#From telling him he's a fine knight to taking him on patrol

[if-i-could-fly-h0me]

Arthur lifting Mordred up in his arms like a proud father isn't talked about enough

[long-live-astronerd-ghost-king]

DPXDC prompt: Spiritual Siblings

Bruce: My assassin kid can't be that normal!

Damian: Well, I’m completely emotionally stable by Amity Park standards. The problem is with you. Obviously.

~~~~~

Damian had long found peace and home in Amity, so he did not worry that the new family and Gotham might not accept him.

Sure, Al Ghul had lived without any contact with his biological father all these years but he could safely say that he had a happy childhood. First years were hard and he was raised more as a weapon than a human being. Even so, after that a ghost who decided to become his brother appeared and everything changed.

Damian still does not know what Ra's owes Phantom but Danny has a right to take him, without prior notification, to live with Fentons, to visit Aunt Alicia at her farm, and to make Vlad’s weekends much less calm and boring. Danny jokes that he just steals him as a hostage when Al Ghul does not pay taxes for using Lazarus Pits. Whatever the reason, he already has a family that loves him.

However, he still wanted to make an effort to fit in this one too. The model of conduct certainly was his older brother. No, not the oldest, of course. To be honest Dan wasn’t the kind of a man that could charm you from the first minute. But Danny, in Damian’s experience, had a calming effect on people. So he tried to act like him.

And, yeah, for lack of experience, he was more fun!Danny at home and super!Danny on patrol but he also really tried not to get any of his own assassin personality in his new-self and was tired of it. He couldn’t get a 100% match. Fine. Still doesn’t look like anyone in this house really likes him, so whatever.

Damian understood why Bruce didn't like his company. Jazz had long ago explained to him the importance of voluntary consent. His mother did a terrible thing. Al Ghul was not a child and therefore he was ready to admit it. However, he also understood that children were not responsible for the actions of their parents.

As a biosocial being, he wanted to be more than just a painful reminder of what had happened to Bruce. Wayne's ignoring of his existence was rude. But Damian wouldn't force this man to spend time with him just because he was legally obligated to take care of his well-being. He wasn't going to prove anything to Batman, and he definitely didn't need his attention. The care of his real family is enough.

But Damian really tried to get along with new potential siblings. He even shared Sam's and Danny’s special jokes with some of adopted kids 'cause he didn’t want them to feel like he put himself above them. He wasn't good at showing emotions but he was as open as the assassin could afford to be to strangers.

But they all obviously expected something from him. And it reminded him of the League in an unpleasant way. It was easier with Fentons. Almost everyone in Amity Park was saying what they thought, and Damian didn’t have to waste time decoding potential conspiracies.

Damian missed movie marathon nights with Sam, Tucker, and Danny. And he hoped Dani had time to bother Vlad in his absence.

It was so weird here. When Danny and Valerie were fighting, they would gather at the dinner table anyway. When Damian wanted to have combat training with Drake here, he was forced to stay in his room. A very strange punishment. And undeserved one too.

Al Ghul felt quite calm and fine sitting at his easel and painting the people he left behind. An unusual subject for his paintings. But, Ancients, he missed Amity.

He missed Jack's bone breaking hugs, Maddie's Ecto-Contaminated food, arguments of Sam and Tucker, cozy art class with Mr. Baxter and even Vlad's done look. He missed Danny telling him about the stars. He also missed sword practice with Dan's boyfriend Fright Knight and he missed Dan's stories about his other youth. He missed literary evenings with Mr. Lancer, Clockwork and Ghost Writer. He even missed the hours-long Jazz lectures. He missed the dance of death and life. He missed being looked at without expecting anything from him. He missed the crowd. In the league, he was never at one with himself and in Amity he was always surrounded by people who were not afraid of his fate as the heir to the said League. This Manor was full of people, but for the first time in his life he felt lonely. Damian has to admit that he felt left behind. Of course, he understood that people needed time to build relationships, but he could have sworn that even he didn't need that much time to connect with Fentons. Maybe this is one of the tricks of the Clockwork? Then this one is not funny at all.

~~~~~Phone call~~~~ Damian: Mom, I want to go home. Maddie: I'm so sorry to hear that, sweetheart. What happened? Damian: Just…Nobody likes me. Why was I sent here? I'm not weak. And my brothers are quite capable of protecting me from Raas. I don't need Batman for this. Maddie: We'll figure it out, champ. Moms love you, remember? I'll talk to Talia, okay? Your brothers and sisters are already on edge and ready to steal you right during the patrol. Damian: It would be nice, but it would put a bat on their tails. So lock them in thermoses if they bother you too much. Maddie: But that won't stop Jazz. Damian: I missed the part where that's my problem. Maddie: Well, it will be your problem if she comes to your doorstep with your childhood photos and moralizing.

~~~~~~~~

It's his birthday. And he was always excited about it. But now, looking at the pile of gifts, he realizes that these people don't know him at all.

And this is the family of the best detective in the world? Maybe yes, but none of them bothered to really find info about him or ask him about his likes. Damian's a stranger here, and that's obvious.

The lunch container, which he will obviously give to the Boxing Lunch when he's in the right time interval, tennis rackets that Youngblood might like, The Graveyard Book…

Valerie had already read it to him and Dani before it was published. Thanks to Clockwork for his little miracles. The book reminded him of home.

Obviously this one is from Jason. And well, Damian doesn't think it was a pun on his life in Amity, more like Hood's inside joke about death but Dami will definitely leave this thing in the room at the Manor and maybe take it with him to the GZ or Amity Park.

~~~~~~~

When they gather at the festive table, Damian realizes that he has to make some kind of speech. He tries to be as brief as possible in his report.

Damian: Todd, your gift is appreciated. And I found a potential use for items that were given by others, Bruce.

Damian never called Batman his father. With Maddie and Talia, calling both moms wasn't weird, especially when Jazz explained to his biological mom that he wasn't trying to replace her. But with Wayne, it was different. Both women took care of him, they deserved this title. Wayne provided for his needs, but his core heart didn't feel like they were close. Surely there's nothing wrong if they're just Bruce and Damian? Obviously, they both don't enjoy each other's company.

Jason: So, do you like books, little demon? Damian: Sometimes reading is quite relaxing, I should point out. I'm not indifferent to Stephen King and Lovecraft. Jason: Personal recommendations? Damian: Cujo is one of my favorites. Jason: Not a common opinion, huh. Damian: It reminds me of my family. Damian tries to smile like Danny does, but Jason's twitching eye clearly indicates that he screwed it up.

~~~~Dick and Jason synchronously drop their forks as an excuse for a conference under the table.~~~~ Dick*whispers*: How's the situation? Jason*whispers back*: If the boy asks for a dog, don't be fooled. He will be happy to dance on our graves.

~~~~Cass knocks over their heads, urging them to return to their seats.~~~~

Damian: So how good you are at fading and sliding,Todd? Jason: Why did you ask? I can't, of course. Damian: Because you're dead. It seemed to me that this was a completely understandable interest. Jason: Wow, what a jerk. Damian: I wonder why your own incompetence makes me a jerk? Even my sister could do this when she wasn't dead for even a month.

Jason, for some reason, looks awkward, although he has never been embarrassed before by the idea that a girl could be stronger than him.

Jason: Your sister? How old was she when... So it's all about age. Damian rolls his eyes.

Damian: We're the same age. It seems like it was four or five years ago. To be honest, I don't remember. I wasn't around then. I'll ask Danielle the next time I go to the cemetery to visit her. Dick: I'm so sorry, Dami. Where is she buried? We can take you. Damian: There's no need. She has no grave, as there was nothing to bury. Bruce sighs loudly and covers his eyes with his hands. Damian: It's just easier to contact the afterlife in places like this, you now? Duke: We are very sorry, dude. Damian: Don't be. People come and go, and then come back if they haven't finished annoying you. There's no point in regretting the past. Her creation was not the most ethical thing but everything is going as it should. At least that's what Grandpa says. Considering that the old man is older than time, I prefer to believe him. No one plays with fate without his permission unless they want to get hit by the clock. Tim now looks like he's going to throw up and Damian hurries to move his plate closer to him. Jason: Yes, Bruce, this is definitely your son. Damian: Did I say something wrong? Dick smiles faintly at him but still doesn't find anything to say. Damian shrugs and goes back to eating asparagus. People outside of Amity are so weird.

Signal looks at Damian suspiciously as he carefully rearranges the plate of soy sausages away from himself. Did he take him for an idiot? Everyone knows that even vegetarian sausage bite and fight no worse than those with meat when they come back to life. It's not Damian's fault that he doesn't have an ectoblast with him and wants to have extra distance from the opponent.

~~~At the same time, in the walls of Wayne Manor~~~ Dani: The operation codenamed "Get Haunted Idiot" is declared open. Danny and Dan *salute*.

