “That’s enough.”

“Sorry,” he said, taking a step back and looking down at his feet. His heart was pounding in his chest and he could feel sweat dripping down his neck. “I got carried away.”

Somewhere above him, Yann sighed and flicked back through their notes. “It’s fine. But our stopping point for tonight's rehearsal is Horatio’s line - ‘Good, my lord, be quiet.’ And Hamlet climbs out of the grave on the Queen’s line - ‘This is mere madness.’ We can do a full run through of the scene once Astoria and Rose get back, if you want.”

Albus nodded and sat down on the edge of the grave. Craig stood up and joined him and, if he saw the way that his hands were shaking and his bottom lip was trembling, he didn’t say anything about it.

Yann tapped his pen against his chin and stared down into the grave. “I’m just not sure about the way Hamlet is jumping in after Laertes. It doesn’t feel natural,” he mused.

Craig cleared his throat and raised a hand. “I know I’m supposed to be dead, but…” Albus chuckled at that, in spite of himself, although the sound was hollow. “Could Laertes pull Hamlet into the grave? Rather than jumping in after him?”

Yann considered, for a moment. But then their phone went off and they sighed. “Can we take five? Erin is calling me.”

As Yann took the call, Albus waited for a comment from Karl about Erin - the director of the musical Yann was working on, and the “villain who kept stealing their choreographer” - but it never came. He glanced over and watched as Scorpius and Karl spoke to each other in hushed tones, near the front of the stage. He knew they were talking about him, from the way they kept stealing glances at him. Something about the sight of it made his heart clench in his chest - made him want to get up and leave again.

But then Craig suddenly rested his head on Albus’s shoulder, distracting him from Karl and Scorpius’s secret conversation. “I don’t know how you actors do it,” he said, with a yawn. “It’s very exhausting, being dead.”

Albus gave him a weak smile. “I’m still not an actor,” he replied, aware of the irony considering his outburst just moments ago. “Say the word and I’ll come running back to the design department.”

“I wish you would. It’s lonely up in the rigs and the lighting desk without you.” He paused and rested his chin on Albus’s shoulder, staring up at him with those dark eyes. “Where did you go last night? We were worried about you.”

catch the irony of Craig's role in this scene :')

[drarry-with-a-side-of-harry]

THAT WAS ONE OF THE GAYEST EPISODES IN A HOT MINUTE LMAOOOO WTF

so i’ve just watched series 4 episode 10 ‘A Herald of the New Age’ uhhhhhh

wait wait wait so gwen’s gone for two (2) seconds and Arthur and Merlin are flirting like they’re in a school playground all over again lmaoooo i’m so done

so first of all they get back to Camelot and Merlin’s falls back into his concerned boyfriend routine 🥺🥺🥺🥺 SIDE NOTE THE KNIGHTS ARE JUST FULLY AWARE OF THESE TWO AT THIS POINT THEY ALWAYS FLIRT AND ARE REALLY TENDER IN FRONT OF THEM I CANNOT BE ARSED anyway Merlin asks Arthur if he’s alright and Arthur’s all sad and brooding 🥺🥺🥺 so Merlin says he was being quiet and Arthur just answers him with a snide remark but with none of the laughter and ARTHUR, KING, SWEETIE WHY WON’T YOU JUST LET THIS BOY HELP YOU???? 🥺🥺🥺🥺

SO THEN WE SKIP AHEAD A BIT AND OMFG LET ME TELL YOU I WAS CACKLING WITH LAUGHTER AND KEPT HAVING TO PAUSE IT. THIS SHIT IS GOLDEN

so Merlin walks in on Arthur asleep at his desk. if you’ve watched the show you will remember this scene because it’s too iconic but am i gonna run through it anyway?? you’re damn right i am because i am obsessed lmaoooooo

SO MERLIN JUST STRAIGHT UP BANGS ON THE DESK REALLY FUCKING LOUDLY TO GET HIM TO WAKE UP HAHAHAHAHHAA AND ARTHUR HAS FOOD ALL OVER HIS FACE I-

who fucking wrote this shit it’s too good man

Arthur jumps out of his mind and Merlin the little shit has the audacity to say “oh i’m sorry i didn’t mean to scare you” HAHAHAHAHAHA YOU ABSOLUTE DICKHEAD MERLIN 😭😭😭😭😭😭 and he barely even cracks a smile how this man holds it together i will never know. honestly how Colin Morgan managed to deliver that just once without cracking up is beyond me.

OH BUT WE’RE FAR FROM FINISHED

so Arthur responds “you didn’t scare me, i was asleep” LMAOOOOO YEAH BITCH WE KNOW HAHAHAHAHAHA IM STILL SCREAMING ABOUT THIS

so now Merlin starts to laugh a bit but he’s holding it together. you know when you’re in school and something funny happens with your mates and you shouldn’t laugh because you’re meant to be working but you can’t not laugh and you’re all just snorting to stop yourselves from laughing??? yeah same energy

Arthur: “why’ve you got that stupid smile on your face?” baby i don’t know what to tell you anymore

Merlin: “it’s nothing. why were you sleeping with your head on the table?” and his face just drops to confusion HOW DOES HE NOT KEEP LAUGHING

Arthur: “i fell asleep while i was reading” uh huh okay sure thing

Merlin: “what were you reading?” this is turning into the most mundane conversation you’ve ever heard but it’s priceless because Arthur’s still half asleep and Merlin’s just fucking with him i’m so done

Arthur looks around trying think of something and realises be can’t lie anymore so this bitch just has to say “i am the King of Camelot i do not have to answer to the likes of you” LMAOOOOOOOO KING JUST ADMIT YOURE AN IDIOT AND LEAVE and Arthur’s almost cracking a smile at this point too we get it you love him

Merlin: “oh you’re in a good mood, you obviously got out of the wrong side of the table” AND THIS MAN JUST STARTS PISSING HIMSELF AT HIS OWN JOKE I-

HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA

AND ARTHUR’S DEADPAN STARE IS PRICELESS

and Merlin explains the joke while he’s still laughing and Arthur replies “that’s extremely clever and funny Merlin there really are no limits to your wit now will you please just get me some breakfast” HAHAHAHAHHAA MATE WHEN I SAY IM HOWLING WRITING THIS POST

‘there really are no limits to your wit’ sent me

so Merlin goes to get breakfast and Arthur (who has loads of food on his face remember) uses the plate as a mirror OH BOY

THIS SCENE COULD NOT BE ANY FUNNIER I SWEAR

he lowers the plate with another deadpan stare aimed at the door. boy is FUMING LMAOOOOOOOO

he shouts Merlin and i will suck my own big toe if there is anyone in the castle Camelot that didn’t hear him MY GOD THAT WAS PRICELESS

me current state: deceased

OH AND IT DOESN’T STOP THERE OH NO NO NO

so the very next scene we’re at training Arthur tells the lads to pair up and Gwaine asks what’s in his hair. Arthur’s face is just a picture. Merlin helpfully answers that it’s stew. Leon asks him why he’s got stew in his hair. Merlin quickly responds “because he was reading” in that tone when Merlin’s being a right snarky little shit oh you know

the lads just turn to look at Arthur like “wtf man??”

