#new directive fic

[cosmicalbot]

NEW DIRECTIVE (ULTRAKILL AU)

I have many thoughts about what I suppose is my Ultrakill AU (which I will call "NEW DIRECTIVE") where Gabriel doesn't die, Hell doesn't collapse, and mostly everyone lives so I am putting them all in one spot for future reference (and go read the series here teehee I have many ideas that I will continue to add to it)

Gabriel doesn't die after being stripped of God's Light. After he kills the Council, he throws himself back into Hell, but the force that sustains Hell and its denizens fills the void left by the Light and Gabriel becomes a fallen angel that survives thanks to Hell's energy.

V1 gets fuel from Gabriel in exchange for sparring with him. Angel blood is a lot more potent than standard human blood (it has a bit of godly ichor in it) and tends to last V1 a lot longer since it takes longer to "burn" through. And because Gabriel needs a new purpose now that he's fallen, he asks that V1 spars with him so he can keep his skills sharp (and feel like he's useful in some way).

Hell also doesn't collapse. Because Hell is sort of a living being, it's able to reanimate the dead bodies of husks and create more demons from the remnants of the destroyed ones. In a smaller quantity, of course, but enough to keep an ecosystem alive.

In addition to Hell's ecosystem, the surviving machines have built their own little communities in the upper layers, and even repair some of the more intact machine bodies. These communities are fairly small, usually only about 5-7 units in a group. They have basically realized it's easier to maintain fuel supplies and repair themselves if there are other machines around to assist.

I plan to work V2, Minos, and Sisyphus into future works ;) and also maybe some of my OCs if I feel like it

TLDR; Everyone lives and stays in Hell and there's angst as they struggle to adjust to a life where they don't have to fight and kill to survive.

[leosxrealm]

when i search up ‘(character) x reader’ and 90% of the fics are smut

NOT bashing smut writers/readers!! i just wish there were more fluff or angst ffs :(

[amarriageoftrueminds]

cannot stop thinking about an AU where Bucky gets the same treatment as Steve (ie. serumed and vitarayed.)

So he shoots up to 6' 8" or something ridiculous and is built like a brick shithouse. To everyone else he's almost Too Big, but to Steve it's just like being small again while Bucky is ...Large, and Steve is permanently flustered about it. 😳🥺

[0vergrowngraveyard]

Saw your post about someone dying during the war ha ha hahaha ,,,,, tail .

post in question

no cause like what if

It had been a month since the war ended. A month since Infinite was defeated, since Eggman’s forces were destroyed, and since the process to rebuild the world began.

There were celebrations around the globe. Every citizen of Mobius cheered, voices crying out in pure joy as the empire that nearly gained full control of their planet crumbled out of the sky, pieces of the Death Egg crashing down into the ocean.

In between the parties, however, there were also those in mourning. Many had lost loved ones during the war. Whether they were murdered by the cruel hands of Eggman’s robot army or dying of illnesses and wounds they didn’t have enough supplies to treat, the list of casualties was long. Too long.

And Tails shouldn’t have been on that list.

Tails had been killed on the final day of the war. It was as if the empire had to give them one final punch in the gut. One last victory before it fell apart. And what better victory for Eggman was there? He’d finally gotten rid of the stubborn little fox kit who outsmarted him at nearly every turn.

The fox kit who was only nine years old.

It was hard for Amy and Knuckles— and all of their friends, really— to celebrate without him. They tried to find little ways to include Tails so he would at least be there in spirit. They toasted to him, told stories, and made a small grave for him outside of the Resistance building with plans of making a proper memorial when they got back on their feet.

But even with all that, it was such a noticeable absence that clawed at their hearts. His squeaky little giggle was missing from the choir of other laughs. Computer and machine related tasks were much more challenging without the genius fox kit there to guide them. His seemingly endless optimism and empathic nature weren’t there when things got stressful.

For someone so small, he had such a massive presence in all of their lives. And now that was just gone.

The only one who didn’t seem all that bothered by it was Sonic.

When they broke the news to him, he barely even reacted. He just stared at them with a blank expression, mind seemingly far away. All he said was, “Yeah, okay” and then he left. There was no anger, no sadness. There was only indifference.

It took Amy and Knuckles all of their willpower to not explode, to not scream at him for how he just seemed to shrug off his baby brother’s death so easily. They thought that since he’d just gotten rescued after six months of captivity and being subjected to who knows what, maybe his brain just couldn’t handle it at that moment. Maybe it was too much, maybe he just needed some space to process it.

But that didn't seem to be the case either as they found him only a few hours later just being himself. Joking around and helping where he could like nothing had happened. Like the most important person in his world wasn’t gone forever.

And frankly, it pissed the two of them off.

Where was the protective big brother? The guy who’d move mountains for that kid and flipped out whenever he got hurt. Where was Tails’s best friend? Why didn’t he care? Was Infinite to blame? Had he and Eggman somehow managed to wipe all of the love Sonic had for that little fox kit? They were cruel, but was that even possible?

They thought it wasn’t for the longest time, but maybe they were wrong.

It took a month after the war ended for them to confront him about it. It weighed on them too much to the point it was almost unbearable to be in the same room as the hedgehog.

It started, as most of Sonic’s confrontations over the years did, with a punch to the face.

“What the hell!?” The hedgehog cried out when Knuckles struck him, paw going to his cheek as he held the spot that would definitely bruise, “What’s your problem?!”

“I should be asking you that.” Knuckles responded, shaking out his fist. “I didn’t think you of all people would act as dishonorable as this.”

Sonic blinked at them, “Wha- dishonorable?”

“Don’t play dumb with me, hedgehog!” The echidna shouted, “Did the fox’s life mean so little to you that his death is simply pushed aside as though it were nothing?!”

All Sonic did was stare wordlessly.

“Knuckles, please.” Amy said, stepping in front of him so she could say her piece, “But, he’s right. I just- I don’t understand. Why are you…how can you be so carefree about this? He was your little brother, Sonic! Your best friend! You used to lose your mind whenever Eggman hurt him, but now he’s gone and it just doesn’t matter?”

Her fists clenched, “You gave a halfhearted toast, you didn’t share any stories about him, and you don’t even visit his grave! And I should know, I'm there…all the time.”

Amy’s eyes blurred with tears and she choked on the lump in her throat, “I’m still asking for his advice, still talking to him and complaining about inconsequential things. I sit with him for hours because I miss him. I miss him so much. But you…you just somehow act like nothings wrong. Why, Sonic? Why would you do that to him?”

Knuckles put a firm hand on her shoulder and she sent an appreciative smile. The echidna nodded before looking up at the hedgehog in front of them as Amy scrubbed her eyes, “Tails was part of our tribe. He was family to all of us, but especially to you. And yet you run around and act as though his passing is meaningless.” His frown deepened, “The Sonic I know would’ve made sure the doctor met the same fate as soon as he heard the news.”

Sonic continued to stare blankly at them, which only made Knuckles angrier.

“Do you have anything to say? Or are you just gonna stand there and stare?” No response. The echidna scoffed, “Fine. Come on, Amy. This was a waste of time.”

He gently steered her away from Sonic, Amy looking back at him before facing forward and wiping her tears away with several sniffles.

A snort made them stop in their tracks.

Knuckles’s muzzle curled into a snarl as he spun around and Amy just looked over her shoulder in disbelief.

Sonic was laughing, head thrown back and tears pricking his eyes. The fire in Knuckle’s eyes grew as he went to stomp over to him, but Amy stopped him and shook her head. His laughter didn’t sound joyful or mean spirited. It sounded empty.

Eventually, Sonic’s hands went to his hips and he just shook his head, “Wow, haven’t heard that one before! You almost got me there!”

Amy’s brow furrowed, “What are you talking about?”

“I will admit, you’re getting pretty good at this. But I guess practice does make perfect, amiright?” The hedgehog continued.

“Practice makes…” Knuckles mumbled before growling, “Answer Amy’s question! What are you talking about, hedgehog?”

“Oh please, like you don’t know.”

“We don’t, Sonic! Do you think we’re joking? Why on Mobius would we joke about something like this?”

He looked at the two of them with a half lidded stare, clearly annoyed at something. “What? You need me to spell it out? You’re not just gonna take me back?”

“Take you back where?” Amy asked.

Knuckles growled. “Would you just spit it out already!” he yelled, patience growing thin.

“I know this isn’t real.”

The silence that followed was heavy as Amy's shoulders sagged when she realized what he meant and Knuckles grimaced.

Oh.

They just stared at the hedgehog as he continued rambling on about the conclusion he’d drawn and was so sure about, “I will say, this has been going on for some time. I mean, a month! That may be a record breaker. Gotta hand it to ya, Infinite, you really went all out this time!”

“Oh, Sonic…” Amy clutched the hem of her dress, sadness in her voice, “Infinite…Infinites gone.”

Sonic just scoffed, “Yeah, sure. Like I haven’t heard that one before. Y’know, creativity really isn’t your strong suit, man. You can’t just put me in the same scenarios over and over again and expect me to not catch on sooner or later.”

He continued, “Look, the jigs up. Can you just stop it already?” His voice tapered off into something more somber.

Knuckles turned his gaze away while Amy took a step towards Sonic, stopping when he took a step back. His sharp blue quills were raised and he had an uneasy look in his eyes. It was as if he expected her to hurt him.

It made her heart hurt, “Sonic, I…this is real. The war is over. Infinite is gone.”

Sonic tsked, “Sure.”

“It is!”

“No it’s not!” Sonic snapped, “Because that would mean…” He trailed off, panic flashing in his eyes before he blinked hard and anger replaced it, “Would get this over with already. Make her attack me or something! Just do it! I wanna go back to my cell already.”

“Your cell?” Amy breathed out, “What did they do to you?”

“Like you don’t know.” Sonic growled, “Just cut the crap and get this over with!”

She couldn’t help it. Amy barreled into him, wrapping her arms around his neck and holding on as tightly as she could. He fought against her, trying to pry her off and get away from her. Just like he always did. But this time there was more fight in him. She could feel his panicked breaths, the desperation to get away in his movements, but she held on.

She held on until something clicked.

“You’re warm.” Sonic mumbled, barely audible. His squirming came to a stop.

“I am.” Amy replied, just as quietly, “We all are. We’re real, I promise. The war is over. We won. You’re safe.”

Knuckles huffed out a sigh and walked over to the two hedgehogs, hesitating for a brief moment before wrapping his arms around both of them. Doing what he could to be there for his friends, his tribe.

He could’ve sworn he felt the ghost of someone so much smaller than him wrap his arms around them as well.

It’s okay, you did your best

”I know you don’t believe us, and you probably won’t for a long time especially since…” Amy didn’t have the heart to say it out loud. She felt his breathing pick up again, his heart beating frantically. Tears pricked her eyes.

Suddenly, Sonic pushed away from them, a panicked expression on his face. “N-no. No, this isn’t real! You’re fucking with me! Your stupid ruby got an upgrade or something! I don’t fucking know what you did but this isn’t real! Tails isn’t—!”

He choked as reality seemed to crash down around him. Tears slipped down his cheeks and he failed to get a full breath of air, “Tails isn’t…”

“I’m so sorry, Sonic.” Amy simply said. It was all she could say.

What could only be described as pure despair washed over his features. Sonic took several wobbly steps backwards before turning to run away. Far away. As far as he could go. He needed to get out of this cramped hallway, away from these things. They weren’t real, they weren’t his friends. They were nothing but cruel illusions made to torment him. Made to make him suffer. That’s all this was.

He tripped over his own feet, face planting on the hard ground. An almost animalistic sound tore out of his throat as he heard the memory of a squeaky little giggle making fun of his big bro’s clumsiness. Sonic scrambled to get up, but he couldn’t. He slipped over and over again until he just gave up and curled up right there on the floor.

Amy and Knuckles sat besides him, doing their best to be there for the hero as this tidal wave crashed into him and kept him under. The pressure pushed down on him, pulling him further and further under the waves.

It wasn’t real. None of this was real.

It couldn’t be.

[beanarie]

at the point in my bucktommy grieving process where i'm legitimately scared if they do bring tommy back he won't remotely live up to the character taken over by fandom and i won't care about the relationship anymore

[audliminal]

Survivability Bias Pt 7

Masterpost - Ao3

Danny’s on his morning run when he notices the buzzing in his pocket. He stops short, stepping off to the side of the path, so he’s not in anyone’s way. It’s odd, having a phone again. He’s long since buried his old phone in his backpack. It died weeks ago, and he doesn’t really see any point in trying to charge it, when it can’t fulfill it’s primary purpose. The new phone from Robin is clearly far more advanced. It’s weird, having to use a touch screen, and Danny really hasn’t fiddled with it much. He doesn’t really know who’s paying for the service, but he’d rather not test their patience with accidental charges. So he’s only messaged Robin, and only to respond, on the few occasions Robin has had follow-up questions. Now, he pulls the phone out of his pocket, wondering what Robin needs, but instead of a contact name, the text notification lists a number. 