~~~Several Days Later~~~

Damian: So, this is Dan. Danny says we keep him as a GIW repeller. Dick: And Danny and Dan are.. Jazz: His brothers. I'm Jazz by the way. Elle and I are his sisters. Damian: I feat the criteria to participate in their name cult, so they took me. Dan, Danny, Dani and Dami. Dan *ruffles Damian's hair* : I prefer to call this biting threat Damn, to be honest. Dami: Shut up, DaNtE, they almost wrote Dark in your passport, you idiot. I can't believe I thought I missed you. Danny: Wow. Rude. Your grandpa would be disappointed. Great job, lil one.

~~~Several years later~~~

[l1tw1ck]

Simeon's Devotion

Sub!Bottom!FTM!Priest Simeon x Dom!Top!AMAB!Holy Knight Reader

Word Count: 2,410

Reverend Simeon, plagued by sinful thoughts of a certain holy knight, is suddenly struck with a high fever and abandons his God

AFAB Language Used | 2K Anniversary Request: For a Simeon Fic | [Breaking the Thermostat]

CW: Non-Con, Heavy Religious Themes, Dom/Sub, Virginity Loss, Bleeding, Size Difference, Oral Sex, Cum Swallowing, Cunnilingus, Belly Bulge, Womb Fucking, Squirting, Creampie, Kidnapping

You knock loudly against Simeon’s doors, heavily injured. You hear the sound of shuffling and see the lights turn on inside. Moments later, he opens the door for you.

Simeon calls out your name in shock. “What happened to you?!” He helps you inside.

“Ran into some demons..” You murmur, sitting down on his couch. “Can you heal me?”

“Of course!” Simeon hastily removes your clothes, leaving you in just an undershirt and boxers. You're both already used to this. “How many this time?”

“I wanna say…30?” You watch him kneel down and use his divine powers on your wounds.

“30?! Did something attract them?”

“I’m not sure. I was on patrol and everything seemed normal. The monsters looked strange too. They all looked like distorted versions of God and they were muttering things like ‘sinner’ and ‘dirty’.” 

“That's strange..”

“Yeah, I’ve never seen anything like it before.” You reach to rub your temple but Simeon quickly heals your headache. “Could I have something to eat? I know you're probably tired so something like crackers would be fine.”

“You need to eat a real meal. I don't mind cooking for you. You can sleep over too, all your clothes are washed.” Simeon finishes your last wound and stands up. It's very common for you to sleep over at Simeon’s due to exhaustion since demons usually show up on the outskirts of town and you live a bit further away. “Think you can take a shower?”

You stand up and groan, the sound making Simeon twitch. “I think so. Thanks, Simeon.”

“God must be disappointed in you. So much for being a priest.” You say, staring at Simeon. He’s wearing sexy see through lingerie and an extravagant matching sheer silk robe. His legs are spread and he’s leaning against his bed frame. His tears are glistening against his cheeks, they’re shining like glitter. “You're nothing but a dirty sinner.” You move his panties aside.

Simeon looks at you, batting his eyelashes. Another tear falls down his cheek. “You’re my god now.”

“That’s right, baby. You’re mine.” You slowly begin to ease your cock inside him. “And I’m yours.” You press your hand against his pelvis, a pretty marking appearing on it.

Simeon suddenly wakes up moaning your name with his hand stuffed in his underwear. He gasps and yanks it out. He quickly wipes his hand on his clothes and begins to pray. “Please deliver me from temptation.” He repeats the same phrase over and over but as his body begins to grow hot, his prayer becomes strange.

“Please give me [Name]’s cock–” Simeon gasps and covers his mouth. “No…Forgive me— I need his co—” He covers his mouth again. He can't talk. He attempts to pray silently but that doesn't work either. It just makes him feel even more horny.

He begins to absentmindedly remove all of his clothes, his hands moving on their own to touch his wet pussy. He leans back, eyes out of focus, and begins to touch himself but he doesn't really know how. He just rubs his folds, which feel extremely sensitive. “I’m…I’m a sinner..” He mumbles, still out of it. “And a slut.”

“Only [Name] will accept me now.” Simeon brings his hand up to his tattoo and presses on it, a wave of pleasure flowing through him. 

He stumbles out of the bed and drunkenly walks to his guest room, where you’re sleeping. Knocking didn't cross his mind as he opened the door. 

“Si- Simeon?” You ask sleepily, sitting up. “Is something wrong?” You can't tell that he's naked. You move to sit on the side of the bed and squint at him.

“Yes..” He says quietly, stepping towards you. He kneels in between your legs. “I need you.”

“What?!” You recoil. “Are you okay? Are you drunk?”

“I’m not drunk.” Simeon presses kisses along your legs down to your feet. “I’ll do anything you want, [Name]. Anything.”

“I think you need to drink some water…you're not thinking straight.” You get off of the bed. As you try to head towards the door, Simeon stops you.

“I don’t need water, I need you.” He pulls you closer, he’s somehow stronger than before, and forces you into a kiss. It doesn't take long for him to pass on his ‘fever’ to you. Heat rushes through your body as your rational thoughts dispel like bubbles. He pulls away and looks at you lovingly. 

“Simeon...” You hold his chin, speaking with a loving tone. “How beautiful.” You mumble. He moans your name breathily.

“Kneel for me.” You order. Simeon kneels once again. You pull down your shorts and boxers at the same time. His eyes widen, hearts forming in them, when he sees your thick length. The process of becoming a Holy Knight can alter someone's body in major ways but he never knew it could change by this much. “Open your mouth.” You run your fingers through his hair.

Simeon opens his mouth and lets you slide your cock inside it. His mouth is unbelievably hot. He can feel the corners of his lips stretching to fit you. The thought of you stretching his pussy open next makes him moan. He stares into your eyes as you begin to thrust. You're sure they're glowing. 

“Your mouth feels amazing.” You moan. Simeon moans as well. “‘S perfect for me..” You speed up your thrusts. He happily allows you to fuck his mouth. He closes his eyes and focuses on your voice. He’s so aroused it's becoming painful.

You tighten your grip on his hair as your thrusts become unruly and desperate. He looks at you again, this time with tears in his eyes. But the tears aren't because he’s upset. “You look so pretty when you cry.” You groan as you come inside his mouth. You slowly pull away as Simeon swallows your seed without hesitation. You're still hard and you both want more. You pick him up and slam him onto the bed. Somehow, the both of you are able to see perfectly in the dark. Maybe it has something to do with the glow in your eyes.

You spread his legs and smile at how wet he is. The marking on his lower stomach glows faintly as you physically observe his pussy with your fingers. He squirms around cutely. You kneel in between his legs, mirroring what he did earlier, and bury your face into his pussy. Simeon moans. “Yes– oh- yes~!” He sucks in a breath. “[Name]~!” It's like he's ascended to heaven. 

You drag your tongue up to his clit and gently suck on it. It quickly and unnaturally swells in your mouth. It feels like he’s stuck on the edge of an orgasm, although it feels good nonetheless. You slip a finger into his hole and then another when you realize how easily it entered him, despite his tightness. “Ooh- oh, [Name]~” Simeon squeezes your fingers tightly as you attempt to finger him. The constant flexing of his walls make it difficult to move them but you don't mind. You’re more interested in how that’ll feel when you fuck him.

He can tell he's not going to come from this. He's not sure why, it feels like there's something blocking him from doing so. “Put…put your cock inside me, please~”

You smile and move away, standing back up. “Of course, my love.” You lick your lips and line up your cock with his pussy, slowly coating your tip with his slick. He bites down on his lip and uncontrollably twitches as you begin to sink into his sopping warmth. He throws his head back and grips the bed sheets while moaning shamelessly. You're barely inside him. His entire pussy is throbbing so heavily, it's almost like a second heartbeat. Blood soon spills from your penetration. 

The true representation of his sin.

He moans your name with his enchanting voice. Your cock ‘knocks’ on his cervix and strangely enough, it seems to be allowing your entrance. Like it wants you to enter his womb. You don't think about how that should be impossible and slide further inside him. “It feels– feels so—” He gasps, squirting. His eyelashes are fluttering rapidly.

“There you go, baby. Come for me.” You rub his clit with your thumb. He writhes around, no longer squirting but his cunt’s still squeezing you like crazy. He isn't able to think about anything at all, his brain is overloaded. The outline of his tattoo is becoming a bright blue. “Good boy…keep going.” You praise him.

Simeon wants to say your name again but he is completely unable to speak.

“Let’s make up for all your years of abstaining.” You start to thrust. He slowly comes back down to earth with each thrust you make. 

“Ah–” His eyes are sparkling with tears. “You’re so big…stretching me out~” 

“That’s right, I’m making your pussy fit the shape of my cock.” You slowly rub the bulge on his stomach, fucking him at a slow pace. “Your body’s gonna remember me and only me.”

“That's– that’s all I want~” Simeon moans. “Only you~”

“So pretty…” You brush his hair out of his face. He looks like a painting. You bring your hands to his waist and slowly build up to a faster pace. He reaches for you so you lean in. He wraps his arms around you.

“I love you.” He says in a shaky tone.

“I love you too.” You look into his eyes. For a brief moment, he realizes this isn't the real you, then he brushes it off. He feels strange. “My sweet Simeon.” You kiss him. The bed starts rocking due to your quickened thrusts. You separate from the kiss, some saliva dripping down his lip.

He looks down and notices the marking on his womb is glowing and the same color as his eyes. His desire has been satisfied. It’s all over. He looks up at you, suddenly shaking like a scared rabbit. The artificial light flickers out like a used lightbulb. He can't see you clearly anymore. The only lights are the glow in your eyes and the faint moonlight. “[Name]?” He asks.

“Hm?”

You're still…you’re not aware like he is. He suddenly feels disgusting. He forced you into this. Even if he wasn't completely conscious. He should tell you to stop, but he doesn't want to. Is it so wrong to want a little more? “I…I-” He stutters. “Come- come inside~” If he can't have you, maybe he can have a part of you.

You kiss his cheek. “Of course.” You come inside of him only moments later. It feels like he forced it out of you. You look at him with an exhausted but happy expression before passing out on top of him. He doesn't try to move you.

You slowly wake up. You look around the room and notice a stain on the floor that you didn't notice before. And your bedsheets seem to be different too. You also feel a little strange. Refreshed, but strange. You get up and leave the guest room. You can smell coffee so you go down to the kitchen. “You're up pretty early. Don't you usually sleep in on Tuesdays?”

Simeon shrugs, not looking at you. “I felt like getting up early today.”

“Well, I’m not doing anything today. Maybe I’ll make breakfast this time?”

“It's okay. I’ll make it.”

“If you insist.” You know you can't convince him otherwise. “I wanna do something for you though. You deserve a gift.”

“Protecting my town is more than enough.”

“You’ll never change, huh?” You chuckle. “You know, the bed sheets look different from last night. Am I crazy?”

Simeon breaks the mug in his hand. You shoot up from your chair and rush over to him.

“I- I’m okay.” Simeon heals himself. “There wasn't anything in it yet.” 

“Good. You…seem weird today.” You notice he's not making eye contact with you.

“I..” He presses his forehead onto your chest and frowns, tears forming in his eyes. “I did something horrible last night.”

“What do you mean?” You bring him into a hug and gently rub his back to comfort him.

“Please…please don't hate me.”

“How could I hate you?”

“Last night…something strange came over me. I wasn't fully in control of myself and I forced you to…to..” He begins to sob.

“Simeon?” You ask, concerned.

“I forced you to have intercourse with me!” He blurts out, pulling away from you. He turns around and doesn't look at you.

You pause. “It must’ve been the work of a demon. It's okay, it's not your fault. It wasn't my ‘first time’ but…was it yours?”

Simeon’s eyes widen. “That wasn't your first?”

“No.”

He bites down on his nail. “When?”

“Um…maybe a decade ago?”

“Before you became a knight? And you haven't since then?”

“...Yes.” You assume he's uncomfortable due to his beliefs.

Simeon sighs. You were ‘reborn’ during your ceremony so you’re technically a virgin but you still have the experience. “Are you going to remain celibate?”

“I…well, I hope to find someone in the future. To marry, of course.”

“Oh.” He clenches his fist. “Do you have anyone you’re interested in?”

“I suppose I’ve caught a liking to Solomon, he—”

Simeon whips his head around. The look in his eyes is scary. “No.” He grabs your shirt. “No. You can't. You can't leave me.”

“Simeon?” You look at him in disbelief.

“I…I’m not letting you leave.”

Simeon looks at you sleeping peacefully on his bed. He isn't sure how, but he caused you to pass out and he was able to carry you here. He didn't even break a sweat. Due to a holy knight’s ability to neutralize certain forms of demon magic, Simeon is sure he isn't using that as you would've been fine if he was. But that leaves more questions to be answered.

He slides his hand down to his lower stomach and touches the glowing blue mark on his womb. It hasn't gone away. What is it? If it's not demonic then is it holy? How could this be holy?

He gently caresses your face. “I’m sorry, but I can't allow you to leave.”

You’ll be missed in the order of the holy knights but no one will worry when Simeon tells everyone he has bigger plans for you.

[ixtaek]

They were all incredibly kind.

Zelda watched them as they helped the former residents of Skyloft—moving supplies, crafting tools, teaching the patrols how to defend themselves from the dangers of the surface.

The Hero of Hyrule demonstrated how to tell if water was safe to drink. “You want water that’s moving, and ideally deep.” He grinned as he ladled out of a bucket. “It’s best to boil the water and let it cool. That will get rid of any toxins and germs that might be lingering in it.” He tried to take a sip but the water poured out faster than he expected, pouring down his front as Kukiel giggled at him.

A vision flashed through Zelda’s mind, overlaying the scene. The Hero of Hyrule gripping a sword, blood dripping down his tunic as he struggled away from a monster clawing for his face. The beast cackled as the Hero tried to swipe at them while his shield arm hung limp, shield dragging—

She blinked, Hyrule’s laughter as he dumped a spoonful of water on Kukiel as well breaking through the vision. The girl squealed and shook her head to send droplets flying.

The Hero of Twilight and Time lifted a log into place, letting the builders work to secure it in the new cabin wall. The two seemed to have a bet going about who could hold it up longer. Their arms both shook from the effort of—

A boy, barely reaching her knee, breathing heavily as he shoved his shield forward to block a blow by an undead monster. The boy lowered his defense to fumble for his sword. The monster took the blow without flinching, long teeth slavering as it unhinged its jaw and screamed—

The scene dissolved into a long bridge. A snarling boar pawed at the other end, tusks stained with blood. The monster astride its back howled a battle cry, a small child held aloft on its spear. The hero to her left gasped in horror, his blue eyes locked on the child. He spurred his steed forward, sweat dripping down his face as—

“I yield, I yield!” Twilight yelped. The wall was already secured as the hero fell back, giggling. The Hero of the Wild accepted his ten rupee bribe from Time before continuing his tickle assault on his mentor.

A mere boy staggering as the lasers hit him in the chest, the side of his head gushing blood, arms still trying to hold up a shield to protect—

“Zel?”

She turned, almost falling against Link’s chest. Sky’s eyes were soft as they traced over her face. “Are you… What’s wrong?”

“Nothing.” She tried to smile, ignoring the wetness in her eyes. “I’m fine, Link. Just a little out of sorts.”

The divine blood in her burned. Link smiled and pulled her closer, hugging gently.

Soft hands wielding a flaming sword, lighting crackling through his body. Fighting a demon that should have been slain ages ago by the gods, by— by—

“… By me…”

“What?” Link held her at arms length so he could look at her face. “Zelda, what are you talking about?”

“All of you… none of you should have had to go through what you did!” Zelda could feel the tears on her cheeks. “Hylia shouldn’t have put you through all of that. She—I—used all of you! It’s all my fault for not defeating Demise sooner, before you ever had to step in and clean up my mess!”

She pushed away. Many people were staring now, villagers and heroes alike.

Falling from the cliffs as a giant bird became a smaller and smaller speck in the sky, the screams of his sister like—

—hounds baying in the distance, knights brandishing swords as his short legs fled—