Arthur takes a minute and says “change of plan. i think we’ll try something different” lmaoooo you just know what’s coming next

so Merlin’s used for sword practise

Arthur has first go and the lads are smirking at them and each other like “oh these two had another domestic” “about the stew this time ahhh right” lmaooooo

JUST GOLD

there was a whole two (2) minutes of just solid flirting, taking the piss and just generally annoying the shit out of each other i-

OH AND THERE’S MORE

it’s nighttime now and this cheeky bastard asks “would you like me to make up the bed Sire, or will you be sleeping on the table again?” with a little smile on his face HAHAHAHAHAHAHA it just keeps getting better this episode really is a gift

Arthur doesn’t respond because he’s all moody again and Merlin all but roles his eyes all he wants to do is cheer up his boyfriend 🥺🥺🥺🥺🥺🥺 so he sighs “is this about Gwen” and Merlin looks kinda irritated and sad and Arthur won’t even look at him and Merlin says “we all miss her. you more than anyone” and Arthur cuts him off with “you can go now” maaaaate the feels

Merlin: “Arthur”

Arthur: “get out” oh so now you look at him

omfg you were happy earlier can you please just let him help you ffs you’re just making each other really fucking sad and it’s not helping anything

and Merlin leaves and Arthur kind of looks over his shoulder and almost shakes his head like he doesn’t actually want him to go 🥺🥺 and every damn time something like this happens i expect him to say “no, wait” 🥺🥺🥺🥺🥺

and now Arthur looks even more sad. well baby i don’t know what to tell you but you did just do that to yourself a little bit. just leT MERLIN HELP YOU ffs

SO Merlin storms in and dad Gaius is at the table reading and Merlin’s just ranting that he’s done being nice to Arthur and he doesn’t get any thanks and he’s saved his life so many times and all he ever does is shout at him. yeah boy we know aND SO DOES GAIUS because this man does not look up at him!!!!!! tell me that’s not Merlin ranting to his dad about his crush i swear-

Gaius tells him there’s more important things to worry about like the plot of this episode perhaps??? lmaoooo this is getting out of hand now. dad’s so done with Merlin’s lovesick bullshit lmaoo

so we move on a bit and Arthur tells his uncle that Merlin thinks Elyan’s possessed oh so now dad’s dead you value Merlin’s counsel huh king?? we love to see it

we love that Merlin can speak up a bit more now ehehehe

so uncle says that Merlin’s just tryna protect his friend and Arthur just looks at Merlin like “i believe you don’t worry but we need evidence man”

oh my christ we’re only half way through true episode i’ll try and speed things up a bit i think the main Merthur action’s done anyway

Merlin breaks Elyan out. arrives back at Camelot and walks into the throne room. Arthur’s drinking and reading something and just looks up when Merlin enters with the most glorious look on his face like “oh this bitch is back finally” and carefully considers what he’s gonna say to him 😂😂😭😭😭

Arthur: “Merlin! good of you to join me. perhaps i should fill you in on all that’s been happening while you’ve been... that’s a good question. what the hell have you been doing??” LMAOOOOO these two i can’t

Merlin: “i was...”

Arthur (cutting him off): “choose your next words carefully. they may be you last” pahahahahahaha alright king pipe down

Merlin: “i was searching.. in the woods.... for some herbs for Gaius” boy’s just rambling about herbs and says he got lost

Arthur: “you mean to tell me that you’ve been wandering around in the woods all night???”

and the look on this man’s face. WONDERFUL

Merlin says yes and Arthur asks what happened to his head because it’s bruised and i just knew it was coming ffs “i tripped over a root and hit my head on a tree and knocked myself out” this fucking moron. this fool i despair

Arthur just toys with him and offers him some food with him at the table is it a joke though Arthur if you actually just want to have a lunch date with him and Merlin realises he’s joking and we get another golden deadpan stare from Arthur and it’s the funniest shit damn this episode is blessed and Arthur just stares him down as he fucks off out of the room lmaooooooo 😭😭😭😭😭😭 and then to finish it off dramatically picks up his paper again so we all know he’s back to ‘important reading’ uh huh Arthur sure you’re not just thinking about that interaction?? like the rest of us clowns

fast forward and Arthur let’s Elyan go and somehow Merlin’s there again???

anyway Arthur talks to his uncle and when he’s gone Arthur confides in Merlin and Gaius i’m sorry but we have to stan some A+ development (also i really hope Arthur’s starting to lose trust in his uncle because i was sort of getting that vibe from this scene idk we can only hope)

Merlin’s in Arthur’s chambers that night clearing up and Arthur says “that’ll be all Merlin” anD MERLIN REPLIES “are you sure you don’t want me to stay?” UMMMMMMM FOR WHAT????? I WAS UNDER THE IMPRESSION THAT ARTHUR WAS GOING TO SLEEP UHHHHHHHHHHHHH IDK MAN SEEMS KINDA SUS TO ME WHAT’RE YOU GONNA DO MERLIN JUST SLEEP IN HIS BED WITH HIM??? HMMMMMMMMM THE PLOT MAJORLY THICKENS BECAUSE ARTHUR DOESN’T EVEN FIND THIS AN ODD SUGGESTION BECAUSE HIS RESPONSE IS JUST “think i’m gonna get an early night” OKAY SO FIRST OF ALL THAT IMPLIES THAT HIM AND MERLIN WOULD BE- *BIG COUGH COUGH*

AND SECONDLY THAT IMPLIES THAT THIS IS SOMETHING THEY’VE DONE BEFORE I REALLY DON’T KNOW WHAT TO DO WITH THIS INFORMATION THE EVIDENCE SEEMS PRETTY CONCLUSIVE TO ME YOUR HONOUR

then they have a nice little joke about Merlin not getting an early night lmaooo we do love to see the bants

so later on Merlin follows Arthur into the woods lmao of course he does would you really expect anything less at this point?? and they have this whole why are you here?! no why are you here?! moment lmao