Someone else is trying to call him.

Danny stares at the notification, fear condensing in the fathomless pit of his stomach. He’d known the phone was a risk when Robin had handed it to him. Had understood from the start that it was also a tool to track Danny. But there had been no reasonable way out of it; if Robin was going to make Danny exist, then he had to be able to contact him, for questions, or to let him know when his ID was ready. Sure, Superboy can listen for Danny’s voice, but he can’t exactly message Danny back without coming to meet him, and Robin undoubtedly doesn’t want to have to go through Superboy to talk to him anyways. So he’d accepted the phone, and he’d been careful not to go anywhere weird. 

What Danny hadn’t considered, is the notion that Robin might give the number to others. Or, worse, that others might be able to find it (a trail is a trail is a trail). Now, here’s the clear evidence otherwise. Alarms flare in Danny’s head as he reconsiders, counting all the ways in which this whole thing was a terrible idea. He doesn’t have friends to help him here. He doesn’t even have Vlad to fall back on. Anonymity was quite literally his only protection and he threw that away for, what, the chance that he might be able to go to space camp?

Something touches his arm, and Danny leaps back, weight falling onto his back foot and arms coming up as he glares at the person in front of him. But when he pauses to process, the only person in front of him is an old lady who he’s seen around plenty of times before. Great. This is a public space, and there’s other people here, and he just acted like he was gonna fight an old lady.

“I’m so sorry!” Danny exclaims, snapping his arms down. “I just-” Danny fumbles for a moment, trying to think of an explanation that doesn’t sound like an excuse.

“Oh, there is absolutely nothing to apologize for, dear.” The lady says with a smile, even as she takes a half step back. “I touched you without warning; your response to that is your own. I just wanted to make sure you were okay.”

“Oh...” Danny says. “Okay?” He frowns, trying to remember if he stumbled or something before he stopped. 

“Well, you looked at your phone and I thought you looked upset. So when you didn’t move after a minute, I thought you might have... well, I’ve seen that kind of reaction before, and it tends to not mean anything good.”

“Oh, that’s, um. That’s very nice of you.”

“Nothing of it dear! Now, I don’t want to pry into your business, but if you need an ear, or a hug, or just someone to sit with you for a moment...” She trails off. Danny blinks, and glances back at his phone.

“Um, I think- it’s fine. I probably need to go deal with this, but it’s nothing worth worrying about.” He plasters his best smile on as he says the last bit, and resolutely ignores the way her frown only deepens. “But I really appreciate the offer! I mean, really!” Danny takes one, then two steps back, then turns towards the entrance to the park, and sets off at a jog, calculating in his head.

It’s been about five minutes since his phone buzzed. Nothing’s happened yet, which means whatever situation probably isn’t hostile yet, so Danny presumably has some amount of time. And the first priority has to be keeping this poor town out of it, so the first thing he needs to do is get out of the town.

Luckily, Danny’s had a map of the best transformation spots building in his head since day one, so it’s a simple matter of running to the closest one, shifting, and then taking off under the cover of his invisibility. Once he gets some height, he starts scanning his surroundings for any odd activity, but everything in the town seems normal, so Danny refocuses, looking instead for a safe spot to deal with...whoever is after him now.

Five minutes later, Danny drops down onto an empty, overgrown lot, well away from anyone. The second his feet hit the ground, he looks down at the phone still in his hand. The unknown number is still there, staring him down from the notification screen. Danny takes a deep breath, and he swipes the phone open and begins to read.

Hey! I talked Robin into giving me your number so we could chat more easily! (it’s Superboy in case that isn’t clear)

Danny stares at the message, the dread in his stomach promptly evaporating, until all that’s left is a dense little nugget of embarrassment. Superboy. Who Danny knows and has talked to, and had been very friendly, and absolutely would have asked his friend Robin for Danny’s number. Because they’re at least sort-of-friends and that’s what friends do. They share their phone numbers and then send each other messages. And Danny reacted to a stupid message by panicking and fleeing the entire town like his phone was a bomb that he had to defuse in a desolate-ass field across from a shitty abandoned truck stop along an equally abandoned highway.

At least Superboy’s not here to see Danny look like a loser.

Hey! He quickly writes back. That’s a great idea, I’ll add you to my contacts :D

Danny hits send, then immediately takes off, heading back towards town. Maybe if he’s quick enough, nobody will catch that he left.

It’s kind of funny, in a way. Like, yeah Superboy had been acting friendly towards him from the beginning, but he hadn’t really thought about the other boy as being a potential friend or anything. There’s a part of him that feels guilty about it - that aches with the thought that he could be sending Superboy all the messages he would have sent to Sam and Tucker. He knows they’d call him an idiot if they could hear those thoughts, but the uncomfortable feeling doesn’t seem overly concerned with Danny’s attempts at rational thought.

He wishes they had come with him, even as he knows how unfair it would’ve been to ask. Their bond may be strong as hell (turns out half-dying in front of your friends makes for an unbreakable friendship), but his friends have families that love and care about them. Meanwhile, Danny’s family had always been a catastrophic mess. He’d always tried not to let himself think about it, but here in a different dimension, it’s easy to admit to himself how much it hurt to have his parents not realize he’d died.

They’d never even questioned it, not sought out a single further answer as to how the portal suddenly started working. Danny had spent weeks, falling through furniture and randomly going invisible, had suddenly started being targeted by their shitty home defense systems, and they’d never fucking noticed, because they’d been too excited that their beloved portal was finally working and now they could dig into their obsession all the more.

In retrospect, they should have realized Danny’s parents were ecto-contaminated far sooner. Even Box Ghost wasn’t that much of a freak for boxes.

“It’s fucking dumb,” Danny mutters, dropping down into an alley and transforming. “Fucking dead, and it’s a relief that they didn’t notice, because if my parents noticed anything about me, they’d only make my life fucking worse!” He punctuates the statement by kicking a half-crushed can as hard as he can, sending it flying directly at the wall. The clang echoes in the tight little alleyway, and again as it clatters to a stop a few feet away. He stands there, staring at the can for a moment, thinking about just letting himself cry. He imagines what would happen if he just collapsed onto the ground and started sobbing and never got up. It’s not like he has any responsibilities to get to, after all. Or, if he wanted, he could march back to the park and tell that nice lady that he’s not fine, and demand that hug she’d offered him. He’d feel dumb as hell, and it wouldn’t actually change anything, but he could.

He stoops down to pick up the can. Sam would want him to go recycle it. Superboy responds to his text with a goofy midair selfie.

* * *

Danny does not want to be doing math right now, so when his phone buzzes, he jumps at the opportunity to do literally anything else. Danny’s determined to do well in school this time around, and he’s willing to work for it, but trying to review and relearn everything  he should have over the last couple years sucks. Luckily he’s found some useful resources that he can refer back to when he inevitably discovers something else he should have learned, but preparedness is definitely better than playing catch-up. He’s only going to have two years worth of  high school grades, so each class is worth a lot more. Thinking about that, Danny kind of gets why Robin had offered to falsify his grades. He could only imagine how Jazz would’ve felt if her perfect GPA had been erased in Junior year.

But to Danny, the clean slate is already a boon. He’d quite literally scraped his way out of summer school by half of a percent this last year, and even though Junior Year had barely been underway when he’d fled, his grades had already been beyond recovery. And with no ghost attacks to contend with, Danny’s determined to prove he can get to college of his own accord.

Guess what! :D The message from Superboy says, when he opens it. It’s accompanied by a selfie, though it’s not taken in any of the rooms Danny’s seen in the many photos Superboy’s sent him.

Titan Tower’s been demolished and you’re all staying in Robin’s place for a week? Danny sends back immediately. He hopes that’s not actually the case, but Superboy’s always delighted whenever Danny sends him a snarky response, so he swallows the needle of anxiety. They’ve been texting for less than a week, but in that time, Superboy’s sent Danny dozens and dozens of messages. Solidly half of them are just random selfies, and the number that appear to be from inside their hero base has got to be some kind of a security problem, but Danny’s not about to challenge Superboy on it. It’s too reassuring, seeing the headquarters the teen heroes work from. Every selfie reveals more of the comfortable, spacious, and well-equipped base, and with every reveal, Danny feels a little more certain that they really aren’t being exploited.

Nope, comes the response. Then, a moment later, I’m at your new home! This is accompanied by another selfie, this one with an absolutely gorgeous framed print of the pillars of creation in the background. Danny straightens in his seat, as he stares at the message. He’d given Robin carte blanche when it came to furnishing his apartment. At the time  of their conversation, he’d been overwhelmed and didn’t want to think about anything like furniture, but now that he’s had time to think he’s been feeling a little regret about it. Danny’s used to living with stuff that other people have picked out, and the idea of having control over his furniture actually does seem like it could be cool. Still, he hadn’t felt strongly enough to say anything, afraid to risk disrupting whatever work Robin had already done. Besides, he’d assumed Robin would just give him the are minimum, and he could add stuff later, when he finally had the money.

Danny’s caught between desperate gratitude and guilt. The print in the photo is beautiful, and exactly the kind of thing Danny might have chosen, but he also knows how much quality prints like that cost. He hadn’t thought about it before, but furniture has got to be expensive too, even if it’s just the bare minimum. 

You still there, dude? Another text comes in and Danny moves to reply with shaking hands.

How much money are you guys spending on me?

The response isn’t immediate. Danny tries not to panic, but he can tell he’s going to fail. Instead, he shoves his stuff into his backpack as quickly as he can, holding his breath, because he absolutely can’t be trusted to stay quiet right now. He’s walking out the door to the library, when his phone finally buzzes again.

Okay so I sort of had to ask Robin why you would be worried about that, so like, sorry for the delay. There’s like a lot of gaps in my social knowledge? And I’ve never really had any control over what ppl do or don’t give me, so like. I didn’t realize that would upset you and I’m sorry? But also Robin literally said “not much, only a couple thousand” which is to say that I’m pretty sure he’s actually super rich and furnishing a home is literally peanuts to him.

Danny reads it, and then he reads it again, forcing himself to take deep breaths as he moves out of the doorway. Once he’s well away from anyone’s walking path, he lets himself collapse against the wall, sliding down until he’s curled up against the corner of the ground and wall.

It’s fine.

It’s gotta be fine. There is literally nothing in either of their behavior that has seemed even remotely cruel, and if Danny’s reading between the lines right, then Robin does this sort of thing to other people too, so it’s not even remotely about Danny. He doesn’t feel good about it, but logically it isn’t the level of problem that Danny is worried about. Danny can deal with the gross feelings. He can’t afford to do anything else, really.

After all, how the hell was gonna buy a bed? He has less than a hundred dollars to his name. Maybe he could afford it if he sold off the jewelry, but he absolutely couldn’t furnish a whole apartment. Besides, he literally asked for this. If he’s too stupid to realize the implications of asking for his apartment to be furnished, then that’s fully on him.

His phone buzzes in his pocket. He pulls it out, half on instinct, but really, what is ignoring Superboy going to accomplish?

Are you good? Do I need to find you? I haven’t gotten the hang of tracking heartbeats like Superman, but I can try? I like being your friend, please don’t let me fuck this up

Danny starts typing out a response. Deletes it. Tries again. He tries to lie and say he feels fine, but it just reminds him of the old lady’s expression the other day, and how she’d seemed more upset when he tried to brush his problems off. He takes another deep breath and tries to remember Jazz. They’d mostly avoided talking about Vlad. The whole thing was just so shitty and neither of them had the power to actually do anything, so they’d mostly pretended he didn’t exist, and Danny had done his best to play off the worst of his behavior. There had been one time, though. When Jazz had come home, upset about some conflict with a friend, and she had turned on him about it, lecturing him about boundaries and how important it is to tell people if you feel uncomfortable. She hadn’t explicitly said Vlad’s name but, well, who else could she have been talking about? So Danny forcibly gulps air down, and he tries to explain.

I’m not mad at you? Danny writes. I just - have a history with, like, gifts, and the idea of anyone spending much money on me makes me feel gross. Like in a ‘how is this gonna be held over me’ sort of way, y’know? He has to back up and rephrase a couple times, but eventually he feels like his response makes sense, so he hits send.

Crisis somewhat quelled, Danny gulps down another breath, and pushes himself back to his feet. There’s a mom nearby staring at him, though her kid seems focused on the book in their hands, so he mutters sorry, and starts heading down the street. 

