#a real life goddess go argue with the wall

[thefrsers]

ANGELA BASSETT

-DOLCE & GABBANA ALTA MODA (PHOTO. BY BRANDON ALMENGO)

[twoidiotwriters1]

Almighty (Leo Valdez xFem!Oc)

A/N: Almost posted the wrong chapter lmao -Danny Words: 2,207 Series' Masterlist Previous Chapter // Next Chapter Listen to: 'Fix Me Up' -by Fin Argus & Sabrina Carpenter

III: I Have a Resting Bitch Face but I'm Far From Rested

When Annabeth and Percy aren't cuddly on the fire escape, Ara goes there to think. And that's what she does the moment they come back from the quest, she doesn't overwhelm herself with plans or ideas for the next part of the mission, this is Percy's quest, after all, she's just making sure he survives it.

Percy climbs into the fire escape and sits down, handing her a blue cookie—a peace offering. Ara eats half of it in one huge bite. "I was terrible."

Percy sighs. "You were eight, Birdy. I don't hold it against you."

"Bet you hadn't missed that, huh?" She says with bitter humor.

"What do you mean?"

"The way I acted today," she explains. "That's how I used to be when we were kids. You, dragging me through every crisis, and me crying nonstop. I couldn't keep it together."

He shrugs. "I didn't hate having her back, she's adorable."

Ara looks away in annoyance. "I'm cranky, Nemo. Don't talk to me."

"Well, when can I?" He asks in an exasperation. "You're always cranky. You know you can't fool me, right? I know you're not okay."

She shakes her head. "Listen... Hebe's place messed me up. I don't wanna talk about it, can we please just..."

He crosses his arms. "Look, you're crazy strong and that will take you to great places in life, there's no doubt about it. I'll be there, backing you up... But right now, you gotta get in the right mindset. This isn't camp, here you're just my sister."

She sulks. "I'm trying my best, Percy. I go on missions, I work on bettering the camp, and it doesn't work... It's not about not knowing the difference between home and camp, I... I miss him no matter where I'm standing." At her admittance, Ara stuffs her mouth with the last half of the cookie. 

Percy leans against the brick wall and sighs. "I know. It stings that no one can help with that when you do so much for all of us, but overworking when you're awake and then sleeping the rest of your time won't fix anything. Is this how you've always made things work?"

"No," she responds hoarsely. "But all this time I thought I'd built my own path, without knowing that I was destined to it since I was born. What kind of merit is in that?"

"None of that," he frowns. "You're in a bad mood because of Leo, fine. That's understandable. But you won't question your power. You always come through. You're the hero of our time, Birdy."

"Well, that's exactly the problem," Ara insists. "I—"

"Hey," their mother's voice cuts through their conversation.

"You need a hand?" Percy asks promptly when Sally starts to climb in.

"I'm fine," she sits between them. "It just looked like you two could use some motherly company." Her adoptive mother pulls her in gently, running her fingers through Ara's choppy hair. 

Sally Jackson isn't Ara's real mother, but Aphrodite isn't Sally Jackson. Every time Ara interacts with the goddess, it feels like the lady thinks Ara's fine simply because she's young, pretty, and in love. Sally knows Ara is far from okay because she's young, pretty, in love, and isolated.

Percy eases his mother into the conversation. "What was I like when I was little?"

"Why do you ask?"

"We turned eight years old today." 

Percy explains their quest at Heebie Jeebies. They don't tend to be explicit when telling their mother about their adventures, but this time, he is. "You got through it," Sally says, sounding surprisingly calm. "You always do."

"I guess..." Percy replies with a tense voice. "But it was like all our progress, all those years of getting older and learning how to survive... Hebe took it away with a snap of her fingers. I was a helpless little kid again."

Ara nods while still holding onto her mother. "You two are a lot of things, but helpless isn't one of them," she holds the boy's shoulder. "When you were little... whenever you got scared, you might back away for a second, but then you would march right up to whatever was scaring you. You'd stare it down until it went away, or until you understood it. Thinking about you as a toddler makes me feel..."

"Sick to your stomach?"

"It makes me feel hopeful," Sally chuckles. "You're still moving forward. You've grown into a fine young man—and young lady. I'm proud of you two. It's also okay to doubt yourself," their mom continues, patting the girl's head. "That's completely normal."

"Even for demigods?"

"Especially for them." Sally hugs Percy with her free arm, kissing his temple. "Also, you need to wash the dishes."

Percy laughs. "All that buttering up just so we'll do our chores?"

"Not just. Now give me a hand, would you? Sitting down is easy. Getting up, not so much."

Ara talks before Percy can leave the room. "You got Algebra homework, right?"

He looks at her intrigued. "Yeah, what about it?"

"I want to join Goode's cheer squad."

Percy raises his brows in surprise. "That's cool. What's it got to do with my homework, though?"

"I'll help you with Algebra if you help me practice."

"Do I have to dance? I already humiliated myself enough for a day."

"No, just check I don't skip parts of the routine. I've got a video you can watch, so you can see the difference. Just twenty minutes every day for the rest of the week. Please?"

Percy grins. "You'll do my Algebra homework in exchange? Since when you're good at maths?"

"I said help—and Leo forced me to be better so I could help him on the ship, and he was a great teacher," She smiles a bit. "I can't promise I'll be okay in a week, or a month... Maybe only Leo can fix me, but I can try to enjoy my time here with all of you while I wait for him. I always wanted to be a cheerleader, the uniforms are cute."

Percy grins and shakes her hand. "Alright, deal."

"I'm here!" Ara rushes into the meeting. "Sorry, Mom was supposed to drive me here but she started to feel ill and then Dad didn't want to leave her alone so Percy drove me but he had to go to the farmer's market first—long story—Let's start this up! Jason!" The girl grabs her clipboard and reads through it.

The boy's not actually there but in Piper's house in California. Both of them lean closer to the iris message. "Er—all good, General?"

"Let's not go there," she dismisses his question. "Talk shrines."

Jason and Piper share a look. Piper's is clearly 'I told you so' and Jason's is a 'Shut up'. The boy sighs. "I keep having different gods telling me not to sit them next to deities they hate—if you could make a survey next solstice so the minor gods get their schist together..."

"Got it," Ara writes it down. "Piper?"

"No sign of Leo or Apollo anywhere," she says. 

"Reyna?"

"Same here," responds the girl, she and Frank are in a different Iris Message. "The Amazons are helping us scout the country, but we still haven't found them."

Ara does a pretty good job of hiding the despair in her voice. "Thank you for trying. Thalia?"

"Nothing," the girl replies. "But don't lose hope, Birdy. Leo's a smart guy, if there's anyone who can survive out there with no help, it's gotta be him."

Ara bites her tongue to stop herself from making a snarky comment about Leo having a very helpful goddess with him. "Thanks, Thalia. Moving on..."

They talk of some repairs needed around camp, and some conflicts between campers, none of it is good news, but Ara doesn't dwell on it. Handy work means not simmering in her unhappiness, and it's definitely better than preparing for war. When the meeting ends, Lily and Ara exit the Big House together. 

"Hey, you didn't write this," Ara scowls at her clipboard. "What's this about?"

"What?"

"Forges, 2 PM—but it's misspelled and looks like a..." she pauses, her heart dropping to her stomach. "A child wrote it."

"Is that a question, or...?"

Ara feels a wave of remorse. "I gotta handle this alone, Lils."

The girl senses her apprehension. "You sure?"

"Harley wrote this."

Lily's face matches Ara's. "I see. Meet you in thirty?"

"Make it forty."

"Ara..." Her friend seems at a loss for words. Everyone nowadays tries so hard to come up with something, anything that will make Ara's load lighter, but they always come out empty-handed. 

Only Leo would've known the right thing to say, the right type of hug to give her, and to try and fail would most certainly just hurt her deeper. It's like standing on thin ice. They can't fix her because they're missing the right tool.

"I'm fine," Ara says kindly, reaching for Lily's hand, thankful that she doesn't have empath's touch. "As fine as I can be, you know me." 

Lily hesitates, almost as if she wants to ask Do I? but settles for a brief nod.

When she enters the forges, there is steam coming from different points and the clamoring of metal hitting metal, sparks flying everywhere, and everyone's yelling. It's not quite like feeling at home, but Ara still feels rather cozy.

Nyssa announces her arrival. "Ara's here!" Then she lowers her voice with sympathy. "Try to go easy on our kiddo, will you?"

Harley arrives and clings to her camp shirt, tugging her forward. "I have an idea I need you to greenlight!"

Ara smiles down at the boy. "Hi, boss. Just a question—how did you manage to grab a hold of my clipboard without Lily noticing?"

"Lily leaves it on the porch's swing when she goes to the rec room to kiss Connor Stoll."

"Yikes." Ara smirks. "You're nosy."

"She's not careful," he grins back.

Harley is a well-loved son of Hephaestus, and it's obviously connected to the fact that he's the youngest, with only eight years of age, and the cutest smile. Ara's heart squeezes remembering how Leo himself was eight when he lost his mother. Heck, she was eight herself just a few days ago, and she was nowhere near as strong as this kid is! Harley isn't like they were, but she can't help looking at him and thinking of Leo, she has the biggest soft spot for this boy.

"I call this the Home-Beacon," the boy drags her to his workbench.

"Ah..." Ara examines the blueprints with curiosity. "What does it do?"

"Can't you tell?"

The girl glances at him and then back at the blueprints, something heavy crawling up her ribcage. "Is this meant for Leo?"

Harley bounces in place. "See those switches? You flick them and it'll start sending all kinds of signals—they're supposed to be strong enough to cover the whole country!"

The girl thinks her next words carefully. "Yes, but what does it do? How can it help him? Or us?"

Harley rolls his eyes. "Leo has Festus, right? You said Festus is permanently activated now, so as soon as Festus flies close enough to the country, he should pick up on the signal and follow it like breadcrumbs!"

"And what do you want from me?"

Harley pouts. "You don't sound excited about this. You don't think it'll work?"

Ara quickly puts on a big smile. "Oh, I'm in business mode, that's all! I'm taking this very seriously 'cause I wanna know how to help you!"

The boy beams, convinced by her act. "I want your permission! Nyssa says she'll let me try this if you say yes."

Nyssa doesn't think the Home-Beacon will work, then. Probably because they don't know if Leo is even alive after a whole month of silence. The counselor wants Ara to say no, to stop Harley... but hope is the one thing she still keeps close to her heart.

"Has the theory been perfected to a T?" She asks.

Harley frowns. "You don't do theory. You hate it."

Ara smirks. "Well, as a matter of fact, Leo taught me to love it. So we should follow his advice, don't you think? He'd be happy to know we did it right, step by step."

Harley ponders. "But that will take ages..."

"It's worth it. I promised your brother I'd wait for him, he can wait for us too."

The little boy pouts again. "So you're not giving me permission?"

Ara taps the blueprints. "Make a copy for me and I'll help you get it right. Once the theory works, then we can make some prototypes."

Harley hugs her with impressive strength for an eight-year-old. "You got it, General!"

Ara pats his curly hair with a soft smile on her face. "No problem, boss..." Harley hops onto his tall bench and immediately starts making copies of everything. Ara walks back to Nyssa's workspot and her smile drops. "I caved so fast..."

Her friend groans. "What did you tell him?"

"That I'll review his blueprints to make prototypes," she says sheepishly.

"Ara!" Nyssa whispers with concern. "That's bad!"

"It's better than to assume Leo is dead!" She exclaims. "Harley loves him so much, and he looks so much like Leo and I love Leo—"

"I don't want him to be dead either," Nyssa interrupts her. "But Harley is a kid, his ideas aren't all that logical yet—nor doable."

"This one is," Ara presses. "Sometimes thinking like a kid when our adult perspectives are running dry goes a long way, trust me," she holds the girl's shoulder. "I'm still your right-hand girl, aren't I?"

"We've told you already," Nyssa sighs. "You're way more than that, Birdy. You're family."

"I'll help," Ara's eyes shine with determination. "I won't let you down."

Next Chapter –>

Taglist.

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[newtonsheffield]

For spicy Sunday can we please get the Story behind Kate and Anthony on the stairs...

And Ben and Sophie on the lawn of the b&b please 🤣🤓🔥

I knew as soon as I put those lines in that BWC post someone was gonna ask me about it and... Okay. Yep. Here it is.  And sorry in advance because this post is looooong.

As Much as Anthony had hated it at the time, he’d been attracted to Kate Sheffield from the very first day he’d seen her. He’d been walking innocently through the bullpen and he’d heard her commanding tone drifting through the office towards him, and heat had shot right through him, and when he’d forced his eyes towards her and she’d sat, in her office, her legs crossed behind her desk, her stocking clad legs seeming to stretch on for miles, Her eyebrow arched in question towards him, her fingernails painted black tapping against the desk Anthony had thought he’d die right on the spot. But he’d pushed it down, even when his eyes seemed to be drawn to the seam that ran up the back of her stockings and his hands twitched to touch them, and he woke in the night his heart racing, his body aching for the way his mind had conjured up the image of her writhing underneath him gasping his name in pleasure. 

And then he’d had her. And he truly thought his heart would burst from his chest because the Kate Sheffield his mind had conjured late at night, desperately trying to tell him what his heart wanted, had been his wildest fantasy truly the most erotic thing he’d ever seen. And yet, the Kate Sheffield that lay on his bed gasping and moaning his name like it was the only word she remembered how to say was a million times more so. And he’d thought that perhaps now he’d finally be able to think straight when she was around. Unfortunately for him, that was not the case. He couldn’t see her walking around the office, her stockings pulled tightly against her legs without thinking about how those long legs had felt over his shoulders, miles and miles of soft brown skin stretching on before him as she shattered around him, for him. Couldn’t see her in his house, laughing, smirking, making witty little comments with his family and hers without thinking about how her lips felt against his own, against his chest, her teeth nipping at his collarbone, scraping against his ear, against his stomach. It was enough to drive a man insane. 

And truly, today it had been. Anthony really couldn’t say when it had happened, but he craved Kate’s touch. To feel her skin against his in even the most casual way and she had been a little more casual than normal today. She’d sat on his lap as she spoke with her sister, laughing lightly as her Step mother admonished her sister, her breath fanning lightly against his neck and her nails scraping against his neck, her fingers twisting in the soft hair at the base of his neck, and it was all he could do not to stand from the table and drag her from her family, push her against the wall and lose himself in her. And The way her eyes flicked to him when he shifted uncomfortably told him she knew exactly what she was doing.

As soon as the door had shut behind the Sheffield’s Kate’s lips had been on his. Burning hot against him, setting him on fire from the inside out, as she gently pushed against his chest, forcing him to step backwards, his hands wandering everywhere as she moaned against him. He pulled back suddenly, taking her hand and attempting to tug her up the stairs, and his heart had nearly dropped right from his chest when she’d shaken her head, that wicked smirk twisting her lips as she said 

“Oh, I think we’re fine right where we are. Sit Down, Anthony.” That same, firm voice, that had caught his attention on the first day and had him panting after her ever since and he’d sat instantly, right there on the staircase, ready to burst and he’d barely touched her as she softly commanded him to. 

And really, he wasn’t sure which Kate he liked best. Seeing the strong, confident woman writhing under him, or the one he could see now: Moving powerfully above him, one hand clutching his chest, the other holding her hair back as she took what she wanted from him. And he couldn’t stop the words from coming God Kate, so beautiful, amazing. Perfect. So right, So good I love you babbling mindlessly from him with her name, worshipping like the Goddess she was, His own name falling from her lips again and again until they fell apart together his hands clutching at her like she was the only real thing in his life. And honestly, if Kate Sheffield was going to be the only thing left in his life, he wouldn’t have complained a bit. 

 🔥🔥🔥

Sophie was... more than a little embarrassed by the series of events that lead to them being discovered in a rather... delicate position on the lawn of a bed and breakfast in Somerset. Benedict had been travelling for work and his eyes and looked so pleading, so soft when he’d said Come away with me for the weekend Sophie his lips against her ear as he said I promise I’ll make it very worth your while, his hand maddeningly close to where she desperately needed it as he said Say yes, and you can have it Sophie  what could she say but  “Yes, Benedict.” ?

And truly, it had definitely been worth her while. She’s sat and watched Benedict work for a time, more than a little curious as to what he did all day. And unfortunately, she learned a little fact about herself. Watching Benedict work was... very attractive to her. The way his brow furrowed as he surveyed the scene in front of him assessing the composition, the lighting, the soft way he ordered the models about had heat rising to her cheeks. And then, as he’d packed up his equipment he’d said something that she never would have expected to set her one fire,  “Come on, I want to draw you today.” And she’d been so surprised she’d barely argued as he’d tugged her back to their tiny room, gathered his things and sat, already uncomfortably warm, on the grass in the back garden as he softly moved her into the position he wanted. 

And God he just looked so handsome, in the afternoon sun, his brow furrowed, his hand moving softly over the paper, the charcoal he was using leaving marks against his hand. His gaze when he looked at her over the top of his notebook was practically burning into her. And then he started talking. His voice rough when he told her exactly what he wanted to do to her. How he wanted to press her into the grass, feel her tight around him, the flowers all around them when he made her scream his name. And god help, her she cleared her throat and said, much more confidently than she felt:   “Promises, promises Benedict. Stop talking and do it.”  

 And Sophie watched as the drawing he’d been labouring over softly was tossed to the side, his hands covering her as his lips met hers, the fire that had been threatening to set her on fire all day consuming her. His body slipping over hers as his lips brushed over her thighs, his fingers leaving dark smudges against her skin, marking her. The grass tickling her back as her fingers slipped through his hair as everything shattered. And shattered again when he moaned out her name. 

But yes, Sophie had to admit, it was a little awkward to be served eggs the next morning by a woman who had happened upon you seconds after your boyfriend had swallowed your scream with a kiss.  

Sorry about me.