—waves of foes overwhelming their defenses, his brothers in arms falling around him, the weapons clattering as they fell from their limp hands—

—the blade his grandfather made going flying as the blow meant for Zelda hit him head on, the wind ripping at his tunic as he heard the curse strike his friend—

She couldn’t stand it. Her feet were moving before she knew where she was going.

“Zelda! Wait!”

She kept going, the visions buffering her every which way. A mask clamping—his body fracturing—a traitor’s blade in—the island fading into—the malice clinging to his—tentacles lurching forward—his own face rendered in dark—reaching for her as a tornado sucked her away—

Zelda blinked, looking up. The impassive face of the goddess stared down, without a trace of pity. Hylia. The divine protector of her people. The holy maiden. Her.

The one who had failed, who had sent them all to—

—dark magic suffocating his split mind—sparking a flame so they wouldn’t claim his blood—the magic of the woods stripping his flesh—the dark water—the endless fighting—the intrigue—the—

“Why?!” She screamed. “Why would you do it to them? Why make them suffer?! They are just boys, and you—I—we break them down and don’t even care that we do! They must hate us for—“

“Why should we hate you?”

The voice made her wince, spinning around, covering her mouth. The heroes, all of them, stood a careful distance away, Link at the head of the group. It wasn’t him who had spoken.

The Hero of Legend ambled forward, looking up at the statue. His sharp eyes scanned the goddess, and he sighed.

“I was 11 when my uncle was killed. He held my hand as he died.” He closed his eyes, grimacing. “He wasn’t killed by Hylia, or the golden three. He was killed by a wizard called Agahnim.”

“When I was 12, my best friend got turned into stone.” Four shuffled his feet. “It wasn’t Hylia who did it. It was a sorcerer named Vaati.”

“When I was 10, I was trapped in a time loop trying to stop the apocalypse.” Time ignored the whispers by the others at this admission. “It wasn’t Hylia or the goddess of time who started that disaster. It was a demon named Majora.”

“And my sister got taken by the Helmaroc King!”

“My village children were taken by Zant.”

Legend looked at her sidelong. “And guess who was behind most of those threats?”

“Ganon.” whispered Hyrule, running a finger over his gauntlets. “It’s almost always Ganon.”

“But—“ Zelda scrubbed at her face. “But it’s my fault! Why didn’t I stop Demise before he could do that to you? What sort of goddess sends children to fight her battles?”

Time snorted, moving closer to her, careful not to invade her space till she nodded weakly. “Zelda, do you think we wouldn’t have done those things?”

She blinked. “What?”

“Ya think I wouldn’t have gone after my sister? No one had to make me!” Wind grinned. “In fact, nothing would have stopped me!”

The others nodded.

“But I saw it, the terrible things you went through! Hylia watched, and you suffered!” She gestured at them all. “What you’re still suffering! This quest—“

“Sounds to me like we have a goddess literally lookin’ out for us, even now.” Twilight crossed his arms, smirking. “Probably wouldn’t have ended as good as it has without you protecting us.”

“As good as it—“

Smiling and blushing as the newly awakened princess kissed him on the cheek—gripping the rails as the new land swung into view over the horizon—watching the reflected world bloom back into life as Lorule’s Triforce was restored—hugging the children as they rode back into the village—fields of blue flowers blooming underfoot as he rode along and watched the reconstruction—the proud smile of his father as he worked with the squadron instead of going rogue—joining Zelda and Lana as they stood before the cheering troops, Hyrule free once more—Malon looking radiant as she walked down the aisle—clutching their daughter, the first Princess of the newly founded Hyrule—

Link took her hands gently. “If Hylia didn’t care, why would she—or you—have watched out for us the whole time? If you didn’t care, why would you be so upset by what we’re going through, if our own free will?” Zelda sniffled, letting him hold her. “We don’t blame you. It’s Demise’s fault, or Ganon’s. Not Hylia’s. And not yours.”

She squeezed him, looking up at the statue. Her smile was gentle, her wings spread overhead, sheltering them all. She swore she always would watch over them.

Till the very end.

[madlittlecriminal]

Could I please request Jason Todd waking up in the middle of the night to find his hero!S/O climbing through his window covered in injuries (maybe the S/O is supper shy and really only wanted to be near Jason and not have him take care of them, maybeee??)

Through the Window ⇏ Jason Todd × GN!Shy!Stubborn!Hero!Reader

Warnings: mentions of injuries, mentions of blood, one mention of his death, 'sunshine' is gender neutral and it just fit

while the gif is from Gotham Knights, it doesn't have to be Jason Todd you have in mind. there just wasn't good gifs under his tag.

He heard the sound of his window open and knew it was you; you liked to visit him after patrolling, so he was expecting you. However, he wasn't expecting to tilt his head to the side when he saw you struggle to get into the window.

"You alright there, sunshine?" He asked before walking towards the window to help you in, eyes falling on your smile that he adored; he knew you loved being called sunshine because you were the light in his life that he believed was missing.

Part of him was glad he didn't stay dead because he got to meet you.

"Yeah, I'm fine." He glared at you for your response, not satisfied at all as he knew you were lying.

"Sunshine, you know that won't fly with me." As he helps you in, he closes the window, but from the corner of his eye, he sees you stumble, making his brows furrow with concern and confusion. "What happened?" He asks before facing you again.

You shake your head. "Nothing." You sat on the couch with a sharp exhale, your eyes avoiding his which he quickly noticed.

"I thought we promised we wouldn't-" Jason cut himself off as he saw the dark stain on your red top from your suit. "Sunshine, what happened?!" Concern filled his voice as he rushed towards you.

"Jay, I'm fine, really. It's just a cut."

"A cut?!" He shakes his head and sighs. "That's definitely not just a cut. Tell me what happened and let me patch you up, okay?"

"It's fine, seriously."

He grumbles at your response before crossing his arms. "You have a swollen eye, a 'cut' on your side and probably more injuries that I can't see and you expect me to just stand here and do absolutely nothing about it? Are you out of your mind?" He raises his brows while waiting for you to respond.

"Maybe I just want to be held by you..." your voice was a bit softer as you look down at your lap, causing your boyfriend to sigh.

Jason hands you the kit and kisses the top of your head. "Do me a favor and tend to your so called cut and then I'll hold you as gently and for as long as you want. Deal?"

You grab the kit and rush to the bathroom, making Jason chuckle before he went to his bedroom to wait for you.

A few minutes later, you leave the bathroom and head to Jason's room where he waited for you, his arms opened wide and making you smile. You get in the bed, letting him wrap his arms around you and holding you close to him.

It didn't matter if you were taller or shorter than him, he enjoyed holding you. It was even better when he felt you relax into him; he felt like a teddy bear whenever you nuzzled into him like you did now.

"This conversation isn't over. We're still talking about this in the morning." He says softly while tracing shapes on your back.

"Mhm." You hum as you feel yourself drift in his warmth.

[brokenpieces-72]

Could I request a Gotham Knights request where r is the youngest knight who struggles with self-confidence and takes a hit for the knights when out on patrol due to this and they go big sibling mode?

Nice to see a request from another fandom. If I misunderstood the wording let me know, but I’m assuming the reader takes a hit for the knight and the knight goes big sibling mode.

Squire

You’re the youngest, the smallest, and the easiest to be tossed around. You have good instincts where it counts but you’re not always sure of yourself. During the day, you struggle with standing up for yourself, because sometimes you think they’re right. It’s started to affect your night life a little, putting doubt in your mind which affects your performance. This behaviour doesn’t go unnoticed.

Barbara notices almost immediately, as you keep returning to the clocktower with more scrapes and bruises. She sees you training plenty, so she knows you can drop some of those goons like a bad habit. You spar with the others too. What was going on?

When the two of you are on patrol you run into some goons and at first Barbara has it taken care of. You get cornered by a couple but you have it mostly in hand. Then you see one trying to flank her. You knocked out the one you were dealing with, and was able to grab Barbara’s attacker. He had a baton of some kind but you don’t get a good look before he hits you, when you get between him and his intended target. The hit is pretty nasty, but not hospital warranted. Once the goons are dealt with, Babs gets you back to the clocktower.

By this point if you don’t tell her what’s going on she was baring you from patrol duty. You don’t say much, and you don’t often say much anyways. As she’s putting the wrappings on your arm and you’re holding an ice pack to your bruised eye you tell her you’re fine. Yeah right, she wasn’t born yesterday. You don’t know what else she wants you to say. What’s been going on lately, during the day. Well, you don’t always feel sure of yourself, because people keep saying you’re not good enough. That you’re not doing enough and still getting away with it. You aren’t meeting their expectations, and that you aren’t setting high enough goals for yourself.

Barbara lets you vent more about it, telling stories of things teachers have said, coworkers putting their tasks on you, and all the while you’re running on little sleep. There was some tears, not really sobs. Babs doesn’t need a super computer or even her glasses to see your lack of confidence.

You stepped in between her and a guy ready to take a hard swing at her, a swing that may have killed her, and you stopped it and took it. But that was just adrenaline surely. No it wasn’t. You have plenty to live for in your life, you know people care about you, and you knew deep down, that you could take the hit. That you could protect people, and the ones you love.

You’re still barred from patrol for a while to heal your injuries, but Babs goes extra sister mode and says that if you need help with any projects or homework, she will help where she can, if only to give you extra reassurance.

Tim doesn’t share the same classes with you, but he notices you in the hallways and… yeah he’s noticed you having teachers and even other students breathing down your neck for a variety of things. He’s stood up for you before, especially with that group project where you did everything, told the teacher you did, and the teacher told you it could’ve been done better. Yeah that ticked him off enough to go to the higher ups of the school. When he sees how you are at night, he can tell that stuff has been bothering you. Hell, he’s had that feeling before.

While you keeping watch, and he was hacking into a computer, a couple of guys were trying to break down the door. Tim was almost done, he just needed a couple more second-fuck! The door got blasted off, and would’ve hit Tim if you hadn’t blocked it with yourself. You have bracers on your arms, so they take most of the damage that door would have done, damn it hurts though. Focus. Take em down, then get out.

Back at the clocktower, Tim thanks you for taking the hit. The impact left some internal bruising, but it would heal in time. You tell him you should have just pulled him away from the computer. He points out, the files they got would have been destroyed instead of retrieved. Still you should have barred the door, or posted up outside the door to keep them from getting in, or- Tim cuts you off. How the hell would you have accounted for that stuff? The mission was a success, you got the files and you kicked butt in the process. If all you do is fixate on what could have been, you’ll have too many ideas running through your head to act when you need to. But what if your first idea totally sucks? Then you learn from it and try again next time.

Tim tells you that you can’t let self-confidence get in the way of a judgement call, especially in a situation like that. Did you take a hard hit? Yes. Did you get the files? Yes! It won’t be easy, but if he’ll help you with your self confidence, and if that means reminding you each time that you’re doing a good job, then so be it. Hell, he’ll text you every day before class.

Dick knows self confidence can be hard, he’s a performer. Grayson also knows what you can do. Big sibling mode is not a thing for him, it’s just default Grayson. During sparring, he notices you’ll try to flee from attacks rather than guard or dodge. It’s one thing to step back, it’s another to scurry away. There’s plenty of times where he’ll have you just plant your feet to remind you it’s only practice, the batons won’t hurt when you have guards on. Soft swing, normal swing, harder swi- you flee again.

Grayson is still concerned when you two go out, investigating a warehouse that had a few thugs. He was ready to drop down on them, but not before asking if you can handle yourself. The question leaves you with plenty of self doubt. He accounted for this ahead of time, knowing you may not be up for it. He reminds you it’s only a couple of thugs for each of you. Yeah, you can do this. No problem. There wasn’t much of a problem either, you plant your feet, and are able to avoid most hits.

Then you hear the sound of something sharp and metal. You look over and Grayson is dealing with a knife now. A skilled knife. You’re stealing glances in between blows, and knife user is giving Grayson a run for his money. Once you have your current thug knocked down you rush over, seeing Grayson get punched in the face hard. The knife comes down on a dazed Grayson but you grab it, shoving it away, so it just gives a cut to shoulder. You take the stumble from your quick intervention, to kick the guy to ground. Once Grayson recovers, he takes the guy down.

A quick call and the police are on their way, while you’re gritting your teeth. Grayson didn’t see it before, but your hands are bleeding from grabbing the knife, as is your shoulder. As soon as the cops can be heard, he has you on the bike, driving to the clock tower, being careful not to make any hard turns since you can’t have on to him very easily.

The alcohol stings and you feel pretty foolish for grabbing the knife by the blade. Thankfully it wasn’t too deep, so stitches weren’t necessary, but bandages were and that also meant no fighting for a while. Once you’re all bandaged up, Grayson asks what’s been going on lately. You kept fleeing and he noticed you flinching quite a bit during the fight. You try to act like nothing is going on, and that his issue was with you grabbing the blade, but he’s persistent. You shrug, cause you don’t know, it was all so unreal sometimes, that you’re a vigilante fighting to protect your home. Yet during the day you couldn’t fight back against the ones who kept trying to take your stuff or told you you weren’t good enough.

You’re plenty good enough. Grayson reminds you of everything you’ve been able to pull off, all the fights you’ve won, all the bad guys you’ve brought to justice, and all of the hard work you’re doing now. You’re kicking ass, so don’t stop just because not everyone knows it. You’re trying not to tear up but Grayson gives you a hug, and yep, now you’re crying. Don’t say sorry, you’re doing great. Want to watch a horrible show that you can both mock and laugh at? You pick, he’ll get snacks.

Jason had been preoccupied with a lead, so he wasn’t paying you much mind. Your shooting was his main concern, since you were his little sniper buddy, dropping bad guys from a safe place. You wanted to get into the full action though. Jason wasn’t sure, but as long as you kept yourself out of the way he would allow it. You feel useless sometimes, only watching from above. You miss criminals which means Jason has to go after them or they get away. There’s also been some criminals who decide to make rude remarks about you being some child.

Jason had his main lead cornered, giving the guy a proper beating as well. You had been down there with him among the shipping crates that covered you from view of any cameras. Jason wasn’t sure if coast was as clear as he wanted, so you went looking for any stragglers. The concerns were warranted as you found a guy perched on one of the crates, taking aim. You don’t know whether the target is the lead or Jason, you don’t care either. Without another thought you run at the guy, not bothering with your own weapon, and shout.

The wrestle for the gunman’s weapon goes poorly. Jason takes notice, but by the time he turns there’s a gunshot, and you fall back, landing hard against the concrete below. Immediately, Jason has his gun out and fires on the gunman who isn’t quick enough to retreat. Once he knocks out the lead he hurries over to your crumpled body. He’s panicked too, thinking you may have just gotten yourself killed. The wound is a graze on your hip, nasty but not fatal. You’re gasping, trying to get air back in your lungs. Jason doesn’t hesitate to get the lower part of your mask off, letting you breathe easier.