Arthur tells him he’s free to go back to Camelot at any time sweetie you really think that’s gonna happen?? you fool Arthur Pendrgaaon because obviously Merlin’s not going anywhere AND THEN ARTHUR’S BACK TO BEING A SELF SACRIFICIAL LITTLE SHIT AGAIN BABY YOU’RE KING NOW YOU CAN’T BE SO WILLING TO DIE AT EVERY FUCKING PROBLEM WTF we find out that this whole thing’s Arthur’s fault but this whole scene is honestly so nice and lovely and warm and he knows what he did was wrong and that he was a stupid young man 🥺🥺🥺🥺🥺🥺 and the druid boy forgives him 🥺🥺🥺🥺🥺🥺🥺🥺🥺🥺🥺 and he’s CRYING omg recently Merlin’s constantly on the verge of tears but when Arthur cries you know some bad shit’s going down and the music omgggg 🥺🥺🥺🥺🥺 “from this day forth the druid people will be treated with the respect they deserve, i give you my word” 🥺🥺🥺🥺🥺🥺🥺🥺 i love him your honour

so then we’re back in Arthur’s chambers and Merlin says “you know that was incredibly moving what you said at the shrine” Arthur says “it served it’s purpose” because Elyan’s alright ARTHUR STOP PRETENDING YOU DON’T CARE TO LOOK COOL FOR YOU BOYFRIEND MERLIN KNOWS YOU’RE 10X THE MAN YOUR FATHER EVER WAS

Merlin says “you meant it” and then Arthur gets a bit snappy because he’s embarrassed 🥺🥺🥺 and Merlin says “i don’t ever think i’ve seen you cry before. well not like that. you had tears running down your cheeks it’s nice to see this new sensitive emotional side to you, it suits you” doesn’t it just baby???? 🥺🥺🥺🥺 then we get a classic shut up Merlin and this is the first time Arthur dares to look at him throughout this conversation 😭😭😭 and then Merlin mocks him *gasp* “i really thought you’d changed” lmaoooo “then you’re as stupid as you are ugly” lmaooooooo Arthur just tell him he’s pretty and leave

and just to finish things off

Arthur’s walking to the door

Merlin: “so there’s no chance that we could have a hug?” and he’s half 🥺 and half smiling/laughing ready to play it off

Arthur turns back to him and starts play running towards him and Merlin runs away and Arthur tackles him off screen aND YOU CANNOT TELL ME ARTHUR DID NOT GIVE THAT MAN THE BIGGEST HUG WHEN THEY WERE BOTH DOWN ON THE GROUND AHHHHHHHHAHAHAHA THEH ARE SO PURE I LOVE IT 🥺🥺🥺🥺😭😭😭😭😭😭😭 can you not just imagine these two giggling and chasing each other round the room i-

[patandpran]

The Nuisance and the Handsome Prince - A Sarawatine Medieval AU - Chapter 19

Tine is an aspiring Squire who has been training his whole life to work alongside the Kingdom’s finest Knights. Sarawat is a Prince who, on the outside, seems fierce and unapproachable. He is disinterested in any of his royal duties, namely his Knight training. What happens when Tine is assigned to be the fierce and handsome prince’s Squire?

Find the Masterpost here Read on Archiveofourown here.

Sarawat woke and his head felt like it had been shattered into a million pieces. There was a part of him that wanted to open his eyes but another warned him of the consequences of that action. The pain would not exactly be manageable.

“Wat…?”

Sarawat heard a voice calling to him and it made warmth spread through him, extinguishing some of the pain that he was in.

“Wat…. Oh, god. Please wake up.”

When Sarawat recognized the voice as Tine’s, his eyes sprang open and the pain exploded behind his eyes. How had he got here? He could smell the irony tang of his own blood and the dankness of tepid water that loomed in the dungeons.

“You’re okay…”

The sound of relief in Tine’s voice made Sarawat swell with hope. He winced in concentration, willing his blurry vision to focus enough to make out Tine in the distant. As he focused, suddenly he was able to see that he was separated from the man that he loved by cell bars.

The Prince was locked in a cell as well.

“What the hell?” Sarawat cried out in shock as he rushed toward the bars, wrapping his hands around them and shaking them will all his remaining strength.

Tine watched in anguish as the Prince let out a howl of frustration before he crumpled into a helpless heap. Tine wished he could reach Sarawat to comfort him in some way but he wasn’t sure there was anything that could help the Prince at this point.

“Sarawat… how is your head?”

Tine asked gently after a few minutes of silence. He needed to know if Boss had caused any permanent damage to the Prince. Tine couldn’t wait to get his hands on Boss, although he wondered if he would ever have the chance to. Their fates did not exactly look very promising at the present moment.

“I’m fine.”

Sarawat responded but the weakness in his voice betrayed him. It would take a while for the Prince to get his strength back but it didn’t seem to matter at that point. Sarawat slowly maneuvered himself so that his back was against the cold stone wall of the cell. He held his head in his hands and breathed deeply in an attempt to keep the pain at bay.

“This is all my fault.” Tine murmured in sudden horror.

Sarawat was broken and bloodied because of him and nothing else. If Tine had never going to the Squire Trials, if he had never been so selfishly driven by revenge, the Prince would not be in this position. Tine’s eyes welled with tears at the realization. “Wat, I’m so sorry.” Tine continued but the Prince looked up at Tine with a determined look on his face.

“Tine.” Sarawat stated. “There is something more at work here, something bigger than us. I was lured here and I think this is only one step of the plan. I want you to hear this clearly: this is not your fault. I chose to come here, knowing very well that there was a chance I was walking into a trap. That didn’t matter to me. You are worth it.”

“I am not worth your freedom!” Tine argued, his frustration with himself pouring out as tears began to stain his cheeks. “You have to stop loving me, Sarawat, it’s going to be the death of you.”

Sarawat’s gaze softened slightly and a shy smile stretched across his lips. “Loving you is both the best and stupidest thing I’ve ever done but there’s not one part of me that regrets it.”

Tine would never stop being surprised by Sarawat’s words. Even when he heard them for the first time, it was so hard to fathom that the Prince loved someone as ordinary and common as him.

“…I love you too, you know.” Tine admitted as he wiped away his tears. “I don’t know when it started but… denying it is like denying the moon hanging in the sky at night.”

“The moon…” Sarawat repeated in a hushed tone. He had a look of focus in his eyes as if he was trying to remember something.

Tine’s eyes grew wide and he questioned, “The moon? That’s what you’re taking away from the fact that I just confessed my feelings for you?”

Sarawat looked up apologetically at Tine. “No, I’m sorry. That just reminded me of something that my Mother said to me… she told me to look to the moon for help… but… I’m not sure what that means…”

“Wat…” Tine deadpanned. “I just told you that I love you.”

Sarawat smiled mischievously. “Maybe I just wanted to hear it again.”

Tine found himself laughing through tears. Of course Sarawat would be the one to make a joke at a time like this. Sarawat moved closer to the front of the cell and muttered, “The irony that we’re able to say that to one another now that we’re locked away together.”