[agent-cupcake]

Can I ask your opinion? So, I feel like everyone into 3H is in love with Dimitri, but I can't connect with him. I don't dislike him, but I feel like there isn't much to his personality without all his various mental health issues. It's hard to get a feel on what he's really like, so I end up just seeing him as a walking ball of trauma and not a three-dimensional character. Do you have any thoughts on Dimitri himself and how to separate him as a person from his psychological issues? Thanks!

Hmm, I guess my first thought is that everyone resonates with characters differently and so if you don’t particularly feel connected to him, that’s not wrong. Fictional parasocial relationships are very similar to real-life relationships, so it follows that nobody is going to like every character. I can’t say that a portion of my love for his character doesn’t come from his mental issues because that’s something I personally relate to and feel drawn to in others. That’s just who I am and how I build relationships. There is also something to be said for the unavoidable way mental illness informs a person’s behavior and character, it’s as much an aspect of them as being born with blond hair or losing an eye.

That said, I will do my best to explain why I think Dimitri is wonderful. Not in spite of his mental illness, but because I don’t think that’s all he is.

So, Dimitri is, as he says, a very clumsy person. This unfortunately extends to his social skills. He has a lot of very socially awkward tendencies and a general lack of self-awareness. This contrasts with his innate desire to please people, or at least avoid upsetting anyone. The thing is, Dimitri doesn’t always completely understand what upsets people or how exactly they might feel. His childhood isolation left him rather emotionally unaware and desperate for the acceptance and approval of others. That’s not to say he doesn’t try to understand other people’s feelings, but it’s not an intuitive process. He has a habit of saying kind of dumb or uncomfortable things out of nowhere, which is most likely his real feelings coming out in rather inept ways. He means well, but he’s just so dang clumsy.

The desperation to be included and validated I mentioned, I think, can be seen in the way he tries so hard to make the other Blue Lions see him as a peer and equal all the while keeping himself rather closed off from them. Dimitri approaches conversations as a means of focusing on the other person, trying to make an appeal to them rather than as an interaction where both parties could be seen as vulnerable. Of course, just like most other socially awkward introverts, he opens up when he feels closer to the person, but that takes a while. Gotta unlock the supports, you know? Although it’s not necessarily obvious, his incredibly stiff behavior (especially pre-timeskip) and the way he switches between overly formal and awkwardly friendly in his interactions with people as he tries to figure out how to socially and emotionally navigate relationships really gives me the impression of someone trying desperately to fit in without even the faintest clue of how to actually manage that. He also does his best to avoid social situations, which, mood. Basically, Dimitri’s a big dumb massive introvert trying to act like he’s not.

FURTHERMORE, he is a dork. An absolute goof of a person. Dimitri canonically thinks so-bad-its-good puns and jokes are hilarious. His own style of telling jokes is saying things that may or may not have contextual humor in a normal voice and then claiming after the fact that he intended it as such. Now, his supports with Alois are absolute factual proof of the so-bad-its-good humor, but might I also direct your attention to the scene before the battle against Miklan in Conand Tower (the event name is “Tower in a Storm (Blue Lions)”). Basically, Gilbert is explaining the history behind Conand Tower and Dimitri says, in an incredibly earnest voice, “You’re very well informed, Gilbert. Please, tell us more.” This is a joke. Supposed to be, at least. The delivery is somewhat emphasized, but not in a recognizably sarcastic way. Gilbert, who knew Dimitri very well when he was young, realizes it’s a joke after a second. But there are other things Dimitri says that I believe are his bad “jokes” and since nobody knows him well enough to tell, they don’t call him on it. There’s no proof, but his line in the Lord’s intro where he says, “And here I thought you were acting as a decoy for the sake of us all.” to Claude has to be an attempt at sarcasm. Dimitri is oblivious, but not stupid. In his Goddess Tower conversation with Byleth, when discussing the topic of wishes, he says, “Perhaps it would make more sense for me to wish that we’ll be together forever. What do you think?” In a completely normal voice. Following are two speech bubbles of “...” before he laughs and proclaims that it’s just a joke and that he’s getting better at telling them. Now, this is a two-parter because I see this as both his horribly awkward tendency to say things he feels without thinking too hard beforehand as well as his silly deadpan style of “jokes”. Granted, he does apologize. Dimitri’s got socially awkward zoomer humor. It’s endearing.

Here is a video of Dimitri hitting on Byleth pre-timeskip. I’m not sure how far it goes to endear someone to him, but the mostly awkward and occasionally smooth attempts of Dimitri’s flirtations are absolutely a highlight of his character. 

Now, this isn’t quite as cute as all that, but I think character arc and change do a lot for making a character feel more three-dimensional. Dimitri is hypocritically selfish. Although those are both negative terms, I don’t necessarily mean them as such, at least not in their totality. Both are things to overcome, which he does. And that’s why I feel like they’re a valid point of discussion when trying to explain the allure of his character.

The hypocritical part comes from the way he easily allows and forgives the flaws of others while constantly castigating himself for the same reasons. He says things that show an absurd amount of a lack of self-awareness. For example, he tells Edelgard, “Hm. You will prove a lacking ruler yourself if you look for deceit behind every word and fail to trust those whom you rely on.” All the while straight-up lying to and emotionally avoiding his friends. Dimitri also tells Marianne, when she is punishing herself for putting other people at risk, “What matters is that they came back safely in the end. You shouldn’t blame yourself for that.” Really, his C and B with Marianne is an exercise in hypocrisy. The standards Dimitri has for himself are incredibly, unattainably high. He’s setting himself up for failure in that way and, to an extent, knows what he’s doing because he knows that those same standards are too much for his friends and allies to meet. He wishes to take on everything himself. But, what I find so beautiful about this, is that Dimitri eventually realizes that he can’t do that. He is not strong enough to take on the weight of the world on himself, he comes to understand that it’s something he must allow himself to share with the people who care about him. He comes to realize that, as difficult as it is to accept, he is a weak person. Despite all of his introversion and inability to emotionally open up, he figures out that having a support system and allowing yourself to rely on people who love you is a necessity. Personally, I think this message is incredibly important in real life. Watching Dimitri come to that conclusion and argue it’s importance really rounded out his arc and journey as a person. Now, the relatability of this conclusion will differ, but I don’t think it has to do with his mental illness as much as it is a fundamental aspect of growth.

The selfishness is basically outlined above. Dimitri is selfish about his pain and secrets, purposefully and selfishly driving people away because he wants to keep the burden to himself. His vice is guilt and he indulges in the pain of it like an addiction. Hatred, too, is a drug. He thinks he needs it to keep going, even though all it does is bring agony to himself and others around him. Learning to accept and let go of these feelings is, again, something I think is important and a character arc that I really love, especially when you see him suffer as much as he does. Now, the execution of this is lacking, I admit. But that’s an issue for another time I think.

I am not quite sure if I did much to change your opinion, but this is all I can think of for now. There is probably a lot more than I’ve left out because I think about Dimitri far too much to be healthy. So, I’ll leave you off with some honorable mention aspects of his character that I think are super fun:

Pre-timeskip Dimitri has his hair tucked behind his ear. He can lift a wagon by himself. In the DLC, when faced with an impossible-to-open gate, it was not muscle man Balthus who said he couldn’t open it, but twinkish teen Dimitri. He’s not really smooth with one-liners. Like, at all. Notably, when attacking Manuela post-timeskip, he says, “Perhaps I should have appeared before you holding a bouquet of flowers, rather than the weapon that will end your life.” Adding to this, at one point, Dimitri fucked up a pick-up line so badly the girl came after him. Areadbhar has a mitten on it in the Azure Moon final picture. He breaks everything. His Crest activation ability even supports this, using twice the durability of any given Combat Art. One of his post-timeskip counselor messages is, “I lived in the slums for a long time, and I saw how the people there suffered from poverty and the ravages of war. There must be something I can do to save them." His room in the academy is right next to Sylvain’s, meaning that for almost an entire year Dimitri was a single wall away from hearing whatever nonsense Sylvain was getting up to. Dimitri is the only Lord that takes the throne and doesn’t abandon his people in some form or another.

And, finally, he is pretty sexy. And that’s all that really matters, isn’t it?

[jilytho]

and they were roomates

Jily/Marauders roomate thing just for fun. Happy Jilytober!!!! 

Read below or on AO3 of FFNT

Moving in together had always been the plan. The Marauders, out in the real world. Throughout Uni they were always forced to split up into different apartments in groups of two, usually ending with Sirius and James in one apartment and Remus and Peter sharing one down the hall. Remus insisted it be that way because he insisted he wouldn’t be able to focus on schoolwork if he had to deal with his idiot of a boyfriend 24hours a day but separate apartments in no way made them spend any less time together. James swears he spent more nights on the floor of Remus and Peter’s kitchen than in his bed. Still, once they were done with school and off in the Real World having an apartment for all of them to live in was the ultimate goal. 

They set out to look for a spot that was nice enough to fit the bizarrely high standards of Sirius, while still not breaking the bank for Remus or Peter who insisted on paying their own way without any help. 

It was Remus who ended up finding their place, somewhat dodgy area of town but right down the street from his favorite Thai takeout place, three coffeeshops with adequate reading vibes within a four block radius, and a seven minute commute for Remus to get to the lab everyday. 14C was a once cute three bedroom apartment now covered in years of dust and grime and now officially theirs.

Sirius and Remus claimed the master with its very own ensuite so James could stop having to pick Sirius’s hair out of the shower. It wasn’t a perfect set up but they all found ways to mesh together and make it just right and just theirs. Peter was immediately made interior designer and found a couch and two armchairs off of craigslist so that they could stop sitting on the floor in front of the TV. James was in charge of the kitchen and bought real utensils and bowls so Sirius would stop pouring his cereal onto frisbees. Remus developed his very own homemade cleaner filled with bleach and alcohol and was likely poison in a bottle but it somehow made the beige counters white and sparkling. 

Technically James and Sirius were the only names actually on the lease, a Sirius suggestion, so that if they were ever late on rent it wouldn’t impact the credit Remus had spent so long building up. It had the added benefit of Peter and Remus not having to worry if their paycheck was being delayed and they had to pay Sirius or James a few days late because the boys were always good for it. 

Being adults in the real world never stopped any of them from still behaving like children. Sirius refused to take out the trash so James took to dumping the trash on his head while he was sleeping, and accidentally got day old noodles onto Remus’ pillow. They broke two TVs during two separate games of indoor football and Peter was a world class baker but was the worst at cleaning in the whole flat and left flour everywhere, constantly. But still, they were happy. They ate dinner together almost every night and had movie nights on Thursdays. Peter and James invested in heavy duty ear plugs within three weeks of moving in and realizing just how thin the walls were. 

After a full year of making Apartment 14C home, the lease was up they unanimously decided to resign because this was their place. But then one day they wake up to find that Pete has his bags packed and is all “I got a job across the country bye”. They want to fight him and Remus, always the logical one, brings up that they literally just signed for a whole year and are only 20 days into this new lease. And Peter, the little slimy rat, smirked and said “Not my name on the lease, not my problem” and just left. 

They learn from Facebook that he was working for some politician that stands for everything the boys do not. The kind of politician who would actively root against the happiness and togetherness of Sirius and Remus. Once they learn that, they are officially done missing him. 

At some time in the middle of the night all the pictures that Peter was in from school are mysteriously replaced with pictures of James’s cat. 

Sirius wants to keep He-Who-We-Do-Not-Talk-About’s bedroom empty and make it into a yoga studio/library combo but Remus says that it's ridiculous to pay that much extra in rent and he refuses to let Sirius pay for the room and so the roommate hunt begins. 

Everyone they met with was either too sweaty or too loud or was great on paper but had a super distinct death like scent so the room sat empty for almost a full month. James was content to let it stay that way and just keep finding reasons because it was good with just the three of them. They weren’t the same and James was sometimes a third wheel but these were his brothers, he didn’t need anyone else. 

It stays empty until one day, Remus comes home from work one day saying that he has a friend from class, a nice well mannered and smart girl who would pay her rent on time but is in urgent need of getting off of her sister and terrible brother in laws couch before she “sets it and the house on fire”. Sirius isn’t sure he wants someone willing to commit arson moving in across the hall from him but a quick look from Remus shut him up and he was suddenly all for the mystery girl coming in. Remus said she would be moving in in three hours and would James be available to help her carry in her bags? James felt slighted that he wasn’t even given a vote or a chance to meet the girl, but that was mostly because despite Peter leaving and betraying them, James is loyal to a fault and still saw the room as Pete’s room and Pete’s stool in the kitchen despite the fact that the lying bastard just took off with no warning and changed his phone number and was a traitorous little bastard. Still, he couldn’t argue the point too much or he’d look stupid so fine, let the new girl move in but “Remus I swear, make it clear that this is just temporary until she figures it out and we find someone else we can all agree on”. He decided he just wouldn’t hang out with the new girl. They’d be apartment mates but they wouldn’t be friends.

She shows up with seven boxes and three bottles of wine to her name. James’s mouth is full of pasta when she introduces herself to him and he is so startled by the green of her eyes that he swallows without chewing and starts hacking noodles up while waving hello as she watches, green eyes wide with concern and amusement, hand still held out to shake. 

The first week after she moves in, he avoids her like the plague. He mentally insists that he has no need to get to know her because this is just temporary and she is going to find a new place and it doesn't matter how green her eyes are if he just doesn’t look at them. 

By the start of the second week, it stopped mattering if he didn’t directly interact with her because she was still everywhere. The living room was transformed from a bare bones TV and couch room to completely cozy with scented candles and fuzzy blankets and fun, colorful throw pillows that James instantly became obsessed with. He couldn’t lie and say he didn’t love the lemon scented soap in the kitchen or how she always made sure there was coffee in the pot for him or how the scent of her rose body wash somehow fills the whole apartment everytime she showers and is amazing or how the whole apartment just felt warmer and better now that she was there. 

He stopped getting surprised when she found ways to just fit with them. He always thought Peter worked well with them, they were brothers of course, but now he couldn’t help feeling like Peter had been a square peg squeezing into a circle hole. He fit but it was also just a little tight or tense or unequal. Lily, on the other hand, clicked in just right. She was instantly just one of them, even before James had accepted it. On her 10th day of living with them (a celebration Sirius insisted required an ice cream cake) all reservations about her completely imploded because there was no arguing that she belonged with them and they belonged with her. When he woke up in the middle of the night to get a glass of water, he wasn’t at all shocked to find her and Remus reviewing chemical formulas at 3am on a Tuesday. Like of course they were, why wouldn't they be. It felt even less surprising that he just walked himself over and sat on the ground in front of her and stole her flashcards so he could quiz them both. It felt only natural when he saw her and Sirius getting ready to go to spin class together, even though Sirius never brings James to spin class with him anymore because of the one time he fell off his bike and caused a ruckus. He’s barely even confused when he ends up at a sunrise yoga class with her even though he had never been awake to see sunrise a day in his life. He’s even less surprised to learn that he enjoyed it immensely and had never been so happy to be up that early. He tells himself that it's just the impact of the yoga that he is in such a good mood but knows it has a lot more to do with the laughing goddess in the downward dog next to him. 

They get glared at all through the class because he keeps whispering things to her and making her giggle and then he becomes so transfixed by her laugh that he loses his balance and falls out of his pose, almost toppling the woman next to him. She laughs so hard her face matches her hair and giggles every time she looks at him for the rest of class. 

And then it’s Sunday and Blokes Brunch easily becomes “Lily, let’s go time for brunch” and when she pops the champagne (which had always been James’s job but he couldn't’ even fight her properly for it) he sees the sparkle in her eyes so much clearer than the sparkle in the drink and he lets himself actually see her and oh my god did she look good.

It still hurts when they see a picture of Peter on facebook or in Snapchat memories but slowly their memories start to fill up with green eyes and red hair and lovely smiles. It is no surprise when just the suggestion of her moving out became criminal. It was no surprise to any of them except for James when she stopped sleeping in her room and started sleeping across the hall with James. None of it was how the Marauders expected their lives to be at all but there was also more joy and warmth and love than any of them could have ever predicted. 

[thedistrictsleepsalonetonight]

Paper Rings (or Dani and Jamie accidentally adopt a family and also move in together)

Moving in is a process.

A process in italics. A process, underlined. A process emphasized heavily, with quotation marks around it, because Dani isn’t sure of how to describe the two months that have somehow resulted in her apparently having opened her home to a middle-aged couple, a sulky teenager, and child who bursts into the phrase “Perfectly splendid” in intervals, and a lawyer trying her very best to also have a dating life.

“Did you forget your whole entire girlfriend?” Jamie asks her, arms weighed down by a box full of crockeries and Flora who’s hanging on her back.

Oh.

Dani raises a finger like she’s making a point. “I did not,” she says, very slowly, hoping to somehow generate words as she speaks. “I did not mention you, because I didn’t need to. Because you, baby, have always been home for me.”

Hah. Take that, Hannah. To think she was of the opinion Dani couldn’t romance very well.

Jamie stares at her. “You’re so full of shit, Poppins.”

Miles opens his eyes from where he’s been listening to music on the couch for the past half-hour and leans forward, only to say — “Busted”, and Dani is officially done with everything.

*****

Strangely enough, it starts with cream.

Dani remembers it well, because it’s one of the very few argument-esque discussions they’ve had in their year and a half relationship. It’s one of the nights Dani is over at Jamie’s as opposed to it being one of the nights Jamie is over at Dani. They don’t keep track anymore. Most of the evenings, it just comes down to how much in a hurry they are to get to some place and eat and stretch out on the couch in peace.  

(Amongst other activities of course, so most of the time it’s Dani’s place)

So they’re at Jamie’s apartment, on a chilly evening about five months into dating when she jumps into bed after her shower and asks Jamie for her hand cream.