Once you’re breathing and he gets something around the wound to soak up the blood, he gets you back to the clocktower. It’s not a fun time. Jason’s bedside manner is lacking. You literally took a bullet for him, all because he let you stay on the ground. He was so stupid. You watch him patch you up, grumbling to himself. Without thinking you apologize. Jason finishes up and gives you a look of, “where did that come from”.

You shouldn’t have overstepped. This lead was important and you just made it more difficult. Not only that you put your at risk, if you had been up on the crates you would’ve been fine. Instead you caused unnecessary risk. Jason sits there listening to you feel ashamed, and then call yourself a “stupid kid” and “childish”. Fucks sake he shouldn’t have to tell you this.

You’re a Robin now, maybe not like the rest of them. Doesn’t change the fact they were all young once and took risks. Everyone starts somewhere, and when you’re the youngest you have plenty of doubts. Confidence isn’t your strongest feature, but honestly he didn’t know many others your age who had the guts to take up a rifle and fight back against all the shit on these streets. If anything he blamed himself for not noticing you were struggling to begin with. You try to deflect blame back on to yourself and he settles for it being neither of your faults.

You’re not going out for a while, not with your injuries. Honestly it’s a miracle you didn’t do more damage. For now, you need to take care of yourself, and remind yourself that you’re more badass than you give yourself credit for. First get some rest, and then tomorrow night you’ll walk around as a civillian, focusing on some self care and he’ll be close by on his patrol. You don’t need to take crazy risks, that’s his job. He’s proud of you though.

Taglist: @yourlovely-moon @kaoyamamegami @h0n3y-l3m0n05 @sans-chara @1mommyrose4ever29 @smitten-haematite-quartz @talia-the-gemini @yuki2129 @whitetiger846 @graystorm444 @chibiduck @reaperxxxxzz @danielle143 @sobbingnshtting @cringeycookies @cryingpages @dcnocap207 @reaper-chan666 @bestbookfriends @thriving-n-jiving

[oddballwriter]

Reader fangirling over moon knight not knowing it was steven/marc/Jake? 🎃

Under Your Nose

Warnings: Not much other than the moon boys lying to you and keeping a secret from you. Also the idea of walking alone at night while drunk. 

Author’s Snip: I am so sorry, I literally forgot that this was in my inbox. Sorry for the long wait.

I’ll shut up now. Enjoy! And don’t be afraid to request.

Word Count: 764

They found it kind of funny. In a sense. You had no idea that the vigilante that you've been fixating on is actually your boyfriends. You didn't live with them so you wouldn't know that them leaving for something was actually them going on a mission. It also kept you from connecting the dots that whenever they leave, Moon Knight's out and about.

They liked to hear your praise. In a way, you not knowing that it's them made your positive comments more genuine because, to you, Moon Knight was just a crime fighter that you would hear about, and so the influence of them being your boyfriends didn't make way for a bias. There were, however, sometimes there were cases where they barely managed to keep the secret.

One night, there was a gang that the boys had to take care of that put up more of a fight than they thought they would and left the system sore from having to fight back and defend. When the next day came, Steven, who was fronting at the time, decided to pay you a visit. But you were able to tell that he was stiff. When you asked, Steven threw the explanation that Jake was fronting last night and he had done an intense workout. You took it and so it was left at that. "Well, then how about we lay down and watch something so you can feel better, yeah?" you recommend. Steven just nodded with a smile,

Next came the time that you had gone out with friends to a bar and had more drinks than you usually do. You decided to walk to the boys' flat since you were not sober and didn't have a ride, and it was closer to the bar than your place. Maybe you should have texted them as a heads-up to your sudden arrival, but by the time you thought of that you were already going up in the elevator.

When you knocked, there wasn't an answer. Maybe they were asleep, it was pretty late after all. After remembering that they had given you a spare key, you unlock it and let yourself in, trying to be as quiet as you can. But looking around, no one was even home. You figured that maybe Jake was cabbing around town or Marc was on a late-night walk. With that idea in mind, you shot them a text telling them that you were at their place and why before taking a quick shower. changing into some clothes you had there, and promptly falling asleep in their bed.

Marc was there in the morning making you some breakfast. He of course, just confirmed that he was out for a stroll around the block because he couldn't sleep, even though he was patrolling. If anything he seemed more concerned that you walked there alone drunk in the dead of night. "I'm fine. It was just a ten-minute walk here." you shrug off. "Still, I don't like the idea of you walking alone like that when it's dark out." Marc said. "I'm surprised we didn't run into each other to be honest." you remark.

And then there was Jake. He had to deal with getting information out of someone and he figured that the best way was the old 'talk in a chair' way. But as it turns out, that guy was more of a hassle than he thought too. He put up a good fight and actually got him good with a punch to the face that damaged his nose. But they always, lose when it's Jake so he got his way in the end. But when you came over the next day, again, you say the bandage and got worried. "It's nothing, beba. I had this guy in my cab. He was drunk off his ass and being a pain. When I looked at him to tell him to knock it off he socked me in the nose." Jake lied. He could still see the concern on your face as to gently touched his bandage. "I'll be fine." he said as he kissed you on the forehead.

It's not that the boys want to keep lying to you. If anything all three hate it. But they feel this air of worry when thinking about you knowing too. They know it's dumb. And they know that they can't keep up the secret for long since they want you to be in their lives. But they just need to think of how to bring it up to you at some point.

[loafyall]

I feel like making more angst today (but it has comfort don't worry)

Same scenario, different observers.

Yanqing is told to go on a patrol with another cloud knight, in the stargazer Navilia. (Sry if I got the spelling wrong)

The cloud knight seemed to have bad intentions with the young boy's youth and naiveness.

Everything was fine until the cloud knight and yanqing came to some secluded part of the area, And that's when the knight takes his move

He manages to pin Yanqing to one of the walls, Easily putting a hand on his hands and causing him to drop his sword, Yanqing wasn't on great terms with strength, The cloud knight however had better strength than him.

The cloud knight had worse ideas to r. Yanqing, while he can only helplessly call for help, but who cares? No one will hear him especially in this area.

Well, accept for one person.

1. caelus

He's probably defeating some abominations around and getting materials or just- yea he's just roaming around and wondering there is no trashcans in Xianzhou (sad)

That's until he hears some screaming and yelling to 'stop' or 'help' but becoming muffled.

He recognised it.

It was yanqing.

He was around the area? What happened? Did he run into a bigger enemy?

That's when he came near and saw

That the cloud knight was in the process of trying to remove Yanqing's clothes, Tho the knight kept on getting hit by Yanqing's legs, The cloud knight was sure trying to SA Him.

Caelus just launched himself and his bat and litterally bonked the knights face, causing the cloud knight to fall down immediately and probably faint.

Yanqing is not so relieved yet relieved, He takes caelus back to the inns, And thanks him so much and tries to do something for caelus but caelus just refuses.

2. Yunli

Now, Yunli just in the area to fight some abominations she finds randomly before she hears screams, At first, she thinks it's Yanqing being weak but then she keeps on hearing him crying? And telling whoever he was telling to 'stop'.

She immediately knew something was up.

She rushed to that area, just to find the cloud knight trying to fuck yanqing to keep him quiet,

She just stands there before the cloud knights looks back, she's already using old metal and scaring the shit out of the knight and faints.

Yanqing feels embarassed that he is being saved by his rival and didn't fight back but the more overwhelming thing is that about how the cloud knight touched him, he didnt like it, tears just flooded out, he hated being this weak.

Yunli, who'd usually tease Yanqing and be rude to him, Didn't do it to him, Realising the goddamn pain that the knight tried to do to yanqing, She would definitely tell this to General jing yuan and her grandpa.

She managed to get Yanqing to the alchemy commision, they didn't talk the whole way, not did they wanted, Yanqing was so goddamn traumatized and didnt want to speak the whole way.

He thanked her alot, He felt weak, Yunli was somewhat proud of herself? She didn't know.

The cloud knight did file a crime for Almost killing a member but he was brutally exposed by yunli about what he was trying to do to yanqing (And trust me, Jing yuan was pissed.)

3. March 7th

March was sent to run 15 miles by the order of yanqing for training, But soon heard noises coming from a secluded area, She decided to ignore it until

She heard Yanqing's cries and beggings

Upon taking the route, she came to a horrifying sight, Yanqing was being.. She can't describe it

Honestly, she never felt alot of rage before

But that cloud knight, Trying to do the deed with yanqing? A FOURTEEN YEAR OLD KID??!

She lunged forward kicked the cloud knight and beat him up brutally.

While yanqing was frantically putting on his lose clothings and trying his best not to start crying again.

March reassured Yanqing he was safe, hugged him tight and got him back to the divine seat of foresight, Yanqing stopped crying and fell asleep by that time.

as for the cloud knight,

When jing yuan got to know the situation, he was pissed as hell (The cloud knight was never seen again)

Funfact : I wrote this at like 1 AM

Should I make a Dan heng finding Yanqing and Feixiao finding Yanqing version too? Lemme know!!

[howlingday]

new vegas au) LT. Valkire was a simple girl, she liked explosives and she hated bullies. made it pretty easy for her to decide to join up with the NCR military of course now she had to sit in the desert trying to deal with the powder gangers. to make things worse there was no fucking support from the higher ups meaning she had to handle everything solo! That was until the knight rolled unto town. The dude was strange, only spoke in old English, wore metal armor that he'd polished till it was basically a mirror. had probably the only solid steel sword she'd ever seen, not reclaimed scrap metal someone had sharpened till it could stick someone, no, an actually forged sword! and while it was hard to understand what he was saying apparently he was going to help with the powder gangers? well if he wanted to pick off a few of the patrols for her that was fine, she's surprised he even had time to do that in between his charity work with the kids of Primm, he mainly just passed through from time to time handing out sasparilla and candy while helping the community as needed after he helped them liberate it a few days ago. it's a shame, she really liked the guy. why'd all the good ones have to be gay or crazy? (give us jaune singlehandedly taking out the powder gangers in their prison-turned-fortress and nora's reaction to it pls)

Previous

"Are you fucking kidding me?"

"Whassamatter, sweetheart?" One of them shouted between gunfire. "Did your mommy not pack you a lunch?"

If Nora cared about her mother, she might have taken that as an insult. Instead, she chose to focus her anger on the lack of explosives she had. Try as she'd like, the Powder Gangers had her outnumbered ten to one, outgunned with them still having ample rounds and her with no grenade cartridges, and outwitted since she was trapped in an office above some well-protected radroaches hiding under sturdy barriers. In short; she was fucked, and it wasn't going to get good anytime soon.

"Shit, shit, what do I got?" Nora scanned the office around her for something, anything that could be used as an explosive. The closest she could find was an empty pencil shaver and some old bottle caps. Nothing volatile in the slightest, save for her temper.

And it was her temper that got her into this mess, wasn't it? She didn't like standing around in the base, doing nothing, so they sent her off to clear out a Powder Ganger base and send word to the NCR that it was clear. Too bad the base had fired a flare and sent pretty much every Ganger in the desert to come for her. She'd managed to whittle them down, killing a bunch in the first shot, but there were still too many for her. If she was lucky, they'd kill her quick.

"Just you wait, sweetheart!" One of them called up. "We'll give you exactly what those uptight pricks at the NCR never would!" Judging by the laugh they gave, her spinal chills were justified.

"Hold there, worthy adversaries!" A new voice called, and judging by his tone, he was a loony, too. One of those Caesar's guys? "Pray tell, what kingdom doth thee hail from?"

"The fuck you wanna know for, freak?"

"Don't waste your breath! Just light him up!" Gunfire roared, soon followed by screams of agony.

Nora peered outside to find the loony, all dressed up in some kinda sheet metal tougher than anything those Caesar guys had on, slice one Ganger in half like a lunatic! But he was a lunatic with a chance, since the bullets kept bouncing off him. Anyone dumb enough to get close with a slugger either had it parried or sliced in half with them. Nora'd never seen such carnage before, not even from the Deathclaw attack that stampeded her home all those years ago.

The one her mother left her behind in.

"Hail, fair maiden!" Before she could be sucked into her trauma, a voice called to her. "Are you unharmed?"

"I'm fine!" Nora called back. "Thanks for saving my bacon!"

"Oh, good! You have rations!" The idiom flew over his tin-metal head. "I only have one other question before I enter!" His voice suddenly became less friendly. It was about as dangerous as when he started slicing the gangers like meat. "ARE YOU FRIEND, OR ARE YOU FOE?"

"Dude, you just saved my ass! I think that makes us friends!"

He was quiet for a moment, then he let out a belting laugh. He lifted his helmet from his head, giving a smile to her from beneath golden locks of sweaty hair. He swiped them away, free of sweat, and stepped closer to her.

"It has been some time since anyone had answered as a friend!"

[escespace]

Merlin and Arthur but:

All is well, Camelot is great, peace, harmony, magic is allowed, the birds sing...

Then Merlin, in a moment of excitement, either because he can no longer contain his emotions or perhaps everything has been so good that he cannot imagine the worst that can happen, decides to take a leap of faith. After all, he took a risk with his magic and Arthur accepted it; perhaps he should finish revealing all his secrets in the same way.

Anyway, A day like any other after unbearable council sessions and endless document review and reorganisation of patrols. As they close the day with a warm dinner and the silence of the night, Arthur receives a handkerchief from Merlin's hands itself.

It's clean, Woodsy scent, and neatly folded. It's not one Merlin has ever used (not that Arthur would notice those details). And the only thing Arthur could think of to answer after looking at Merlin as if he had fish coming out of his ears was:

«So... Okay, yeah... I'll give it to George when I see him in the morning. I also noticed that his is a little faded»

Merlin does not correct him out of shame.

The next day, although in his new position Merlin no longer accompanies the training sessions so often, he appears when usually end to give Arthur the water and some sweets that he get from the market.

«This is great, Merlin» Arthur said as he took the bag «It's about time you put your head to work. The knights will appreciate it when they can't stand up. I plan to get them fit as I haven't had time to keep them un check recently, you get me, right?»

Merlin didn't correct him that time either.

After a few days and much thought, I wait until the end of a meeting with some leaders of magical communities who still cannot sympathize with Arthur. The meeting was not good, they still distrust the crown and that puts the king under pressure so when only the two of them remained, the tension didn't help.

«What is this?» Arthur shook the object in his hand back and forth in disbelief.

«a book»

«a book... A book, Merlin? A Magic book... Are you kidding me with this, really?! Isn't the mess we just made with this enough for you, you want to make fun of it too?!»

«Arthur, I'm not...»

«"You idiot! I really should have taught you some manners before»

«but...»

«You better get out of here before I... Ugh! AND I DON'T WANT TO SEE YOU IN WHAT REMAINS OF THE DAY, DO YOU UNDERSTAND?»