Oh. Yeah, I think I get that. Superboy’s response is quicker this time. Can I, like, tell that to Robin? He might have an idea of how to make it not-a-gift?

Sure, Danny responds. I think I’m gonna go for a run, so if I don’t respond, don’t stress out.

* * *

When Danny finishes his run, he’s got a picture from Superboy of an absolutely adorable dog, and one single message from Robin that reads Don’t worry. Meet us at Emery Park at 5. We can discuss the logistics of it then. Robin’s absolutely tragic reassurance doesn’t really make him feel better, but it is sort of amusingly Robin-like, so at least there’s that. Danny has no intentions of trying to study now though, so instead he just wanders the park for a while, before slipping off to transform. When he comes back in his ghost form, he feels incredibly conspicuous and pretty much everyone seems to notice him. Mostly they just smile and nod in his direction, but one person actually comes up to him.

“Hey, uh. My sister was one of the people you saved last month, so like, thank you. She means a lot to me, and I don’t know what I would have done if she’d-” They cut themselves off with a choked noise, and they absolutely look like they’re about to start crying. Danny gets it; he knows full well what happened in the world where something happened to his sister, but he also has no idea how to reassure them.

“I’m very glad I was able to help,” Danny tries. “Um, how is your sister?” Good, that’s how to be empathetic, right?

“Ah, well you know. The smoke inhalation had her laid up for a bit, but honestly I think she was more upset about losing her home, you know? But she’s staying with me for now, so we’ll figure things out.”

“That’s good,” Danny nods. They’re not wrong; losing your home sucks. But this random person absolutely does not need to be subjected to Danny’s long list of misfortune. Luckily they take their leave after that, though whether it’s a result of Danny’s expression or their own emotions, he’s not sure.

Nobody else approaches him in the time it takes for Superboy to flip over his shoulder.

“Hey!” Superboy says, grinning as he lands in front of Danny. “Whatchu been up to?”

“Not much,” Danny says. “It’s really not been a productive day.”

“Shit, sorry.” Superboy winces.

“Nah, even before that, I was trying to review math, so like. Focus has been majorly my enemy, you know?”

“Ready to start school, then?” Robin asks from where he’s walked up to stand by Danny.

“Eh, probably not ever gonna be, so it might as well happen.”

“Right, well everything is ready, so if you’d like to adjourn to the apartment to discuss specifics?” Danny nods, and follows as they head off again.

Instead of walking, Robin pulls out a literal zip-line, and they quite literally take to the rooftops, all the way to a nice-looking brick building, not far from the center of town. Danny would wager that it’s within a ten minute walk of the library and the nearest grocery store, which is pretty sweet. Danny can even see little balconies along the front, as they approach which is pretty cool. so he might even get a view. Instead of heading to the front of the building, Robin drops down to street level, and Danny finds himself in a little parking garage when he follows.

“We’re less likely to get spotted this way,” Robin explains as he walks through the parking lot. “I’ll erase the security footage of us, but the less people know we came here, the safer your identity is.”

“Makes sense,” Danny says. “I can, um, make you guys invisible, but I’d have to be touching you to do it.”

“By all means.” Robin says, staring Danny down.

“Cool, um,” Danny glances over at Superboy, who nods, so he reaches out to grip their wrists carefully, and lets his invisibility wash over all three of them. He lets Robin lead them through the door, and up three flights of stairs. He stops in front of a door labelled 305, and a moment later, the door is open and the three of them are stepping inside. Danny drops his grip on them as the door closes, taking in the room around him.

Danny’s half-formulated fear of some fancy, swagged-out apartment that constantly reminds him of Robin’s generosity seems ridiculous in the face of the cozy, simply appointed living space in front of him. Instead of a table, there’s a small bar area built into the kitchen with a couple of comfortable-looking stools, and the couch in the living room looks comfortably worn, so Robin must have gotten it secondhand. The decorations aren’t extravagant either. The framed print Danny had seen earlier sits proudly on the wall behind the couch, but aside from that there’s only a couple minor decorations, and a lamp.

He turns to look back at Robin, who immediately steps forward and holds up a key ring.

“This key gets you into the building, this one is to your apartment, and this one is to your mailbox. There’s also a bike room in the parking garage we walked through. That’s what this last key is for, though I would advise still using a bike lock if you decide to get one.” He holds it out, after he finishes, and Danny nods, trying to commit each key to memory. After a moment, Robin continues.

“Your lease is in the folder on the counter, along with your personal documentation and a couple other things. As far as the funding of this is concerned, I took the slight liberty of forward-funding this with your theoretical payout for the assistance you provided during the train crash last month. So, if and when you decide to legally declare your hero identity, I’ll back-file the paperwork for that.”

“Oh,” Danny says. He looks around the room again, and then back at Robin. The internet had been entirely unclear if Robin had any powers, but Danny’s decided he’s got to be psychic. There’s no other way he could have planned this all out so perfectly. “Okay, that’s, um. That definitely works for me. Thank you so much.”

“You’ve gotta see your bedroom, though!” Superboy explains, grabbing Danny’s hand and pulling him down the hallway, and through the last door.

The bedroom that greets him is similarly balanced as the living area. The comforter alone makes Danny pause. As long as he can remember, he’d always secretly wanted a space-themed comforter, but he’d only ever seen the goofy ones made for little kids, but this comforter is decorated with an absolutely gorgeous cover; the star-spattered blue-black of outer space giving way at the bottom edge to a view of the earth itself, atmosphere pale against the onslaught of space. It’s gorgeous, and doesn’t make Danny feel childish at all. The wall behind the headboard is similarly impressive, with what has to be a composite print of high quality images of every major body in the galaxy, from the sun itself to the dwarf planet Pluto (Danny hadn’t been certain how to feel about that particular difference in classification when he’d first arrived, but he’s come around to it by now).

“Do you like it?” Superboy asks.

“It’s amazing,” Danny says. Stepping forward and falling onto his new bed. “I actually can’t believe this is all mine.”

“Your name’s the one on the lease,” Robin says. “Although please do let me know if you have a hard time making payments. I’m more than happy to assist, and if you need to make it a loan to feel comfortable, we work that out.”

“Yeah, okay.” Danny says, looking around the space again. He feels a lot less anxious just being in this space. Vlad would never have done anything like this. If he’d ever been inclined to get Danny an apartment, there would have been reminders of him everywhere. It’s not even like the kind of unwanted stuff Sam would throw at him and Tucker. This whole apartment really feels like it’s meant to be his.

“There’s also the beginnings of a wardrobe in the closet. Not much since I wasn’t certain of style preferences, but a few basics and a couple nice shirts for any job interviews and the like.”

“Oh,” Danny says. He really should think of better responses to what Robin says, but he keeps saying things Danny hadn’t even considered.

“Similarly, there’s some food essentials in the kitchen. We can always take anything you dislike to a food bank.” Robin continues, unhindered. “And the secondary bedroom is currently set up to be an office. Since you’re doing the school from home option, I decided it was worthwhile to set up a separate space for you to do that from. Separating work and relaxation spaces can go a long way to not going insane.”

“Oh.” Danny feels like a broken record.

“Furthermore, to head off any concerns, the laptop is one of my old ones that was sitting unused in storage. The planner, however, is new, and it is a gift.” Robin says, his mouth turning up into a slight smile. Keeping track of what you have to do is the most difficult part of online school, and the planner should help with that. Just don’t get caught up in trying to use it the right way. Whatever works best for you is the correct way.”

“Damn dude,” Superboy says, staring at his friend. “How are you gonna go and make school sound like it’s kinda fun?”

“If you’re interested, I could get you signed up as well.” Robin’s response comes immediately. 

“We should order pizza,” Danny says, flopping onto the couch. “Gotta hang out now before I get too busy with school.”

[short666bread]

Ron is looking for them

[bravetemptation]

STANDING ON THE EDGE OF FALLING

“There’s a bit of a situation in one of the tenting areas, and you two are the perfect people to handle it.”

“Get on with it, then.”

“Some fucker’s brought a whole TV in and is streaming the England/Slovakia game. A whole crowd’s gathered, over a hundred people, at least, and it’s blocking walkways between the tents. I need you two to go shut it down.”

________

It’s Harry’s first security gig, and somehow, he landed Glastonbury. Unfortunately, he’s been tasked with telling a very gorgeous man that he can’t stream the football match. Things go … much better than expected.

Out now on AO3 😊

[f-misc]

thank you @the-retaliater for putting this in my head and altering my brain chemistry (x)

they'd be so fucking linked...my god

and sam would keep all that moral character of his choice not to take the serum...while still getting that strength and durability that would kinda help a guy out.

but MY GOD I would be insufferable if sam literally had bucky flowing through his veins. (?!?!!?)

there'd be the moment of it happening itself...(and they'd save sam but I would be dead)...and then every single moment afterward. because that's a permanent fucking connection...it'd exist everywhere, in everything...all the time.

and imagine sam learning his strength, training with bucky 🙃 (and tbf with isaiah still too!)

[cosmicalbot]

THE GOLD AND THE RUST [ NEW DIRECTIVE]

Sometimes V1 forgot that Gabriel was flesh and blood. He was far above anything V1 had encountered that it didn’t quite remember that he was fragile beneath his armor. He was so warm, so soft, so unlike anything else in Hell. V1 wanted to dig its hands into his flesh to find out where all that warmth came from.

CHAPTER I - CURRENT LOCATION: HERESY

V1 and Gabriel spar once more, and V1 lowkey fucks up.

https://archiveofourown.org/works/63991075/chapters/164147386

[atotalpitch]

Anna Kendrick talking (briefly) about Beca's relationship with the Bellas was NOT on my 2024 bingo card. in fact, i'm actually physically shaking. what the hell.

[silverwhittlingknife]

OKAY SO i have been rereading dustorange's wonderful post here about Dick in an UtRH-esque scenario where he dies & then comes back to life

AND I HAVE INCOHERENT BRAINSTORMING THOUGHTS:

so first, i think Robin!Dick would be just as hurt by the discovery that Bruce has a new Robin, and brood about it - but i think the shame of having died would stop him from confronting Bruce about it the way Nightwing!Dick does in canon.

and I do NOT think that he would expect Bruce to kill anyone for him (or even be upset that he doesn't? I just don't think this would be a consideration for Dick. he's gonna be fixated on "I failed." so he'll be upset about being replaced but not about the lack of revenge. and if Bruce did take revenge, i think he'd actually feel angry and betrayed about that because it'd feel like the choice was taken away from him, a la how upset he gets when he thinks Bruce has arranged to have Zucco killed - even if he intellectually knows that Bruce wasn't deliberately undermining himbecause he didn't know Dick was gonna come back to life.)

anyway so what WOULD he do??

what comes to mind is something along the lines of "Dick obsessively keeps an eye on Batman & Robin even while telling himself that he's not"

and then - say - if it's Robin!Tim (i feel like this has to be Tim because in the world where Dick dies there is no way that Bruce is voluntarily picking a new Robin), then maybe the moment when Dick steps in is when Bruce is in danger & he's furious / critical of Tim for not protecting Bruce well enough

and i feel like that's how he'd channel the hurt feelings - it'd all be deflected under shame and obligation, and then translated into the anger of "you replaced me & yet you're failing to do the job that you're supposed to do" (which is actually about projection/self-hatred because Dick would actually be mad at himself for having died & not doing that job anymore)

and Dick wouldn't want to see Bruce at all because of the shame over dying & subconscious fear that Bruce doesn't want him back, plus every little thing that Tim does differently would drive him NUTS because it implies that maybe the way Dick did things wasn't good enough for Bruce

i'm actually kind of fascinated by this now. because i am me and i have (1) obsession i am mostly invested in the dick & tim side of it sdfsdfds

so i'm picturing Tim very stung by whatever critical things Dick said to him & tracking this mysterious vigilante down, and then Dick doesn't want to spend ANY time with him BUT he's also subconsciously desperate for news of Bruce!!! so then something something Dick starts sorta training him a la Tim's various contacts with edgy non-batman-aligned vigilantes, and Tim's very defensive about how he IS a good robin so THERE but of course he's also defensive because he's secretly worried he's not good enough.

normally i would have tim Recognize dick since recognizing dick is tim's most basic skill HOWEVER i think it would be much more fun if tim doesn't recognize him so he can give dick a speech about legacy & the first robin: "i do x and such because that's how the first robin did it so it is Objectively Correct." which Dick will find incredibly infuriating but will be unable to counter since he cannot counter with 'the 1st robin was ME'

…hmmm i do think Dick ought to be angry about SOMETHING about batman's methods/attitude just because that's more dynamic? I feel like in order to make the adaptation work, there ought to be SOME kind of argument with Bruce right before he dies that he can still be mad about, a la the garzonas fight for Jason and Bruce. unsure what though?

okay let's see: I feel like Dick's main arguments with Bruce aren't about vigilante issues per se so much as they're about working in a team - so e.g.