“Oh, that,” Jamie says. She opens her nightstand drawer, takes out a bottle and chucks it in her direction so it lands roughly an inch away from her hand. It also lands with its label upwards, so Dani is reading the words correctly when she says —

“This is a body lotion.”

“Yeah, that’s what you needed, right?”

“No, babe,” she answers Jamie patiently. “I asked for hand cream.”

Jamie frowns. Stares at the bottle. Then back at her. Does that for about two more times before she opens her mouth.

“Um,” she says, picking it up and pointing it to her other hand in an exaggerated motion. “Yes. You do put this on your hands.”

Why would you do that, Dani thinks, with exclamation marks punctuating every word of that. “I use hand cream. You know, it’s like foot cream but for your hands.”

“What’s that?”

(She’s not going to bore everyone with what the whole discussion that occurs then. The words keep coming, the exclamation marks keep increasing, and somehow, they conclude in this absolute gem of an ending that nobody knows how to process.)

“How could you not—”

“—wait, I’m sorry, we didn’t exactly have fancy shit up in prison, you know.”

There is silence. Dani sees her girlfriend’s lips twitching, her eyes betraying the mirth hanging behind her words. She picks up her pillow and throws it in Jamie’s face.

“You cannot keep pulling the prison card every argument we have, you ass.”

“But it works so well!”

“That wasn’t even the point. The point was that hand creams are best for hands and foot creams are best for, you know, feet and—”

“—and somehow,” Jamie tells her, “my hands and my feet are made of skin like the rest of my body. Look at that! What a surprise!”

“That’s a valid point,” Dani says, fingers pinching the bridge of her nose, trying her very best to be a nice and supportive girlfriend. “But that’s like saying that you can wear your underwear on your face since every part of your body has skin on it.”

“Who says I’m even wearing underwear?” Jamie’s right eyebrow is raised, lips pressed flat with the effort to keep from laughing and well—

(In her defense, she does have the sexiest girlfriend in the world and it’s totally understandable that she got distracted)

The next evening, she orders an entire set of creams, with Jamie grumbling in the background somewhere. I’m here most of the time anyways, she says. It’s for the both of us, if that makes you feel any better.

From Jamie’s smile, she thinks it does, and that’s how the idea starts taking root in her mind.

*****

This is how love works. Or so she’s heard. The honeymoon period is but a couple of months, and then real-life hits. After three months is when that bright illusion shatters, of your partner possibly being the most beautiful angel to ever grace this planet, and you start seeing them as who they really are — clueless and flawed individuals who do not know the difference between moisturizer and hand cream.

So she waits, holding her heart carefully in her hands. Waits a month. Two. Four. Five. And it is a couple of days after Owen and Hannah baked them a cake to wish them a ‘Happy 6 months together, y’all’, that Jamie pokes her head out of the bathroom, toothbrush in her mouth.

“Oi nah flick offa,” she says, and Dani blinks.

“I didn’t get that, sweetheart.”

Jamie disappears (to get rid of the foam in her mouth, Dani guesses) then reappears a minute later, face glowing. “I said I’m not sick of you yet.”

Dani smiles at her. “I’m not sick of you either.”

And it is such a strange thought, once articulated out loud. She still wakes up every morning, and stays for a while admiring the way the sunlight hits Jamie’s face, the way it dances with her skin and makes her look like an old Goddess; still wants to cling to Jamie like a panda whenever she sees her after a long time. Her heart still hasn’t gotten used to the most wonderful woman in the world loving her, touching her, kissing her, and she still has to give it a little time to restart every time she makes Jamie smile.  

Six months she’s kept thinking This will go away. Six months and it hasn’t.  

Dani kind of thinks (hopes, dreams) it’s forever.  

Dani kind of knows it’s forever.

Jamie plops onto the bed, arms stretching out across her back and legs finding their place over hers, interrupting her train of thought. It’s when she’s nuzzling into Dani’s shirt that the color of the shirt registers.

“Is that,” Dani says. “Is that my shirt?”

Jamie’s hands are already clutching at the fabric of the oversized lavender shirt as she finishes, as if Dani’s going to take it away from her. As if it doesn’t make Dani’s heart do funny things inside her chest to see her in it. As if she doesn’t want Jamie to only wear her clothes, because she looks so at home in them. Like she is Dani’s, forever.  

Like Dani is hers, forever.

“It’s your place,” Jamie argues. “There’s only a certain number of things I can keep wearing, you know?”

Dani kisses her cheek. Hums.

“I’m keeping it,” Jamie continues.

“Okay,” Dani says, simply, her smile saying the things she’s too embarrassed to say out loud. It’s yours. Whatever I have is yours. My home, my clothes. My heart.

(The next night when she’s over at Jamie’s, she makes Jamie pack an entire drawer full of her clothes into her bag so she can carry it over to her own place for the nights to come. There’s an empty space cleared up in the closet that sings Jamie’s name every time Dani opens the door. It will never be empty again.)

*****

“But Jamie, please,” Flora pleads.

“Yes, Jamie, please,” Dani parrots, highly amused at the vein twitching at the corner of Jamie’s forehead.

Jamie takes one look at them, at Owen and Hannah cozied up on their couch, at Miles who’s reclining against the wall trying to appear supremely disinterested and then finally to the kitten who is sleeping in Rebecca’s arms.

“Absolutely not,” she declares.

“But look at him!” Dani says, pouting. It is unfair, she supposes, for both her and Flora to pout together in the face of Jamie’s reticence but desperate times call for desperate measures.

(And she wants to pet that kitten, desperately)

“He’ll be happy with you, really,” Owen jumps in, just for the satisfaction that Jamie’s annoyance gives him, and immediately gets hit with a deadly look.

“Why don’t you guys keep him, then?”

Hannah tsks. “Oh,” she says, sounding not very sad. “I have that allergy, you know.”

“You haven’t sneezed once in all this time!”

“It’s.... a seasonal thing. A seasonal plus feline thing. I don’t know how to explain it to you, dear.”

“Baby,” Dani says, hands reaching out to hold Jamie’s. “He needs a home. We can give it to him.”

Jamie’s slowly developing a half-crazed look in her eyes, which Dani finds hilarious. “And who is this we you’re referring to? Because I’m pretty sure I’m gonna be the one taking care of the.... the thing.”

“He is a kitten,” Flora emphasizes, indignantly.

“A one-eyed kitten,” Rebecca adds, and after a round of Aws and coos that’s how Cyclops ends up living with them.

“I’m not taking care of it,” Jamie announces, right away, and Dani reminds her of it every day for a month after the day she finds them on the couch with the kitten conked out on a sleeping Jamie’s chest.  

(“We are not calling the poor thing Cyclops,” Dani protests.

Miles simply grins.)

*****

It’s time.

She’s said this to herself every morning when she wakes up in Jamie’s arms, her four pillows strewn around them and with most of the blanket hanging off Jamie’s side. Every evening as they walk back to Dani’s place arguing whether it was Chinese or Indian they were in the mood for, and when they’ve inevitably ended up at Owen’s restaurant, sharing a meal with the rest of their family. Every time they bicker over Jamie’s clothes now taking up more space in her closet than her own dresses. Let’s move in, she thinks, more and more with each passing in. Let’s live together, she almost says when Jamie decides to pop into her own apartment inevitably.

Surprisingly enough, Jamie says it first. They’re watching some reality show that involves a very accomplished woman and twelve idiots trying to win her hand, when Jamie turns to her and asks her if Dani would consider moving in with her.

“Sure,” Dani says, off-handedly, before she chokes on the large gulp of water she’d taken a moment ago. “Wait, what?”

Jamie is very determinedly not looking in her direction, her eyes hyper focused on one spot of the screen. Dani plays with her hair and waits.

“I was.... wondering, if you’d like to move in with me.”

Wondering, as though Dani wouldn’t lay down her life if Jamie asked, Dani thinks. She raises her hand, and nudges at Jamie’s chin until they’re facing each other.

“Have you thought about it?” she asks, carefully.

“I can’t stop thinking about it, which is the problem,” Jamie grumbles, and Dani is endlessly endeared by the adorable frown on her face. “Thinking about how nice it would be to go to sleep and wake up next to you every morning, and how my brother could use my apartment when he’s home from college during the holidays, and me not having to move more and more of my clothes here—”

“—and the stupid cat,” Dani adds.

“—and the stupid cat,” Jamie concludes, glancing once at Cyclops who’s finding great pleasure in chasing the Roomba around.

“Sure you’re not sick of me yet?” Dani asks her, casually, hoping she picks up on what she really means to say.  

Jamie kisses her once, twice. “Never, my love.”

And that’s that.

*****

“Catch,” Owen shouts, before a vase comes sailing through the air and lands perfectly in Miles’ hand, followed by the sound of their combined laughter.

Dani, who’s just gone through the five stages of grief, collapses onto the couch next to Rebecca.

“How did we accidentally adopt a whole bunch of children?”

“Hey!” Rebecca protests. “I am a mature adult who has her whole life in order.”

“You’re just got sent a Wazzup on Tinder by a 40-year-old man who enjoys fishing on the weekends, kid,” Jamie passes by, hand reaching out to mess up Rebecca’s perfectly done hair. “Nobody here has their life in order.”

Rebecca sticks out her tongue. “This is not nice.”

Dani disagrees. This, impromptu lasagna dinners at least thrice every week filled with laughter and ribbing, days full of sunshine and kittens and the prettiest woman at home in her arms, she thinks, is very nice, actually. Love takes effort and work, but somehow it is also easy and beautiful, and so worth it that it’s found a permanent place behind her ribcage, in her lungs, in her limbs, and in her eyes.

“Do you think this is straight?” Hannah asks her, pointing at the photos on the wall.

“Nothing about this is straight,” Miles mumbles.

“That’s very funny, Miles,” Dani snipes at him, but she gets up and stands next to Jamie. Looks up at the photos.

There’s one of her on the street corner, sitting with her typewriter, surrounded by a bunch of clamoring people. One of Jamie and her brother. One of Cyclops perched on top of Miles’ head. One, of the time when Jamie and Dani had been trying to take a romantic photo all day, only to get interrupted by Owen finger-gunning in the background. The photo had ended up including all of them, squashed together on the tiny couch, with Flora half on Jamie’s lap, and half on Hannah’s.

(There’s a last one that Rebecca had snapped in the middle of dinner one night, of Dani and Jamie staring at each other, speaking a language only they knew. Dani’s hand, carrying a spoonful of mashed potatoes, is half-raised, with the spoon almost touching Jamie’s lips. It’s Dani’s favorite. She knows Jamie loves it too.)

This is how love works, she thinks. You build a relationship. Family just sort of forms around you.

“It’s perfect,” she says, head leaning on Jamie’s shoulder.

And it really is.

[siderealscribblings]

Zelda was silent as they rode to Hateno, but her fingers never strayed from the patch of skin exposed between the hem of his shirt and his buckler.

The few times they had to pull away to tend to their needs, Link could sense the anxiety and unease wriggling just beneath the surface of Zelda's troubled expression. It was almost as clear as the relief she felt when they came back together and she could invent a new excuse to put her hands on his arm, his shirt, his belt-buckle.

If he was confused, Link wasn’t complaining.

ao3

They rode into the darkened streets of Link’s second home with Zelda’s hands wrapped around his waist for warmth. The threadbare white garment she wore was barely enough to keep the autumn chill out and even under his cloak, he could feel her quivering against his back. Her hand lingered on his as he tugged her down from the horse’s back, neither of them seemingly willing to break the link between them. Exhaustion hung heavy on their bones as Link nudged the door open, tugging the weary princess into his little cottage.

Zelda sat swaddled in a thick Rito blanket as Link warmed the house up, igniting a flaming sword and lighting the hearth. As shadows and light filled the room, her eyes fell on a collection of weapons that adorned the wall, trophies from battles she had only the faintest inkling of while holding Ganon back.

Her eyes lingered on the single bed in the upper corner of the loft, swallowing heavily as Link tugged some spare blankets out of the chest under the stairs. “You should have the bed tonight.”

Link could say more with a look than most people did with a speech, a single eyebrow raised and the corner of his lip turned up as though the idea was somehow funny.

“I’ll not argue with you,” Zelda chided playfully. “Or displace my host from his own bed; a poor guest that would make me.”

Link shook his head, letting out a small huff as she tugged the blankets from his arms. It amazed her how the rough, scratchy blanket sent a shudder running through her body, the texture feeling alien against new fingertips. She wasn’t sure if the body that she had was the same one that she sacrificed to seal Ganon, but it felt new in uncomfortable ways; like it didn’t know how to process the act of feeling quite yet.

Everything felt too keen; the heat from the hearthfire behind her prickled her skin. The course blanket rubbed awkwardly between her fingers. Her bare feet gripped the smooth wood, tensing and relaxing as she got used to the cool surface.

And then there was Link.

His fingers brushing the back of her bare arm set off a tingle that raced up her arm and she almost instinctively drew closer to him, leaning against his sturdy frame with a soft sigh. It was grounding the way he touched her; her link ( her Link) to a world that felt strange and alien to her after viewing it from afar for so long.

Link seemed to realize that he was lingering longer than he usually was, and he pulled back to set about locking the house away for the night. She fought the urge to whine as he left, fidgeting in the strange little house as traitorous thoughts bubbled up inside her mind.

This isn’t real, her mind told her. This is a scheme by the Calamity to weaken your resolve. None of this is happening; you’re still trapped, you’re still-

Breathing through her nose, Zelda fumbled for something to grab on to, steadying herself on the dresser as she saw a familiar shade of blue cloth poking out of the top drawer. Heart thumping, she reached out for the fabric, feeling the soft cotton roll between her fingers and diverting her disquieted mind to the way it felt in her hands. Soft...warm... Link’s…

The threadbare clothing she had worn for a century was on the floor in a heap by the time Zelda knew what she was doing, the short-sleeved tunic falling over her head and landing mid-thigh. The weight of it seemed to calm her as she breathed in the smell of it, relishing the faint remnants of Link’s soap she could smell in the cloth.

This is real, Zelda argued with herself. I am safe...I am alive...I am here with Link…

She insistently repeated the mantra to herself, oblivious to the fact that Link was standing in the staircase, hand resting on the banister as though the sight of her wrapped in his clothing had upset his balance. There might have been a time where Zelda would have been mortified at being discovered like this, her admiration for Link on shameless display in front of him. But her pride and her ego had been bludgeoned into dust by decades of mental conflict, replaced only by want, want, want.

“Actually...might I ask something of you?” Zelda asked, voice scarcely more than a murmur as she turned to face Link. “I just...well, it’s rather selfish of me but...might I impose on you to lie with me tonight?”

Link’s piercing blue eyes landed on hers; if she lived a hundred more years, she wanted to live with his eyes on her. She wanted to wear his attention like a crown, hold on to it like a shield, hide in it like a cloak until she felt safe and more like herself again. The fantasy of Link's clear, beautifully blue eyes had sustained her in the moments between skirmishes with Ganon, and now that she could see them in person again, she never wanted to look away.

“I...I think part of me thinks this is all just a cruel prank,” Zelda laughed somewhat bitterly. “The Calamity would...show me things that weren’t true to try and break my resolve…but he could never replicate touch. Or smell...or taste.”

Zelda ran her tongue over her lips, trying to piece together what she was asking for. “It helps if I have something to ground me in reality…” Zelda said, fidgeting a little uncomfortably as Link’s stunned silence seemed to stretch on. “Sorry...I’m overstepping my boundaries, aren’t I?”

Link blinked, shaking her head before attempting to sign something a few times.

<Tell me what you need,> Link finally managed to get out, throat bobbing as Zelda felt warm relief flood her. Of course he would help her; as much as she didn’t want to take his devotion for granted, he had never given her reason to doubt that he would always provide the things she required.

I would do the same, Zelda thought with a familiar ache in her chest. Goddess, let me give you my world in exchange for yours.

Biting her lip, Zelda settled down on the edge of the bed, tugging her makeshift skirt down as she lay back against the Rito down. Link busied himself snuffing out the lights as she crawled under the quilt, a shiver running through her body as her bare legs grazed what must have been silk from the Gerudo desert. The soft, swaddling cloth encompassed her as she felt Link’s weight sink onto the mattress next to her, turning to watch him undo his boots and kick his socks off. As he leaned forward, a patch of bare skin exposed a thin, ropey scar that Zelda could scarcely remember from before the Calamity.

Her fingers were running along it before she could stop herself, causing Link to tense as he looked back at her. “What happened here?” Zelda asked, voice distant and curious as her fingertips traced the bumpy edges of the scar.

<Moblin,> Link signed awkwardly over his shoulder, biting his lip as Zelda’s hand rode higher and higher up his back, lifting his shirt as she went.

"Here?" Zelda asked, tracing a long scar that ran from his right shoulder to his hip.

<Lynel sword,> Link replied with a wince as though the memory itself still pained him. They had suffered in different ways; Link’s suffering had been etched on his skin in bruises, scars, and cuts that still seemed to be patching themselves together. More than ever she wished she had Mipha’s knack for healing so she could erase the memories of his wounds.

Link tugged his shirt off as Zelda’s fingers ran around his sides, pressing against a bump on his hip.

“Arrow?” Zelda asked, earning a nod from Link as the feeling of his warm skin under her fingertips sent ripples running through her body. Crawling up onto her knees, she wrapped her arms around him, laying her head on his shoulder and pressing herself tightly into his back.

This is real, Zelda reminded herself, feeling him shift a little as he kicked his muddy trousers off. He’s here...I’m with him...it’s going to be okay...it's going to be okay...it's going to be okay...  

Turning around, Link shifted under the covers with her, head resting on the down pillow with a weary sigh as she wriggled up next to him, head resting on his chest like a pillow as her legs threaded through his. After a moment’s hesitation, his hand came to rest on the small of her back, his free arm pulling her into a long, long overdue hug.