And of course, he had to throw the book, didn't he? Fortunately, it hit the door as soon as Merlin closed it behind him.

The feeling of not being able to breathe, even if he was physically breathing perfectly, and the discomfort in his nose that made him blink more than what is normal accompanied him until he reached the forest, right at the point where I used to collect herbs. And as her cheeks became wet (strange, he would definitely have to tell Gaius if the symptoms that suddenly attacked her got worse... No, no, it can't get worse, he's fine).

«Hey, Merls, I saw you walking here alone, you shouldn't be wandering around alone... Merls?»

In the royal chambers, Arthur is now a little calmer, his mind clear, and he even started reading the book Merlin brought him. Surprise! It seems he might get a couple of good ideas out of it. Traditional offerings and ceremonies of friendship. He will then tell Merlin that the book is useful... Or he will point it out indirectly... Or he will pat him on the shoulder... Something like that.

But it is Arthur we are talking about, he cannot stand the noise of his own thoughts for long, much less the silence of his bedroom, so he sends for Merlin with a guard.Instead, they bring Gwen, who seems to be the only one who was able to point out where Merlin had gone and since the guards are chickens, they preferred to let her talk to the king.

«He is not immediately available Arthur, it seems he went to pick herbs» She explains after a polite but warm exchange.

«That hasn't been one of his tasks for a long time»

«He isn't tour manservant either and so his chores may keep him away at times when you suddenly want his company»

«It's nothing like that! I am his king, he is a court sorcerer. We have matters of great priority to discuss»

«Maybe. But he didn't look good and he needs his time right now»

«Has something happened?»

«I don't know, Arthur, something happened between you two?»

Look, I won't go into details about the feelings between Arthur and Gwen because this isn't about that (and my own opinion is extensive too) but in this fic things didn't evolve between them, But everything remains friendly and as much as Arthur values having honest and assertive people on his council, Arthur made it very clear that Gwen would always have the right to treat him first as friend. However, because of Gwen's character and political wisdom she has always been careful with her words, so it is a shock that she calls him by his name when she hasn't done so for so long.

They talk a little about how things went wrong at the meeting with the new magical community and what may or may not have been a little hasty with their reactions to something Merlin did

«What did he do?»

With a bit of a struggle he tells him that Merlin bought him a book related to magic. And once that comes out of his mouth he realizes how much of an idiot he is because his behavior was out of line and he just wanted an excuse to let out his bad temper.

«It's my fault, I know. I let my pride get the better of me and Merlin ended up unfairly on the receiving end. I felt unfit, but it was something against myself»

«You will have to make amends. It's not the first time, Arthur, and once you realize your mistakes the only thing left is to correct them»

«I thought I had grown up a long time ago... It seems not»

«We all have flaws. It's not something we get rid of when we reach a certain age or realization»

A bit more chatter and finally Arthur mention something interesting

«...And it's not even the first one recently...»

«What are you talking about?»

«I don't know, I thought you would know more with all the gossip you two do. He's been so thoughtful lately, not that he isn't always, but he gives gifts here and there, he gave candy to replenish the gentlemen's energy when I take them a little further. And George a new neckerchief, can you believe it? Not that he had the courage to give it to him himself, he forced me to do it, as the girl he is. I don't imagine he gave you»

«Arthur, Why wouldn't he give George a gift himself? The candy... He also gave it through you?»

«Yes, why...»

«You know, Arthur, we gain nothing but honor from being on your council... It helps us to have that prestige to get more work, me in the forge and Merlin with the patients. Don't you find that strange now he's so giving then?»

«It's Merlin, I didn't question anything around him»

«Agh! Arthur, a favor, sweets, and then gift specifically thinking of you, something you ended up needing...»

«wha... Wait... No»

«yes»

«but...I- I have to find him»

«no!»

«yes!»

He passed her before she could delay him and thought he heard her say something about Gwaine going after Merlin but he didn't have time to waste wondering what one thing had to do with the other.After all, perhaps it would be better if he found them sooner rather than later or else they would end up dragging them out of a tavern, right?

He knew quickly where Merlin would be, it was common knowledge that even when he no longer had to go out to gather herbs himself, that place was special to him.

He arrived in time to see from a distance something that left him stuck in place.

Merlin on the floor, sitting, red face and bulging eyes but smiling at Gwaine's foolery. Gwaine, for his part, is perhaps too close to Merlin. It is a distance that is common between that pair, but surrounded by nature, one kneeling in front of the other, eye contact; one hand on Merlin's knee and the other... PASSING A FLOWER ACROSS MERLIN'S FACE?!

The burning sensation that rises through his sternum is not like a bad digestion, it is worse, it makes him almost tremble. It doesn't help that your eyes are starting to hurt, is it because of the poor lighting at that time of day?

Oh My oh My, he can't fool himself, not anymore, no never again...

«He can't even see me like that, you know? That's why he doesn't notice it»

«I noticed it, Merlin, I always notice you»

Their faces too close to each other, Arthur is brave for many things but not for that, he wouldn't do that to himself, he wouldn't see it.

And as he walked away, back to the castle, he thought that he might as well be leaving his heart on the ground where he had been paralyzed, for he could no feel more than emptiness in his chest

[silvrash-797]

Thanks to @webhead3345 for the idea!

Echoes of the past (pt 1)

Febuwhump Day 4+7: Obedience/suffering in silence

Part 2

Read on ao3

The newly dubbed Legend sat at the edge of the camp, watching anyone with a knight’s title or wearing armor or chainmail warily. Warriors, Time, Wild, Sky, Twilight…over half the group, he couldn’t bring himself to trust them. Sure, the knights of his time weren’t actively chasing him anymore, but nothing could change the fact that they had, and now the sound of chainmail triggered about a dozen fight or flight responses.

Speaking of…Legend flinched as the Hero of Warriors approached, shoving the memories of rattling chainmail, gleaming weapons, I’m just a kid I didn’t do anything wrong I swear to the side.

“You okay, Legend?” Warriors asked, face apparently full of concern, though why a knight would be concerned for him he couldn’t fathom.

“Fine,” he muttered, trying not to curl into himself. Make yourself small, hide, they’ll go away pounded through his head, but he was the Hero of Legend, the Veteran of the hero business (an average nobody, his little rabbit-heart whispered traitorously). He’d been at this for nearly a decade so why is this still an issue? Stand up straight, face your fears, they’re heroes just like you. Don’t let them know you’re suffering, you’ll never hear the end of it.

The knight touched his shoulder and Legend jerked back violently, subduing a hiss at the last moment.

Warriors froze, hand half extended. “Vet, are you sure you’re okay –”

“I said I’m fine, Captain,” Legend sneered, putting as much acid in his voice as he could manage. “I just don’t like being touched, okay?”

Warriors withdrew his hands, raising them placatingly. “Okay, Vet. I understand,” he gave a charming smile. “I’m just trying to help us all come together better so we can take on whatever called us here.”

Warriors tilted his head, eyes suddenly filled with some emotion Legend couldn’t be bothered to place. “You’d…tell us, if something was wrong, right?”

“Yeah, sure. Whatever. Just leave me alone, okay?”

The Captain's eyes narrowed – was that sincere worry? – and he frowned a bit, but relented, turning and leaving Legend with his knight-free safety bubble at last.

-----

A few weeks later, Legend was sleeping peacefully when someone roughly shook his shoulder. He groaned, slitting his eyes just a bit to see who was bothering him in the middle of the night, it’s not even his night for watch, so why…

Firelight glinted off a metal pauldron; Legend's heart nearly stopped with fright.

The figure shook him again. “Vet, come on, we need to go!” The Captain’s voice was urgent but collected.

Legend shoved Warriors’ hand from his shoulder, groaning again as he sat up. “Captain, it is the middle of the goddess-forsaken night,” he snapped, “What in Din's name is so urgent it can’t wait for morning?!”

“Twilight just returned from patrol with Wolfie. They found a horde of infected monsters, moving this way fast. We’re splitting up camp to catch them in a pincer movement.”

Legend grumbled, but started gearing up. “Who's in which group?”

“I have the most experience with hordes like this, so I’ll be taking a small group to deal the worst of the damage to the monsters,” Wars explained. “You have the most versatile arsenal while Sky's our best swordsman, so you two will be with me. Time and Twilight will help coordinate the others.”

Legend froze in the act of adjusting his belt, blood rushing from his head and fingers turning numb. Me. Alone with knights that I still don’t trust. Against a horde of infected monsters? The mere thought filled him with such panic he was afraid he’d faint.

Legend forced himself to move again, attempting to wrangle his nerves into submission, pushing past the knot in his throat to plead for a different arrangement. “Rulie has just as much versatility with his magic as I do with my items – why don’t I go with the others and you take him instead?”

The only knight in the other group was Wild, and he didn’t remember much about it. He could work past his fear of Time's armor and Twilight’s chainmail if it meant fewer trained knights to keep an eye on.

Warriors shook his head, and Legend’s hope fell. “He needs to stay with the others in case one of them gets hurt. They don’t have as much experience with large groups of monsters as we do; it has to be the three of us.”

Warriors stood, and the percussive rattling of his armor set Legend’s nerves on fire. “Let’s go,” he was using his Captain voice, the one that brooked no argument and all but demanded total obedience.

Legend hated that voice.

Resigned to his fate, Legend shoved his fears into a box deep in the confines of his mind before following Warriors and Sky into battle.

[wordsinhaled]

based on @griffonskies suggestion that merlin would be a border collie if he were a dog -

i'm imagining a canon era scenario in which merlin is experimenting with shapeshifting magic (maybe in the same stretch of time when he starts practicing transforming to and from dragoon) and he decides to try transforming himself into a border collie. the spell is meant to be time-limited so he'll turn back into himself after some reasonable period of time, like say, three hours, but the first time he tries it he gets a little overzealous and he gets stuck. the spell doesn't wear off. this is fine, he thinks, it'll wear off by nighttime. except it doesn't. (spoiler alert: it takes, like, a fortnight to wear off.)

of course this means merlin the person seems to disappear entirely from camelot, from one day to the next. at first, gaius covers for him, assuming merlin's up to his usual shenanigans ("merlin's at the tavern, sire") - but eventually, after merlin doesn't appear after a day or so, even gaius gets worried. it's the middle of winter, after all, where would merlin go? when gaius brings up his concerns to uther, the king appoints another servant to be gaius' interim assistant "until the boy is found."

arthur plays it off, but he's increasingly concerned when merlin doesn't surface to report for his duties for the second day in a row. after three days, he wants to dispatch scouts to ealdor, thinking maybe something befell hunith and merlin went home without telling him, but of course uther isn't willing to sacrifice good men to the inclement weather just on the off chance arthur's servant decided to abandon his post. so arthur's miserable missing merlin, he's worrying himself sick and not eating, he's sending the knights out on longer patrols than usual for this time of year. the knights all love merlin too, so they offer to go look for merlin themselves and find no sign of him either

and suddenly there's this dog that keeps lingering around his chambers, looking increasingly pathetic and cold. merlin didn't want gaius to know what he'd been up to, at first, so he'd been sleeping in the stables while transformed, but it's freezing, and he misses arthur, and the spell is sapping some of his strength the longer it wears on, and he gets tired of hiding, and besides, no one's going to know it's him.

arthur can't help but let the dog into his rooms. maybe he even talks to the dog. can you blame him, if the dog looks like it's listening attentively? so before he knows it he's on a tirade about how insufferable merlin is— how could he run off like that, and what if he's in danger, and arthur is going to give him extra chores when he turns up again ("i said when, you hear, because of course nothing's really happened to him, i know he'll be back any day now, and when he is he can polish all the knights' armor for a week straight, not just mine")...

and so, merlin finds out arthur's actually pining for him, because arthur starts to grudgingly confide in this strangely perceptive dog, and brush the dog's coat by the fire, and maybe give the dog nice ear scritches, and joke to the dog that it's probably smarter than his idiot servant by far—"you wouldn't run off into the wilderness in the dead of winter without telling a soul, now would you? of course not. and it wouldn't matter, would it, if i didn't find him so...—aargh."

in the end, maybe the spell finally wears off at random, and leaves merlin sprawled on the flagstones where he'd fallen asleep the night before, as a dog, on a pile of arthur's blankets. arthur wakes up and finds him like that. the dog is gone, and arthur is none the wiser, just terribly relieved merlin is back...

[dr-demi-bee]

We're at War: the Wizard and the Commander

Chapter 4

Finally edited and live! Getting into some ✨drama✨ More fluff and filth to come.

Frenemies -> Lovers ~ Royal Court AU ~ Knight x Noble

Pairing: Gale x f!Tav - NSFW Word Count: 6.5k (chap 4; total 25k) ------------------------------------------------------------------------------Summary:

The evening arrives, and with it the Baldur's Gate gala. Miri and Gale both face their own challenges attending the event, but more trouble seems to be brewing. Gortash's scheming might get in the way of their budding romance…

-----------------------Read on A03-------------------------

Miri's staring at her open wardrobe, her fist absolutely shaking with ire.

All the respite she had managed this morning had evaporated in an instant.

She had received an 'urgent' missive - the Grand Duke was demanding she attend tonight's fundraiser gala as a guest and adhere to the strict dress code accordingly.

Meaning no armor, no weapons, and no trousers.

Fucking prick.

It had taken a full hour to rearrange the stations and patrols for the evening to account for her absence. She should be in dress armor on the dais with the king. Not paraded about like an exotic piece of meat.

But Grand Duke dickhead gets the final say on his fundraiser gala - and he’s insisting Miri has to mingle with the common folk so they can see the general. ‘Humanize the face of the war.’

And she can’t afford to tell him to fuck off. These stupid fundraiser galas are critical to outfitting the soldiers and to the success of the war.

Right. Miri growls, pulling out a gown and shoes, then slamming her wardrobe shut.

***

Gale is in his own chambers across the hallway preparing for the gala.

He had just finished pulling a black shirt over his shoulders and was currently fixing his collar when he heard the commotion across the hall. Doors slamming, armor clattering.

He looks up briefly at the sound, his dark eyes widening before his brows furrow in annoyed recognition.

Always so angry.

He’s still troubled by their argument this morning. Off-kilter after a radiant evening together that led to absolutely no change in their relationship. Couldn’t she accept his help? His support?

Gale let out a frustrated sigh and muttered under his breath as he tugged on his deep blue vest and began to button it.

Gods, give me the strength to not strangle Gortash tonight, he muttered to himself.

***

Stupid shoes. Stupid dress. Stupid hair.

Miri practically slams the door of her chambers shut.

It had taken ages to fix her usually simple and fuss-free makeup into something ‘appropriate’ and to style her hair into something presentable - two braids pulling her hair away from her face while the rest cascades smooth and unbound down her back. Every time it shifts against her undercut she feels another spike of irritation.

Miri rests her forehead against her door for a moment, taking deep breaths as she tries to school her expression.

This would be fine. She's done it before. Nevermind that was decades ago... she could do this.