1) Bruce being controlling/demanding, and 2) Bruce being secretive and doing stuff behind Dick's back, and 3) Bruce not allowing Dick enough autonomy, 4) just generally a perceived lack of trust.

SO maybe whatever The Frustrating Thing that bruce was doing when dick died is a thing he's STILL doing with this new robin, and dick is getting frustrated all over again sorta on tim's behalf but mostly on his own behalf because he never got to resolve this with bruce

but anyway that way when Bruce finally spots disguised!Dick, then they can have the fight again before Bruce realizes who he is <3

[lamiue]

never felt like this before (are we friends or are we more?)

Buck swallowed, taking a step forward. “So what are you saying?”

“I’m saying I want to stop dancing around it,” Eddie said, voice steady. “I want you. All of you. Not just as my best friend. I want to be the person who gets to come home to you– Wait, no that’s not it. I already come home to you.”

Buck smiled, a little crooked and a lot tender. “Eddie,” He slinged an arm around Eddie’s waist and pulled him closer. “Don't you realize? You already come home to me.”

or

Buck wants. He wants someone to chase after him, his movie scene in the pouring rain, sunflowers because they're his favorite, someone to show up at his house unannounced, hands held, love letters, songs sung together, to watch sunset at the beach, stargazing, to be missed when they've spent too long apart, nights in together, nights out together, planned futures, playful fights over whose eye color their baby would have, pictures of them laughing, the last slice of toast because it’s his favorite, the right side of the bed, “I love you”s traced on his back, someone who can’t take their eyes off him in a crowd, he wants to be made to feel special—he just wants someone to love him. And at the end of the day, he gets what he wants.

[sentrysoldier]

Memory loss fics!!

I see your "Character A not remembering their favorite flower and Character B reminding them it's roses, with a rose because they remember"

but I raise you

"Character A not remembering their favorite flower, and Character B telling them they must smell many flowers and decide all over again so they can remember the experience of having a favorite"

[saras-almanac]

currently untitled Sarah ends up moving in to Vic's and actually growing a relationship with Vic and Robert... might change things later...

Okay so I’ve been having some thoughts about Sarah having more of a relationship with Robert and Vic because she is a Sugden and I think it would be really cool if the show remembered that and let her explore that side of her family—as well as potentially become a catalyst for rebuilding the Sugden Family since they have all disappeared as the Dingle Plague swept through the village. (I kid but there are just way too many Dingles and not enough other families and I’m gonna need that to change). Anyways, I had some stuff planned for Robert helping Sarah and becoming closer to her as she goes through her cancer and IVF stuff and was struggling to figure out when and was going to change the timing and then today’s episode (26 June 2025) happened and I was hit with inspiration--but incredibly limited time. So I wrote this little thing out quick and want to go back and work on planning out this fic and actually seeing what happens with it. (That and all the other fics I keep talking about... please feel free to come and talk to me about them because I've been really struggling with writing and creativity this year and might need some pushes)

Victoria was anxiously wringing her hands as she walked with Robert through the hospital. He’d just gotten back from another day up at the farm when Vic’s phone rang. Sarah had called her from the hospital crying and basically begged Vic to come and get her. It seemed like they weren’t that close since Vic had seemed unsure what to do until Robert said that they should go to the hospital. If Sarah’s upset, especially upset enough to call Vic and not a Dingle, then they were going to be there for her.

Robert was along for moral support—for both Vic and Sarah, whichever one needed him most. It felt nice, almost normal, to be someone who could be there and support the people he cared about. Or at the very least, he could pretend for a little while.

“What are you doing here?” Cain’s voice was hard as they walked up to Sarah’s room.

“Sarah called. Asked me to come and visit,” Victoria said, leaving out that she begged Vic to take her home, let her stay. That was a fight for later, when they knew if Sarah was even getting out today.

“Why would she call you?” Cain asked, looking at Robert.

“Well she is family,” Victoria said. “Besides, she just had a major surgery. If she wants us to visit, we’re coming.”

“She’s not letting anyone in,” Charity said. “So best you turn around and head back home.”

“I think we can go in and see what Sarah wants,” Robert said quietly. “And then we can all go from there.”

He turned to go and knock on the door, peeking his head in seeing Sarah laying in bed. “Sarah, me and Vic are here if you’re up for a visit?”

“Uncle Robert! Auntie Vic!” Sarah said, her eyes filling with tears. “You came. You came to get me?”

Robert opened the door, feeling Victoria being pushed into the room with Charity and Cain hot on her heels.

“What’re you talking about?” Charity asked. “Come and get you? What do you mean?”

“Right,” Victoria said. “So Sarah did call and ask us to visit, but she also asked if she could stay with us for a little while.”

“You want?!” Charity asked, but it was unclear if she was directing that toward Sarah or Victoria. “She just had major surgery. She needs to be resting and recovering with family! With people who care about her!”

“And that’s you, is it? The people who never supported my decision? You think I can recover and just get back to normal after this?” Sarah asked. “I can’t. I can’t be around you both right now. I just need to be somewhere else.”

“Besides, like Vic said, we’re her family too,” Robert said.

“Not like you were ever there for her before,” Cain said.

“Well, I’ve been a bit preoccupied being in prison,” Robert said.

“And before that?”

“Would you lot or Debbie have really wanted me to be around?” Robert asked. “But that’s not the point. The point is right now, Sarah is asking for this and I’m going to support her and be there for her.”

“You don’t even know what’s going on,” Charity said.

“I know she’s our niece,” Victoria said. “And that she wants to stay with me. That’s all I need to know. Well, that and any medical stuff that I need to help with.”

“I’m going with Auntie Vic,” Sarah said. “And I’m gonna stay there with them for a while.”

[spotaus]

New Age AU (A Diplomatic Visit Pt. 2)

And here is the second one! I'm making this post early so I have no clue if y'all liked part 1, but I'm here to throw this one at you anyhow! Just like last time, this is a bit of a long one, and got a few extra scenes thrown in I didn't think of until I was already writing them, so I hope y'all find it fun!

(@ancha-aus, @papiliovolens, @mutzelputz hello again!)

Reaper could admit, the view of Orchard’s capital city was a sight that could fill one with equal parts awe and dread. 

The terrain of Orchard itself was unique. A large kingdom, its sprawling land held all sort of different temperate biomes, each few cities the landscape and its flora and fauna changing wildly. Though, one main feature which he had noticed was how… flat it was. Sanctuary, and his homeland before, had never been very flat nor open. Mountains and hills, rolling valleys which threatened to swallow you for weeks, that was what he was used to. Here, there was no such thing. Beyond the swaths of meager forest, overrun rivers, and meager foliage regrowth, he could practically see to the horizon in every direction. 

That was why, he thought, the capital city seemed so impossibly placed. Cidre, as it had long been called, was different from most cities and townships, if only because it trailed up the edges and top of the only jutting landmark in the entirety of the kingdom. An imposing plateau with smaller hills leading away from it. And atop that plateau perched most of the capital city, as well as the castle itself. 

Reaper had been able to see the entire thing over the thick forests surrounding it from miles out, but it was only as they grew closer and closer that he could truly feel that sense of unease at its appearance. 

An unhealthy growth. From a distance, that was what it appeared to be. There was grandeur to be said about it, large and detailed, but its shape was not sturdy nor traditional in the way one might imagine of a thousands of years old castle may be. Instead, it seemed to twist and curve, walls and edges that jutted up at odd angles and curved in ways that would make any architect’s skin crawl with distaste. Reaper could not call the thing a monolith, nor could he call it an eyesore. It just… felt wrong to look at against the empty, cloudless sky. 

This unease did not seem to improve, even as they rolled through the castle gates and it loomed high above him. Though, now he could see the twisting, awkward shape was due to the stone itself. The brickwork looked less like brickwork, and more like a gorgon had been allowed to look a dying tree in the eyes. It was strange. 

Now, though, he did not have any more time to wonder about the twisted construction of such a strange royal abode. The carriage was rolling to a stop, and his companion was boredly watching out of the window once more. The only thing separating his scathing gaze from the stray soldiers walking alongside their ride was the dark curtain hanging between them. 

“Are you prepared, my High Mage?” Reaper questioned across the cabin. 

Geno twisted to shoot a glance at him, before nodding. 

“Yeah. Ready to get this show on the road.” He muttered. 

If his forward hunch and tapping leg hadn’t been sign enough that he was growing impatient, the knock on the door had him jolting to stand in the confined space. Today he was not yet using his cane, instead jolting to reach the exit almost eagerly. So fast, in fact, that several of the extra cushions which Reaper had insisted he use fell strewn to the floor in his wake. 

It was a swift movement, scooping up the stray items onto his own bench just barely before the door was pushed outward by Geno and the light flooded inside the cabin. Geno practically marched out, once again clearly startling Nimbus who hurried to help and announce him. Peering through the curtain, still shadowed from the invading daylight, Reaper could see that they had a proper greeting prepared. Lines of what seemed to be Nightmare’s royal guard lined either side of the large stairs and entryway to the main doors of the castle. Awaiting his arrival, he assumed. 

There would never be a day in which the attention he commanded didn’t surprise him. He had earned such reverie of course, his kingdom successful, his people happy, and his reign long. Every country knew his name. There may have never been a day in his early life he would’ve imagined such forces gathered to honor him, though. 

A sign escaped him, before he stood. 

Strode to the door.

Stepped out of the carriage, and into the open air yet again.

This was the big entrance. Even if it seemed his titular correspondent would not be meeting them outside, it was still his perfect opportunity to follow his favorite script. The little act which always commanded attention in any place he deemed worthy of his visits. 

Not unlike at the Inn, as he trailed ‘down’ to hover over the floor, that dark, clouded mist formed behind him once again. Though, this time he exuded just a hint, a touch of magic which would weigh on those around him. A miniscule drain which made every soldier sink inwards a bit, suddenly reminded of their own mortality as it drained. Then snapped back into place. The smoke billowed back, then as he came to a stop, it wrapped around his front, shadowing his face and enveloping him for just a moment. Leaking onto the ground, seeping around his companions who stood awaiting him just to his right. 

It then shot back, opening into wide wings. Wide, pure black, wings. 

They settled easily against his back as he stood there. Allowing for a brief moment of his looming presence to be followed by Nimbus’ voice breaking confidently through the silence. Announcing the arrival of King Reaper of Sanctuary. 

The soldiers lined up, those who were not his own and had been merely watching at attention, seemed to react all at once to a signal presented by a human man closer to the doors. They each bowed in respect, moving like a gentle wave until they reached the man who had signaled at first. He, too, bowed. 

“It is an honor to welcome you to the castle, King Reaper.” That was the Trainee. Reaper only tilted his head a bit to look at him. “Our Lion Knight will guide you to where our King awaits.”

The Trainee didn’t bow, only stepped back and away, as the Lion Knight took his place before Reaper. They didn’t exchange any words, only awaiting a simple nod from Reaper before beginning to make his way forward. 

None of the guards raised from their bows, aside from two who hastily moved to open the grand wooden doors which let out into the main halls of the castle. Beyond, Reaper was treated to the sights locked away within this grand and twisted building. 

In the main hall, many doors led away from the space. Straight ahead, where they were walking, was an open hall, on either side of it grand staircases which spiraled up and curved out of sight. Hanging above the hall, and on various other surfaces, were large banners. Each was made of a dark green, almost black, cloth. Each embroidered with the same large, unfamiliar crest. The shield, containing the swirling tree, the sword, the two birds. Reaper had only seen that seal in moments of frustration, when the previous “God-King” would send him unwanted correspondence, desperate for his attention. Always in an obnoxious white-gold wax seal on her lavishly decorated ‘care packages’. He had not, if fact, seen this seal on his meeting correspondence from Nightmare, only on the official documentation granting them permission to enter Orchard. He had to admit, seeing it in such dark colors was jarring, but not unwelcome. Cleansing, even, for his own peace of mind. 

They passed beneath it. The Lion Knight before them, and Reaper, Geno, and Nimbus in single-file just behind him. Being within the castle must’ve meant that they deemed it safe enough to only have one guard stand vigil alongside them. 

As they moved, Reaper kept his skull angle forward, his chin tilted ever so slightly upwards. His gaze, however, wandered worse than a man with memory problems. There was plenty of space, many locations that they passed, but the most striking thing about the interior of this strange place (not to mention the stonework) was the liveliness. 