And then they were clinging on to one another like letting go meant tumbling back into the nightmare they had just escaped. And then her tears were rolling down his bare chest while warm droplets of water rolled through her hair. And then Hyrule disappeared, the entire universe beginning and ending where her skin brushed against his; the only real thing she knew for sure after so many years of confusion.

In the dark, his fingers traced letters into the small of her back, words flowing from his fingertips into her body without sound. <I...am...proud...of...you…>

A soft sob bubbled up from Zelda’s throat as she nuzzled her nose into the nape of his neck. “Goddess...I’m so proud of you too...so very very proud of you…you did so beautifully, my dear…”

He seemed to uncoil a little at this; as though her words had lifted some terrible burden he had been shouldering longer than he knew he was carrying it. <Thanks...to...you.>

Zelda sniffled at this, chest swelling with so much tender affection that she worried she might burst into a shower of confetti. There was more that she wanted to tell him; so many beautiful and awful things she wanted him to know. She wanted to tell him how she had stared down the Calamity as he hurled everything in his power at her, how her love for her people and her hero had been a shield for her to hide behind. Zelda wanted Link to know that she wanted all of him in her life; wanted to devour him with hungry kisses until the taste of his mouth was burned into hers.

But she was tired and sad and so terribly terribly happy that all she could do was hold him, fingers running along his scars as she drifted off into the first peaceful sleep she could remember.

There would be time for love and everything else in the morning.

[pastelsandpining]

My Only Wish (Naughty or Nice)

The fifth prompt in 12 Days of Christmas by @zelink-prompts​

Prompt List

Cover Art: coming soon!

Words: 2087

Summary: Zelda reads about a foreign holiday called Christmas and decides to bring to life one of the traditions for the other Champions. She’ll need a red suit and a bag of gifts, but luckily she knows just the person to pull off the holly, jolly Santa Claus.

BotW Pre-Calamity Zelink, not AoC related!

Zelink-mas 2020  l  Masterlist

Link was beginning to wonder if the pressure was getting to the princess. She was always pushing forwards in the face of adversity, but it wasn’t her frustration and sadness that made him believe she’d finally cracked. 

It was when they took up residence in her study and she whirled on him with a book in her hands about goddesses only knew what.

“I’ve conducted some research,” she began, which was not new to him but filled him with a sense of playful dread anyway, “regarding Hylia’s Day and other holidays we celebrate here in Hyrule. We know that culture and religion are the basis of all holidays, and the difference in what is celebrated and how stems from those traditions. I was curious about the world outside of Hyrule. I thought perhaps I could read something about their beliefs and traditions that could help me awaken my power, but I found a celebration that’s incredibly similar to ours.”

She dropped the book on her desk and cracked it open, beckoning for him to join her. He stepped over, standing close enough so that when he leaned forwards to join her over the pages of the book, he could smell the flowery scent of her hair. 

He couldn’t read anything on the page. Not when his attention was taken up entirely by her. So he listened to her speak again, following her fingers dancing along the page.

“A religion referred to as Christianity celebrates something called Christmas. For worshipers of the faith, this day is celebrated as the birth of their savior. But the holiday became something widely celebrated by people not of that faith. It became a day of giving gifts and spending time with family. People decorate with trees and lights and hold grand parties. And just like how Hylia brings joy and peace to families on Hylia’s Eve, they too have a figure that travels to every corner of the world, leaving gifts for the children! Multiple sources have claimed that this figure keeps a list sorting the children into categories—meaning whether or not they’ve been naughty in the past year, or nice. Naughty children are given coal, which is quite funny really. He goes by quite a bit of names, too. Father Christmas, Santa Claus, Kris Kringle, Saint Nicholas—but they’re essentially talking about the same figure.”

“There’s a lot of similarities,” Link agreed, glancing in her direction. 

“I know what you’re thinking. What does any of this have to do with the sealing power?” Her cheeks flushed, the pink tint reaching to the tips of her ears. “Well, ah… it doesn’t. But Hylia’s Day is coming up and… and everyone’s been so down and patience is wearing thin and I thought perhaps we could do something to cheer everyone up.”

He wasn’t sure what sort of unseen force compelled him to obey the princess. Yet he couldn’t even bring himself to think that the scheme she’d come up with was absurd. He’d follow her to the ends of Hyrule should she ask him to. 

It was why he wasn’t exactly surprised to find himself accompanying Zelda and a holly, jolly Daruk across Hyrule. Though he couldn’t believe the princess had actually crafted the entirety of Father Christmas’s red outfit.

“This Sandy Claws really doesn’t know fashion,” the Goron said, adjusting the hat upon his head. “The less restrictive the clothing, the better for movement.”

“You play the part very well,” Zelda assured, patting the towering boulder on the arm. “Besides, I read that he’s quite the eater. Children leave out cookies and milk for him, so perhaps you’ll get lucky tonight.”

“If the cookies are prime, crunchy rock, then I can hardly resist. Right, brother?”

Daruk slapped him on his back, sending Link tumbling forwards. Zelda’s arms caught him, and he was quick to regain his balance with the feeling that the Goron did that on purpose.

“Besides, we’re really only visiting the other Champions. I wish we could do more, but we’re lacking the magical sleigh that can travel at the speed of light,” Zelda spoke again, tapping away at the Sheikah Slate. 

“Santa leaving Santa a gift, huh?”

“Oh, Link already took care of that. You’re not allowed to open it until the morning.”

Daruk turned to look at him, surprised. Link only shrugged with a small, only slightly smug smile.

“I’m sneaky,” he said. The Goron laughed and Link took a step closer to Zelda to prevent being slapped on the back and sent tumbling off of Death Mountain.

“So what did you deem me?” Daruk asked, his hands resting on his hips to Link’s utter relief.

“Nice, of course,” Zelda replied with a pat to his arm. “I can’t think of anyone who might be classified as naughty.”

Link could think of one.

But he didn’t voice his opinion and instead shrugged in agreement, and the three of them were off to Zora’s Domain. He had to admit wearing the green of the mythical Santa’s Elves was an experience—he felt a sort of respect for the color. But it was nothing compared to how Zelda looked in her costume. She’d really gone all out for this, with a green little hat and all. It was cute, and admirable really, that she was willing to go so far to spread happiness. 

Happiness they desperately needed right now, with the Calamity looming ever above their heads and constricting them like a snake.

Anyway.

He supposed it would’ve been hard for anyone not to react upon seeing three oddly dressed individuals, Zora guardsmen included. But all the Princess of Hyrule had to do was smile and they let it go without question.

“What’s your ruling on Mipha, Father Christmas?” Zelda asked, lifting the Sheikah Slate.

“Nice,” Daruk decided, rather unsurprisingly. But Link nodded in agreement.

“Sidon too. Can’t leave something for Mipha and not her little brother,” he pointed out.

“I’m hurt you think I hadn’t considered that,” replied Zelda with a satisfied smile. “Alright, each package is specifically wrapped. Mipha gets the red box with the blue bow, and Sidon is the blue box with the red bow.”

Daruk swung the red sack from his shoulder and rummaged through it.

“You might have to do this one, tiny princess. Not sure how the big guy does it without waking anyone.”

“Oh, I’m sure you’re more than capable! We’ll be right there with you,” Zelda encouraged, pulling something from the Sheikah Slate. “But if you feel you need it, I made an elixir that increases stealth.”

“What would we do without you?” 

The trip into Zora’s domain was relatively short after that. Zelda slipped into Mipha’s room to deliver the gift while Daruk and Link took care of Sidon, and she was pleased to know it’d been successful. Then, they were on their way to Gerudo for the next Champion. 

“Urbosa was incredibly hard to gift,” the princess said, thinking aloud. But Link was listening anyway, glancing over to her incase she decided to continue. 

“What did you end up getting her?” Daruk asked as he paused to rummage through the sack of presents. 

“Something of my mother’s,” Zelda replied simply, eyeing the small, wrapped box. “I think she would treasure it.”

A tiny smile graced her lips and Link felt his fingers twitch with the urge to take her hand. But she didn’t look sad. If anything, she looked comforted.

“You should deliver this one, Princess. I mean, Santa or not, Link and I can’t get into town,” Daruk pointed out. 

“I’ll be quick,” she promised before disappearing behind the walls of Gerudo Town. And while he knew she was safe there, he always felt an anxiety he couldn’t place.

“She’s real spirited,” said Daruk, nearly knocking Link over with his nudge. “It’s mighty kind of her to want to do this for us.”

“She wants to spread happiness,” he replied with a small shrug. 

“And is it working?” the Goron asked. Link didn’t answer, but he made a point to not look at Daruk and instead kept his gaze on the arching entrance to the town. A few minutes later, Zelda came back out and the group made their way to Hebra.

“Revali,” Zelda spoke, tapping at the slate. “What’s your ruling?”

“Naughty,” Link replied, without missing a beat. The Princess stared at him for a moment, then pressed a hand to her mouth to muffle her laughter. 

“I don’t want to agree, but..” Daruk said, scratching his beard, “he did call me an ‘oversized pebble’.”

“Revali’s just..” 

“Mean,” Link input, cutting Zelda off without really intending to.

“I was going to say young.”

“Well, so are you and the little guy here!” Daruk argued.

“Revali is a strong personality, and the Rito are a proud people,” Zelda stated, crossing her arms over her chest. “It would be rather rude to gift everyone but him.”

“I thought Santa’s whole thing was rewarding the good and punishing the bad,” said Daruk.

“Yes, but Revali isn’t bad, per say. Besides, we didn’t bring any coal.”

“I live on a volcano.”

“..Daruk.. tell me you did not pack coal.”

“That would be a lie, tiny princess.”

It was Link’s turn to fight back a laugh this time, biting the inside of his cheeks to keep it contained.

“Well, I can’t exactly stop you. But be sure to leave the real present too!”

But Daruk had disappeared into Rito Village, leaving the elf-dressed duo behind.

“I still think Revali would be on the naughty list,” Link said with a shrug. Zelda gave him a playful shove.

“Be nice,” she reprimanded, shaking her head.

“Do you think it’s possible for Revali to be nice?”

“I— I refuse to speak ill about any of my Champions,” but she was smiling through her words and that was enough of an agreement for Link. “I do hope Daruk hurries. I’m not sure how long the stealth elixir will last.”

“I’m sure that would make for an interesting sight to wake up to.”

To that, she laughed. Maybe the best part of the night was getting to spend time with her outside of Calamity related business. It almost felt like they were friends.

And then Daruk was back, and the group got ready to part ways. 

“Thank you, Daruk. It was fun,” Zelda spoke, setting a hand on his arm.

“The fun’s not done just yet, tiny princess. I’ve got two more on the nice list to gift.” The Goron pulled two more wrapped gifts from his bag, handed one to each of them, then set off for Death Mountain with a wink.

Link looked at the gift in his hands, something a little heavy with a beautiful wrapping job that could only have been done by nimble fingers. He glanced up at Zelda, who seemed just as surprised. 

Well, it seemed he wasn’t the only one who snuck something into the bag.

“Um,” she spoke, fiddling with her unopened gift. “I just.. it’s nothing big, but I.. I thought you’d enjoy it and you’re a Champion as well..”

Oh, it was a cue. Link nodded once, then carefully unwrapped the rectangular object. What remained in his hands was a book, and a fairly thick one at that.

“I had to beg every chef I know to get the recipes,” Zelda said again, taking a slight step forward. “It contains food from Faron to Goron City, as much as I could find. I also threw in some older recipes I found in cookbooks in the library, but I’m not sure how good any of them are.”

“I.. thank you,” Link replied, because there was really nothing he could say. He looked up at Zelda and offered a small smile, even if it wouldn’t be enough. 

She ducked her head and started to open her own gift. As soon as the treat was revealed, he found it was his turn to nervously explain.

“I heard it’s your favorite. I, uh, scribbled down a recipe I found, so if it’s not good..”

But she was smiling at him, and his words died on his tongue.

“My mother used to make a fruitcake every Hylia’s Day,” she said, and before he could give an apology or say anything else, she was hugging him. “Thank you.”

When Link returned to his quarters for the rest of the night away, he fell asleep with one thought in his head.

One day, he would love to cook every recipe in that book for the Princess.

[thomasthetankengine]

MGAU - Rosie’s Element

Characters: Rosie, Daisy, Nia, Mavis, Rebecca, Emily, Thomas (Minor), Henry (Mention), Sir Topham Hatt (Mention)

take some LORE! theres more to the magical girl squad than just weapons :0000 

Rosie and Daisy were sitting together in Daisy’s garden, watching the frogs hop past and the stream babble along and the leaves sway in the breeze. Everything was a magnificent green; flowers offered splashes of color and illuminated the bright landscape. 

“Something you get with being a magical girl,” said Daisy, “is powers.”

“What kind of powers?” asked Rosie.

“Oh, y’know, powers.” Daisy laughed at her lack of explanation. “But for real, you find your element and that element enhances your physical abilities. Ever wonder how Emily can do all those flips and jumps without breaking a sweat?”

Rosie nodded. 

“Her element is Wind. Air’s manipulated to give her boosts when moving.” Daisy plucked a flower from a nearby bush, cradling it in her hands. “Mine is Life. It’s honestly the only reason this garden isn’t dead yet.”

Rosie laughed too, leaning over to look at the flower. “What can you do with your element? Besides, well, gardening.” 

“Good question, mon amie.” Daisy poked Rosie’s nose playfully as she spoke. “And the answer is, you never know. Magic manifests itself in mysterious, fickle, uncontrollable ways.”

“What does that even mean?” Rosie asked. 

“Well...hm…” Daisy thought for a moment as she began to think her answer through. “Magic decides what it wants, when it wants, and how it wants. It’s just hard to control and will act on its own.” 

“Oh.” Rosie was quiet for a few moments. “That sounds difficult.” 

“Oui, it’s frustrating at first, but you get used to it. You adapt.” Daisy removed the petal from the flower, and another one grew in its place only seconds after. “You just have to think how your magic thinks.”

“...magic thinks?” 

“For lack of better words,” said Daisy. “It chooses what it wants to do, rather than you. I’m not sure why, but Nia said she’s been studying it.” She paused, then gave Rosie another boop on the nose with a smile. “Something tells me you haven’t figured out what your element is.”

Rosie smiled back at her. “How so?”

“You’d know at least some of this, then.”

“Alright, alright, you got me,” Rosie said with a laugh. “How do I figure out my element though?”

Daisy put her hand to her chin in thought. “I found out mine through meditation. Why don’t we try that?” 

Rosie nodded and crossed her legs and shut her eyes. Five minutes passed. Then ten. Twenty. Twenty-five. Thirty. Rosie concentrated long and hard on finding her element--or, her element finding her--but didn’t have much luck.

“I don’t think this is working,” Rosie said, finally.

Daisy shrugged. “Why don’t you ask Nia then? She’s been researching magic.”

Rosie nodded and stood up. She bid farewell to her friend and went on her way to find Nia. 

~~~

“Yeah, and then she told me to ask you, since you’ve been looking into magic,” said Rosie to Nia. Nia was hard at work repainting her engine, while Rosie sat upon the loosely constructed fence. “So...what is your element?”

“Fire,” Nia answered. She kept her focus on her work, choosing not to demonstrate her power. 

“I thought you had Wind too. Since, like, you and Emily both were good at all those acrobatics,” said Rosie.

Nia perked up. She loved explaining this aspect of her ability. “Well, it all begins with how hot air is less dense than cold air, causing it to rise. I heat the air to give me a boost! Well, my magic does, hehe.”

“Makes sense, makes sense.” Rosie nodded. She did not understand at all. “So...you and magic are separate, yes? How does that work?”

“Think of magic like...a dog. It’s its own being, y’know? But you can teach dogs tricks, like how you can teach magic to help you,” Nia explained. 

“Oh, that sounds easy!” Rosie smiled. 

“Mhm, it’s pretty quick to get the hang of. Our powers are granted by Lady, so, y’know, they like to do good things.” Nia turned around. Her overalls were stained with orange paint, but she didn’t mind. “What’s your element, then?”

“I’m...not sure, actually.” Rosie rubbed the back of her head. “That meditation session with Daisy didn’t really tell me anything, hehe.” 

Nia put her hands on her hips and thought for a moment. “Maybe you were forcing it. Magic is fickle.” 

“So, how would you recommend I find my element?” Rosie asked. 

“I found my element while working. I was having trouble getting my engine’s fire started, and boom, there it was,” said Nia. “So, maybe you’ll find yours when working on the railway. After all, Lady is a goddess of the railroad…”

“You’re right,” Rosie said, and she bid her friend farewell in order to get ready for her next shift and continued on her quest to discover her element and master her magic. 

~~~

The next day, Rosie worked long and hard on the railway. She shunted trucks and passenger cars. She brought empty trucks to the Ffarquhar Quarry, where she stopped to have a chat with Mavis while she had spare time. 

“Element?” Mavis raised an eyebrow as she took a sip of her cola. “Yeah, that came pretty easy to me, I guess. But I wasn’t working when it happened, nah.” 

“So...how did you find it?” Rosie asked. 

Mavis hummed to herself as she thought. “Well, I was arguing with my brother, and uh, well, the ground started shaking. Guess I got so pissed my magic took note.” 

Rosie blinked. 

“Yeah, it was weird.” Mavis then laughed. “I had to lie and say Sodor is on a faultline so that’s why it happened.”

Rosie laughed too, but she wasn’t quite sure why it was funny. “If I get really mad, maybe I’ll find my element,” she said.

Mavis shrugged. “Try me. Get pissed.” 

Rosie scrunched up her fists and face and thought very angry thoughts. She thought about the magical beasts threatening life on Sodor. She thought about Ska and how her physical form was taken from her. She thought about how Sir Topham Hatt was a capitalist. Her thoughts were very angry. 

Mavis laughed. “Sorry, sorry, you look like you’re taking a shit.”

Rosie stopped and laughed, and laughed, and laughed. Mavis was right. 