Just be nice. Friendly. Don’t let them under your skin.

Miri straightens her back, squares her shoulders, and smooths the deep emerald and black satin of her gown with an anxious motion. She starts striding her way down the hall - less graceful than usual with the stupid heels. Their straps at least crisscross and wrap all the way up to her knees, so it's impossible for them to fall off. Her bare legs peek out of the high slits in her gown with every purposeful step.

If he wants refined, she'll show them refined.

***

Gale hears the door across the hall slam shut as he begins to tie a purple silk ascot around his neck. His eyes widen and his shoulders tense, before a flicker of amusement flashes through his features. He lets out a brief chuckle before moving to the mirror.

Gale adjusts his shirt and waistcoat, then ties a portion of his hair into a neat bun, pulling the unruliest strands away from his face.

He then slips on his deep purple dress robes, a brilliant contrast to his black shirt and navy waistcoat, evoking the nebulas common in his casting. His fingers move quickly through the practiced motions of pulling the silk over his shoulders and making sure it fits properly around his waist.

Once finished, he pauses to admire his figure and lets out a breath of relief. Gods, finally. One more obstacle out of the way so he can finally get back to resolving this gods forsaken spat with Miri.

***

It takes Miri longer than usual to make it across the palace.

Not just because of the throngs of visitors (busybody nobles, all of them), but because she is slowed by her shoes and having to hike up her skirts to go up and down every set of stairs.

Why are there so many gods forsaken stairs?

***

As he walks through the palace, Gale tries to keep himself from growling with impatience at the guests that swarmed him every few feet. He has to remember he’s an advisor to the king, and he has to keep up appearances, no matter how impatient he gets or how inane the conversations become.

Most of them want to ask him about court, or magic, or talk about the upcoming gala. He can feel himself growing more and more irritated the more people stop him to talk about gossip or parlor tricks they mistake as substantive magic.

He just wants to get into the damn event.

If I have to answer one more question about court or the arcane, I will hex myself, he thought as he approaches the ballroom doorway.

***

Miri enters the far end of the ballroom, skirting the main entrance entirely. The fewer people she has to mingle with the better. And just because she isn’t on guard tonight, doesn’t mean she can’t take advantage of the palace layout.

She spots Grand Duke fuck face schmoozing with nobles at the far end of the ballroom almost immediately. He’s a study in gaudy opulence. Rings and baubles adorning atrocious attire. Gross.

King Ravenguard chats amiably with guests at the top of the grand staircase. His guard, Karlach, hovers close by. The tiefling notices her and shoots her an approving grin when they make eye contact. Miri makes a face in return and fights the urge to groan at her friend's obvious teasing.

She finds a spot near the bannisters overlooking the dance floor to pause and survey the room. Nothing interesting, of course. A modest string band and far too many nobles.

Already she can feel the eyes on her. Lecherous and judgmental alike.

Looking at the exposed expanses of her tattoos. Staring at her lithe but muscular frame highlighted by the form fitting gown. Wondering how an elf so small could be commander of the royal armies. Or how a wild savage could be a royal advisor.

She toys with the pendant at her throat with nervous fingers.

Somehow the plunging neckline and high leg slits in the gown make her feel more exposed than just being nude.

She would rather fight the wyvern again in this outfit than face this leering all night.

***

As Gale approached the ballroom's entrance, he caught sight of Lord Gortash with his usual crowd of admirers. Troubling sycophants. He’s never entirely sure of the man’s motives - but he cannot shake the discomfort he feels at every turn.

He quickly averts his gaze, the image of the duke's pompous expression and obsequious followers stirring a sense of irritation within him.

Gale takes a deep breath and steps through the door into the large dance hall. He’s quick to accept a goblet of wine from a passing server. Taking a sip, his eyes peer over the rim to scan the room.

His eyes quickly picking out Karlach's fiery red skin and hair amongst the sea of gowns and finery. Despite his initial annoyance, he couldn't help but feel a sense of comfort at the sight of his friend. Add to it that King Wyll Ravenguard beside her has a very amiable and charming visage - it’s a little easier to settle into the event with them present.

His eyes don’t stall for long as he scans for a different head of red hair.

***

Miri tries her best to be polite and maintain a friendly smile each time a noble greets her. Tries not to show her lupine teeth, to look sweet and unassuming. Bowing, curtseying, shaking hands only if need be. She keeps her hands together to minimize showing her sharp nails.

She knows how to play the game, as much as she abhors it. She can look sweet.

Unfortunately, that means at an event like this few respect her as Commander of the royal armies - if they even recognize her as such out of uniform.

Add to it that already a dozen too many men have asked for a dance.

"Apologies, I’m not one for dancing," she murmurs politely for the nth time, forcing a sweet close lipped smile.

Thank the gods most of them are accepting enough of this tonight.

***

Gale continues making his way through the crowded ballroom, his feet carrying him across the expansive dance floor. It’s early enough that dancing hasn’t started in earnest yet, but there’s still dozens of bodies in the way as he moves.

For the most part he ignores the chatter of the nobles around him, all too focused on finding Miri's familiar figure in the sea of bodies. Looking for the shine of her dress armor, the sleek, wine-red, braided bun a top her head.

He tries to convince himself that it’s the need to speak to her is the only thing pulling him along. The only reason he’s feeling an almost nervous flutter in his stomach.

As he passes by a small group of particularly gormless fools, he overhears their conversation.

A particularly pompous voice pierces through the din, and draws Gale's attention.

"I can't believe the lythari is here. What's a beast doing at a civilized function? May as well put lipstick on a pig."

***

"Come now, surely a beautiful thing like you can dance a waltz or two?"

The older gentleman, reeking already of alcohol and too much cologne, leans in too close.

"I can make it worth your while." He leers, making no attempt to hide the way his gaze trails her form.

Miri takes a subtle step backward as politely as she can. Does her best to look demure and gracious as she puts her hands up for a polite rebuff.

"I assure you, I am better suited to the battlefield than the ballroom," Miri responds politely, "I'm afraid I must decline."

***

As soon as Gale hears the words leave the pompous noble's mouth, he can feel a sense of rage building up inside him.

How dare he call Miri a beast?

As if she's worth any less than the rest of them! As if she’s not more to this country than any of these over-inflated, asinine, assholes!

He turns towards the men, ready to give his opinion on the matter, when his eyes catch sight of a familiar head of wine colored hair amongst the throng on the mezzanine above.

The sight of her dressed up in an elegant gown - gods, looking nearly divine - causes his breath to catch in his chest. He had expected her dress armor, which is lovely of course, if not stately, but this...

He had teased her about this very idea last night - but gods his every imagining pales in comparison to reality.

The greens and black of her silk gown are perfect with her skin, her hair, her tattoos. Her hair is down and long and the gentle styling is perfection. She is breath-taking. And he is breathless.

And he has never wanted her more in his life.

Every sane thought flees his mind at the sight of that demure little smile. Somehow in this attire she looks small and almost fragile - the mantle of the knight commander taken off for the garb of a lady.

It’s almost uncanny, really, to see Miri being sweet and courtly. But he’d be damned to deny the way it makes his heart throb.

But he can see the subtle way that smile falters. The way her eyebrows shift and her jaw clenches subtly. Tell tale signs of her ire he recognizes all too well.

His gaze shifts to follow hers, and he realizes she is surrounded by a handful of what he can only assume are annoying suitors. And Gale’s heart rate quickens with irritation once more. His feet are moving before he can think twice.

***

"Are you married, sweet thing?" A portly man drawls, leaning in far too close. Some patriar or other. His poor choice of wine sloshes unpleasantly in the cup in his hand.

"No, my Lord," Miri answers politely, "I am much too busy for a family."

"Someone should snatch you up." He chuckles at his own joke, his ruddy face full of arrogant mirth. "Get you out of that dreadful armor and into a kitchen where you belong. I'm sure you could give anyone lovely heirs -"

Don't snap. Don't fight. Be polite.

"Tell me. Would your children also be lythari, sweetness?"

Don't fight. Don't snap.

***

Gale feels his blood rushing through his veins as his heart thrums an angry rhythm. He can feel his cheeks grow heated with anger as he watches the pompous noble's eyes travel up and down Miri's body - without a single attempt at subtlety! Brazenly, openly leering at her. The pig!

When he’s close enough to hear what the man has the utter gall to say to her it sets his blood boiling. The words that leave his mouth are little better than an insult, fragrantly disrespecting everything Miri has accomplished.

The man is damn near begging to be cursed.

Gale quickly closes the distance to Miri’s side, his face a dark scowl. His fists are clenched against the urge to turn the man to a pile of ash. He stops right next to Miri as the noble asks another inane question, turning the full force of his glare onto the pompous man.

"That's enough," he says firmly, his voice cutting through the conversation with irritation. "What sort of arrogant fool are you to speak a lady, much less Commander Adahlen’i, in such a manner?"

Miri startles, looking up to see Gale standing beside her. He looks rather dashing in his formal wear... Colors not unlike the magic he often employs. Almost like...space. And something about the way he’s pulled his hair, lightly streaked with gray, away from his face, neatly trimmed his beard, and glowers like a force to be reckoned with has her stomach doing a little flip.

The noble doesn't wither away from Gale's ire - instead he only grows more heated.

"That's no business of yours, lad," he gruffs, puffing up his portly chest, "I have waited my due to speak to the lady, as I have every right to!"

Gale's anger only grows with every syllable the patriar drunkenly butchers, and his glare darkens with each word that leaves his putrid mouth. The audacity of this man! He had waited a mere moment to speak to Miri - if one could even call that tripe 'speaking' at all. It’s obvious he has no sense of decency or respect.

"Every right?" Gale's voice was like iron, cold and hard. "You don't have the right to breathe the same air as her, let alone speak to her."

"Gale," Miri warns softly.

Gale turns his sharp gaze to her, his dark eyes meeting hers with a mixture of irritation and concern. He can sense her unease - the subtle way she is trying to deflate the situation before it could escalate further. Trying to downplay this insult. Accepting the bullshit foisted upon her. Again!

"You should watch your tone, wizard," the noble huffs in the opening, his ruddy face darkening, "I am a very important member of the Gate's nobility, here as a guest. And I have right to speak to her!"

He turns back to the noble, his glare hardening further as he met the man's eyes.

"You have as much right to speak to her as the dirt beneath her feet. She's the Knight Commander, one of the most well-decorated in the history of Baldur's Gate. What have you done to earn the right to speak to her at all?"

The man scoffs indignantly. "She's a lycanthrope and a beast! She should be gratified to receive any attention at all!"

Gale's eyes narrow with anger and he sneers. Magic crackles beneath his skin and in the air around him, barely contained.

"How dare you!" he snaps, his voice rising with fury, "How dare you speak of her in such a manner! She's not just some common beast! She leads men into battle and brings them back with little loss of life. Protecting everything that keeps you in your lavish positions! And you have the gall - the gall - to call her an animal? You should be grateful to have her attention, much less her time!"

"I never!" The patriar huffs back. "Clearly she's not worth my time - nothing more than a common brute that would take entirely too much effort."

The noble huffs and puffs and turns on his heel, muttering more under his breath as he goes. But Miri can’t even see him. Can’t tear her eyes away from Gale. She’s hardly ever seen his ire directed at anyone but her.

‘She’s not just some common beast!’

Her heart gives a desperate lurch and her stomach seems to have taken flight. The boy who once got under her skin, following her about the palace - clearly gone, and in his place a man.

Gale's eyes burn with rage as he watches the pompous fool of a noble’s retreating back, his fists clenching at his sides. How dare he! How dare he speak to Miri in such a demeaning, disrespectful manner! And call her a common beast, no less? She's the Commander of the Royal Army, not some creature to be mocked and ridiculed.

Miri sighs gently, clearing her thoughts and as she sets a hand on Gale’s forearm gently. As he felt Miri's hand touch his forearm, Gale felt something in his chest tighten. He turned to look at her, his eyes meeting hers and searching her expression for a moment.

"Thank you," she murmurs softly. "Though I fear if you want to fight every noble accosting me this evening you’ll find yourself quite exhausted."

"I can handle a few pompous fools, Miri.” He lets out a slow breath, shaking his head slightly. “But I can't handle hearing them insulting you. Not even for a moment."

"These weren't even the clever insults," she smirks slightly. Softly reassuring, she goes on, "I can handle it, Gale. It's nothing I haven't heard before."

Her hand gently squeezes his arm before retreating to her side once more. Even through the layers he could feel the heat of her palm - and without it he feels almost cold.

He then shakes his head slightly, a soft chuckle leaving his lips.

"They may not have been clever, but they were still insulting you. And that's something I can't tolerate."

Miri shakes her head with a soft laugh, making her long hair away around her shoulders.

"Mm. Then you are in for a rather unpleasant evening," she returns with a smile.

Gale's dark eyes soften as he looks down at Miri, his gaze roaming over her visage - wine dark hair, freckled skin and delicately pointed ears. Stunning green eyes. And the warmth of her smile is enough to temper the flames of his ire.

At least for now.

Miri shifts to lean over the banister again, chin in hand, watching as a dance starts and guests start to twirl about in an organized riot of colors on the dancefloor below.

He can't help but admire how beautiful she looks in her gown, the silk fabric clinging to her slender, muscular frame. The back of her gown is made up of a tasteful lace cutout that elegantly covers the worst of her scars. It’s a peculiar duality of rugged and delicate that he can’t help but be drawn to.

Gale leans against the banister beside her, his eyes watching the dancers swirl about the floor. After a few moments, he turns his gaze back to Miri, his dark eyes roaming over her once more.

"You look beautiful tonight," he says softly, a small smile gracing his lips.

"I clean up alright," she retorts playfully. She eyes him sidelong. "You look rather dashing."

Gale's small smile widens at her remark, his eyes gleaming with amusement.

"I do try my best," he says with a chuckle. He then turns his gaze back to the dance floor, his expression turning thoughtful as he watches the couples move about.

"Why don't you dance?" he asks, his voice soft and curious.

"I don't know how," she answers simply. Then with an irritated huff, "Not to mention these shoes are a bloody hazard."

Gale lets out a soft laugh, his dark eyes looking down to her feet. "Well, I can't say that they're not," he murmurs, amused. His gaze lingers on her delicate ankles and the way the straps weave their way up her calf. He feels the urge to reach out and touch her, to wrap his fingers around her slender legs...

He shakes his head, trying to push the thought away. Instead, he turns his eyes back to hers, a small smile on his lips.

"Would you like me to teach you? I know a thing or two about dancing."

"And take away my only reasonable excuse to say 'no'?" Miri gives him a playfully withering look. "No thank you."

Gale chuckles once more, a mischievous gleam in his eye.

"You're no fun," he teases, a small smirk forming on his lips. He takes a step closer, his body pressing slightly against her. He can feel the heat of her body, and he has to fight the urge to reach out and touch her once more.