“Better than being locked away alone.” Tine expressed half-heartedly. “What do you think they’re planning to do with us anyway?”

“I think there is a plot to get my Father off the throne.” Sarawat explained darkly. “And with me out of the way, I can’t become the King either and Phukong is not of age yet.”

“What about your Mother?” Tine asked. “Would she not just become Queen of the realm?”

“She is not of royal blood.” Sarawat muttered. “It is an archaic detail but if you are not of the lineage, you cannot take the throne.”

“That should be the first thing you change when you are crowned.” Tine suggested, his brow furrowed.

“If I am crowned…” Sarawat corrected.

“I won’t let anything happen to you.” Tine promised the Prince. “Not while I am breathing.”

“See that’s the problem…” Sarawat’s gaze dropped to the ground.  “I am not sure how much longer they are going to let us live…”

The silence that filled up the dungeon was suffocating. Tine knew the likelihood of walking out of the castle alive was slim but the idea of Sarawat being harmed made his blood boil.

They had to find a way out….

++++++++++++++

The next morning the Castle was in complete disarray.

The news that the Prince had fled the castle with his Squire spread like wildfire. A letter had been found in the East Tower detailing his plan of escape with Tine who he had freed from the Dungeon. The Queen and King had yet to make a statement about the matter but the Queen’s sobs could be heard throughout the castle.

No one was exactly sure how they had made their escape in the dead of the night but a search party had been sent out to find them and extra Guards were patrolling the Castle halls and courtyard, lead by the Head Knight.

The Revelries for that evening had been put on hold until the Prince’s return (if he returned). Ohm was pacing the hall outside of the Kitchen, waiting for Fong to emerge. He felt sick to his stomach. He had a hard time believing that Tine would just run away. It was unlike his best friend to escape his problems in such a way.

Fong slipped into the hallway and a look of relief spread across his face when he saw Ohm. “I was worried that you had gone as well…” Fong admitted, looking a bit sheepish.

“I wouldn’t leave you.” Ohm responded and took Fong’s hands in his to lead him to a spot that was much more private.

Ohm bowed his head down to meet Fong’s so there foreheads were touching. Even though they had been alone together many times before, Fong still felt his heart racing as Ohm looked down at him through thick eyelashes.

“I was worried that they were going to take you into custody too.” Fong shared, feeling Ohm’s breath dancing on his cheek.

“Just in case, I better do this now… before it’s too late.” Ohm responded and leaned down to press his lips against Fong’s.

Fong’s eyes closed and melted into the kiss immediately, hoping to goodness that no one would interrupt them. He had imagine what it would be like to kiss the Squire a million times before but nothing lived up to the real thing.

When they separated, it took a moment for Fong to regain his breath and Ohm looked shyer than he ever had before. Fong brought one hand up to Ohm’s face and gently brought his thumb along the edge of Ohm’s jaw.

An awkward cough caused Fong and Ohm to put distance between them. Sir Man stood, looking somewhere between amused and embarrassed. Ohm turned toward the Knight and asked, “Anything?”

“There has been no sign of the Prince or Tine at their family residence.” Man explained in a serious tone. “Tine and Type’s father is still in hiding but this has made keeping him safe even more complicated… Has Mil awoken yet?”

Ohm shook his head, “He remains unconscious but the younger Prince has gone to visit him quite a few times… I know I might be biased but I don’t think Mil has anything to do with the Prince and Tine’s disappearance.”

“Sarawat would not just run away like this.” Man shook his head in disbelief. “And I don’t think Tine would either… something else is at play here but what?”

“What are you all whispering about in the corner like this?”

Man, Fong and Ohm jumped at the voice. Sir Boss looked between the three of them with suspicion in his eyes. His usual Jester-like energy was nowhere to be seen and instead he had adopted quite a serious demeanour.

“We were just discussing the Prince’s… escape.” Man blurted out to satiate his friend’s curiosity.

Sir Boss raised an eyebrow. “Yes, it is quite out of character for Sarawat to take such a sudden leave like this… that Squire of his really turned the Prince into someone I don’t even recognize…”

Fong put a hand on Ohm who’s own hands had turned into defensive fists. He knew better than to start a fight with a Knight but a part of him was somewhat willing to take the risk to defend Tine’s honour.

“Boss.” Man hissed, his eyes narrowed in warning. “You really should keep your opinions to yourself sometimes.”

Boss rolled his eyes and turned away from Ohm and Fong, focusing his attention on Man. “The Head Knight needs us for consultation. He knows we are close with the Prince so he wants us to share any information we might have on where he might have gone.”

Ohm wondered why Boss seemed so different than before. It was as if he had dropped an act that he had been playing for quite a long time. Even Man seemed off-put by the change as he nodded at his friend. With that, Boss stalked off and seemed to expect for Man to follow.

Man hung back for a brief moment and murmured to Ohm, “Go see Green. He is one of us. I will report back anything I find. Be careful who you trust. By the Moon.”

“By the Moon.” Ohm murmured back and slipped his hand into Fong’s, squeezing it tightly, as he watched Man run to catch up with Boss.

++++++++++++++++++++

Phukong chewed his lip with worry as he watched Mil’s chest rise and fall.

There was so much slipping through his fingers and he felt like he could barely grasp any of it. First Mil and now his brother was gone too. Everything felt like it was falling apart just as he started to discover what his purpose was.

His plan had worked but he did not think that this would be the aftermath. There were too many casualties and something seemed to be amiss. If Phukong could only figure out what it was… Why had his brother done something so out of character? Why had Sarawat not consulted him first?

The younger Prince had spent the entire morning consoling his Mother while his Father raged at the discovery of Sarawat’s letter. Phukong knew better than to protest his father’s reaction and instead focused his energy on comforting his Mother.

It didn’t take long for his Father to storm out of the room which is when his Mother had murmured, in somewhat of a daze, “You have done enough, my son. Please… if you can, go ask the Bear if he knows where the Wolf is.”

Worry and grief changed people. For Phukong, worry lived in his chest. As he watched Mil, seemingly sleeping peacefully, he felt like it was hard to breathe. He was somewhat envious of Mil’s state. He wished he could escape into a worry-free world like Mil was living in.

Phukong knew there were no answers that he could receive from an unconscious Mil. He did not have the time to linger any longer, even though his heart was tethering him to the spot.

As he was the son of the Head Knight, Mil had a private room in the Infirmary. Phukong looked around to check if they were alone and crouched down beside the bed, “Please come back to me, Mil. Sarawat is gone and…. without you too, it’s too much. I need you.”

Phukong rose to his feet and leaned forward to press his lips to Mil’s forehead. Even though their last few interactions had not been the most pleasant, Phukong still cared deeply for the man that lay before him and he hoped desperately that he would wake up soon.