“Hm, maybe you should try asking Rebecca,” Mavis suggested. “She found her element in the middle of a fight with my dad.” 

“Really?” 

“Yeah! Big guy came home telling me how cool it looked,” Mavis said.

And once their break was over, Rosie entered the driver’s cab of her engine and went on the search for Rebecca. 

~~~

Rosie met with Rebecca at the end of the work day back at Tidmouth Sheds. The sun was setting over the sheds, reflecting off the murky brown pond water nearby. 

“Roro!” Rebecca smiled and greeted Rosie with a hug. “Do you need something?”

Rebecca hugged too tight, causing Rosie to let out a quiet squeak. Nonetheless, she hugged back. “I’m trying to find my element, and Mavis said you might be able to help.”

“Oh, really?” Rebecca let go and tilted her head to the side. “I don’t think I’ll be of much help with this.”

“C’mon, every little bit helps!” Rosie took Rebecca by the shoulders and playfully shook her back and forth. 

“Alright, alright-!” Rebecca put her hands over Rosie’s to stop her from continuing to shake her. 

Rosie stopped and listened to Rebecca’s story. 

“Alright, so I was in a fight with Dayton, yeah?” Rebecca leaned back against the wall of the sheds. “By the beach. And he retreated into the water since, oh, let’s be honest, Daisy would’ve killed me if I got my dress wet.”

“Hehe, she would’ve.”

Rebecca kept speaking. “That was when my magic kicked in. The sea split, and Dayton was so in shock I could just walk up and whack him!” 

“It was that easy?” Rosie asked.

Rebecca nodded.

“Can we try?” Rosie added. 

“I think I’ll kick your ass,” said Rebecca, “But I don’t mind a spar.”

That was when Thomas, their coworker, walked by. “A spar?” he asked. 

“I’ve been taking fencing lessons,” Rebecca lied. “I was going to show Roro a thing or two about the basics.”

“Woah! That sounds sick!” Thomas said. “Can I watch too?”

Rebecca could only laugh and nod, though she really didn’t know much about fencing. She only knew the swordplay Nia had shown her, and she hadn’t practiced that at all. Nonetheless, she tried her best, and her best was enough to convince Thomas that she knew how to fence.

The sun then set over Tidmouth Sheds, and Rosie and Rebecca each returned to their own home to rest the night and begin tomorrow’s day. 

~~~

On her way to work the next morning, Rosie stopped to chat with Emily. Emily lived down the lane, in a neat little apartment, and over tea they spoke. Emily brewed better tea than Henry, Rosie noted. Both brewed bitter teas, but Henry’s always had a salty taste. 

“So you’re looking for your element,” Emily said with a sip of her tea. No sugar, no milk, just pure black. “I think I was the first to find mine.” 

“And how did you find it?” Rosie asked.

“Hmm…” Emily paused for a moment in thought. “I sneezed. Silly, I know, but that was when I first noticed it showed up.” 

“That’s weird. So, it was just random?”

“Yeah, pretty much. Sneezed, then accidentally made a small tornado,” Emily explained. “If you’re looking for your magic, I suggest you take it slowly. You can’t really force it.” 

“I know…” Rosie sighed. “It’s just, it all sounds so cool, y’know? Nia’s fire, your wind, Rebecca’s water, Daisy’s life, Mavis’ earth...I just am pumped to see what I wound up with.”

“And you’ll find out soon, don’t you worry. It’ll come with time,” said Emily. She gave Rosie a pat on the shoulder. 

“Waiting is boring.” 

Emily laughed. “I’m sure it is. Why don’t we go cause some confusion and delay to take your mind off of it?”

Rosie could only laugh too, and she nodded. 

That day at work, Rosie shunted slower than usual and mixed up the order of Henry’s passenger cars and trucks. Henry and Emily thought it was very funny, but Sir Topham Hatt was cross. However, Rosie was in the union, so there was nothing Sir Topham Hatt could do about her minor mixups on the rails. 

~~~

That evening, Rosie curled up in her bed after turning off the room light. She had enjoyed the past few days. She got a joke fencing lesson from Rebecca, had a meditation session with Daisy, learned about magic and elements with Nia, shared drinks and jokes with Mavis, and had fun causing confusion and delay with Emily. She didn’t know her element, but she was happy. 

She turned over in bed to turn on the lamp on her bedstand. Perhaps she’d finish reading that book Henry loaned her that night. However, just before her hand hit the switch, the lamp turned on. 

This was her magic. Electricity. With an excited grin, she picked up the book and began to read, illuminated not by the work of a power station but her own power. 

~~~

[lokislittlesigyn]

OG616 : Thor: The Dark World - Pt.5 [The Visit]

[My masterlist, where all parts of this and my other fics can be found]

Pairing: Loki / Sigyn (basically an oc based off the marvel/myth namesake)

Warnings: Major character death, some other mentions of violence/death. Nothing overly graphic.

Author’s Note: Have a little old-married-couple-Logyn as a treat. (followed by immediate sad. I promise, this gets less dark soon!)

Taglist: @high-functioning-lokipath , @onaheroicmission To be added to the taglist, just ask me here or send a message! <3 ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

He was there.

Right there.

Moments away. Inches away. Loki stood with his back to her, flipping through a book.

The inside of his cell looked surprisingly comfortable, mostly thanks to what few things she and Frigga sent. Inside there were the tables, the chair and footstool. Books, stacked neatly against the far wall. A bed in the corner - with their blankets on it. The bed was unmade, one of the blankets hanging off the edge onto the floor.

At least he’s gotten some rest.

She smiled softly, then looked at him again. She wasn't sure how to get his attention.

Glancing around just to make sure they were alone, she pulled down her cloak's hood.

Seconds felt like years. Eons.

What do I say?

She stared at him. Took another step up the stairs before the cell, and tripped - gasping sharply, barely catching herself before she fell into the field of burning energy.

That was close. She leaned back, trembling slightly, her gaze locked on the deep gold aura gleaming in front of her.

Then she looked up. Her heart skipped a beat.

Loki was watching her, his face conveying pure astonishment for a split second - then confusion. Anger?

"Sigyn." He snapped his book shut. "I should have known you would be foolish enough to come here."

"Foolish?"

"Yes, foolish. It is foolish to risk getting caught, to risk getting killed-" He stopped himself. Exhaled, set the book aside. Looked back at her. "You should not have come."

"I hadn't meant to anger you..."

"Pardon me for fearing for my wife's safety."

"Loki, I am safe." She tried to step closer, but stopped at the barrier. She already hated the barrier. "You see? I got past the guards without them ever noticing - Loki, I'm here, I've come to you! Are you not glad to see me?"

"I would be more glad if you were not so close to being locked away too."

Sigyn's voice softened. "If it meant being with you, I would choose it."

Loki swallowed, watching her. He stepped closer.

"What happened to you, Loki? What did they do to you?"

"The Asgardians?" He huffed a laugh.

"No. The creatures you were with, the mad titan and his ally. What happened?"

Loki’s smile quickly disappeared.

".. You shan't speak of it. Of course." Sigyn looked away.

Give him time. Be patient.

She looked back at him.

He seemed to be studying her. Soaking in every inch of her. It felt almost like when he would admire her, so long ago. Of course, she admired him too.

She'd always admired him.

"I still can't believe you're here.." She breathed. "I missed you. I missed you so much. When they told me you were dead, I..." Tears gathered in her eyes. "I couldn't believe it. I didn't, at first. And then you were alive again. But you weren't safe, you were out there, alone.." She stumbled over the words, whispering through tears. "I missed you."

He let out a soft, defeated sigh, blinking slowly. "I missed you too."

Sigyn's heart felt lighter than it had in over a year.

He missed me. He still loves me.

She smiled, in spite of the circumstances, though she desperately wished she could join him. She wiped a few tears away with the back of her hand.

"The necklace I gave you.." Loki walked to the edge of the barrier, his hands behind his back. "You still wear it."

"Of course I do." She pulled it from under her shirt, holding it out. "I haven't stopped."

"Since..?"

"Since the day you fell."

Loki nodded. "Hm. Truly the goddess of fidelity."

"It's just a title," She returned the necklace to its previous spot.

"But you uphold it well."

She smirked. "As you do yours."

Loki let out a breathy laugh. "I'm sure many would disagree."

"The god of mischief," She smiled, warmth in her voice, "The trickster. Fitting titles, both."

"And yet who is now on the outside looking in? Hiding their identity, committing - I'm afraid to say - terrible crimes?"

"Is it a crime to see my husband?"

"It's certainly a crime to break into the dungeon."

"Funny. You'd think they'd be more worried about someone getting out, not in." Sigyn grinned.

Loki huffed, "You would be surprised."

"Perhaps. Shows how much I‘ve yet to learn," she giggled, glancing away for a moment. As she turned her head, she could've sworn she saw Loki truly smile at her.

"Have you any idea how these cells work?"

"Now, Sigyn. Don't tell me you're going to break in and out of the dungeon."

"I only asked a question." She walked over to the dungeon wall. No controls, no levers, no hint to how the barriers were sustained..

"Some sort of spell, I imagine, but none I know." Loki watched her, gripping his hands together as she continued smoothing her hand over the wall. "Sigyn," He called, "You should leave."

She stopped. "What?"

"Leave, Sigyn."

"I've only just got here.."

"It's not safe."

"But-"

"The guards are coming on patrol. Unless you would like a cell of your own, you must leave."

She looked at him one last time. Sure enough, the sound of footsteps echoed through the dungeon. She hadn't noticed.

"I love you," She grasped her hood.

He gazed down at her, his breath heavier. "..I love you too, Sigyn. Now go."

~~~~

Sigyn left the dungeons completely unnoticed. She meandered through the palace, stopping near the throne room. Checked to make sure she was alone before pulling down her hood and gazing out a window at the city. Her heart still felt giddy, her hands still a bit shaky after finally speaking with him - it took everything in her not to shout for joy.

I'll find a way to free you, Loki. You'll be safe here. The Nine Realms are protected, our family is back together again. We even have Jane now - everything is better than it was before. She sighed happily, taking in deep, relaxed breaths between small fits of laughter. It will be okay. Everything will be okay-

Alarms sounded.

The prison alarms.

Her hair stood on end, her heart skipping once before pounding in her chest.

Loki.

Had he found a way out?

Guards hurried, battalions forming and marching to report to the king. They wouldn’t rally so many just to stop him… We’re under attack.

Sigyn followed. She caught a glimpse of Frigga and Jane walking away.

Good. Frigga will keep her safe.

"Allfather?" Sigyn caught up with Odin. He turned, facing her.  "Allfather - how can I help?"

"You can stay out harm's way."

Sigyn huffed, "I want to help."

"Sigyn, you have little experience in battle, and no weapon to speak of. The best you can do is stay safe."

She wanted to argue. To help, to fight whatever was attacking her home - but instead she nodded, backing down. An argument between her and Odin was the last thing everyone needed. "Very well, as you wish.."

Odin seemed vaguely impressed as she turned, leaving. Not knowing where Frigga and Jane were, Sigyn went up to a room she knew healers would be hiding in - and sure enough, many were there, looking bewildered. She closed the door, standing before them.

"The Allfather will protect us. We are to remain here."

Countless explosions sounded from outside. The entire room shook as something attacked - no, bombarded the palace.

The servants looked to Sigyn. As princess, she was highest in command among them.. Though she’d hardly led anyone before.

"Don’t fret," She assured them again, "We will be safe here."

They waited.

And waited.

Holed up in the quiet healing room, listening to muffled explosions from outside.

Sigyn couldn't decide if it was better or worse to be waiting, rather than in battle - at least out there, she might see what was going on. Eventually, the deep hum of a ship flying away suggested they could leave.

Sigyn walked to the door, opening it. Paused. "It's safe."

Making her way to the throne room, her breath grew unsteady.

Bodies. Bodies everywhere, littering the floor with blood and decay. A ship had crashed into the throne room. Countless pillars of stone toppled over, the dust still settling over the ruin. 

The throne of Asgard, half destroyed. More bodies laid strewn about before it.

She swallowed, looking at each of them pointedly. Rest well. You fought bravely.

She looked around her. Not a soul. Where are they all?

She searched the castle, catching sight of Thor and Jane. They were safe.

"There you are!" She stopped in front of them. "Where is everyone, brother?"

Thor gazed down at her.

Sigyn's brow immediately furrowed and her stomach churned. He had the same grim look she'd seen over a year ago, when he'd returned from the Bifrost with Odin. But now it somehow looked more certain. More real. More… Enraged.

"Thor...?"

"Sigyn, come, there is.. No way to put this lightly."

~~~~

Frigga was dead. Gone.

Dark elves had attacked and murdered her, along with countless others. Dark elves of Svartalfheim - an enemy they were told had been slaughtered by King Bor eons ago. 

Yet another lie that had cost her family everything. 

So many lives lost.

Her life lost.

Sigyn sat by a window, weeping quietly. Grief came in waves, washing over her relentlessly, one after the other.

If I'd followed them, her and Jane, things might be different.

I should've followed them. I should've helped them. I should’ve known how to fight.

She gripped the folds of her cloak, sniffling. Squeezing her eyes shut.

Mother, I'm sorry. I'm so sorry I wasn't there for you. I should've been there to defend you.

Sigyn opened her eyes again, gazing out the window.