How badly he wants to wrap his arms around her slender waist, to pull her against him and feel her skin against his own. What he wouldn’t give to repeat last night...

"No, I'm not," she shoots back with a wry smile. Miri wouldn’t dare make a spectacle - or rather, a fool- of them both with such an endeavor. She turns her eyes back to the dancefloor as the music crescendos. "I'm sure there are plenty of lovely nobles seeking out your attention."

Gale's smile turns into a frown at her words, his heart aching at the idea of other nobles speaking to her - preening about like peacocks. He doesn't want anyone else's eyes on her, doesn't want anyone else to appreciate her beauty. He wants her to be his.

He reaches out and takes her hand in his, his long fingers wrapping around her slender ones. She looks surprised when her gaze flits from their hands to his face. Brown eyes etched with a deep longing pray for green eyes to see the depths of his feelings.

"I would rather you seek out my attention," he says softly, his voice earnest and laced with a hint of pleading.

She arches a soft brow at him. Surely he doesn’t mean that? Gale could have anyone he wanted - he’s handsome, charming, clever. Not to mention his position at court. There could not be a more prized bachelor.

But her eyes glance pointedly towards the king and then to the stupid grand duke. And she gently pulls her hand back from his. They can’t afford such a dalliance. Not when either one of them could be political leverage.

"Always so greedy," she murmurs, soft enough to be for his ears only.

Gale can't help the color that rises in his cheeks at her teasing remarks. The reminder of last time she called him that has his stomach swooping.

But his heart clenches slightly at the truth Of Miri’s words.

He is greedy . He wants her all to himself. Wants her to be his. The thought of her flirting with nobles and other courtiers, of her being with anyone other than himself, makes his stomach roil and his chest tighten with jealousy.

Undeterred, he reaches out again, gently taking her hand back in his. He raises it to his lips and presses a tender kiss to her knuckles, his lips lingering.

Miri tries to ignore the way his gentle affections and the possessive look in his eyes makes her heart stutter and her stomach clench.

"Gale," she warns.

He can see her reaction, the soft blush and the way her lips part - he can see the way his touch affects her. It makes him feel victorious. More accomplished than any spell. His dark eyes gleam with triumph as he presses another gentle kiss to her knuckles, his voice dropping to a low whisper.

"What?" A small smirk tugs at the corners of his mouth.

They can't do this. It breaks so many regulations - not to mention they're in full view of the entire court. And that fucking smirk again!

Miri frowns at him. "You know what."

Gale's smirk widens into a cocky grin, his dark eyes gleaming with mischief. He loves the way she reacts to him, just by touching her gently. He knows he shouldn't. They shouldn’t. But he can't help it, he can't stop himself from wanting to be close to her. Wanting her.

He leans in a little closer, to murmur darkly in her ear. "I think I need a little reminder."

Miri growls softly and steps back. She can’t stand this torment. Shouldn’t have indulged in him yesterday. Should’ve kept him at arms length. Stop being sweet. Stop wanting me.

"Don't."

The look she gives him sends a jolt of electricity down his spine, desire pooling low in his belly. He can't help the way his body reacts to her, can't help the way his heart hammers in his chest or the way his breathing quickens. He wants her so badly it hurts, and he can't hide it anymore.

"Oh?" he purrs, taking another step forward, closing the distance between them once more. "And what if I don't listen? What are you going to do, Commander?"

"Dammit, Gale," she breathes, putting some space between them again- fighting against the way her own body pleads for her to stay pressed up against him. "We can't-"

"Commander Adahlen'i," a dark, greasy voice intrudes, "What a pleasure to see you finally looking respectable!"

Miri’s jaw clenches shut. She turns with simmering irritation to find the Grand Duke's insufferable, smug face.

Gale’s shoulders tense with anger once more. He was finally making headway. He could see it in her eyes. But with this pompous fool butting in, he fears he may have lost his chance for the evening. Gortash is going to spoil her good mood entirely, and he wants to cast a fireball right into the man's smug face to teach him a lesson in grace. But he knows he can't, not without causing a scene and a dozen more political ramifications. So instead his fists clench at his sides.

"Lord Gortash," Miri greets icily.

"I must say, what a true delight it is to see you out of all that pesky armor." He grins at her. "I'm honestly a bit surprised you would heed my instructions. But the results are stunning."

Gale fights back a scoff. How dare he try to take credit for Miri's beauty? As if he were some sort of benefactor that’s done her a favor ‘instructing‘ her to wear a gown. Absurd.

Miri refuses to rise to his obvious bait. Her poise never wavers, back straight and shoulders square.

"Consider it a show of respect, Lord Gortash," she returns coolly. Not that he would know the meaning of the word. "I am willing to tolerate such pageantry, given it does not hinder my capacity to protect His Majesty or Baldur's Gate."

Gale feels a swell of pride and admiration. Her words are strong and firm, her voice confident and unwavering as she refuses to let him belittle her or her position. And he can't help but find it incredibly attractive.

Gortash chuckles at her response, a sly smile spreading across his lips.

"Ah, but what's a little pageantry among allies?" he replies, his tone syrupy sweet as he holds up his hands in gaudy display. "And surely even you must admit, Commander, that all of this fuss and finery is a nice change of pace from the battlefield."

"We'll have to disagree on that," Miri returns, somehow managing to keep her voice even, "We all have our areas of expertise."

Gortash lets out a chuckle, his eyes gleaming with malice.

"Oh, I'm not sure I'd call slaughtering hundreds of beasts expertise, Commander," he retorts, his voice dripping with condescending mockery.

A white hot anger bubbles inside of Gale’s stomach. How dare he speak to Miri like that? How dare he belittle her accomplishments and hard work?

"Perhaps if you gave it a try, you might change your mind." Her tone maintains an air of sweet civility, but the threat is clear in her eyes despite the smile. "There's extra equipment in the barracks, should you want to visit the training yard and try your hand, my lord."

Gortash laughs again, his face contorted into a sneer. "Oh Commander, you know my talents lie elsewhere," he says, his voice dripping with arrogance. "I prefer to command from a distance."

Gale can feel his jaw clenching, his fists so tight his nails dig into his palms. It feels nearly impossible to stay silent. He wants to punch the pompous twit in the face and wipe that smug smile from his lips.

"A shame. Some exercise and time in the sun would do you some good, my lord."

Gortash chuckles at her comment, his eyes gleaming with malice. "Oh Commander, you underestimate me. I get more than enough exercise in... other areas." His eyes flick to her body, roaming over her form, and Gale nearly chokes.

"Yes, I'm sure your wrists are quite honed," she returns dryly.

"My, how crude," he retorts, his voice dripping with sarcasm. "I'm starting to wonder if perhaps you need some lessons on how to properly behave in court."

"I've no idea what you mean, my lord," Miri returns with an overly polite smile, "I only assumed that with all your time spent behind a desk you must have a strong writing hand, no?"

Gortash lets out an irritated chuckle, his ire thinly veiled. "Ah yes, of course," he responds, his voice dripping with condescension. "I'm sorry, Commander. I should have realized that someone of your... background wouldn’t understand subtlety."

The way Gortash speaks to her, the way he insults her so easily, grates on Gale’s very nerves. Gale is not a violent man - but he wants to punch this insufferable twat in the face - make him take back his barbed words and mocking taunts. He takes a step forward, his fists clenched tightly at his sides.

Miri subtly moves her foot to stop Gale's advance, pressing down on the tip of his shoe. Gale can feel his muscles clenching in frustration as Miri moves her foot to block his advance. He knows that she thinks it's for the best. He can’t start a fight, no matter what Gortash says. She’s right, of course, but it does nothing to sooth the irritation positively boiling inside of him.

Without missing a beat she replies smoothly to the duke.

"No offence taken, Lord Gortash," she replies with more obvious ire in her tone. "Please, I'd hate to monopolize your time. I'm sure there are others clamoring for your attention."

"Oh, Commander," he says with a wave of his hand, "You’re far too kind. But you are correct- there are indeed others demanding my attention."

"Then was there something you wished to discuss, my lord?"

Gortash's smile tips into a smirk as he steps closer to Miri. He leans forward to intentionally loom over her. The arrogant bastard. She knows he’s just trying to provoke her.

"Commander, I always have something to discuss with you," his voice practically oozes with smugness. "I wanted to ask if we might have a private audience to coordinate our strategies regarding the recent breach in palace security."

Gale can feel his irritation growing and his patience thinning at Gortash's smarmy tone. And the fact that he wants a private audience with Miri makes his blood boil even more. Gortash is up to no good, he’s certain.

Miri feels rage clawing at her stomach. The slimy gleam in the Duke’s eyes makes her skin crawl. She knows he's planning something. And she knows all too well he's trying to get a rise out of her now to prove a point.

She can't refuse him outright- he is the Grand Duke of Baldur's Gate, and as much as she wishes otherwise, he has a right to the request. Nor can she be seen snapping at him in front of the nobility of the Gate.

"I am unsure what more there is to discuss," Miri returns, as genially as she can manage, "But I will accommodate your request. You know where my office is."

Gortash smiles at her response, his eyes gleaming with a perverse kind of delight. But Miri keeps her expression stoic, politely neutral. Let him think he has the upper hand. The reality is he’ll be the one walking into the wolf's den.

"Excellent," he replies, his voice dripping with triumph. "I shall meet you in your office on the morrow. Make sure the guards allow me to pass."

With that, Gortash spins on his heel and begins to walk away, his smug smile still plastered on his face. She wants to snarl and show her teeth but she manages to hold back.

Gods damn him.

When the Duke is finally out of earshot Miri lets some of the tension unspool from her frame. She turns and grips onto the metal railing of the mezzanine to ground herself.

Gale watches her knuckles turn white. He can practically feel the tension radiating off her body, can tell that she's seething. He’s seen it enough times to know.

He wants to comfort her, to assure her that everything will be alright. But he knows that's a lie. Gortash is up to something - and he seem set on targeting her. That could end badly for all of them.

"I do not trust him," Miri breathes darkly.

Gale nods in agreement, his brow furrowing with concern.

"Nor do I," he replies, his voice low and tense. "That man is up to something. I can feel it."

He paces nervously alongside Miri, his eyes focused on the Grand Duke as he makes his way through the crowd.

"We need to keep an eye on him, keep a tight watch on what he's doing. We can't let him get the upper hand."

"Agreed." She loosens her grip on the metal railing, finding to her dismay that she has dented the fine metal. Of course.

Miri spots her lieutenant on guard on the edge of the ballroom floor below, her dark dress armor glinting against green skin. The lythari gives a sharp, but subtle whistle and the githyanki looks up to find her gaze.

Miri makes a series of gestures with her hands and fingers, signaling commands. Eyes on the grand duke. Until further notice. Reports every 12 hours.

Lae’zel gives a sharp nod of confirmation, and immediately strides from the floor to relay the command and begin assigning rotations.

She'll tell the king's guard to be on alert too... Miri glances towards Karlach. She’ll need to find a good time to touch base that won’t look too obvious.

Gale watches with admiration - catching only enough to know she’s relaying orders. Even in her rage, Miri can think clearly and calmly, to give directives and delegate tasks with ease. He can't help but be impressed by her leadership skills - it’s a small display of her prowess as a general.

"If anyone can handle that man- that worm," Gale says with a growl, "It's you, Commander."

"I appreciate the vote of confidence," she returns. "The challenge is in not using him to decorate my office."

Gale can't help but delight at the thought of seeing Gortash get what he deserves.

"As much as I would love to see that," he replies, a slight smile tugging at the corners of his lips, "I fear that might... complicate things."

He pauses, his eyes trailing Gortash as he moves and mingles through the crowd. At least his lack of taste makes him easy to pick out among the throng. The duke’s cloying smile spreads wide as he puts on a show for the crowd.

"Let's hope he doesn't give you a reason to lose your temper. But if he does...?" Gale trails off with a hint of mischief.

"There's a chance that's exactly what he wants," Miri replies with a resigned sigh and a shake of her head. Her sharp teeth worry at her lip briefly as she considers it. "I don't know what he's scheming, but I intend to find out. And I sure as hells don't expect his investigation into the breach to turn anything up."

Gale nods in agreement, his mind already racing with possibilities. The wizard paces back and forth, his mind working quickly to piece together the puzzle.

"My thoughts exactly," he replies. "Gortash is hiding something to be sure. We need to find out what it is, and why he's so determined to keep it hidden."

Miri's eyes follow the Duke as he strides through the ballroom, stopping occasionally to shake hands or greet attendees with that false smile. To her dismay, he then heads onto the ballroom floor to begin dancing with a well-to-do marchioness. There would be no way to read his lips as they spin about on the floor, and at this distance she can't hear him over the band clearly.

"He's up to something," Gale mutters under his breath, his eyes never wavering from Gortash's form. "We need to get closer, see what he's really up to."

"Closer where?" Miri grits. "They're in the middle of the floor."

Gale chews on his lip for a moment, lost in thought. There has to be some way to get close to Gortash, a way to eavesdrop on the dance floor. Then a sly smile spreads across his face.

"I have an idea," he says, his voice barely above a whisper.

Her eyes slide to him with an arched brow, equal parts curious and skeptical. Gale can feel his heart beginning to race with excitement as his mind works out the details. He leans in close to her, speaking in a hushed tone.

"We could dance."

[damianbugs]

steph and bruce fic recs :0?

oh anon u have made my week with this request. my month. my year in fact. bruce and stephanie is a duo that is so special to me and i am not normal about them at all, and so of course i have only the best recs to give you. they are soooo complicated, but that's what makes them so interesting and so personal. i hope you enjoy these!

STEPH AND BRUCE FIC RECS ON AO3

Permutations and Hinterlands by cabezas_de_vaca

She and Bruce are complicated (not bad complicated, not wrong complicated, just complicated, because he isn’t her father and will never be her father and yet he sort of also is) but he cares. It gets lost sometimes, under the demands of Gotham, but it’s there. And so, she just asks him. “Do you want to go to Colorado with me?” Or: Bruce, Steph, and a road trip

MY NOTES: some very heavy but very good stephanie introspection, along with a great take on her relationship with bruce. also, who doesn't love a good road trip fic?

Have I Told You About Minnie by Hinn_Raven

After you’ve known Matches Malone long enough, you get used to him telling you about his kids. Not that his kids know about it.

MY NOTES: i am physically incapable of not recommending this fic regardless of the ask. it must be shared and it must be read. a real feel good and fun fic, bruce is so silly, and steph is so fun. lovely inclusion (without actually including) the other kids too!

I Used to Be an Adventurer Like You, Then I Took an Arrow to the Knee by audreycritter

Stephanie was just on patrol and now she’s stuck somewhere, sometime, with Bruce. They bleed and bond and mostly try to keep each other alive— you know, just a Tuesday.

MY NOTES: im fairly certain i have recommended this before on here, but i have also reread it at least ten times, so who's to judge. one of my favourite time travel fics, also one of my all time favourite bruce and stephanie fics. the end is especially my favourite since it develops a specific part of their dynamic that i really treasure. must read!

we’ll have a feast of all the things we love to eat by smallzita