++++++++++++

“The Revelries will go forward this evening.” The King declared to the crowd. “With or without the Prince.”

The Head Knight stood to the right of the King with a smug look on his face. It had not taken much to convince the King to go forward with the event. Mentions of ‘civil unrest’ and ‘doubt from the people’ were enough to make the Celebrations be re-scheduled, despite the Prince’s absence.

Ohm scowled at the announcement and knew that he needed to find Green as soon as possible. He weaved through the crowd in the courtyard and made his way toward Green’s Quarters. He did not know the Royal Tailor well but Ohm knew enough to trust the man.

He knocked on the Tailor’s door and Green’s assistant, Pear, was the one to open it. “Can we help you, Squire?”

“I hope so.” Ohm murmured, his voice low. “I am looking for some attire for this evening’s event.”

Pear opened the door all the way and nodded for Ohm to come in. When Ohm walked in the door, he saw that a small council of people stood within the Tailor’s quarters. Pear closed the door behind him and he drank in those who surrounded him.

Ohm bowed his head and murmured, “By the Moon.”

“By the Moon.” The rest of the room chorused back, guaranteeing their allegiance to the cause.

+++++++++++++

Mil’s head hurt like hell. He felt like he had not drank water in weeks and his stomach was tied in knots. He felt like he was waking up from a nightmare, loose bits of disjointed information that had been shared with him floated into his memory.

“not when you become the Prince of the Kingdom after I’m through…”

His Father’s words sounded in his mind and Mil shot up in his bed, breathing raggedly at the realization of what horrors his Father was going to commit to achieve his goals.

The image of Sarawat’s face before the Prince attacked him flashed in Mil’s mind. The visual made him wince with guilt and

The Head Knight had told him every step of the plan. Mil could stop him. He could make it up to Sarawat…. he could make it up to Phukong.

Mil’s hand subconsciously floated to his forehead where he remembered Phukong had kissed him earlier that day. He had wanted to wake up so badly but his mind had not quite been ready to regain consciousness. He wished he could tell Phukong how sorry he was. He wished he could find him, wrap his arms around the younger Prince and tell him how stupid he had been, how selfish he had been.

While Mil had always wanted his Father’s approval, it was time for Mil to start thinking on his own. This wasn’t for the better of the Kingdom. It was for his Father’s own benefit. The man was not driven by justice or any other purpose than selfishness. It was for the gaining of power and power alone.

But now Mil had to take action, despite how weak he felt. He knew where the Prince was and he had to be by his friend’s side. He couldn’t abandon him in a time like this, not when everything was at stake.

Mil saw that the sword that Tine’s father had crafted lay by his bedside. When his Father told him the truth about the sword and Tine’s identity, it had felt like such a slap in the face but now Mil knew that there was more to all this than his personal feelings or opinions about one individual. Even if that individual was who his best friend cared for more than the world.

Mil grabbed the sword and jumped to his feet, determined to make up for his past mistakes and misjudgements.

“Wat. I’m coming.”

++++++++++++

The Queen looked out the East Tower window at the Moon. Change was coming and while she did not know where her eldest son was presently, she knew that he was not far. Her tears earlier that day had been for show. She was stronger than that and trusted her son implicitly.

“Everything is falling into place, Your Highness.”

The Queen turned her head to see Fang lingering in the doorway, a focused look on the Knight’s face.

The Queen nodded slowly, a small smile on her lips. “Yes, Fang. I know it as surely as the Moon hangs in the sky.”

[sweater-daddiesdumbdork]

Worthwhile

Summery: After math of battle between Steve, Bucky and Tony. Before arriving in Wakanda. Steve x Bucky x Y/n. Some angsty moments

Word Count: 2307

Done for a challenge by bigbandbombshell. Song BTSK by ms mr and picture the bottom northern lights landscape. 

I found you in pieces you'd been torn apart A million one reasons to end before you start But deep down I knew No matter what in the end, it'd be me and you

Big teeth small kiss I turn to wax and melt like this Melt like this

~ BTSK Lyrics

Zemo had done it

Dismantled the team. 

You had been there when Tony saw the video, Buckys pain crossing over his face when Tony realized it was because of the Winter Solider his parents were murdered. It was cold hearted assassination, as The Winter Solider was known for. No survivors. A stain on Buckys soul you doubted he would ever come to terms with, Steves breath was baited waiting for the drop.

“Tony Tony”

“Did you know”

“I didn't know it was him” 

“DONT BULLSHIT ME ROGERS, DID YOU KNOW?”

Steve paused, then with a single answer he admitted the truth. “Yes”

And thats what resulted to where you were now. Steve had gotten you two out, with damages. Both men were brutally beat all over from Tonys grief, yourself sporting your own scrapes. But he dismantled you early, a hit to your head threatening your senses for now. Holing up in some no name motel in a nearby Siberian town, you woke to find yourself in a dimly lit room, two double beds, shitty wood panneling, dusty curtains blocking out the glare of light, Steve and Bucky looming over you to get you to awaken.

“Ugh, what happened?” Your hand braced against your forehead as you moved to a sit, dropping your face into your hands, as your elbows braced on your knees. A wave of nausea washed over you, threatening to over take you but then it dulled to a numb sensation. Steve squatted in front of you, looking you over momentarily with a grasp of his hands on your face making you focus on his searching eyes.

“You look like your going to be okay.” You snorted in thanks to his assessment, your fingers now tenderly probing to find where you were hit, wincing at the thump. Leave it to Tony to leave a bump on your head. Not your finest moment. Bucky lowered next to you on the edge of the bed, you leaned a bit against his right arm and looked at the two men. “We took out the Ironman suit, Tony wasn't going to stop. Zemo was taken into custody, T’Challa must have followed us when we left Germany.” 

Your eyes turn to Bucky, and you don’t remark on his arm, the man looked defeated and exhausted. Dark marks under his eyes and blossoming bruises starting to form over whatever bare skin showed. You could only imagine the condition of his chest and back. Tonys suit was top of the line defense and weaponry, even against an enhanced. You move to a stand, going into the bathroom, running some hot water in the sink and splash it against your face, cleaning off any of the dried blood. You can hear Steve remark to Bucky that he would be back. Where he was going off to, you didn't know, but trusted whatever he had in mind. Grabbing a towel. You notice that much of Buckys marks are from where he hadn't cleaned up, so you grab some stuff from the limited bathroom and approach him. 

“Let me help you? Should probably see what else needs to be patched up.”

You offer as you approach him, his eyes are shadowed as he looked up “No i’m alright. Don’t worry about me”

You werent gonna give him a choice though, cupping his face and tilting it up so you can get a better look, shaking head. “Sorry, I really wasn't gonna give to much of a choice Buck.”