Following an attack of such magnitude to which their King has reclused himself and a potential Knight stripped of his title, perhaps an existing one dead, Reaper wondered just how these people working within were so jovial. Guards, before they noticed the presence of the Lion Knight and his guests, would be smiling and chatting in the distance, only stopping to bow or salute when they grew near. Servants, both rushing in the halls and resting in the few open servants corridors they were able to pass, seemed contented as they moved, and each stopped to give a bow or curtsey to the Knight. It was curious. 

Not that he believed they should be miserable, but the castle inside felt like something out of an old cult temple still, dark decor, uniforms to match, even sconces which cast dancing shadows across the walls in halls with no windows to the outside. It was just that, as much as the energy within was adding up with all of the cruel, evil, dangerous stories he’d been hearing over the years? The people just… didn’t seem as though they lived and worked every day of their lives within a mile radius of this guy at all times. 

Then again, the letters he’d received hadn’t seemed like the work of a cruel, evil, dangerous King either. 

Through each twist and turn, Reaper saw glimpses of much of the same, until they finally arrived at a large arching door with a royal guard stationed on either side. Perhaps there was a quicker route, or perhaps the royals here did not enjoy making things easier for visitors to their home. Either way, it appeared as a familiar sight. A throne room, long and large, with a tall ceiling that seemed to be a stone-carved canopy, columns along the way not unlike the trunks of trees. A long floor-rug spanned the entire length, and at the very end sat a large, twisting throne. Made of stone, and reaching towards the sky as though seeking sunlight it could not find. 

Reaper idly wondered if Life would appreciate the attempt at replica nature, or if she would find it as unsettling as he did now. 

The Lion Knight led them inside in the same relative silence as before, the door closing behind them as they had fully crossed the threshold. 

That was when Reaper spotted the small group of people at the far end of the room, nearby to the throne. At first, it was three figures, though as they grew closer, one wearing predominantly tan, a color Reaper had not seen much of just yet, bowed to the other two and disappeared through a door nearby to the throne. 

When they finally came to a stop, Reaper wondered if they were being handed off to yet another party to escort them somewhere new. The people stood before him, when they came to a halt and were able to see properly when the Lion Knight stepped to the side, were… small. 

Not to say anything rude, of course, it was simply his best description  he could possibly think of when peering down at these new monsters. 

The one, to the left, was a shorter monster, sporting all black clothing and a cloak’s hood pulled overtop their head. Reaper may have mistaken them for a child, for a brief moment, if it weren’t that he spotted the crescent moon engraved into the golden chain buckle holding their cloak in place near to their shoulders, as well as the mask which obscured their entire face from view. A black panther. The white eyelights staring at him from inside the eyeholes suddenly sparked his memory. Of course. This was the Panther Knight, the one who had once been a proper, high-profile criminal. Reaper hadn’t ever put much thought into it, but he was unusually small in comparison to most skeleton monsters. Even in this kingdom… 

Next to the Panther Knight, now being flanked as the Lion Knight rounded to his other side, was a skeleton just barely taller than the one beside him. Draped in a heavy cloak which matched the dark green and light teal colors of everything else in the castle, printed and sewn with patterns of swirling vines and filigree, and clothes beneath looking like they would last them through a winter storm. A gold chain, not unlike the Panther Knight’s, held the cloak in place and shined with that same crescent moon which claimed this King’s most prized members of his kingdom. They leaned using a cane, one that's end curved into the shape of a perched bird. And most perplexing, was the mask sat atop their skull. 

A white cat mask. Pristine, feline, and obviously carved by the same hand which had created the two big cats beside them. It was just… Reaper had never heard any news of another mask-holder within Orchard. Nightmare, his three knights, and rumors of a Snow Leopard mask being worn and presented to the trainee, though he had not been wearing such a thing earlier. Reaper wasn’t sure at all who might be hidden beneath this white cat mask, nor why they would be here to greet him before their king’s throne. 

“Reaper. It is a relief to see that my Knights were able to escort you and your party through Orchard without delay.” The words came from that small figure, the White Cat, who Reaper was still puzzling over. They held out their hand, it covered by a black glove not unlike Reaper’s own. 

He buffered for a moment. 

My Knights? 

Thank the stars his body didn’t take as long as his mind to process the implications of those words. He gingerly accepted the outstretched hand and shook it firmly. The hand held in his felt frail and small. The bones seemed to sit awkwardly against Reaper’s palm. It was… odd. 

“I am King Nightmare, of Orchard. It’s so nice to finally meet you in person.” The voice projected from behind the mask, no doubt magically enhanced. Though, by all accounts, it… sounded boyish. Young. 

Beyond the mask, Reaper could see one eyelight. White, at first glance, and soft purple. It stared up at him where he floated. 

What. The fuck. 

“Yes, your escort was of great help to us as we arrived here, they have my gratitude.” Reaper’s voice spoke, almost running on autopilot as he buffered a bit inside, still trying to rationalize this. Was it a trick? A prank? Had the King had a son somehow? “And as you know, I am King Reaper, ruler of Sanctuary. Your correspondence has been so very promising, it was the least I could do to visit in person.” 

Nightmare, or this monster who claimed to be Nightmare, nodded his head and gently extracted his hand from Reaper’s. As he stepped back, he almost instantly began speaking again. 

“I am eager to begin discussing specifics with you, especially regarding your dire search, but I imagine that first I should give you a tour, and introduce to you my Knight who will be accompanying you during your stay.” He took another step back, twisting so he could look to the Knight to his right, the Panther Knight who had yet to stop staring intensely at Reaper. “I feel that doing business in an unfamiliar place makes tensions rise.” He added on briefly. 

Reaper hummed in agreement, gesturing for this monster to continue. Honestly, he was just… baffled. 

“This is my Panther Knight. He will act as your shadow while you stay here. Ask him for anything you may need, and so long as it is reasonable, it will be done.” He explained briefly, and the Panther Knight bowed his head ever so slightly. “While I do not think there will be any threat to you or your men while you stay here, it is simply best practice that we can give you that assurance.” 

Reaper nodded and blinked down at the new Knight who would be watching over them. This still felt so surreal. 

“Thank you, for the hospitality, Nightmare.” Reaper offered, before his attention briefly was drawn to his back. Right! His party! He gently floated to the side, allowing, now, a better view of the two who had trailed him all the way into the throne room. Geno, it seemed, had been slowly drifting closer to Reaper’s side than his back, while Nimbus seemed startled to have been left without Reaper’s shadow to hide within. 

He took a short breath. 

“I have been accompanied by several of my own soldiers, who will be more than content to remain wherever you see fit to house them, but these two are crucial for your proceedings.” He explained, first gesturing to the demon monster. “Nimbus is my attendant, and as such I may ask him to accompany and serve me throughout my stay.” His tone was matter-of-fact. Nimbus would remain within his sights. “And this is my High Mage, Geno. It is likely he will be by my side through most meetings, but it is imperative he be involved when discussing the search, as we discussed.” 

They had talked at length about how this was to be handled. Reaper did not have the information to give through letter, nor would he have. Geno was the only one he deemed capable of dispensing information. They had to be tactical about it. Incase Nightmare chose to use any information they shared against them later on down the line. Reaper had not told him that, of course, but as a ruler, Reaper imagined the message had come across loud and clear. 

“We understand. Nimbus, High Mage Geno, I am happy that you have made the trip at your King’s side. If you require anything at all, ask any of our staff.” And Nightmare tipped his head to them ever so slightly. 

Nimbus bowed in surprise, uttering a quick ‘thank you’ while Geno just crossed his arms and nodded. Reaper wished he could split for council with his Mage, if only to ask him what the hell he thought was going on right now. There was simply no way this was the same monster who had caused such terror in his early years, nor the one attempting such reform across this entire kingdom. He looked, and sounded, as though he were ten. 

“With things settled, we can go ahead to the short tour, then guide you to your rooms for the night. If there are any questions, please ask.” Nightmare said, though as he moved to turn, he did so to the Lion Knight. “Thank you for acting as guide, my Knight. There is a meal in the private dining room, Cross should be there too. Eat, then rest up.” That command was… different. 

Like, not just the orders, which were strangelu kind, but for a moment, the King placed a hand against one of the Lion Knight’s bracer’s on his forearm. The Lion Knight stared down as the King stared up, and he gave one, slow, nod before lumbering away through an entrance behind him. 

The King watched after him, before he finally eased the opposite direction, and gestured for Reaper to join him. 

He figured it might be rude to ask so outright something like ‘why are you so tiny?’, so instead he floated closer to the small ruler and accompanied him as he began to walk, leading him, his two companions, and the Panther Knight away from the throne room with the towering stone canopy so far above. 

.

Nightmare, despite his cane, seemed to be fairly mobile. He was easy to keep pace with, and moved quickly enough that it didn’t feel like the world’s most boring museum tour. Of course, he was familiar with this place, so it seemed that there were, in fact, short-cuts which would expedite movement between locations, and not even servants tunnels either. 

It was actually a bit fascinating. Reaper hadn’t noticed it before, but most of the halls held a slight curve to them. Enough so that it was rare to enter a hallway which you could see the end of it. Like if a bowl of noodles had somehow decided the way to build this building. It was good news for him, though, that he didn’t really fear getting lost within the halls. As dreary as it was, he had yet to suspect any threats laying in wait for him. 

“This is our Main Dining Space.” Nightmare had paused his walking for a moment, and was now looking at a large, closed doorway. 

Moving a bit closer, he knocked on its surface twice. The prompted a squeak from somewhere within and the door swung open a bit to reveal a human. They blinked in surprise, staring down at Nightmare for a second, before seemingly remembering something and quickly bowing to him before raising back up. 

“My King! May I be of service?” They asked hurriedly, seemingly caught off-guard by his presence. 

Nightmare only shook his head and peered past them to see within. 

“No, no, at ease. I was just giving our guests a tour and wanted to allow them to see the space we will be dining in.” Nightmare said easily, and the human seemed to peek past him. 

At spotting Reaper, they seemed to go a bit pale and bow again, hurrying a little ‘of course!’ from their lips as they rushed to throw open the doors. 

Beyond, Reaper did look, was a large room with a very, very long table in the middle. A classic banquet hall set-up. It seemed there were various cleaning carts scattered at the moment, fine dishware and vases of black glass and utensils and even one with flowers on it. Only a small portion of the table was prepared, at the far end, but it seemed like it would be quite beautiful when it was finished. 

“Are those… white lilies?” Reaper questioned out of nowhere, squinting a bit into the room at a cart in the far distance. It was practically a beacon for his attention, seeing as everything else in the room was dark wood or draped in that black and cyan that Nightmare seemed so fond of. 

Honestly, he hadn’t really meant to ask. It had just caught him off-guard.

Out of the corner of his socket, he caught the slightest movement as Nightmare perked up beside him and joined his squint in order to see the far-off flowers. 

“Ah, yes! Orchard does not keep many records on other kingdom’s customs, but I recently learned of the tradition of gifting white lily flowers to newcomers of Sanctuary. I asked for some to be placed among the dining hall as a sort of welcome to you!” He continued looking inside, seemingly glancing around at the growing preparations.

Reaper hummed to himself. A little… stunned. This sort of hospitality was not uncommon, no, most people were formal and made gestures like this upon his visits. Perhaps he just didn’t expect something like this from Orchard. For all their past of hatefulness, cruelty, madness, and obsession, this wasn’t any of that. In fact, the little king had seemed happy to tell him that he had personally asked for the flowers. That tightness in his voice and the way he jumped at the chance to tell him so, that was an excitement all its own. 

“That’s very thoughtful of you, Nightmare.” Reaper praised, unsure of what to truly say to something like that, “May I ask where you sourced them from?” He was just curious at this rate. 

At this question, Nightmare stopped looking at the lilies within the room and shifted so he could look back up at Reaper. His eyelight was a half-circle, probably meaning his cheekbone was cutting into the space as he smiled beneath his mask. 

“Actually, these lilies were all grown and cultivated by our castle gardener! They’re quite talented and have a wide variety of plants growing in our courtyard, especially now that Summer is at its highest.” He explained, sounding pleased, “It’s weird, that our plants and soil still respond best in the heat of the summer day, but it will just take more time to return to a normal harvest schedule…” He seemed to trail off, his eyelight moving off to the side, away from Reaper and toward the stone wall opposite the dining hall. Maybe the garden was that way? 

“Well…” Reaper said, testing the waters in the silence following Nightmare’s quiet words. The small king jolted and looked back to him. “If it wasn’t already planned for the tour, I might request a visit after one of our meetings. A dear friend introduced me to horticulture ages ago and I find flowers to be quite a beautiful sight.” He continued. 

The way Nightmare brought a hand to chin, though Reaper noticed he barely touched the mask, signaled that he was thinking. Again, it took a few breaths. 