The story has always gone like this: Batman exists because of guilt and purpose, but mostly guilt. The story is going like this: it's four-thirty in the afternoon and Bruce Wayne is wearing a dress.

MY NOTES: girl dad bruce. baby steph. as the author notes say 'Bruce Wayne being a foster parent can be something very personal actually.' what more do you want? what more is needed??!?!

it's just a question by Magpietrove4 🔒

this one doesn't have a summary, or any tags, but it might just be one of the best stephanie introspections i've read. the conversation with bruce really ties it all together. must read!

Under Armor Over Armor by LeantheBean

"Fridays don’t always go my way but someday I hope they’ll all be fine." In which, Stephanie Brown gets ready for patrol.

MY NOTES: ohhhh this one is so special to me. imagine me sobbing crying screaming as i say this. it's so melancholic and. yearnful. a wonderful thing that connects steph and bruce is also the thing they will never talk about with each other. so good.

to brighten up even your darkest knight by Nokomis

While filing Batman’s paperwork as punishment for an unfortunate incident with the Batmobile, Steph discovers a momento from an early Cluemaster takedown.

MY NOTES: this one is sooo cute and so sweet. i love when batman is batman.

boston market by almondrose

batman & robin enjoy a mid-patrol snack.

MY NOTES: this one is also so incredibly cute. until it isn't. tears in my eyes forever. have read it so many times because it is just so real. must read!

[xerith-42]

Garrance Week Day Four! Roommates/Work

Based on this headcanon (I really need to make a whole post about this)

Another morning in the guard station. Garroth could hear Dante's faint snoring from his room as he started strapping on his own armor. Poor guy kept taking the night patrols and insisting he was fine, before sleeping through an entire day and doing it all over again. Garroth appreciated the dedication, but he missed seeing Dante being active during the day. Garroth peeked into Laurance's room, letting out a slight hum at the sight of his empty room and armor stand.

The sound of Garroth's armor clanking together as he went downstairs was always an obvious tell of when he was awake. Laurance faintly recognized it, but in his current state, it didn't matter. He still had all his senses, but he couldn't do anything. His body refused to move, and just as Garroth looked up at him, his head lulled to the side, and his eyes rolled in a similar state to the side, his view landing on some random stone in the wall.

"Laurance?" Garroth asked quietly at first. No response. His blue eyes seemed paler than usual. "Are you okay?" Silence. Silence from Laurance was always unnerving. He loved talking so much, especially around Garroth that not hearing anything was almost heartbreaking.

Garroth rushed forward, tossing his helmet aside as he put desperate hands on Laurance's shoulders. He shook Laurance a few times, trying not to get too worried. Laurance had only been back from the Nether for a short while, Garroth knew there would likely be odd changes and challenges to get through. He trusted Laurance, but this was just... Wrong.

"Laurance, what's going on?" Garroth asked, his voice started to waver. "Please, talk to me." Laurance faintly heard the sound of worry in his friends voice and responded to it. In his mind at least. His jaw went slightly slack, which only made Garroth start to panic even more. "Laurance! Wake up, please!"

"Everything alright down there?" Dante's tired voice asked from upstairs. Garroth registered that he had spoken, but all of his attention was on Laurance's blank stare.

"Laurance?" It was hearing that Garroth was about to cry that finally let Laurance get control over himself. Hearing such genuine concern made him gain enough humanity to have control over his own body again. Laurance jerked suddenly, making Garroth jump with him, but a worried smile broke across his face at the sight of his friend moving. That was progress. A sign of life returned to his eyes, but they still looked... off. "Oh thank Irene you're okay."

"Wh-What..." Laurance's sentence trailed off. Right. That. Vylad had warned him about that happening. It hadn't happened in the Nether, but of course it was now. He kept his gaze askance. "Sorry."

"Don't apologize." Garroth squeezed Laurance's shoulder, as if checking to make sure he responded to it. To ensure he was really awake, that he was actually breathing. "Would you like to talk about what just happened?"

"I-I would. If I really understood it." Laurance glanced up at the stairs where he saw Dante was peeking his head down, as if debating if he needed to intervene. "It's just a Shadow Knight thing, I think. Nothing to worry about." Garroth followed his gaze to Dante and sighed, knowing Laurance wouldn't open up as easily with someone else, especially someone new there.

"Of course. I won't pry on it. I'm grateful you're okay." Garroth stood up and gathered his helmet from the floor and his sword from the weapons rack by the door. "Take care of yourself, both of you."

Laurance never brought it up to either of them. At least not directly.

***

The next time it happened, Garroth was at least ready for it. This time it was in the tower. Laurance had been leaning against the window while keeping watch, and when Garroth left briefly, he came back to that familiar stare. It was still so discomforting to see his dear friend like this. To know that there likely wasn't anything he or Laurance could do about it. This time, Garroth reacted far more rationally.

He carefully lifted Laurance from the window and set him in the chair they had near the other window. Laurance would be a lot safer this way. And Garroth sat across from him patiently, knowing there wasn't a major threat to Phoenix Drop at the moment. Knowing he could at least relax for this moment. It might be the last time he got a moment alone with Laurance for a while.

And the realization of three nights ago that he was in love with the man in front of him may have motivated him as well. Just maybe.

Laurance came to faster than before, and when he looked up at that familiar helmet, his expression noticeably soured. Laurance placed his elbows on the table and buried his face in his hands.

"It happened again, didn't it?" Laurance groaned.

"Unfortunately, yes," Garroth replied. "Have you... Learned anything about why it happens?"

"I have some theories." Laurance moved his hands to his cheeks and rested on his palms, looking down at the table as he spoke. "It's partially because my body isn't quite dead or alive, so it has to go through stages of both. It experiences living human things like being awake and asleep. But sometimes it just, needs to be dead. And I don't have control over it." Laurance's voice was becoming shaky.

"I'm so sorry you have to go through this Laurance. I-I wish there was something I could do to help."

"What you apparently did is plenty. Just getting me to safety and waiting for me to be... back."

"I promise you're going to get through this. You're incredibly brave for what you've done, even more so for how you're handling the fallout of your sacrifice." Garroth hesitantly reached his hand across the table, and Laurance almost eagerly took it in his. He fought the urge to remove their gloves. He just wanted the assertion that his skin was warm, that he was alive again. It was the lack of control that he couldn't stand. The fact that his body just did this without his control. What happened when he lost control during a battle?

"Thank you, Garroth," Laurance finally said. "I-I wish I could give you better news."

"Irena and I both knew there would be changes that came with this. I'm ready to help a fellow guard, especially one of your caliber." Garroth ran his thumb over Laurance's knuckles. Maybe a bit too far for seemingly platonic talk between two guards, but given the way Laurance instantly mimicked the action with his own hand made it clear he didn't mind at all. It was reassuring to hear how much Garroth truly respected him in spite of the dangerous road he was traveling to continue holding onto the life he fought so hard for. In spite of the risks.

"I really appreciate it... Thank you, so much." Laurance resisted tears, instead finding the strength to stand. "I-I should get back to patrol."

"Y-Yes! We should. Good job staying on top of things."

***

After the second time, Laurance's little episodes were something Garroth and Dante both got adjusted to. Garroth was far better at calming Laurance down when he broke out of it, but Dante was able to at least physically support him if need be. It started to become another part of the routine. Sometimes when one of them switched patrols, Laurance won't have moved from his post, and they just had to jostle him out of it.

Laurance tried to hide it by wearing a helmet once. It didn't work, thanks to Garroth's paranoia and lack of care for Laurance's personal space. Laurance was only lightly irritated, and even then, it didn't feel like genuine irritation. More upset that he had been caught so quickly, but relieved that Garroth wasn't upset at him for it. Just as worried as always, which wasn't ideal.

Yet this was just another part of their routine. There was only one time this didn't happen. One time that Laurance truly despised this new form for this fact alone.

Wounded soldiers were being treated to as Irena and the lord of Scaleswind worked out their peace treaty after Nicole had been safely returned to him. Laurance went to visit Ungrith's grave, missing the days when he could return from a battle and speak to his friend. Just as Laurance laid his eyes upon the shrine, they lolled to the side with his head. As if the reminder of death was enough to finally trigger it in his body now that he wasn't in a fight or flight mode. Now that his heart wasn't pumping with adrenaline, it was barely pumping at all.

It was in this state the Garroth found him. It was in this state that Garroth knocked him out from behind without looking in his eyes. It was only after Garroth had the amulet in his hands and was about to run that he glanced down and saw that Laurance's eyes hadn't closed. They were still wide open, yet they had that painfully familiar foggy look to them. It was seeing his eyes that briefly made Garroth question what he was doing.

But he was in too deep now. He had to remind himself of what Laurance had done behind his back. What the man he loved had done with the woman he loved. How Laurance flagrantly disregarded the feelings that he knew Garroth had for Irena just to take her all for himself. He had to turn his head away from the man he once considered a friend, potentially a lover, and race off into the woods outside of Phoenix Drop.

[wraith-caller]

D/Rogier 14. - Roleswap :}}

@scrawnytreedemon here you have it!!

“I’ll be taking that, if you don’t mind.” The voice came in time with the cold edge of a blade to Darian’s neck. He stilled where he knelt before the Minor Erdtree roots, silently admonishing himself for somehow missing the presence of another person in the tomb. It wasn’t often he ran into anyone living in the catacombs, after all. 

But if one was down here, and seeking deathroot, there was likely only one explanation as to who they were. “A hunter, are you?” Darian asked, calm and neutral.

“And with you coveting my quarry,” the man answered, a curl of amusement in his tone. “What ever do you want with such a terrible thing as deathroot?”

Darian inhaled slowly, still perfectly aware of his current vulnerability. “Remove your sword from my throat, and I will tell you.”

“Toss away yours, and I’ll consider it.”

If that man wanted him dead, he could’ve done it easily within the last sixty seconds. Instead, he’d announced his presence and struck up a conversation. Darian supposed there was still always the risk of death, but where in these lands was that not true? So with slow and careful motions, he tossed aside his blade, the old but faithful greatsword he’d won off the back of a Banished Knight patrolling the perimeter of Stormveil many years ago. With the other hand, he pulled his staff from his left side, and let it join the sword among the skeletal remains littering the damp earth.

The man also moved, but kept his rapier carefully aloft. He placed himself between Darian and the discarded weapon. He was, indeed, a hunter. His gold tabard bore the seal of the Beast Clergyman, devourer of death. From behind a golden mask fashioned in a passive face, green eyes watched him keenly, still mindful of the threat a stranger could pose, especially for one of the Order, and a Tarnished to boot. Both groups had plenty of enemies. Darian didn’t count himself among them, but would this man believe that so easily?

Darian was not one to mince words, so he began as straightforwardly as he could, even if he knew what a hunter’s reaction would be to such a declaration: “I intend to study it.”

The silence was at once welcome and unnerving. It was better than being mocked or laughed at. But he could read nothing of what the other man thought. The hunters were single-minded in their destruction of the undead. This foul root was the source of all evil, and the Order mandated that it must be purged, along with the living dead who came at the beck and call of their blaspheming masters, the Mariners. So what would one of their ranks think of a lone and wandering Tarnished who sought to learn something of the aberrant plant rather than immediately destroy it?

“Well. I suppose you ought to consider yourself fortunate I didn’t lead with a blow to the head, as you appear to already have suffered enough of those.”

Mockery it was, then. Fine. It wasn’t as though he was unused to that. “I do not ask to keep you from your duty,” Darian continued. “Only that you afford me some time with it. I have been searching for months. And I would share whatever I learn of it.”

“Allow me to share what I’ve learned of it first,” the man answered, tone light and airy, as if they were old friends picking up the thread of a past conversation. “First, it seeks the heart. It’s the pulsing, they say. It can’t stand the sound. Not unlike the Mad Pumpkinheads driven to insanity by the buzzing of flies over carrion. The victim is pierced through the chest at great speed, far too quickly to react. From there, they’re torn away from the earth, a weed being plucked by a cruel, capricious child. It feeds on your lifeblood, but it isn’t a wholly ungracious guest - it’s delighted to give as much as it takes, only what it gives is maggots and thorns like razors. If you’re lucky, you die then and there, and if you aren’t, you might live in agony for a few weeks more, left helpless as you rot, mind and body alike. And for the grand finale, one day, you will fall dead, only to soon rise back up, a hideous, empty shell who knows nothing of the man they once were, the life they once lived, or what it means to be a person. All you know is that maddening beat of the hearts of the living, and how very badly you need to make it stop.”

Darian said nothing, because none of it was wrong. But that didn’t necessarily mean it was all right.

The hunter cocked his head, then asked, “Did I miss anything?”

“Why?” Darian answered.

There was a brief laugh. “You wanted to learn of it.”

Darian shook his head. “You misunderstand me. Why does it exist?”

It quieted the man for a moment. Because if the Golden Order did have an answer, they hadn’t shared it. And if no one sought the answer to that, how could they ever hope to stop it from spreading? “And you think you will be the one to answer that?”

He shrugged. “No. But I may try. It is all one can do to set a world so crooked as this to rights.”

The man considered him, and then sheathed his rapier, the meager ghostflame in the tomb reflecting in the gold, twining vines of the intricate handguard. He said nothing at first, his focus on the deathroot as he excised it from the Minor Erdtree roots. Darian stood and watched, a part of him wondering if he would have died just the way this man outlined if he had tried to cut the thing out himself. He may have lost this specimen, but he’d chalk it up as a lesson to have more awareness. And he was getting a damned good demonstration in extraction. He tried not to think of the months of tracking and searching it’d taken him to find this root, and began instead formulating his next investigation.

“Three days,” the man said finally, still working at the root. “From here to the Sanctum in Caelid, if you know of it. That is how long you get. And I keep it with me while I sleep, so don’t bother trying to make off like a bandit in the night.”

Surprise clouded his mind, preventing him from responding at first. Had he truly heard that? A hunter, inviting him not only to travel alongside him for a few days, but permitting him to study the deathroot? “That will work,” Darian dredged up eventually, lest his silence be taken for refusal or disdain. It was more than he could have hoped for.

“Good. Rogier’s the name. A hunter of the dead, as you might have guessed.” In lieu of a handshake, the man tipped his head in a nod. 

“I’m known as D,” Darian answered. “I research Those Who Live in Death, and the deathroot.” He swept up his sword, and returned it to its sheath at his side, his staff to the other.

“Well then,” Rogier said, wrapping the deathroot carefully in cloth. “Owing to our duties shared, I suppose we’re something of comrades-in-arms. For at least a little while.”

Darian nodded, able to accept that. 

“Shall we?” Rogier asked, gesturing to the door of the tomb. One led and the other followed, well beyond their agreed-upon three days. Though, that was hardly an uncommon fate for two strangers.