He didn't argue, remained still as you cleaned up the cuts, but he remarked. “You know that bump to the head didn't change your demeanor much.” You dabbed at his eyebrow carefully. 

“I got a hard head. Its going to take more then a smack to the temple to change who I am. You on the other hand Barnes are in need of stitches.” 

Pushing you back lightly, he got up to go to the bathroom mirror, tilting his face this way and that, shrugging “Eh, I've dealt with worst. I will be fine.” Sure enough that made you sigh. You haven't known Bucky Barnes for long, but he never seemed to think he was worth the effort. 

Steve is guiding the quinjet with the coordinates programmed into the dash, Bucky is sitting across from you “Whats going to happen to your friends?” Bucky asked after being silent for so long. You lift your head to look at him, knowing the sacrifice they all made to get here. “Whatever it is, I will deal with it” Steve says heavily, knowing that the team were now considered enemies and in a maximum gaurded facility. But when Captain says he will deal with it, you know the matter is closed. Bucky flexes his metal arm, its a part of him, but foreign, you see in his face he is regarding it as something that makes him less worthwhile, less of a good man. A perfect solider. “I don’t know if Im worth all this Steve.” Your jaw clenches, you had spent months studying Sgt James  Buchanan “Bucky”  Barnes. His time during the Howling Commandos, the entire time he was in service. Many a night Steve told you stories that could never be found in any paperwork. To see this man think of himself as anything less then worthwhile, bullshit. Steve whipped his head around at this. “What you did all those years, That wasn’t you. You didn’t have a choice” Buckys jaw is set now, completely unforgiving of what was done to him, the testing, brainwashing, torture and whom it made him become. “I know.... But I did it” 

His gaze went to his missing arm, and he cussed under his breath. “This on the other hand is gonna be far more difficult to deal with.” You leaned in against the bathrooms door frame, Your gaze caught his in the mirror, and you smiled at him. “We will figure it out Bucky, this cant be the first time you’ve lost your arm?” He rubbed at the shoulder where the metal and body connected. 

“Actually, it is. Titanium doesn't necessarily wear out. I've never had cause to have it changed out, even after all the experiments.” He sighed as he pushed away from the sink and you stepped back into the hotel room. It was then Steve came back to the room “Alright, this is the plan. T’Challa is going to help us. Being war criminals now, we need to go into hiding, and Wakanda is in his control, borders are up against the rest of the world. You and Bucky are going there. And with the Vibranium.... your arm can be replaced.” Although minutes ago Bucky had seemed upset about the loss of his limb, he showed no emotion to this. Again reverting back to the not worth the effort vibe. “The King isnt out to kill me any longer?” Bucky sounded a bit doubtful, but Steve gave a shake of his head.

“No, he knows the truth now, that you had nothing to do with the bombing.” Steve continued with the plan. “There’s an SUV outside for you two, and heres where you need to rendezvous with T’Challas jet.” handing you a piece of paper, this is the moment you held up a hand as if asking a question, and his brow cocked at you. “Is that necessary Y/n?” 

“Uh yea, since when did CAPTAIN AMERICA STEAL CARS?” 

“Nazi Germany, okay. Its a necessary skill back then, and no I’m not teaching you.”

Bucky grinned, finally, hearing the two of you and whispered loudly to you. “Don;t worry, I will teach you later.” You made a fist pump in victory, smirking at the Captain. Just as quickly as Bucky lightened up, he got serious. “Your going after them Steve.” Steve glanced over the room, but they hadn't had any supplies with them, just Steves captain suit and shield. Underneath it he had on civilian clothes. Hell you were still in the stealth suit you typically dressed in on missions. Steve just looked at Bucky with a set resolve.. 

“I have to. They were only there cause I asked them to be. And we are now considered war criminals, the quicker we can go into hiding the better. I can get in that facility with Natashas help, shes already getting the location.” Honestly you couldn't disagree with his plan. As much as you wanted to be there to get Sam and the rest of them out, you knew the more he had to keep accounted for, the harder it would be for Steve. And Natasha, well this is what she did. She was all about stealth and secrets. Often when the Black Widow was noticed, it was to late. “Okay were all clear on whats happening Y/n and Buck?”

It was hours later, You and Bucky had been driving since leaving the hotel, leaving behind the small village areas and going back out onto the tundra. It would be inconspicuous area for a Wakanda Jet to land, unseen by eyes that could get that info to authorities. You had made yourself comfortable in the passenger seat, watching the passing landscape. It was already starting to get dark, leaving the inner cab in the shadows at this point. You really should say something, Bucky had been so quiet the entire ride, jaw set as if he had been clenching his teeth.

“What are you thinking Buck?” 

His eyes never left the road. His hand clenched tightly around the wheel. “thinking about what a shit show this has turned into. All of this because of me. Steve shouldn't have ever come for me.” 

“What? Bucky I’m calling that bullshit” your arms folding over your chest. You had to, hearing him was making you anger now, wanting just reach right over and throttle that man. If the roles were reversed, you know he would have gone head first with disregard for his safety for Steve. You hated all of them, all the organizations who changed Bucky into this man who couldn't see anything worthwhile about himself. 

He rolled his shoulder. “You asked Y/n, You know for damn sure Steve wouldn't be known as a war criminal right now if he just stayed out of it. Or any of you either. Not signing those accords, fine. Thats standing behind your convictions, and understandable. But coming to save me. No, it wasn't worth that.” 

At this point, you don’t even have the words to explain to him how wrong he was. In between a point in crying since you were tired from the days past events and now this. More then you were willing to just let slide. You sputter out “James  Barnes, pull this fucken car over. RIGHT. NOW” Buckys eyes widen in shock at this outburst, he hit the brake, bringing the SUV to a stand still in the middle of the road. Your heart rate is thumping heavily in your chest at the rolling tension between you, and you turn in the seat to face him. 

“Y/n jesus christ, whats wrong?” He looked over his shoulder at the backseat, see if anything was wrong, out the windows and back at you. He noticed the color in your face was heightened and your eyes flashed at him in anger. 

“Words will never get through your thick skull will they Barnes. No matter what any of us say. I mean...” Your hands go up in the air, exasperated. Yes, Bucky had been traumatized over the years, and you should be more understanding. But today, your nerves were frayed, going into the unknown, you felt just at a loss in what to do. “You know what, forget trying to tell you, how about I just show you!” 

Catching him completely by surprise, your hands grasp the side of his face and you arch across the cars counsel. Your lips crush against his own, and in his surprise he doesn't move, doesn't respond for a few seconds. But then his arm snakes around your hip, dragging you over to settle in his lap, lips parting to dart tongues around each other. Each trying to take control of it. A hand braces against the back of your head, your hair tangling into his fingers grasping you, tilting it to clash teeth, bruise lips, inhale moans. Fuck James Buchanan  Barnes could kiss. 