I miss you already.

~~~~

That night, a funeral was held. Sigyn begged Odin to let Loki attend.

He refused, and forbade she try to tell him herself. 

She knew it was too risky to go see Loki now. Frigga was no longer there to vouch for her - one wrong step, and Odin may have Loki executed for all she knew...

So Sigyn stood alongside Thor and Jane, clutching her necklace with white knuckles. Watched as boats, carrying the deceased, drifted peacefully by. There were so many boats... Too many.

A flaming arrow was lit, sent flying out to meet Frigga's boat. Flames consumed it. Then more arrows flew and met the other boats, flames growing. Burning.

As Frigga's boat drifted to the edge of the sea, Odin beat Gungnir on the ground, and her body turned to stardust, floating up into the sky.

Sigyn's gaze followed them.

An ocean of stars. Billions of shining lights, the same she and Loki once lied under. The same she once asked Frigga about.

I miss you, Frigga. A tear ran down her cheek as hundreds of lights were released, each drifting to the sky. Stars in their own right.

I will keep your son Loki safe. Give him your love and mine, love him more than I ever have before. I will help Thor, and Jane, the mortal. I promise, I will do you proud. Even if you were not my birth mother,

She swallowed,

You were a mother to me.

[ellewritesathing]

Infernal  -  IV

Summary: In your sleepy little town of Greendale, nothing ever slept for long. And ever since October, everything felt like it was waking up. Everything except for you, that is. One teensy trip to Hell (and an infuriatingly cute guy) later and suddenly you felt wide awake.

Word-count: 5.5k+

Masterlist Prev. | Part 4

A/N: okay okay i know you guys hate cliffhangers and i’m sorry!! hopefully this makes up for it tho 👀👀 also i’m working on some other caliban fics to post once this series is over, would you guys still like to be tagged in those??

tumblr’s formatting has been shit these past few days as well, and i think i’ve gotten most of it ironed out but let me know if there’s anything i missed!

“When she comes back to life, she won’t be scarred, will she?” Harvey asked. His voice was still full of concern, but it was softer now. A quiet kind of anxiety.

“She will not,” Caliban said. 

“Oh, that’s a relief,” Sabrina breathed. 

You had to admit, looking at Roz all broken and put back together again was unsettling. Not any more unsettling than finding out your mom was a demon and your dad was a psychic (maybe?), but unsettling nonetheless. 

“What do we do now?” you asked, arms folded over your chest and leg bouncing to distract from how uncomfortable you felt. 

“You say the spell, but first, you make your offering,” Caliban explained. Eyes rolling over from Sabrina to you. He seemed to zero-in on your nerves like a hawk would a field mouse. 

“To whom?” Sabrina asked. 

“Aphrodite or Eros,” Caliban said. 

“What am I offering?” Harvey asked. 

“Your love for Rosalind,” Caliban said. “Give it up, and she’ll be restored to flesh.”

“Give it up? What are you talking about?” Harvey asked.

“Aphrodite is the goddess of love,” Caliban said. “She’ll grant your wish, but demands your heart’s desire: Rosalind.” He looked down at the statue of your friend. “Vow to forsake your truest love, then to complete the spell … kiss her. She’ll restore to flesh once more. But if you betray your vow - if you kiss her again - she’ll return to stone and will remain that way until the end of days.”

“Wait, no! Harvey, there has to be some other kind of offering,” Sabrina said, reaching out to comfort him. 

“It’s a Pygmalion spell,” you said. Your voice was still full of anger, so you made a conscious effort to soften it. Taking a breath, you went on, “The myth is that to bring his statue to life, he gave up sculpting. His true love. So there isn’t really a way around that.”

“Exactly,” Caliban said. You hadn’t met his gaze when he cataloged your unease before, but now you accidentally caught his eye. Your leg stopped bouncing. Your anger flickered for a moment. “Love for life.” 

“I’ll do it,” Harvey said, not leaving any room to talk him out of it. He walked towards Caliban and took the paper from his hand. 

“Say the words to Aphrodite and give her a kiss,” Caliban said. 

Harvey knelt down and said some heartbreaking words that you wished you hadn’t overheard before saying the spell written on the piece of paper. He gave her a kiss but nothing changed. She was still stone.

“Nothing happened!” he said, looking up. 

“Caliban?” Sabrina asked, sounding equal parts accusatory and panicked.

“His offering was rejected,” Caliban said.

“What does that mean?” Harvey asked. “Why?” 

“You must not truly love her,” Caliban said, like it was obvious. Unexpected, tragic, but obvious. 

“That’s bullshit!” Harvey got to his feet, squaring up in front of Caliban. 

“Oh, crap,” you mumbled as you uncrossed your arms and moved around Roz to get to Harvey. You slipped your hands around his arm but it didn’t stop him from simmering in place. “Harvey, calm down.”

“Aphrodite would only accept your heart’s true desire,” Caliban said, either unbothered by Harvey’s anger or uncaring toward it. Still, he pushed. “That must not be Rosalind. Must be something or someone else.”

“Shut the hell up!” Harvey yelled as he slipped out of your hands. In one quick motion, he grabbed the collar of Caliban’s shirt and threw him against the wall. 

“Harvey, enough!” you yelled. You maneuvered your way between them and outstretched your hands, one palm splayed on Caliban’s yellow t-shirt and your other fingers pointing dangerously at Harvey as Sabrina pulled him a few feet back. 

“What does he know? Him and his bullshit spell,” Harvey spat. “How do we know if any of this is real?”

“Why would I lie?” Caliban asked. His heartbeat was slow and steady under your hand, more interested in your intervention than Harvey’s outburst. 

“Harvey,” you warned before he could say anything else. Sabrina’s attention slipped for a second and Harvey’s hand got free. He got ready to aim it at Caliban. Your voice was sharp as knives and twice as deadly as you snapped, “Harvey, drop it.” 

He looked at you for a second before unclenching his fist. The frown on his face deepened as he collected himself. Sure, you picked on him the most out of your friends, but you were always the first one on his side in a fight. You weren’t sure if your shifting alliance was making him frown or the fact that he’d actually listened to you. 

“I should kick your ass,” Harvey mumbled, looking over your head to Caliban again. 

“Try it again and I’ll grind every bone in your body to sand,” Caliban said, tone back to being vaguely threatening and unhelpful as he straightened up under your hand. 

You pushed him back slightly and turned to tell him to knock it off, but Sabrina’s voice stopped you. “Tell us what, Robin?” she asked, clearly having a conversation that you weren’t listening to. 

“Among the pagans, there’s that witch, Circe,” Robin explained. “The one that turned your friends into pigs? She has powerful magicks of transformation. She could turn your friend back into flesh.”

“For someone who’s trying to earn our trust, why would you only tell us this now?” Sabrina asked. 

The lull in arguing made you very aware of how close you still were to Caliban. His heart continued to beat faithfully under your palm as yours rose in your chest. Taking a breath and a step back, you reached for Harvey’s hand in an attempt to put some distance between the two of you. Caliban gave you a curious look as your hand laced into Harvey’s, tilting his head to the side ever so slightly.

“No, it’s too dangerous,” Robin said, snapping you out of your thoughts. “I mean, Circe’s power resides in her hands. All she’d have to do is touch you, and she could turn you into any creature she’s ever seen before. And without magick, you’re no match against her.”

“I don’t have magick, it’s true,” Sabrina said. “But I know where I can borrow some.” 

She told you about the hedge-witches and her plan to borrow their magic in order to attack the Carnival and bring Circe to the Academy. That way, she could fix Dorcas and Roz. How she was going to convince them to help her, you weren’t sure. You were tired of placing faith in people that didn’t deserve it.

“Okay, but I’m still going to look some stuff up,” you said when she was done. She gave you a hurt look as she readied herself to argue. “Brina, it’s not that I don’t think you can do this, but I don’t like putting all our hope in this one plan. That hasn’t really been working out for us lately.” 

“Fair enough,” Sabrina said with a small sigh. “Ambrose is busy but you can look in the Academy’s library as much as you want.”  

“Hell’s library is endless,” Caliban said, still leaning on the wall where you’d left him. He’d been so quiet that you’d almost forgotten he was there. Almost. “It’s knowledge is infinite. If there’s another way to return Rosalind to flesh, it’s in there. Not in some coven book club.” 

“You’re inviting me to Hell?” you asked. Your voice betrayed you by sounding too interested.

“Only if my queen allows it,” Caliban said, gaze moving to Sabrina. His voice didn’t. 

Looking next to you, you found Sabrina pulling a face. She didn’t like Hell at the best of times, and you doubted this qualified. “You’ll protect her from whatever’s down there?” 

“As if my life depends on it,” Caliban promised. 

“Oh, it does,” Sabrina said before turning to look at you. She cupped your hands in hers before giving you a warning. “Be careful and don’t listen to a word he says.” 

“Trust me, that’s not gonna be a problem,” you said with a sigh as you looked over to Caliban. He wore an amused smirk as he held his hand out to you. 

“Shall we?” 

Against your better judgment, you put your hand in his. It was warm, hard in some places and soft in others, and the only thing you focused on as the hellfire burned the edges of vision and the world gave way beneath you. 

--- 

“You know, this would go a lot quicker if you helped instead of just looking at me like that,” you said, not looking up from the millionth book you’d taken out that night. 

But he wasn��t looking. He was studying you under a microscope and you were trying not to squirm. Curious.

When you’d gotten here, the first few minutes had been painful retching - hell was not made for humans. Then they were nervous butterflies and shaky hands - you were not made for the attention Caliban gave you. Then they were frantic sprints from shelf to shelf - hell’s library was not made for someone with a very specific problem.

“I’m admiring,” Caliban corrected, leaning closer in his chair. “For instance, did you know that when you’re focused, your forehead creases right there?” He touched the spot between your eyes, just next to your eyebrow. “Exactly like it’s doing now.” 

You took a breath and slammed the book shut on the table, turning to give him a harsh look. “Did you know that when I’m annoyed, I have a nasty habit of choking nearby demons?” 

“Is that a promise?” he asked, not having moved an inch from where he leaned in to touch your face. The two of you were so close now that it felt like there wasn’t enough air. His eyes dropped to your lips. A second passed and all he did was shake his head and collapse back in his chair. “The Pygmalion spell had the greatest chance of curing your friend, any of the spells we find now are likely to be too obscure to hold any practical weight.” 

“Then why did you bring me here?” you asked, actively trying to put out the fire inside you and not be the first to look away. 

“I have to admit that my motives were purely self-serving,” Caliban said as he stretched out, hands interlacing behind his head and elbows spread wide. “I wanted to spend some time with the person who risks not one, but two trips to Hell for her friends. Is that such a problem?” 

“Considering you want to dethrone my best friend and enslave everyone I’ve ever met, I’m going to go with yes,” you said. You didn’t think that you could take him looking at you like that any longer, so you started piling books together to shelve later. A petty defeat. 

“What if that was something I no longer wanted to do?” Caliban asked, sounding genuinely interested in your answer. 

“You’d forfeit your claim to be king?” you asked, hands frozen in the air over a book of ancient curses.

“Hardly,” Caliban scoffed. You shook your head, telling yourself that you knew better, and kept piling up books. “But I’d be a more benevolent ruler.” 

Disappointment warped into anger again. Your shoulders bunched up as you turned to him, and you tugged them back down as you threw the books in your hand back onto the table. “Yeah, of course, you think that’s better. That it makes all this better! You know, that’s your problem. You and Harvey are the exact same, you know that? You’re both so full of-” 

“Shh.” Caliban raised a finger to his lips, looking around, which only made you angrier. Screw him for thinking he could tell you what to do. You were about to start snapping at him again when he whispered, “There’s something in here with us.” 

Your arms fell back to your sides as you quieted down. You couldn’t see anything as you looked around the room, but the shadows seemed to grow darker. Darker and darker. They swirled into unnatural shapes as something rasped around you, wind blowing the pages back and forth on the table in front of you.

A plague upon all mortals who enter Hell.

It wasn’t so much spoken as it was whispered directly into your head, rattling around angrily as it ransacked your skull. 

Death to the daughter of the winged and taloned demon of the night. 

Caliban grabbed your hand so quickly that you barely had time to process the words he muttered furiously as the shadows crept closer. He pressed his other hand to the open book on the table as he finished and everything melted into a familiar white light. 

You were retching on the edge of a forest by the time your sight came back again. Clutching onto Caliban’s yellow t-shirt to keep your balance, you tried to stand up straight again. 

“What the hell was that?” you asked, still out of breath as you frowned at your surroundings. You didn’t recognize any of the trees or the way the land crested and fell to knit together. “And where are we?” 

“Those were the wraiths of reapers,” Caliban said. He held onto your arms to keep you upright as he assessed the forest in front of you. He looked back down at you, a little more coldly than you were used to. “I told you that day on the shores to be careful in Hell or you’d draw something out.” 

“It’s not like I was trying to!” you snapped, anger giving you the strength to push him away and stand on your own. You shot him a glare and crossed your arms over your chest. 

“Could have fooled me,” he said. Anger tinged his words and you pulled back slightly. Cold was one thing but anger was another. “With such a dark cloud around you, it’s amazing you didn’t call the hounds themselves on us.” 

“Okay, you know what, why don’t you just-” A sharp pain shot through your head and your threat died on your lips. You took a breath and rubbed your face. Humans weren’t made for back-to-back teleporting. But you weren’t human anymore, were you? “Let’s just try to get out of here in one piece, alright? Now, where exactly is here?”

Caliban clenched his jaw and his gaze flicked back to the forest before settling on you again. “When the wraiths appeared, the quickest way to get out of here was to place us in the safe haven of the spellbook. The only problem is that with all the wind … I'm not sure where we ended up.”

“Well, what was the book about?” you asked, shifting your weight from foot to foot as you looked around the forest. You couldn’t tell if the forest felt wrong because something was off or because of how things were between you and Caliban.

“Petrifaction in Greek myths,” Caliban answered. “So chances are we’re either in the myth of Pygmalion-”

“Or Medusa?” you guessed, eyes settling on his. He nodded and you bit the inside of your cheek. “So how do we get out of here?”

“We wait for the story to run its course,” he said. “We don’t have to get involved?” you asked hesitantly. He shook his head and a knot in your upper back untangled. You could get out of this safely as long as you let Medusa turn some long-dead people to stone. It felt too easy. “Then let’s find a place to wait this out.”

You chose a direction and started walking, part of you waiting for Caliban to say something and another relieved that he was letting you walk in silence. It gave you the chance to think about everything Lilith told you earlier.

“The cloud is starting to come back,” Caliban warned after maybe an hour of walking. “Are you going to tell me about what’s bothering you or are we going to wait and see what comes out of these woods?”

“I’ll take my chances with the wolves,” you said, looking at him over your shoulder. He cut the nonchalant smile you threw at him in half.

“No.” Caliban caught your arm before you could swing it back around and then stopped walking. “We’ve got nowhere else to hide if something comes after us.”

Maybe it was his steely resolve or the fact that he actually did seem concerned under that well-worn apathetic safety blanket of an expression, but you felt some part of you cave. You couldn’t tell him about Lilith - you couldn’t tell anyone about Lilith - but maybe you could talk about something else. 

“What did you talk to Sabrina about when you went to Hell?” Caliban leaned back slightly and frowned for a second before recovering. 

“That’s what this is about?” he asked. He must have realised that his voice came out too gently because then he added, “It almost sounds like you’re jealous, love.” 

“I knew this was pointless,” you scoffed, looking him dead in the eye as you pulled your arm back. “And I’m not jealous, by the way, I’m frustrated.” 

“Sexually?” You rolled your eyes and ignored the heat in your cheeks as you started walking again. A pretty trainwreck was still a trainwreck, and you had no desire to buy a ticket to ruin. Well, you had a little desire, but you stomped it down. 

“I asked her to marry me.” 

You stopped dead in your tracks, but you didn’t turn back to look at him. 

“The challenges would end, balance would be restored.” The undergrowth crunched as he closed the distance between you, slowly and deliberately. “We’d wipe out the pagans and your life would go back to the way it was.” 

A final crunch as he stopped next to you - waiting for you to say something, probably - and lifted a hand to move the hair off your neck. Slow, deliberate sparks skated across your neck where his fingers touched. If he saw the necklace, he didn’t say anything. 

“That is still what you want, isn’t it?” You turned to look at him, accidentally making his hand cup your neck in the process, and said in your well-worn apathetic security blanket of a voice, “Let’s find shelter before the sun sets.” 

Something flashed across his face, but all Caliban did was take a step back and let his hand fall to his side. “As you wish.”  

He was infuriating. 

After what felt like another eternity of walking, Caliban stopped, holding a finger to his lips. It sent shivers down your spine, reminding you of when he did the same thing in Hell’s Library. He nodded his head to the man on the other side of the lake. 

Caliban dropped his head to whisper in your ear, “You were right about being in the tale of Medusa, but we were wrong about which part that is.”

“So where are we?” you asked quietly, doing your best to keep focused on the fact that he wanted to marry your best friend and not on the fact that his lips were dangerously close to your face. 

“Just before the end. Where Perseus slays her and returns a god among men,” Caliban said, turning his head to look at you. So close. 

“What?” you whisper-yelled, moving back in the process to look at the guy across the lake. There was no way that guy, with armor too big for him who still hadn’t noticed your presence, was going to slay Medusa. Caliban rolled his eyes at the dramatics of your outburst. “We can’t let him kill her.”

“Why not?” he asked. “The sooner it happens, the sooner I get back to Hell and you get back to your friends.”

“Because she didn’t deserve this. Any of this.” You gestured vaguely at the forest she’d been exiled to. “Poseidon was the one who raped her in Athena’s temple, but Medusa was the one who got cursed while he just got to go back to surfing or whatever the hell it is he does.” You shook your head. “We’re stopping this.”

“Y/N,” Caliban warned. “Messing with time is a dangerous thing.”

The warning was earnest enough, but that didn’t stop you from leaning in and giving him a once over before saying in a low voice, “I thought you had an affinity for dangerous things.” 

He seemed dismayed for a moment. Clearly, whatever he expected you to say wasn’t nearly as manipulative as it had been, and you couldn’t tell if he was impressed or betrayed by the change of heart. 

“If we intervene-” his voice was soft, like he was trying on a new way of talking to you “-we may be stuck in this time forever. Is that a risk you’re willing to take?” 

You didn’t know how to answer, but something in your face must have indicated that you were on board with the risk because Caliban took a breath and continued. 

“You need to do everything I say, and you can’t go off on your own. Understand?” 

“Don’t step off the road, got it.” 

Caliban looked at you with another inexplicable expression - maybe because you wanted to intervene, maybe because you were echoing words from the first conversations you’d ever shared - before heading off in the direction of the soldier. 

“Excuse me, traveler.” His voice boomed in the near-silent forest and you held your breath. “My betrothed and I seem to be lost. Could you spare a moment to guide us out of this infernal wood?” 

Perseus straightened as Caliban spoke, the mental assessment of the situation clear on his face. You shrunk behind Caliban, trying to hide your jeans and sweatshirt and anything else that didn’t belong in this time period behind his jeans and t-shirt and anything else that didn’t belong in this time period. But everything about Caliban fit, no matter where (or when) he was.

“Afraid not, sir,” he said, deciding that the oddness of your appearance wasn’t worth the risk. “I’m on a predestined quest. Best of luck on your travels.” 

Perseus started collecting his things to walk away but Caliban leaned down and put out a hand, careful not to make physical contact with him. While Perseus focused on the outstretched hand, Caliban touched the helmet on the ground with his other hand. “Tell us about your quest, soldier.” 

“The demon Medusa has nested in these woods. I’ve been tasked with hunting her down by the gods,” Perseus said. His face was set in a hard line, his knuckles white around the satchel in his hand. 

“Surely there have been others who’ve tried to slay the Gorgon,” Caliban said, laying on the demonic charm like only a boy with his bone structure could. 

“None like me,” Perseus said with a knowing smile. “Now, I’ll be on my way. Careful through the woods.” 

“Of course,” Caliban said, taking a step back and holding both hands palm-up to show he meant no harm. 

Though you couldn’t see it from behind his back, you knew he was giving Perseus that smile that meant he knew something the receiver didn’t. Neither of you moved as Perseus shouldered his belongings and disappeared into the trees. 

You smacked his arm lightly as Caliban turned to look at you again. “What was that?” you whispered angrily. “That wasn’t stopping him!” 

“You’ll remember Perseus was given three gifts to complete his quest,” Caliban said, in a way that (correctly) implied that you didn’t remember. “That was stealing the most important one.” He closed his eyes and held out his hands. When he opened them again, there was Perseus’ banged up helmet. “Hades’ helm of invisibility.”