“We… should be able to fit in a formal visit. I will have to check in with our gardener to ensure everything is in order, of course.” He voiced. “We can slot it in after our discussion of import aid, it might be most fitting seeing as we will discuss the strangeness with our agriculture here…” He seemed to pause again. Reaper could practically feel the way his mind must’ve been shuffling around the schedule internally. 

He nodded to himself, seemingly pleased with his conclusion after giving it some more thought. Only… 

“Oh! Yes, right. Should you find yourself alone between any of our scheduled meetings, please do feel free to visit it yourself. Do not feel confined in your quarters during those times, I want to make sure you do not feel like a prisoner.” He quickly mentioned, practically stumbling through the words. 

Reaper hadn’t gotten that impression at all. Rather, he was interested to find that Nightmare seemed to have a personal itinerary in which he had already planned out their discussions. Something consistent, he planned things out just like he had in his letters. 

“I will be sure to explore it myself when the opportunity arises then, Nightmare. Thank you.” He agreed easily. He didn’t miss how the King seemed to nod stiffly. As though nervous. 

Why would he be nervous?

“We should keep going.” Nightmare then decided. “Thank you, Gem, please continue in peace.” He said to the servant who was still stood frigidly by the doors. Though, they seemed to ease up when Nightmare spoke to them. 

They were able to close the doors, hiding the room from view once more, before they continued onwards. 

.

“This door leads to our war-room.” Nightmare explained, placing his hand heavily against the door. 

By now, Reaper had seen the kitchens (and had been asked if he or his party had any allergies to watch out for), the library, had gotten a brief glimpse of the courtyard from an upstairs window as they briefly stopped by the smaller medical wing (the larger one was closed while they were conducting inventory), and now they were back downstairs. This door, unlike many others they had seen so far, had a heavy lock sat upon its handle. 

Reaper gazed at it curiously, and debated asking about the lock, but he had already been so chatty during the tour. He wondered if Nightmare would soon grow sick of the questions, though he seemed so happy to answer each of them. On second thought, maybe it was his own party who might grow tired of his antics. After all, Geno had been shockingly, dutifully, silent for most of the proceedings. Only a small waft of his hand through Reaper’s wings or a curious peep of a hum when Nightmare would mention something magically intriguing, which had only been once so far-

“King Nightmare, why does this room use a magical lock?” 

Ahhh curse him for praising Geno, even within his own mind! It was as though the man could sense his contentment and chose to do something so charmingly frustrating each time. 

While he didn’t fear Nightmare retaliating against his Mage, it was quite the opposite. He feared if the King were to answer one question, Geno might take advantage and ask more, and more, until he struck a nerve. He’d been at the receiving end of Geno’s question barrages before, and it was always a tad overwhelming… Then again, he did miss the early days when Geno would corner him in the parlor and demand answers. Explaining the red marks appearing under his sockets had been an interesting day indeed. Full of ‘it just happens’ from Reaper and ‘but WHY’s from Geno. 

Nightmare seemed to lean in order to properly look at Geno. Obviously he hadn’t been expecting the High Mage to speak, especially not to ask such direct a question. He stared at Geno, and Geno stared back, and they stood there for a moment. 

“It is… mostly because this is where I store defensive plans. Some of the few documents which could truly put this country in danger if I let them escape my sight.” His hand ran idly against the heavy wood. “It’s not a large room, Orchard has never been a place of expansion or outside conflict, it has always been a bubble. However, when I rose to power, it was through… unexpected events, and being unprepared, I feared that our neighbors might have smelled blood in the water and decide to attack and plunder my outer cities.” He sounded… sad. “It never came to that, thankfully, but my fear for such a happening has never quite faded, and as such this room stays here. Storing defense strategies and maps detailing our trade routes.” 

He was… quite honest about that. It seemed like he didn’t want to let them inside, which made plenty of sense to Reaper, especially if it had confidential information which could potentially give someone enough information to be able to topple a kingdom from the inside… 

“That’s… interesting. But can I ask about the lock? It doesn’t seem like a normal enchanted item.” Geno spoke up again.

Reaper only stepped back when his Mage rounded to his front and nearly bumped into him in order to stand just before the closed door. Right next to Nightmare, who seemed a bit shell-shocked by the follow-up. Would Reaper have to swoop in and ask his Mage to not ask questions about such a sensitive piece of their security? It seemed likely, but he was curious to see how Nightmare would deflect this. 

“The- the lock.” He repeated, almost to himself, even though geno just hummed and nodded, peering down at it. “It ah. It was designed by my own royal mage and enlisted the help of a local blacksmith to forge it. I believe they informed me of its creation having been through infusion of intent and predetermined magic signatures with the metal itself?” he sounded confused, and more hesitant about sharing this information with the mage. “It has been quite some time since it was installed, so I’m a bit rusty on the details.” 

Geno glanced back to Nightmare, actually looking at him for the first time since he’d asked the initial question. 

“Infused.” He parroted back. Nightmare nodded to him. “Interesting. We’re going to speak with your mage for one of these meetings, right? Weren’t they an attack-caster?” 

At that, Nightmare’s eyelight seemed to grow a bit bigger. Was it at the mention of his mage? The attacks? That Geno was showing interest in this tour finally? Reaper couldn’t quite tell, though he was amused. 

“Yes, your meeting with them is scheduled for tomorrow, to allow time to discuss our more pressing matters.” he answered that question first. It made sense, Reaper had told Nightmare that it was unlikely they would need much weaponry, as they were a peaceful country, but that his own mage might like to meet his. They had more important things to discuss before a meet-n-greet. “And, as for my Mage, they are very talented in many, many ways. Though, they focus mostly on practical items as well as magical weaponry. They are one of my very valued hidden assets.” 

Geno seemed to take another glance at the lock, before noddin again. 

“I’ll definitely have to ask them where they went to academy. Not a lot of mages can make items like these that actually function as intended.” He voiced, already passing by Reaper again. It seemed like he was finished with his thoughts, or rather had just moved to thinking them rather than speaking on it. Unfortunately, Geno had missed a step in the interaction that Reaper often gave him slack for during their conversations, but which they could not afford to forget now.

As Geno passed him, he stuck out a smokey wing right in his path, which he did in fact pass directly through. His mage let out a startled cough and waved at the black smoke that permeated around his skull, shooting Reaper a confused and slightly offended look. 

Reaper stared back at him, brow furrowed just a bit, and used his head to nod towards where nightmare was watching them in curiosity. 

Geno glared at him for a second. Reaper knew just about how long it would take for Geno to recognize this song and dance. Three seconds or so. That was when he sighed in realization and turned around swiftly, battering Reaper’s smoky wing out of his way without much hesitation. Only when Reaper contentedly retracted his wing did Geno speak.

“Thank you, King Nightmare. For answering my questions.” He said. His tone didn’t hold any of that begrudging energy which he had given to Reaper moments before, and he waited in place, watching for the little King’s reaction. 

Nightmare looked between them for a moment, Geno and Reaper. He seemed even more wide-eyed than before. His hand rose to cover the space of the cat mask where its mouth sat, and no doubt his own sat just behind it. And after a moment, a joyous little noise escaped, not at all hindered or muffled. A quiet snrk followed almost immediately by a giggle. 

Now, in any other situation, this would have made for a good sign. A sign that both visitor and host were becoming more comfortable. Ease between parties would make negotiations much less tense, and humor could be a good backboard to spring off discussions or lighten the blow of a firm ‘no’ later on down the line. Reaper would have probably been happy, in any other circumstance, to learn that Nightmare had a sense of humor, and perhaps he was even charmed by the odd behavior of his Mage as much as Reaper was. But instead this made him immensely worried. 

That was not the voice of a man. Not even a young man. That was a boy. He had been sure, upon arrival, that there had been something different about him. Perhaps he was unwell. Magic tended to retreat inward when a monster grew sick in order to provide more power and strength to the soul. Fire elementals dimmed their flames, soldiers could not summon attacks, skeletons often lost first their external magic such a ectobodies, then eventually their eyelights. Nightmare was missing one already, and he was frail. So, perhaps he was sick. Or, maybe he was hiding his power, concealing it, containing it. For a ploy? To make Reaper more comfortable? He had hoped it was something like that. It seemed it wasn’t. The information piled onto Reaper like a weight in his chest. This was truly just a young boy. Guiding him around the castle, preparing to speak with him on subjects that most young boys couldn’t be bothered to even consider. And now he had shown childish joy at the sight of his own and his Mage’s behavior. The final piece which Reaper could not explain away. 

His mind raced and tripped over itself. Was this… was this somehow the previous King’s son? A ‘Nightmare II’? That would make no sense, though. The first would still have to be around somewhere. Perhaps this boy was a puppet or pawn set in place by the true king? But, no, why would he continue to be led about by a puppet king. Why would they even need a puppet king if the public wasn’t aware of his presence? There had been rumors of an illness in the king, but aside from his frailty he seemed quite healthy. He sensed no death on him. How could a king born over two decades prior still be so young…?

“Forgive me, Reaper. High Mage.” Another slight giggle, before a gentle sign. The lighter tone of Nightmare drew Reaper back out of his thoughts. Thank the gods he had still been watching Geno and had not been turned to the King. “It’s just refreshing to see your camaraderie. And you are very welcome, High Mage. You can ask me any questions you like as well. I just may not be as prepared to answer them as my Mage would be.” 

He sounded happy. Which was great for them. It seemed he was happy with Reaper too. It just… Oh this would not be a fun conversation to have later. 

“None needed, Nightmare. Thank you for the kind gesture.” Reaper spoke for the both of them. “Now, shall we continue? Before my Mage gets any more curious about your very important locks?” He prompted. 

Nightmare nodded in agreement with a confirmation of, “That would be for the best.” Before he started off again down the hall. Reaper took up formation beside him once more.

.

The Royal Wing had been truly interesting. If not just because it seemed to be one of the most elaborate spaces in the entire castle, from doors to wall carvings, to decor, to even plants which seemed to be growing along the ceiling, but also because it was where Nightmare resided, as well as his Knights. They hadn’t spent much time, only passed through, but Nightmare explained that because his Knights had such diverse backgrounds and schedules that differed greatly to the rest of his guard (a clever way to skip about many of their criminal histories) he had chosen to instead room them nearby to himself. Now that much of their training was routine rather than starting, it worked to ensure that he always had someone nearby in case of emergency. 

As they passed through, Reaper spotted that most doors in the hall remained open. Displaying a common room, a music hall with instruments carefully hung on every wall, a big open space which seemed to be pretty desolate, but then there were the closed doors. The ones further back often remained open, people within the castle knew not to occupy the spaces or linger long so there was no need to close them when they weren’t in use, but those closed ones were personal rooms. Four of them on one side, then two on the other. Nightmare claimed using two of his, one sealed for sentimental purposes. The others were then assumed to be those of the knights. Four of them. So that meant that extra room either belonged to the owner of the white cat mask which sat on Nightmare’s skull, or the Trainee who should have been a knight by now. 

…Though, honestly the King’s number of highly trained combatants was some of the least of his worries at the moment. 

Now, they had reached the final stop of the tour. One of the guest halls, where the three of them would be staying for the remainder of their visit. They were given a free pick of their rooms, and Reaper chose one with a balcony which looked out over the courtyard. Below he could see the gorgeous plants growing green under the westward sun. It would provide him fresh air and morning light when he awoke, and a good position to perch or fly off if need be. Which he doubted. 

Geno stationed himself in the next room over. That one was decorated with a sort of mural of all sorts of animals and critters that enveloped an entire wall. When he asked, Nightmare informed them that several rooms and halls deeper within the castle had been lovingly painted and decorated by his artisans. He’s had them for years, and every once in a while they would see fit to retouch a room entirely. Reaper thought it was pleasant, but he knew that Geno had only chosen this room for its table space. No doubt he would be attempting to spell-write within, which Reaper would have to put a stop to. Before an unsuspecting servant decides to pick up one of his unfinished crystals while cleaning and be given an unpleasant brainfreeze from the effects gone wrong. …He was certainly not preparing this due to experience. 

Nimbus had chosen the room across from Geno.one of the rooms with fluffy pillows. He insisted, red-faced, that was not the reason that he chose it when Geno asked, but Reaper and Nightmare both encouraged him to enjoy it, which had made him even redder. 

Nightmare, by that point, seemed a lot more comfortable guiding them, though he also seemed to step more gingerly and idle longer when they stopped. By the time Nightmare parted ways from them, letting them know that servants would be along with their belongings shortly in his wake and that the Panther Knight could show them where they would be meeting for discussions, Reaper had almost forgotten their fourth party member. 

Your Shadow. That was what Nightmare had described him as when they were first introduced, and it was still just as true now, as Reaper waved after Nightmare and sought to see where that Knight had even gone. 