Separating, a flush of color rise in Buckys cheeks as he looked away at getting caught in the rush, your hands dropping from his face to his shoulders, sighing and looking down yourself. Your own face hot, unsure of what to say now. He softly broke the silence, when his hand moved off the back of your head and dropped to your thigh folded  along his sides. “You know the last time I saw the northern lights like this was when I was with the Howling Commandos. I was getting in place to cover Steves back when he was about to bust into a bunker. It was just as green.” The warmth of his hand seeped into your thigh, you would not be able to forget the weight, the heat of him. “This though, might be a better way to remember them now.” 

A smile crosses your face as you lean back, the cars wheel pressing into your back as you glance out the window to see what he was talking about. The swirl of the green lights painted the sky into one of the most beautiful moments of your life. “You see, that’s all Bucky speaking. The Winter Solider, he wouldn't have found that in the midst of all this.” With a shift after a few moments, sliding back into your seat just as a jet sliced through the green waves covering the sky. “Put it back in drive Barnes, our rides here.” 

[chaptersinprogress]

demolition lovers  |  3

The person who had called out approached the group, stepping into the light.

King's jaw dropped.

"You!"

Rating: T

Warnings: swearing, alcohol

Pairings: Ram/King; Bohn/Duen

"Oi, Nong, what are you doing here too?" asked Bohn, glaring. "Actually, you know what, don't answer that. Of-fucking-course you followed Duen."

King, however, was stuck on a crucial detail.

"Wait!" he exclaimed, whipping around to stare at Bohn. "Nong?!"

"You know each other?" asked Prae.

Bohn groaned and waved his hand tiredly. "Nevermind, I'll explain later. We need to go," he spoke as he began to step forward.

"Oh? And where are you going?"

The children's heads snapped up at the unfamiliar voice. Hadn't there been enough surprises that night already?

The man they had seen on the ground floor earlier stepped into the corridor, King's and Bohn's fathers following him. The severe man eyed them coldly. King's father shook his head minutely at them from behind him.

The three heirs rapidly disentangled themselves, Bohn and King flanking Prae. It was clear that they had spectacularly failed to make it out unnoticed. And from King's father's reaction, they had no longer had any option but to smile and hope for the best.

"Pa!" exclaimed Duen.

King's eyes widened. From the sharp inhale beside him, it was clear Bohn had not been expecting that either.

"Duen, are these the friends you were hoping to find?"

"Ah, yes," said Duen embarrassedly, rubbing the back of his neck.

Bohn's father spoke, trying to diffuse the situation. "If I might suggest, why don't you kids catch up in the reception hall? There is plenty of food and drink, and you need not stand here in the dark."

Duen's father jerked his head at the door. "Go," he ordered the children, before turning and striding back into the hall. The CEOs followed him, but not before giving their children warning glances.

The university students found themselves alone in the corridor once more.

"Bohn," Duen called out, stepping forward.

His companion's arm shot out, pulling him to a halt. With a sharp glance towards the three heirs, he proceeded to drag a protesting Duen out of the corridor and back into the reception hall. The heirs exchanged bewildered glances, struggling to process the sudden turn of events.

"So... are we following them?" asked Prae.

Bohn turned to King, who shrugged. "Guess so," he sighed as they began walking to the door. "We play by their rules for now."

The three found Duen and his friend waiting for them beside the balcony.

"Bohn!" Duen exclaimed, approaching them. He faltered at the sight of Bohn's stony expression but pushed on to stand in front of the three. "I'm sor-"

"Nong, don't you think you should at least introduce yourself and your friend first?" cut in King, wearing an expression of polite indifference. He seethed internally. How dare this kid repeatedly throw his best friend's care back into his face, then still have the guts to come crawling back uninvited. "And address us properly. We're your seniors, show us some respect."

Duen turned white as if he'd been slapped. Eyes flashing, Hot Damn started forward. Duen hastily threw an arm across his friend's chest, stopping him. Bohn's fingers twitched. King watched as Hot Damn's expression smoothed over into a blank mask.

"Ah, I apologise for my lack of manners, Phi," said Duen as he wai-ed. "I'm Duen, 1st year medical student. This is Ram, 1st year engineering student. We both attend the same college as P'Bohn." Duen shoved his elbow pointedly into Ram's side. Getting the hint, Ram wai-ed stiffly.

Meanwhile, King was freaking out on the inside. Shit, he'd finally got Hot Damn's name! Ram. Beautiful. King fought down the smile that threatened to form as he subtly admired the man he'd never thought he'd see again. The name suited him.

Prae smiled courteously, wrapping a hand around King's arm. "It's nice to meet you both. I'm Prae, 1st year engineering." She stepped forward, pulling King along with her, forming a wall between the two juniors and Bohn. "This is P'King, 3rd year engineering. P'King attends the same college as P'Bohn, but I'm from a different university."

"It's nice to meet you, Prae, P'King," came a voice from behind Duen and Ram. A girl in a sleek, figure-hugging gown approached and wrapped her arm around Ram's waist - leaning into him and tucking her head into the crook of his neck. "I'm Ting, 1st year medical student with Duen."

King's stomach dropped.

He couldn't tear his eyes away from the damning way Ting interacted with Ram. Stupid, stupid, stupid. He'd forgotten. Of-fucking-course he'd happened to pick a guy with a girlfriend. No wonder he'd been left like that in the street. He swallowed harshly and steeled himself. This wasn't about him; it was about Bohn. He could throw his pity-party some other time.

Prae had felt King stiffen slightly as Ting made herself comfortable in Ram's personal space. Huh? Oh. Was it possible...? She smirked and very intentionally dragged her hand slowly down King's arm, briefly entangling their fingers and squeezing.

King turned to look down at her, the question clear in his eyes. She tipped her head up at him and merely smiled wider. Stepping closer, Prae slid her arm around his middle and placed her other palm over his chest possessively. Automatically, King's arm fell across her waist.

Out of the corner of her eye, she watched as Ram's jaw tightened and his hands clenched briefly. Aha. Hook, line, sinker. She turned back, only to find Ting smiling dangerously at them. Prae felt her metaphorical hackles rise. She let her upper lip curl higher, revealing a hint of teeth. I see you.

Bohn and Duen however, seemed oblivious to the power play occurring in front of them.

"Bohn...P'Bohn," Duen hastily corrected when he caught King's eye. "I'm really sorry. I know I hurt you and took you for granted. Please let me make it up to you!"

Bohn sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose. "Duen, I'm tired. Please drop it." He looked at King, "Can we go?"