“Now what?” you asked, voice quiet. The anger had completely dissipated from your voice; it had to or it would break whatever held the helmet together. 

Caliban smiled at you as he lifted the helmet over your head. He eased it down slowly, making a clear attempt not to tug at your hair. “Now we follow him straight to the Gorgon.”

---

Even though he seemed very sure of himself, you weren’t entirely sure Caliban knew what he was doing. He kept checking over his shoulder to make sure you were still there but he was met with the emptiness of the forest instead. After the first two attempts to see where you were, you reached out and curled your fingers around his to let him know you were right there. 

There. Now we won’t look suspicious.

I’m afraid that ship has sailed, love.

Then he stopped walking and raised a finger to his lips, a gesture you were slowly starting to find more endearing than annoying. “Perseus has reached the mouth of the cave,” he whispered. “Stay here and I’ll put an end to this.” 

“How will you stop him on your own?” you asked, tightening your grip on his hand when he tried to slip out of your grasp. 

“You almost sound concerned,” Caliban said, annoying smile forming on his face again as he tilted his head. You were glad he couldn’t see you blush under the helmet. “Have faith, love, I’ll be back soon.” 

If you didn’t let him leave now, you’d never live it down. Hesitantly, you let go of his hand and watched him start towards the cave, wringing out your hands as you did. How were you supposed to wait here when rule number one was to stay together? 

Technically, you thought to yourself, rule number one was to do as Caliban said, but that was never going to happen and you both knew it. Deciding that not splitting up was more important, you started following after him before you lost your nerve. 

When you eventually made it to the cave, you found Caliban and Perseus in the middle of a fistfight. Caliban dodged a blow from the sword, but it left him open to Perseus’ attack with his shield. 

“Yield, heretic!” Perseus yelled as he knocked Caliban to the floor. 

“Oh, piss off,” Caliban spat, clearly unconcerned about the sword aimed at his chest as he started pushing himself to his feet. 

You, however, were very concerned that Perseus looked ready to run him through, so you rushed forward and slammed his arm with your elbow. You managed to knock the sword out of his grip. He didn’t seem to process it for a second, but then he growled, “That helmet belongs to me, thief.” 

Perseus lunged at you, and you were caught off-guard by the accuracy of his attack. He grabbed you by the throat and had you pinned against the wall. Only a few seconds passed while he strangled the life out of you, but they were a few too many before Caliban skewered Perseus with his own sword. 

He choked out a few asphyxiated words as he dropped his hands to look at his wound, and you used his surprise to headbutt him into next week. 

“Ow!” you whined, shaking your head as Perseus fell to the ground. “I thought the helmet was supposed to protect my head.” 

“Helmets forged during the Titanomachy are hardly foolproof,” Caliban said, stepping over Perseus’ body to check on you. Or at least, where he thought you were.

He was a few inches off, and your heart melted at his attempt to touch the empty air. Lifting your hands to his, you guided him to the side of the helmet. He slipped it off gently and his bloody face broke into a smile when his eyes met yours. 

“Thanks for not letting him kill her,” you said quietly. 

A voice in your head politely reminded you that Sabrina hated him.

“Thanks for not listening to me,” Caliban said. 

You reminded the voice that Sabrina wasn’t here right now.

There was a moment where the two of you held the helm between you in silence, hands on fire at the touch. A moment where your heart raced and you hoped he’d do something more - where you thought he’d kiss you - but it disappeared as soon as the hissing started. 

“Perseus lives,” a woman said as she stepped out from the darkness of the cave. There was something in her voice that you couldn’t place. “Despite your best effort, Prince of Clay.” 

“Those really weren’t my best efforts,” Caliban said, lifting the helmet so quickly that your hands were still frozen in front of you as he set it back on your head. He shut his eyes once he was sure you were invisible.

“How noble. If I can’t see her, then I can’t turn her to stone,” Medusa cooed. You turned to look at her, praying that she was right and you wouldn’t turn into a statue. She was beautiful; soft, olive skin and round brown eyes, delicate hands and a striking face. The snakes in her hair seemed to think she was pretty, too. “But I can see you.” 

“We mean you no harm,” Caliban said. There wasn’t quite fear in his voice, but there was clear apprehension. “Perseus will rot if not treated and his quest will die with him.” 

“No, it won’t,” Medusa said. That’s when you realized what was in her voice: sadness. “There will be Perseuses as long as I petrify the ones I love. You’ve delayed this one but you haven’t stopped my fate, and you’ll be here for as long as it takes.”  

“So what do you want us to do?” Caliban asked. He opened his eyes to look the spot you were supposed to be, to make sure that you knew he was asking you, even if he spoke to Medusa. Your voice caught in your throat. “Do we go free? Leave the woods and start new lives - together?” 

Medusa was close enough to you now that she reached out a perfect hand and ran a finger along his jaw. “To return home, you need to kill me,” she said, choosing not to entertain the idea of you running away together. What a nice idea it had been. “A death with dignity is better than what these heroes have in store.” 

“The whole point of this was to make sure you wouldn’t die,” you argued before you could stop yourself. You didn’t know why; you needed to go home, but you still wanted something more. Medusa deserved something more.

“Everything dies, daughter of night,” Medusa said. She gazed where you should have been, but her eyes found nothing but the cave walls. “And everything gets reborn, if you wait long enough.” 

“Are you sure this is what you want?” Caliban asked, already gripping the sword in his hands. 

“Yes,” she said. She took a step back and closed her eyes so Caliban could look at her safely. 

“Caliban, you can’t-” 

“Don’t fear for me, little one,” Medusa said. Her snakes hissed in your direction as she comforted you. “You’ll see me again.” 

You didn’t know what else to say as Caliban raised Perseus’ sword. With one great swing, he cut off her head. The snakes’ scream shrieked in your skull as the cave faded into white, distorting everything around you again. 

“Y/N?” Caliban asked once you were back in Hell’s library. The reaper wraiths were long gone, books torn apart and strewn throughout the room. He called out for you again, this time louder and more frantic and snapping you out of your stupor. 

“I’m here, Caliban,” you said, taking off the helmet and reaching out to him. “I’m right here.”

He was still bloody and bruised, but relief flooded his face as he looked at you. “I feared I lost you to the pages in the book,” he said. His voice was softer than you’d ever heard it. 

“You almost sound concerned,” you said, tilting your head just like he had earlier. 

Caliban smiled like he knew something you didn’t and looked down at the sword in his hands, both covered in blood from the gashes in his forearms. “Perhaps I should take you back to your friends before the wraiths return,” he said, taking slow, deliberate steps towards you. 

“Perhaps,” you repeated, shifting the helmet to one hand and closing the distance between you. 

Looking up at him, you were asking him to do something. Daring him to make a move. Challenging him to let you know he felt. All these questions, and you asked them without words. 

He was looking down at you, too. Challenging you in his own, infuriating way. 

“Would you really have run away with me back there?” 

Your words hung in the air for a moment before Caliban lifted a bloody hand to the side of your face. 

Sabrina hated him.

“Funny, I was going to ask you the same thing.” 

He was looking at your lips, fingers light as they kissed your cheek. 

“I asked you first.” 

You looked at his lips, fingers less delicate as they rose to his chest. 

“Yes, you did.” 

Sabrina wasn’t here right now.

Part 5

Tag List: @peachesandknives  @caliban-is-my-girl  @t-a-i-l-o-r-m-a-d-e​  @music-movies  @miss--moose​  @marrypuffsstuff​  @harryscarolinaa​  @igorsbby​  @foji2000​  @mschfavngz​  @artaxerxesthegreat​  @thxmagic​  @luquincy  @xealia​  @hotmessindisguise​  @olivia-west-allen

[nachotrash]

MORE INCORRECT QUOTES WITH MY MOOTS

ft: @catchmewiddershins @lilikags and @paradise-creator // no haikyuu boys this time

Pauline: No more making fun of me when I misuse dated cultural references, alright? Are we cowabunga on this? Wid, sighing: Fine. We're cowabunga.

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

Pauline: We're having a baby. Shiyu: Oh, congradu- Wid, slamming adoption papers onto teh table: It's you, sign here.

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

Pauline: Why are there little handprints all over the walls? Shiyu, whispering: Why are there little handprints all over the walls? Wid, whispering: Because I have little hands. Shiyu: Because they have little hands.

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

Wid: I was born for politics. I have great hair and I love lying.

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

Lili: Life keeps fucking me and I can't remember the safeword.

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

Wid: Pros and cons of dating me. Wid: Pros. You'll be the cute one. Wid: Cons. Holy shit, where do I begin-

(cons. you're the smart one😔)

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

Shiyu: Sure, you're verified on twitter, but are you verified in the eyes of god?

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

Pauline: Theater kids are just choir kids who joined forces with the band and strings kids.

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

Shiyu: Did you just call me a shrimp, you asshole?! I'm still growing, dammit!

(*lipbites in 166 cm*)

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

Wid: I don't dab. I stab.

(nOw WhEarE HAvE i SeEn ThIs BeFoRe)

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

Shiyu: I scare people a lot because I walk very softly and they don't hear me enter rooms. So when they turn around, I'm just kind of there and their fear fuels me.

(t-pose to assert dominance)

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

Shiyu, as a child, reading their school assignment out loud: I love my library because... Shiyu, mouthing words while writing: I love reading, fuck you.

(lmao baby nacho really be bold)

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

Shiyu: The ‘how the fucks’ and 'why are you so dumbs’ don’t matter. All that matters is that I have a new gun.

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

Lili: It's not ugly, just aesthetically challenged.

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

Pauline: The last time I went to an urgent care clinic, I checked off 'excessive crying' on the symptom list, and then the nurse got really confused and said that was meant for babies.

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

Pauline: All of your existences are confusing. The Squad: How so? Pauline: Your presence is annoying, but the thought of anything bad happening to any of you upsets me.

(we are the squad now)

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

Lili: Blackmail is such an ugly word. I prefer extortion. The X makes it sound cool.

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

Wid: Real life should have a fucking search function, or something. Wid: I need my socks.

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

Pauline: New year, same me. Because I'm perfect.

(yes yes you are how dare you)

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

Shiyu: Yeah I'm LGBT. Shiyu: cuLt leader. Shiyu: God hates me personally. Shiyu: cowBoy hat. Shiyu: *sniffles* Trying my best.

(my asexual ass be like;)

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

Wid: *plays shreksophone* Wid: Woo. Wid: Time to listen to this on loop for all eternity. Shiyu: ...Genius coping mechanism my friend

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

Shiyu: Treat spiders the way you want to be treated. Pauline: Killed without hesitation.

----------

Pauline: The next time I open up to someone, it'll be my autopsy.

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

Pauline: Sometimes, I don’t realize an event was traumatic until I tell it as a funny story and notice everyone is staring at me weird.

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

Pauline: I hate Lili. Shiyu: "Hate' is a strong word. Pauline: I have strong opinions.

(oh no)

----------

Wid: How does that even work? Shiyu, mocking them: hOw dO yOu UsE a cOmPUteR aNd KnOw wHaTS GoiNg oN iT DoEsNt mAke SeNSe?! Wid: Your face doesnt make sense.

(...fair enough)

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

Pauline: Get in, loser, we’re committing vehicular manslaughter!

-----------

Pauline: My stomach growled super loud in French. Pauline: I would like to clarify, my stomach did not speak in French. It growled during French class. Shiyu: Bonjour. Lili: Le growl. Wid: Hon hon hon, feed me a baguette.

(reminds me of the 'ill speak french between your legs' tumblr legend and im wheezing)

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

Shiyu: *tapping fingers on table* Lili: *taps fingers back furiously* Wid: …What’s going on? Pauline: Morse code. They’re talking. Shiyu: -.-- ..- .-. / - …. . / -.-. ..- - . … - Lili: *slams hands on table* YOU TAKE THAT BACK!

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

Shiyu: For self defense reasons, I'm going to pretend to be a burglar and you guys have to act wisely. Wid, Lili, & Pauline: Okay. Shiyu: If you don't want to die, give me all your money. Wid: Bold of you to assume I have money. Lili: Bold of you to assume I don't want to die. Pauline: Bold of you to assume I can die.

(pauline is a goddess. goddesses cant die)

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

Lili: If I punch myself and it hurts, am I weak or strong? Wid: Strong. Shiyu: Weak. Pauline: An idiot, is what your are.

(as long as you dont flinch or scream youre strong. unless you get punched in the gut by someone like ushijima ofc)

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

Shiyu: Those darn tall old people. Wid: Darm em' indeed. Pauline: Don't worry, they'll be gone soon enough. Lili: *sharpening knife* Yes. Dead. The Squad: Lili: Hahaha. Lili: ...Is this self-destructive behaviour?

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

Wid: Oh god, they texted you ‘hi.’’ punctuation only means one thing, Pauline. They're mad at you. Pauline: No, it's Shiyu. They're just being gramatically correct! *meanwhile* Shiyu: And then I used a period so they'd know that I'm mad at them. Lili: A period doesn't say 'I'm mad', it says 'you're dead to me'. Shiyu: I stand by my choice.

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

Wid: What do we think of Shiyu? *pause* Lili: *sighs* Nice pal. Pauline: I think they're gay.

=------------

Wid: Where is Shiyu? Pauline: I'll do you one better, who is Shiyu?? Lili: Here's a better question, why is Shiyu?

(i dont know man. ive been trying to figure it out for the last few years)

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

Wid: On the count of three, what’s your favorite cake? Wid & Lili: One, two, three- Wid & Lili: Chocolate cake, peanutbutter frosting, and chocolate chunks! Shiyu: Our turn, Pauline! One, two, three- Shiyu: Vanilla! Pauline: I’ve never had cake before. What is cake?

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

Pauline: I am darkness. I am an power. I am your worst nightmare. I could kill a man in more ways than you can imagine. I am the night. I am fury, I am a weapon, I am- Wid: A doll. Shiyu: A cinnamon roll. Lili: A sweetheart. Pauline: Pauline: ...stop it.

(cant deny the truth bby)

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

Wid, Pauline & Shiyu: *screaming* Lili: *runs into the room* What's wrong, Shiyu?! Wid: Wait, why are you asking Shiyu that when Pauline and I are also here? Lili: Because Shiyu wouldn't scream unless it's an emergency. You two scream whenever you have the chance.

(i mean... its true )

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

Pauline: What’s wrong? You look 10 seconds away from ripping someone’s throat out. Wid: Fucking Shiyu and Lili were trying to invoke one of the minor gods again last night. I didn't get an ounce of sleep, thanks to their bloody chanting.

(manifests dvalin cause i wanna ride on their back and fall off)

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

Lili: Wake me up- Wid: Before you go go Shiyu: When September ends Pauline: WAKE ME UP INSIDE

(cant wake up- WAKE ME UP INSIDE)

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

Shiyu, watching Pauline & Lili panic : What's going on? Wid: Pauline is having a midlife crisis and Lili is just having a crisis.

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

Lili: *Gasp* Pauline: wHAT?? Lili: What if soy milk is just milk introducing itself in Spanish? Pauline: *inhales* Wid, in another room with Shiyu: Why can I hear screeching?

(shiyu: same shit different day)

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

Shiyu: Christmas is cancelled. Wid: You can't cancel a holiday. Shiyu: Keep it up, Wid, and you'll lose New Year's too. Wid: What does that mean? Shiyu: Lili, take New Year's away from Wid.

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

Pauline: So, are they your friend or... Lili: They’re like Wid, but if Wid was ordered to be around you. Pauline: Oh, so Shiyu. Lili: Precisely!

(if its about how annoyed i always look then you ahve a point)

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

Wid: You’re just being paranoid. Again. Pauline: When have I been paranoid? Wid: Um, when you first met Lili you thought they were an undercover cop…? Pauline: No one has a wart that big, I thought it was a surveillance camera! Wid: And last year you were sure Shiyu was a mermaid! Pauline: They hate wearing shirts! COINCIDENCE?! *Later, when Pauline’s theory is proven wrong* Wid: Do you have anything to say for yourself? Pauline: I still think Shiyu is a mermaid.

(id gladly be one)

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

*Wid drunkenly wanders around the manor and Lili is drunkenly giggling* Shiyu, completely sober: *sighs* Well, looks like it's just me and you against the wold, Pauline. Pauline, going to their room: Nope, just you. *shuts door*

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

Wid: We need to distract these guys. Lili: Leave it to me. Lili: Centaurs have six limbs and are therefore insects. Discuss. Pauline & Shiyu: *immediately begin arguing*

(*pulls out dictionary*)

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

Police: You’re under arrest for trying to carry three people on a single motorcycle. Shiyu, with Wid and Lili behind them: Wait, what do you mean THREE?! Police: Yes…three. Shiyu: Oh, my God— What the fuck!? Police: Wha- Shiyu: Pauline FUCKING FELL OFF!

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

Wid: What is love? Pauline: An emotional minefield. Shiyu: A neurochemical reaction. Lili: Baby don't hurt me.

(BECAUSE FUCK EMOTIONS)

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

Pauline: I currently have 7 empty notebooks and I have no idea what to put in them. Any suggestions? Wid: Put spaghetti in it. Pauline: I am currently taking suggestions from everyone but you. Lili: Put spaghetti in it. Pauline: I am currently taking suggestions from everyone but you two. Shiyu: Put spaghetti in it. Pauline: I am no longer taking suggestions.

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

Shiyu, pointing to the wall: What color is this? Pauline: Gray. Lili: Grey. Shiyu, turning to Wid: Now tell them what color you think it is. Wid: Dark white.

[lizzylunawizardessfanfics]

Changing History?

Pairing: Demeter!Klaus X Hades!Lizzy

Summary: It was very clear that there was a long history of generations of Demeters and Hades hating one another. being this generation's Hades, Lizzy wished to put the past to rest and try to befriend Demeter. Will her efforts pay off, will Klaus give Lizzy the chance to prove herself, or will the continuous loop keep repeating itself.

Warning: Angstish

“Shut in!”

“Control freak!”

“Troublemaking demon!”

“Oohh now we’re calling me a demon, real nice one you egotistical jerk!” Lizzy shouted her pastel blue hair floating in the hair and started to turn into blue flames. Letting out a sigh I could only standby and watch as Lizzy and my brother argued; I really wished he wouldn’t instigate her as I couldn’t help but feel bad for her, no matter how hard she tried to be nice whenever Klaus showed up he’d act coldly towards her. “Oh come now calm down you living candlestick,” I heard Klaus dryly say when instantly I heard Lizzy let out a small gasp. “Kl-Demeter that’s enough,” I quickly shouted as I had to remember to not use his mortal name as despite my attempts to put an end to the arguing I was ignored.

“I am NOT a living candlestick first of all! And calm down? Calm down?! You don’t get to come into my domain and tell ME to calm down when you’re the one who started this all,” she shouted as her hair started to fall back down going back to normal after a moment after taking a deep breath. “I’ve done nothing but try to be nice and to be civil yet every time you come here you’re just mean,” she continued letting out a huff before starting to walk over to me as I saw the fake smile taking form on her face. “Goodbye Lizzy,” I said, giving a small smile of my own hugging my friend as I felt her return it as well. “Goodbye Lias, please do take care. I shall see you again in six months,” she said while pulling away from the hug giving my arms a small squeeze before completely stepping away from me. “Persephone let's go,” I heard my brother say in a strict voice and when I walked forward to leave with him I couldn’t help but glance back once more but she was nowhere to be seen, just the falling of dead flower petals that almost resembled ash.

Once upon arrival back home in the world of the living it hasn’t been five minutes back and Klaus was already asking a million questions about if I was okay or if she tried to do anything. Letting out a frustrated sigh I dropped my shoulders letting out a quick “no, no, and no. Now will you stop asking please, the answer is the same as always.” He looked at me and pinched the bridge of his nose which I folded my arms over my chest and stared at him. “What, what’s that look for,” I heard him ask in which I took a deep breath as it was taking everything in me to finally speak my mind. “What you said back there was uncalled for, and quite honestly I’m mad you hurt her feelings,” I said getting to the point as this truly needed to stop, he needed to see he was in the wrong.

“Persephone the only thing that god feels is anger, she does not need your pity.”

“I’m not pitying her and that isn’t true, but then again what do you know? You haven’t even made an attempt to get to know her!”

“Pardon me, do not raise your voice to me!”

“You don’t get it Klaus! She’s my best friend and all she wants is to be able to get along with you and maybe even be your friend, yet here you are pushing her away before giving her the time of day,” I argued back letting out a huff.