The answer to that query seemed to be that he’d stationed himself right in the space between Reaper and Geno’s doors. Such a small figure, he leaned with his back to the wall and his hood’s shadow shielding the sockets of his mask from view. He was a silent one, and clearly skilled. It was rare that Reaper forgot anything, let alone an entire person trailing him for the past who knew how many hours. 

Reaper peeled his eyes away from the little knight. Just in time, too, as servants rounded the entryway to the hall carrying familiar bags which they had packed. Nimbus worked to direct these servants to place the right belongings into the right rooms. Reaper thanked them as they left. He stood in the hallway, Nimbus busy unpacking his items in his room, and Geno returning to bump his shoulder with his own in question. 

As much as he wanted to wander. To discuss things with Geno. To take a look at these flowers. He couldn’t bring himself to do so. He just… needed a moment to think. In all his years as a ruler, he had never come across a situation so puzzling. 

He told Geno as much, to get a moment of respite, before turning towards his room. Though, he paused in the doorway, peering down at the small Panther Knight.

“Thank you, Sir Panther. Please summon myself when it is time to meet with your King.” He said quietly. 

He was not given a response beyond a sturdy nod of confirmation. 

…That was good enough for him. 

.

These talks had run long into the day, so long, in fact, that it was already almost sunset. Nightmare was already apologizing for how long he had allowed the prior meetings to run, and offering to reschedule the remaining discussion for tomorrow. Apparently he hadn’t planned for the import discussion with the Lion Knight after lunch to have taken so long. The two of them had just grown so invested in explaining how the harsh sunny weather which those old rituals had forced to stay constant had really stunted their production once the normal weather patterns returned. Then, on how they had been slowly working towards fixing those issues by re-introducing crops that were once native, and outsourcing seeds away from those that required the harsh sunlight to germinate. 

Reaper had honestly been fascinated by most of it, just as he had been when Nightmare introduced to him his complex set of trade routes he would like to implement to Sanctuary. Ones that, theoretically, would not compromise the neutrality of the nations between them while still providing safe passage. And just as he had been when nightmare explained one of his newer laws. He had no doubt in his mind that Nightmare (and his subordinates for that matter, he had not expected the Lion Knight to know so much of agriculture) really knew what he was talking about. He was surely no puppet king. But he was also not a normal child. 

“Nightmare, if I may?” Reaper gently interrupted the worried promises of a bright and early morning discussion being arranged if necessary. Nightmare quieted and nodded, prompting Reaper to continue. “I believe it would be best to still have that meeting tonight. If I know my Mage, he will not rest properly without hearing at least an initial verdict regarding our ability to begin the search.” He suggested.

It was true, Geno would be restless. A restless Geno often led to nighttime frustrations and a cranky morning in which he would verbally tempt the gods to strike him where he stood at least once, which Reaper did not think would be a good state of mind for the discussion. He had learned that lesson fairly quickly. 

“Alright. So long as you and your party prefer it that way, then I agree.” He gave in so easily. Reaper suspected he also wished to conclude business for the day and not have any spill over to the next morn. 

“I am sure we will be alright. Though, I must make a request of you that you may not prefer, before we continue with our next meeting.” He said, then. 

It had been dancing at the back of his mind. The burning questions which made him so uncertain ever since he had laid eyes on Nightmare for the first time. He needed them answered. 

Nightmare seemed to hesitate, before prompting him to make his request. 

“I ask you for a discussion. Only the two of us here. Just for a brief few minutes.” He offered evenly. 

That struck a nerve. 

Nightmare, where he sat on the couch across the table in one of the parlors, sunk backwards a bit at the request. Hardly able to hide how reproachful he seemed at the idea. But behind him, that was his biggest shock. 

Nearly literally. The air in the room suddenly felt different, and Reaper thought he heard the snap of something familiar. A haze, hot quick. Electricity magic, or something of the like, an aura permeating from the space behind him where he knew the Panther Knight was stood vigil last he checked. So that was it. He was a talented magic-caster. He had obviously pushed a threshold he was not meant for yet. 

“I understand that you have no reason to trust me, especially with my natural magic. However, I will not allow any more discussion until I am able to have a private talk with you and you alone.” He put his foot down, tone becoming firm in the same way he would worriedly scold Geno. “If it eases your mind, or that of your Knight, then I will not move from this seat. I will not raise a hand, or shift a leg, or even turn my head. I only wish to talk.” 

With those words, Reaper allowed his shadowy wings to dissipate into the air. No longer holding them together, he undoubtedly seemed… smaller. Hopefully less harmful. 

Nightmare stared at him, his one good eyelight a bit smaller than before. Then he glanced past Reaper. To his Knight. For council? For support? 

It seemed like an eternity, as Reaper held himself just as he said he would. He hated to put the ruler into such a position, such undue stress when he had been such a good host thus far. Reaper just… he had to know. 

“Okay.” Nightmare finally sighed. 

“My King.” Spoke a voice from behind Reaper. Was that the Panther Knight? His voice was deeper, raspier, than Reaper had expected. Those were the first words he had spoken within Reaper’s vicinity all day. 

Nightmare seemed to look past Reaper with even more worry in his body language than before, but shook his head at the Knight. His hands were clasped against his lap, worrying at the fabric of his cloak. His shoulders seemed tense beneath it. He sat further back on the couch than he had been all day. 

“My Knight, I’ll be okay. You’ll be just outside the door.” Nightmare urged. 

That static feeling did not leave the room, nor did the echo of intent which ghosted across Reaper’s senses. Frustration. Disgust. Fear. Anger. An intent to do harm if harm was done. This knight was deathly loyal. Entirely unwilling to leave his King’s side. Reaper wondered, silently, if it was worth asking the question. 

“I… understand your weariness. Both of you.” He voiced slowly, drawing their attention back to himself. “However, my kingdom has stood for centuries under my rule. Nightmare, if I agree to these treaties, then you will be my first Ally in all my years of ruling. I do not make these decisions lightly. I do not make them uninformed. I do not make them for no reason.” Each word he said calmly, but he allowed emotions to break through to his expression ever so slightly. The guilt he felt for making this request in the first place dancing on his tongue. “There is someone so special to me that I find myself here, in your kingdom of checkered past and silver tongues, attempting to make a deal so that I might ease his sorrows and bring him joy by locating his lost loved one. I will not bring harm to you. I only seek your honesty. So I may know that I am not in cahoots with a God-King of old.”

The silence to follow was almost deafening. 

His fellow King stared at him as though he had grown a second head. The crackling behind him had grown more frequent. This was the only card he could play. 

The silence droned on. Nightmare lowered his head to gaze at his lap. His Knight remained frozen in place. Reaper did not move an inch. 

“My Knight. Leave us.” Nightmare finally instructed. 

His voice was not strong. It came out rather squeaky, in fact, and he did not raise his head. 

The Knight still seemed disgruntled. Frustration bleeding through the static charge in the room. Though, Reaper heard quiet, light steps approach the door that sat somewhere behind him. 

“Don’t move an inch.” The Knight muttered, presumably at Reaper. 

The door clicked closed, and the static energy became muffled as its master left the confines of the four wooden walls. It wasn’t gone, but it was enough-so that Reaper knew the knight was, at the very least, just on the other side of the door. That was good enough. 

He sighed a bit, an apology on his tongue for forcing the Knight from the room, only to be beaten to the chase by the God-King himself. Now looking up from his lap, glaring with his one good eyelight. 

“What were your questions, Reaper?” He demanded, though his voice seemed small. 

Reaper, as promised, did not move. Only closed his sockets for a moment as he drummed up the correct phrasing for what he wanted to ask. How could he… How could he present this without sounding insane?

“Nightmare… Your coronation day. It was your thirteenth birthday.” He stated calmly, voice low. Nightmare did not respond. “I only know because your mother sent me an invitation, offering me to come and see her before she ‘ascended’. To meet her heir. Dream.” He continued, and didn’t miss in the slightest how Nightmare flinched at the name of his sibling. He wondered why that was. “I did not go. I did not care for your mother, to put it lightly, and I swore long ago I would never come to this land. So, I was not there to see you take the crown. I was unaware there was even another prince for the crown to be given to. But, you are twins. So, you must have been thirteen as well.” 

Nightmare’s eyelight had become small in his socket. He muttered a quiet, “Yes. Your point?” but nothing more. 

“I see the ways in which your land is healing. In which you are doing good things to help your people. I see how you are nothing like your mother, just as you claimed in your initial response to my requests. Though, I also see that you are nothing like the ‘tyrant’ who claimed the crown for himself eight years ago. No monstrous magic, no heads severed from bodies, no grown twenty-one year old leading a country.” he took a light breath. “You are Nightmare, but you are no God-King. I wish to know why you are still so young. After all these years.” 

It was true. Reaper had little doubt in his mind that this was that Nightmare. As much as it seemed unlikely. Stranger things had happened to monsters in the past. Reaper wondered if there had been an incident. Eternal youth, perhaps? Nim had always seemed obsessed with her beauty, after all.

Nightmare was still staring at him, seemingly unsure of what to say. 

“Not- not ‘still’ young.” He said, then, his voice barely audible. Reaper watched him, wordlessly. “After my coronation. The ritual of the power transfer from king to king. I finished it. I- I became a God-King. An adult. With a dark magic all over my body. I killed those who needed to be killed, and I learned, and I grew, and I was an accomplished king. I- I was finally figuring everything out.” He stammered. Perhaps he realized Reaper knew. On some level, Reaper kne what was wrong. 

“Many months ago I- I suddenly lost the magic. I became young again. It- it was after we were already in correspondence, and no one- no one knew what was happening. I- I had hoped it would come back before we met, so- so that this opportunity wouldn’t slip through my fingers. But it didn’t- and- and I don’t think it will. So I asked you here despite it.” He bowed his head a bit. 

Reaper stared at him for a moment. A moment of wonder, and confusion, and worry. Intense worry. 

“So… that magic of the God-Kings is now gone. And you… You are thirteen once again?” He recapped, very briefly, receiving a nod. “Yet you still invited me into your home. Your weakened kingdom. Someone who can kill a living soul at just a glancing contact. Someone with a history of war.  …Why risk it?” 

Genuinely, he couldn’t fathom any smart ruler willingly inviting Reaper in when they were weakened even slightly. Now, though. Just after an attack, with only two full Knights at the ready. Even now, sitting alone in this room with him. 

“I- My people! They need this allyship so, so badly. Sanctuary has plentiful harvests and knowledgeable experts, trade would boost our lowering food reserves greatly. And- and not to mention it would open discussion to architects in later discussions. We- we have flooding issues, and I have heard that Sanctuary has ways to prevent those. Ones better than we could hope to conceive of here. And the peace. I promised my people that some day I would be- be able to make their lives easier. Sanctuary has that, and- and if I can show them that it is obtainable, then perhaps they will breath a bit easier.” He hurried, his voice growing into an uneven whisper. “Please. I know that you are only here to search for your Mage’s sibling, and- and I do want to help you find them, but this trade- it- it can’t fall through because of my age or state. I am a fit ruler- I can- I work hard- I-” 

At this, Nightmare seemed to lean forward a bit so that his elbows could rest on his knees and he could clutch his chest slightly. He seemed… afraid. 

Shit. If this young boy was like this for months, that- That would explain the letters in which the diction seemed jolting. The way that the Tiger Knight had potentially gotten slain. The reason the Panther seemed so unwilling to leave him alone here with Reaper, the biggest threat to his health possible. This boy really was running this country all on his own. Magic-less. With a heart of gold. 

Damn did he feel like an asshole for cornering him like this. 

“Nightmare.” Reaper voiced, though he could hear the trembling breath coming from beyond the cat mask which covered his face. “I will not be pulling away from this deal. I will not be overstepping my boundaries again like this. I will, however, extend my years of rule to you, as an apology gift.” 

Nightmare didn’t seem to be able to calm his breathing, but he did raise his head enough that Reaper figured he was okay to continue. 

“You are young. I am not. I am interested in you and the growth you may provide to Orchard in the future. You have no mentor with experience in ruling, so far as I have seen, and if you truly wish for peace for your people then I would like to help see it come to fruition.” He explained, trying his best to gently smile at the boy king. “You do not need to accept this gift, it comes with no price tag, I do not seek to manipulate or influence your decisions. I simply want you to know that I am sincerely sorry for placing you in a position such as this. That was all I wished to ask you, and you may call your Knight back in at any time.” 

Reaper was silent after those words. He had hoped it wouldn’t have gone this badly, though he wasn’t sure what he had been expecting. Some sort of magical reveal of a fake appearance? Some evil mastermind to arrive from the shadows? No, this was just a young royal who gave himself an impossible task: Restoring Orchard. And Reaper had made him reveal a damning truth to him before they were even allies. 