"But I-" started Duen.

Prae interrupted him. "Duen, please. It's quite late, and we're all a little tired. If you want, we can discuss this some other time."

King stared at Prae, betrayed. 'Some other time???' his expression screamed.

Prae returned his stare evenly. 'Well, he certainly doesn't seem like the kind to give up...'

King dropped the issue. There was nothing he could do about it now. Running a hand through his hair, he offered the juniors a stiff smile. "Well, it's time we took our leave then."

Bohn huffed. "Yeah. Bye," he said, abruptly spinning and striding away. King and Prae exchanged awkward goodbyes with the juniors before promptly going after their friend.

Bohn threw himself onto his bed with a groan. Prae and King followed him into the room - Prae joining Bohn on the bed while King leaned against the vanity.

Prae poked Bohn. "So...your boy's from an important family."

"He's not my anything," replied Bohn, half-heartedly swatting at her hand. "Besides, I have no clue who that person was. Dad seemed worried about him, though." He lifted his head to look at King. "Did Dad or Uncle send anything?"

King glanced at his phone and shook his head. "Nothing. But the text about us reaching your place has been read." Walking over to the bed, he settled beside Prae and began taking the pins out of her hair.

Prae frowned at Bohn. "Oh? But isn't he the one you forced to buy you flowers every morning? I'd assumed he was the one you were courting."

"Yeah. But that was until he threw my gifts right in my face and made it explicitly clear how much my presence had been inconveniencing him."

"He said what?!" sputtered King. "And he still had the nerve to crash the fundraiser and try to ask for forgiveness?!" His hands tightened into fists. "I'm going to deck that son of a -"

"Ow! Yes, yes, you're pissed, we get it! But for heaven's sake don't take it out on my hair!" yelped Prae, tugging at King's hands which were pulling painfully at the strands.

King hastily let go. "Sorry," he said sheepishly. He finished pulling out the last of the pins and ran his fingers through the hair to straighten it out.

Bohn rolled onto his side and watched his best friends with narrowed eyes. "By the way, don't think I didn't notice the little show you both put on earlier."

"Show? What show? I don't know what you mean," replied Prae innocently.

"I'm heartbroken. Not blind."

"At least he's self-aware," King whispered to Prae with a laugh.

Bohn remained undeterred. "You made sure to stake your claim on our King very explicitly, N'Prae." Propping himself up on his elbow, he smirked at them. "Hell, you might as well as thrown him to the floor and had your way with him right there!"

Prae's mouth fell open. "BOHN!" King shrieked, thoroughly scandalised.

Said person began howling with laughter at their reactions, half-crying into the mattress. After a few seconds, Prae joined in, giggling into her palm at the thought of the preposterous suggestion.

King buried his face into his hands and groaned. "I hate you two. You both are impossible." He glared at them half-heartedly. "See if I do anything nice for either of you ever again."

"Awww, don't be like that, husband." Prae cooed.

"Do I hear wedding bells ringing?" mocked Bohn, sniggering.

"Oh shut up!" King grabbed a pillow and began whacking Bohn.

Bohn rolled away. "Mercy! I yield, I yield!" he choked out through his laughter.

King huffed, stopping. Bohn took the opportunity to question Prae.

"But really, what was that for?"

Prae lifted a shoulder, smiling mysteriously. "Oh, just testing a theory."

"What theory?" asked King exasperatedly, dragging a hand roughly through his hair. "I hope it was worth it. Because, no offence, but I really don't want to end up marrying you."

"Well I don't want to marry you either," Prae replied coolly. "Besides, your nongs were blocking us from the front and Bohn was directly behind us. No one would have seen anything too out of the ordinary."

She stared pointedly at King. "As for what theory... you're the one who has to explain. You know that guy Ram, don't you?"

"Wait, what?" said Bohn, looking at King for confirmation. "You know him?"

King flushed. "Well not exactly..." he said, squirming slightly. "We're... vaguely acquainted."

"Uh-huh," said Bohn, clearly unconvinced.

Under the weight of his friends' combined stares, King caved. "Ok, fine, I'll tell you," he said, getting up and grabbing the opened bottle of Baileys from the mini-fridge. "But I'm going to need a drink first," he groused, taking a swig straight from the bottle.

Sitting on the couch, he studied the bottle in his hands as if it held the secrets of the universe. "So, you remember the tutoring session 2 weeks ago?"

"You mean the time you went to school on a Saturday evening to help the Year 2s study? How could I forget? I still think you're crazy," said Bohn, shaking his head.

"Oh shush!" Prae smacked his arm. "Just because you don't do nice things doesn't mean that others don't." She turned back to King. "You were saying?"

King rubbed his neck. "So, erm, we kind of almost got mugged on the way back."

"WHAT?!"

"I said almost!" said King hastily. "I basically tried to distract them and let the others escape the opposite way. I thought I could ditch them somehow."

"Why? You could've just taken them," said Bohn, scoffing.

King sent him an unimpressed glare. "What, in front of the nongs? And then have them spread the story throughout the university? That's the exact opposite of what we need."

"So...?" pressed Prae.

King sighed and shrugged. "So I ran into this random club hoping that I could lose them there. Turns out they were more persistent than I thought and they caught me. But Ram got rid of them. That's it. End of story."

"I'm relatively certain that you skipped a few steps in there somewhere," said Prae.

King ducked his head and toed the floor. "SoImighthavekissedhimandaskedhimoutforcoffee..." he mumbled.

"What?"

He raised his voice, vibrant red staining his cheeks. "I said, I might have kissed him and asked him out!"

"What?! Why would you DO that?!" said Bohn aghast.

"I thought that those gangsters would be busy looking for someone running away and not think twice about two people making out, ok?" replied King defensively. "It made sense at the time!"

"But why would you ask him out?!" Bohn half-shrieked.

"I don't know!" King shouted, throwing his hands up. "I thought he kissed me back, and he was hot, and also looked so fucking cool taking those guys out like it was nothing, and it seemed like a good idea, and... I don't know, ok?!"

Prae and Bohn glanced at each other, then back at King.

"Shit..." Bohn stared blankly at him. "You have it bad."

King let his head fall onto the back of the couch with a groan. "I know..." He sighed bitterly. "It doesn't matter. He's straight. And has a faen. No wonder he just walked away without even giving me his name when I asked."

The three sat in silence as they mulled over the events of the night.

"Wait," said Bohn, jerking upright. "Does that mean we'll have to see all three of them around campus? Cause N'Ram's in Engineering, and Duen's not going to let this go, and the girl N'Ting hangs around them both... shit!"

King moaned and started chugging the contents of the bottle in despair.

Prae rolled her eyes as she watched the overdramatic idiots she called best friends have their meltdown.

Urgh. Boys.