His head justified such a behavior so easily before now. If he is unfit, it could bring enemies to Sanctuary. If he is ill and dies, your contract will carry over to the next ruler, of whom he has no heir. If he is a puppet, you must learn who is pulling the strings lest you back yourself into a corner. You go to war. It all seemed so foolish, looking at him now. This boy was no threat to Reaper. Not so long as they both kept their word from here on out. 

Nightmare shivered and shook as he tried to catch his breath. Reaper thought he heard a breathy countdown repeat a few times, but it could have been his mind playing tricks on him. 

“I- What-” Nightmare breathed out the words quietly. Raising his head a little, Reaper could see his good eyelight was cloudy now. “I- I think I need a recess.” He mumbled. “Dust, you may return!” He called out then, before slapping a hand to the space where his mouth hid beneath his mask. 

Dust must have been the Panther Knight’s true name, then. Reaper’s informants had been right enough with that one.

The knight opened the door less than a moment after Nightmare had said his name, and he strode across the room more quickly than Reaper had seen him move all day. Immediately standing beside where his King still stood, hunched forward. With him flooded that static feeling, a trail of the stuff almost rippling in waves of energy, and- wait… 

The Knight was glaring at him from across the short distance, and that was completely understandable all things considered, but Reaper was much more focused on his surroundings. He hadn’t felt it before but… it was as though he had a thin film of something hovering just away from his bones. More focus towards its presence revealed exactly what it was. An electric field, almost like a booby trap. If Reaper had moved to reach Nightmare? It likely would have signaled to the knight that there was trouble. He would’ve had no problem busting in here to defend his king. He was smart. 

“My King. You okay?” Dust questioned his king, though his eyelights did not stray from Reaper’s position. 

Nightmare only shuddered a bit before nodding. 

“Yes- Yes I’m alright, my Knight. King Reaper only wished to discuss my stature.” He said with a bit of a stutter as he tried again to properly catch his breath. “I- I wish to accompany you to a short recess. We will send for the High Mage while we are away so we may discuss the disappearance.” He insisted. 

Reaper did not put up any qualms about being left alone in the room when the King rose to his feet and hurried out using his cane. His knight followed closely after him, obviously more worried about his charge than leaving Reaper unsupervised. And only when he sensed the electric field had completely dissipated did he dare to shift himself.

He was justified in his actions, he knew so, but that didn’t mean he didn’t feel awful about it in the aftermath. 

.

Geno arrived before Nightmare returned. He was escorted by the Trainee, but was the only one to actually enter the room. 

“Well, you look exhausted.” Geno pointed out as he plopped down on the sitting couch right beside him. At least his humor hadn’t faded in these hours of waiting. 

Reaper released a short ‘Ha!’ Before sitting up a little straighter beside his Mage. 

“You truly don’t know the half of it… Regardless, I should try to tighten my loose joints. This is the most valuable discussion of the day.” He joked. 

He caught the way Geno’s head tilted a bit to the side. Reaper was sitting to his right, so regrettably he could only see his bandaged socket, and not the one with his very expressive eyelight. He would survive without it, though. Geno was the one who needed to do the talking this time around. Any and all information shared to Nightmare had to come from Geno first. They had decided it together ages ago, though by now? Reaper was pretty sure Nightmare wouldn’t use the kid against them, even if he had the chance. 

Geno only hummed in acknowledgement, his hands fidgeting with the hem of his scarf, ignoring the crystals and instead moving right for the bright red fabric. The little movement filled the silence with the quiet shff shff of shuffled fabric, but Reaper didn’t mind. It was nice. 

Oh stars, he wished he could lean into Geno’s side right about now and just rest his face along his shoulder… 

The silence persisted for minutes. The two of them just waiting. Quietly. 

Click. 

And just like that, the little King was returned. 

He moved easily past where the two sat to return to his own couch, and much like before, Reaper spotted the Panther Knight, Dust, return to his post near the inside of the door in order to guard them. He… must’ve not messed up that poorly. If he had, that Knight would probably have remained vigil right near Nightmare’s side for this discussion as well. 

Nightmare sat, perched on the very edge of his couch, just as he had for discussions earlier in the day, and the only sign of his previous distress was a little fuzziness to his eyelight. So little that he was positive geno wouldn’t even notice it. 

“Thank you for waiting so patiently for this discussion, High Mage Geno. I got a bit… carried away with discussing other agreements during my prior meetings with King Reaper.” Nightmare’s composure had returned, as well. Good. That was good. His attention was focused solely on Geno now that he spoke. 

“It’s no problem, King Nightmare. I’m actually pretty used to pulling all nighters, and the sun’s barely set.” He said matter-of-factly, scarf idly pinched between his index finger and thumb. “Where do we start?” 

Nightmare raised a finger momentarily, and reached his hand into his cloak. From somewhere within, he produced a small leatherbound journal. On the table between them, among a few decor items, were a few ink pens and inkwells. He dragged a pen and well to set in the space before him, before he flipped open a few pages into the book and looked back up to Geno. 

“Things in our letters were kept vague, in case a message were intercepted by any malicious third parties. As much as I am personally unable to send reinforcements out to aid in the search, I would still like to know the details of this disappearance, as much as you are willing to share.” He explained plainly, “I have quite a few members of my staff who reside from cities all over Orchard and may have contacts who we can direct you to, as well as a few other parties who could lend advice in your search. After, we can discuss your King’s plan to seek this person out, and see for its feasibility.” 

Geno seemed to wait for Nightmare to ready his pen before he sighed. 

“The missing person is my youngest sibling.” he announced first. Reaper saw the way that Nightmare’s grip tightened on his pen, just ever so slightly. “Not long after I was hired by Reaper to be his High Mage and moved to Sanctuary, he was expelled from his magic academy. My other sibling, his older brother, was supposed to be home to pick him up for the weekend, but apparently he wasn’t. Got his dates mixed up.” Geno held the scarf between his fingers tighter, as though he could pinch a hole straight though its sturdy fabric. “By the time my other brother realized and got home, my youngest had left a note on the counter, took the rainy-day coin we had saved up, and… had run away.” 

Nightmare, Reaper didn’t have to see his face to know, was giving Geno a worried stare. A pitying one. No one likes to see a little sibling go missing. 

“You… said you had to move to work for Reaper. Where did you initially live?” Nightmare asked. 

Geno nodded a bit. “Ironfields. The northern border cities, just on the outskirts.” He explained. 

Nightmare jotted that down, before his brow furrowed a little. He seemed confused. 

“You believe that he went missing somewhere here in Orchard? How young was your brother?” It was a fair question. Reaper had been confused all the same when he’d read the initial letter from Fresh. That meant Error had made amazing time in the four days he’d been missing. But… then again, he was supposedly a very capable young man, and both Ironfields and Orchard were fairly flat territories with little resistance so long as one stayed on the roads. 

“Yes. I know-so.” Geno shot back, before reeling himself in a little. “Other brother. He’s a beast-tamer, and he tracked the scent of our youngest over the course of a full week. Only to get to a city not far from here and have the trail run completely cold. He should be fourteen by now.” Reaper always felt awful when geno thought on this moment. He, at that time, was just settling into his new workshop, excitedly filling the room with all sorts of gorgeous crystal spells, and accompanying Reaper to dinners so he could introduce his new High Mage to the rest of his court. He had no idea Fresh was out attempting to track down their a-wol sibling. He wouldn’t know for a time yet. 

“Okay, I understand.” Nightmare confirmed after another moment of jotting. “Do you know the name of the town, or any notable landmarks perhaps?” 

Geno nodded. “No clue on the name, the locals wouldn’t tell a foreigner anything, and my brother can’t read Orchard’s written dialect, but I know that he said the last place the scent led to was a large colosseum arena.” 

A nod from Nightmare, and he jotted down more into his notebook. “That would be Apricourt, one of our biggest travel hubs. It’s a good location for festivals, but a bad place to lose a traveling companion due to all the foot traffic…” He muttered, almost to himself, “Do you know about how long ago he went missing? If it was just before King Reaper sent his letter, then-”

“About a year and a half? Two?” Geno clutched the scarf’s edge a little tightly as Nightmare’s head shot up from his writing mid-stroke. “I know! I know it’s been a long time. It’s just… my brother didn’t tell me that our youngest was missing until a few months ago. He’s been searching relentlessly all over Orchard and couldn’t find a single hint of him after that day. He thinks our brother is dead, he was searching for dust to bury, but I can’t believe that. He’s okay, somewhere. Right now.” He practically commanded the universe with those last words. As though he would personally rip it apart and find a way to piece it back together if his words weren’t fact. His skull tilted with his chin up, determined, as he looked at Nightmare’s face. 

The king’s eyelight had grown smaller. 

He shot back to his book, writing the final few lines there on the line before he lifted it once more. 

“I- I see… There was only one large event we held during that time, I was busy with matters pertaining to my Knights… but I did hold an event. One that was a big festival, where I invited mages from within the kingdom and outside to audition to become my Royal Mage. I… Orchard has not had one for centuries, and I wanted to right that wrong. Perhaps he was drawn by the allure of the contest?” Nightmare suggested, though he did not sound hopeful. 

Geno hummed. “My brother did say the ground was pretty dirty. The scents got all mixed up, so there were probably a lot of people just there.” he agreed, intently watching as Nightmare wrote in his book. 

“Though, if this was almost two years ago, then your brother would have been twelve. If he was honest with those I placed as judges, then he would have been turned away long before I arrived. I had just passed a law forbidding children under the age of 16 to be hired as workers, or to be used as indentured servants to pay off debt, among other issues. I ensured that no one so young would be exploited by the castle under my rule.” He explained himself, “Although, the judges are still under my employment as magic tutors, and one of my Knights as well as my Royal Mage were present as well. Perhaps, tomorrow, I could gather them so that you could describe your sibling. See if they recall anyone like him.” 

Despite having said he didn’t have resources to spare, Nightmare still offered to arrange meetings. How generous of him. 

Geno seemed to perk up at the sound of that. 

“That would be great. Really.” Geno voiced. 

Nightmare nodded, then tipped the end of the pen up to rest against the nose of his cat mask. A hum. Another tap. 

“If that yields nothing, I might be able to offer you something else to help. It would only work on a small scale, but my Royal Mage recently developed a device which can track a monster’s magical signal from a distance. It is still in early phases, and you would need samples of your brother’s in-tact magic trace, but there is a chance that my Mage would be willing to make your search parties a few to use in the coming weeks.” He added as well. 

Again, how generous of him. Reaper couldn’t imagine this poor kid surviving the harsh reality of Orchard’s past. How was it that he was doing so well now?

“I suppose that is my queue to interject.” Reaper spoke up, and he didn’t miss how Nightmare jolted a bit as he glance to him. He tried not to let it show that it bothered him. How reproachful he’d accidentally made the boy. “My plan to search Orchard was to send out teams of two or three, some of my personal serveilling teams. They would skim through each town, looking for signs of my Mage’s sibling, attempt infiltrate shady locations, anything of the like. They would be under direct orders not to harm your citizens unless a threat to our target.” Reaper explained, “However. It would make things much faster and less suspicious if those tracking spells you mentioned were able to be given out among them.” 

Nightmare stared at him for a few breaths, before noting something in his book. 

“That will entirely depend on the willingness of my mage. They’ve had a very busy past few weeks, so I’ll ask that you respect if they are unwilling to craft any for you. I only brought it up as an additional option.” He voiced his worry. “Though, I have a feeling that worry will be unneeded once he speaks with you, High Mage.” 

Geno nodded again, understanding. 

A silence followed for a few beats. 

“I believe that this is all we can discuss for the night. I will be of no more help to you, since I was not present in the area, but I will have word sent to the parties who may have seen something. We will meet tomorrow after the midday meal, as a group. Though, I do believe the morning meeting between Mages will still be valuable.” Nightmare offered into the quiet. 

Reaper spared a glance to Geno, but his Mage only took a deep breath before nodding quietly. 

“I do agree with your assessment, Nightmare. Your help is very deeply appreciated.” Reaper said. 

“Yes, thank you, King Nightmare.” Geno added. 

Nightmare nodded to the two of them. 

“My Knight, will you escort the King and his Mage back to their rooms? Cross can accompany me to issue summons, then to my quarters.” He requested of the Panther Knight. It seemed the monster would once again become their shadow, which Reaper was honestly a bit grateful for. Keeping a loyal soldier near them at all times, especially one as clever as that? It was a smart move. 

.

“Did you hear him, Reaper? There’s no way my brother could resist a magic contest. One of the judges has to have seen him.”