~~~ Klaus’ POV ~~~

Blinking I looked at my younger brother in shock as he got loud with me as he certainly has never been like this before. Letting out a small scoff and to think he was standing up for the god of the Underworld, it didn’t matter how many Hades come and go; they will all be the same.

“Apologize.”

“Pardon me- what?’

“You’re going to go and apologize to her.”

“I will do no such thing.”

“Fine then, I just won’t talk to you until you do so,” Elias said, turning around and starting to walk away from me. “Persephone,” I called his name, but he showed no sign of turning around. Letting out a small growl when I no longer saw him in sight, I couldn’t believe it's come to this. Standing there for a moment I finally gave in and created a portal to go speak with the god.

Arriving back into the gloomy and fiery surroundings I was approached by one of the denizens with a weapon in its hands. “State your business! You’ve already collected the goddess so what could you need from our queen,” it demanded in a questioning manner. “I’ve come… Seeking an audience with Hades,” I said pausing as I couldn’t believe I was doing this. “Follow me then,” the demon said after a brief pause, lowering its weapon and starting to lead the way which I silently followed. Walking through the castle I looked around as admittedly it looked a lot cleaner than how it looked when the last Hades was in control. Moments after walking we entered what looked to be the study room or a library. “The queen will be with you momentarily. Do not touch or break anything,” the demon announced before giving the warning and closing the doors after it left. Rolling my eyes I looked around and decided to examine a few things to kill time.

Over the large fireplace was the mural of Hades herself with her three headed hellhound, she had a soft smile yet it didn’t match the sad look in her eyes- no, no, I wasn’t going to be another fool falling for any tricks or lies. Walking around the room I stopped by the table that had a closed book that caught my attention. Leaning over I read the cover: The Hades tales: Lizette as on the spine of the book after I picked it up I noticed it had engraved 2019 -, so it was pretty much like the book I received when I started. Looking around to see if anyone was in the room I looked back down and opened it to read a little, this would be the best way to get insight on any evil plans she could be plotting.

Entry 4:

Another failed day of attempting to leave the Underworld; it’s official I’m stuck in this fire hole. Though now that I’m apparently a god, goddess? Eh whatever I am I cannot help but wonder about my mortal life; actually I couldn’t help but wonder if I’m here because I died. Not like I’m going to get any answers from anyone or anything for that matter. It’s going to take a while to get used to all of this and all of the duties, but hopefully things will go alright.

Rolling my eyes I continued to flip through a couple more pages till I stopped on another entry.

Entry 17:

I’ve finally managed to restore the garden! Even if many of the plants and flowers are dead or deadly they still deserve to be tended to like any other. Things haven’t been easy, but I’m grateful to the other gods who reside here that have pointed me in the right direction of what I should be doing. As I’ve become very proud of myself; I have declared that depending on the judgments of the souls that appear here that those who are deserving of a second chance will be reincarnated. Though I cannot control how they are reborn, at least they can watch over their loved ones to see them grow… It can only get me thinking of what will become of me when my time comes: will I get to be reborn into a new life or will I just disappear and cease to exist to be forgotten for an eternity with only the tales from this book be all that is left of me.

It was much to my surprise that I learned that she wasn’t keeping the souls condemned here, no wonder why it doesn’t feel as congested as it has in the past. My eyes softened at the words of how she questioned what happens after this life that not even I have really even thought of it that way. Peeking around there was still no sign of anyone in the room so I continued to read through. Then I came upon a more recent entry that looked very long.

Entry 60:

Truly I don’t know why I bother anymore, why do I continue to put the effort into befriending Demeter; I’ve easily given up on befriending the others who dislike me for the very same reason as his… Maybe because it’s simply because Demeter is Elias’ brother, but regardless it shouldn’t hurt so much every time he insults me and there are days where I can take it but even then I can only take so much. I fully understand I cannot change the history of what’s taken place, but that doesn’t mean it has to keep repeating itself right? To whoever reads this after-

“Oh what do I owe the return of the goddess of harvest,” I heard the familiar voice that disrupted my reading and quickly looked up to find where the god was to see her walking across the other side of the table. Before I could even speak I heard her say, “Oh don’t tell me, maybe you’ve come back to remind me just how much you despise me. Or maybe how you hope I rot in hell; oh wait I’m already doing so haha.” She had a straight face as the flat laugh at her own poor joke, the laughter that sounded nothing like the ones that I’d hear whenever she spoke to Elias. Clearing my throat I responded, “I never seek to be making returns here unless it’s for my brother, but no I haven’t returned to simply insult you… I’ve come to apologize.” Hearing that laugh from before I watched as she leaned against the wall and folded her arms with a raised eyebrow.

“You coming to apologize to me, surely it isn’t of your own accord... Let me guess, dear sweet Lias got angry with you and threatened you. To which of course god forbid you’re ever on his bad side that you’d pretty much do whatever to be in his good graces again,” she said pretty much hitting the mark. “Regardless if you are correct or not I’ve come to apologize and then be on my way,” I simply replied to which I saw her baby blue eyes roll. “Then don’t bother apologizing to me. Tell him whatever you wish, but I don’t want empty apologies. I’ve said my apologies and I’m tired of repeating myself so I won’t any more,” she outright told me as I blinked a couple of times not having expected that from her. “Whether you accept it or not I apologize for my… Rudeness,” I apologized for the sake of doing it though seeing her like this gave me an odd feeling.

I noticed her eyebrows knitting together as she was looking at me until I saw her making her way over to me. “Why do you have my book?! Give that to me,” she loudly asked before coming right up to me and snatching her book back and holding it close to her. Looking at her I think this was the first time we were ever this close and actually looking at her… Did she always look this pretty? “I thought reading it would give me insight to see if you were planning anything evil… But from the few I have read there was nothing sinister I could see. Forgive me for intruding into your personal book,” I said honestly before again apologizing though this time I was serious. She was silent with a pout on her face while looking me in the eyes, seeming to debate something mentally before soon enough a small sigh left her lips. Snapping myself out of whatever trance I felt myself slipping into I cleared my throat. “Yes well. Now that things have been settled… I shall be taking my leave,” I said excusing myself as with that I’ve used my powers to head back home.

~~~~~~

There were times when Persephone would grow bored and demand to go visit Hades; however it hasn't been six months yet, so I would take it upon myself to accompany my brother to make sure he would not stay too long. Of course I’d keep my distance, but watching the two interact slowly over time I came to see that their relationship was as my brother had said many times in the past, purely platonic. She certainly was a strange Hades as she never really behaved like one, but I wasn’t going to admit that out loud. Of course we still argued and fought as there were occasions I’d be forced to take part in the conversations the two would have; very much like the one they were having at this moment during tea.

“Again? To think Hercules would keep trying at this point,” I listened to my brother comment about her story from the other day. “You don’t think he could be in love with you,” was the next thing I heard my brother bring up only to hear Hades' laughter instantly afterwards. “Oh lord I hope not haha. Don’t get me wrong, when he isn’t trying to swing his blade at me Ted can be nice… He’s just not that bright,” she replied instantly before adding on “And besides let’s be honest; who is going to love me, of all gods romantically?” Letting that comment sink in I couldn’t help but feel this strange pit in my stomach.

“Well what about Rex? You’ve been telling me how you two were writing letters back and forth as of lately,” Elias brought up possibly trying to prove a point or something. Exactly knowing who my brother was talking about: the goddess of good counsel, Themis. Hades only seemed to shake her head in a no manner. “Or what about Vain? He comes to visit often no; surely a man with that kind of dedication to make time for you is bound to harbor feelings for you right,” Elias seemed adamant to prove her statement wrong. A name of a god I did not like; Kratos was a man I did not care for nor did I get along well with, but why did the possible thought of the brute being involved so closely to Hades bother me so much? It wasn’t like I myself harbored any feelings towards the lonely god... She simply shrugged her shoulders resting her chin into the palm of her hand.

“Yes he comes to visit when he pleases and brings the heads of his enemies as an ‘offering’ to give to me… But I really don’t think it has any more meaning behind it,” she said, shooting down that idea in a heartbeat. An exaggerated sigh came from Elias as he stood up from his seat before saying, “Lizzy there is someone for everyone, just because it isn’t now doesn’t mean that being doesn’t exist. Now pardon me I shall be right back.” With that my brother started to walk away from the table and exited the room with creaking doors closing behind him now just leaving just us.

A silence filled the room only hearing the soft crunch sound of Hades taking a bite of some fruit. Glancing over to her, her gaze was down at the plate I found myself carefully looking at her; how her pastel blue hair cascaded down off her shoulders like a waterfall, the way she delicately ate the slices of fruit. It was almost hard to believe this was the same god I was supposed to hate. Deciding to break the silence I softly cleared my throat and asked, “Do you really think no one would ever love you?” Watching as she picked up her head I noticed an eyebrow raise up when looking at me. “Why would it matter to you? Actually I’m surprised you haven’t agreed with me already and added how I’m just simply an unlovable god,” I listened to her say instead of actually answering my question while slouching in her seat and crossing her arms over her chest. Internally I couldn’t help but wince, honestly hearing her say that so openly felt like a jab to the chest; however I guess that was my own fault for how I’ve mistreated her.

“Lizette list-” I began to talk trying to call her by her mortal name until she cut me off.

“Don’t call me that.”

“What?”

“I have no attachment to that name. Just because it’s written in my book doesn’t mean I have any memories of that name so it means nothing to me. And besides I didn’t think we were anywhere near a mortal name basis,” Lizzy proceeded to explain. I didn’t answer right away trying to find how to properly say what I wanted without sounding rude. “You’re right we weren’t… But I’ve been seeing what my brother has been trying to tell me, I realized I’ve hurt you a lot because I didn’t want to believe that a being could change how a god is supposed to be,” I started off with but didn’t stop there. “I know we fight because of me, because it was all I knew with how all the stories from past Demeters' I’ve read yet… Here you were trying to make that difference and I kept fighting it. I’m sorry Lizzy,” I finished talking and apologized in the end even if she didn’t accept it. After that things got a little bit easier, not perfect but better than the beginning.

~~~~~~

It was a new month as of course it was that time again where the god of thunder threw his monthly get together. “Are you ready,” I called out asking my younger brother as I hated going to these gatherings every single time as unfortunately Albert would never allow me to skip one, speaking of skipping I could only wonder if the ruler of the Underworld herself would be going. Hearing footsteps I saw Elias join me giving a nod of the head in a yes manner so with that I made our portal to Olympus. Greeted by the familiar surroundings already many of the gods and goddesses present greeted us while we made our way to the ballroom. Many were dancing or mingling, crowded as usual. “It seems that she isn’t here yet,” I heard Elias mutter under his breath as it was obvious that he was looking around for Lizzy. “Perhaps she decided to skip this month's party again,” I simply stated as that was one of the things I’ve envied about her; she managed to skip out on countless parties until the god of thunder himself goes to force her to come.

“Ah you made it, it’s so great to see the both of you,” the sound of the all too familiar cheerful voice was already making me feel slightly annoyed. Turning to where the voice was coming from and much to my surprise there Albert was with Lizzy right beside him, she didn’t look all too happy about being here; though then again I couldn’t blame her. Instantly Elias and her greeted each other with a hug as seeing her smile caused a small stir in my chest. There was a brief moment when our eyes met as I wasn’t completely sure how to react so I gave a small nod of my head along with a slight smile which she returned with an awkward one of her own. “Well as usual I hope you guys enjoy yourselves! If you pardon me Elias I’ll be borrowing her for a little bit,” Albert said, wrapping his arm around her shoulders bringing her to him. “Do I really need to dance, I thought making an appearance would have sufficed,” she asked while getting dragged away. “It won’t kill you to loosen up and dance once in a while Lizzy dear! Besides I’ve missed your company,” I could hear Albert say as soon enough disappeared into the crowd of gods and goddesses.

A small scoff came out as I felt myself slightly getting more irritated by Albert’s actions than normal. “Brother are you alright,” I heard Elias’ voice bring me back as I looked over to him. Giving a curt nod of my head I replied, “Of course I am, why wouldn’t I be?” He seemed to give me a questioning look and seemed to shrug his shoulders lightly. “It just seemed like something was bothering you is all,” Elias said as I didn’t really do or say anything to his comment. After him excusing himself to go off to walk around I was left on my own finding myself to lean against one of the columns watching everyone dancing. That was when I got a glimpse of Albert and Lizzy dancing together and it only seemed to put me in even a worse mood seeing them together so close. Was this my punishment for how I poorly treated her in the past, was this to feel the pain that she’s felt herself; regardless it wasn’t pleasant. I tried to do everything I could to not feel anything for the ruler of the Underworld, yet here I was in love with her and it hurt. As the party progressed I found myself slightly drinking as I could only watch from the distance while Lizzy was currently chatting with Albert, Elias, and Rex as she looked like she was enjoying the conversation.

“So this is where you’ve been the whole time,” I heard the annoyingly cheerful voice of Hermes in my ear as I didn’t bother to look at him. “Not now Hermes I’m really not in the mood to really converse with anyone,” I stated wishing he’d simply go away. “Aw come now don’t be a party pooper! Oh are you watching your brother with Lizzy and them, Elias was telling me that you and Lizzy have been slowly getting along better,” He rambled on as I let out a sigh. It was when I noticed Kratos himself joining their group and greeted her with a hug, even going as far as kissing the top of her hand; nope I have had enough of watching this. Ditching my drink I simply started to walk over to them leaving Hermes on his own to his own rambling. As I drew closer I seemed to have caught the groups’ attention as Albert seemed to open his mouth. “Ah Klaus so you decided to join us! I was just about to go looking for you,” he said, wearing that usual happy smile that I hated, it always seemed so fake. I didn’t respond while I simply went up to Lizzy and grabbed her upper arm though making sure not to hurt her before starting to pull her away. “Come with me,” I said having mixed feelings as maybe having a few sips of that drink wasn’t a good idea. “Hey what are you doing?! Demeter what’s gotten into you,” I heard her asking while I just kept walking until we were alone out on one of the balconies.

Feeling the cool air against my warm face felt refreshing and helped me recollect myself a little. Feeling her arm rip out of my grasp I looked down at her as she had a confused yet stern look on her face. “Demeter what was that all about,” she questioned me, her arms now crossed.

~~~~~~

Back inside Elias was glancing over at Albert with a concerned look on his face. “Are you sure it was a good idea to take it that far,” Elias asked which Albert simply gave a small chuckle and gave the goddess of Spring a pat on the head. “Everything will work out one way or another. Besides, if he wasn’t given that push then what would have given him the drive to be honest with how he feels,” Albert said plainly as Vain showing up wasn’t a part of the god of thunder’s plans, but it seemed to help. Elias let out a small sigh before saying, “I sure hope so.”

~~~~~~

“Stop calling me Demeter,” I said instead of answering her question.

“Wait what? Then what do you want me to call you… Are you feeling alright?”

“I said stop calling me Demeter, I want you to call me Klaus,” I repeated myself but not stopping there. “Before you say anything I know- I know there was a time when I said I never would be on a mortal name basis with you, but I take that back.” She looked at me shocked with her baby blue eyes but after a moment they went back to normal. “If… That was all you wanted to say, that's fine but that didn’t call for you storming over and dragging me off like you did,” she replied. I felt my heart banging against my chest, taking a deep breath. I said, “But that isn’t all I have to say… I like you Lizzy, I’m in love with you.” All was silent except the winds blowing past and the faint sound of the music playing inside. “That isn’t funny,” I heard her say as now I was confused. “What,” I asked in return. “If- if this is some twisted sick joke of your’s it isn’t funny kay! Don’t go saying you love me if you don’t because I won’t be able to take it,” She explained as I could hear the cracking in her voice. “For the longest time I’ve been convincing myself to move on because I knew I never stood a chance, that you’d forever hate me because of who I am! So please- please don’t say you love me if it’s just a lie,” she continued as I felt my heart ache and sting as if pricked by needles; tears were falling down her face.

I walked up to her cupping her face in my hands to wipe her tears away. “I love you. I’m so sorry that I was so cruel to you, that for so long I just pushed you away and no amount of apologizing will make the things I’ve said go away… But I can only hope that you’d allow me to prove to you that I am serious,” I said, looking at her this close under the moonlight she was even more beautiful than usual. “Why now, what made you have a change of heart,” she asked, feeling her smaller hands overlap my own. “Because when I finally did take the moment to give you a chance I saw what a good person you were, you really aren’t like any of the Hades that came before you. For some time I kept my distance in fear of the possibility I grew attached; I’ve read past Persephones’ books and I found out their happiest days were with their Hades… And if I had to suppress my own feelings for the sake of my brother’s happiness I was willing to do so,” I said explaining myself as it felt good to get this all off my chest. “So… Will you give me a chance,” I asked patiently awaiting her response. A minute or two passed until she gave a small nod in a yes manner before I felt myself smiling with joy. Leaning down I pressed my lips to her soft ones; she slightly smelt of pears and honey. Pulling away I felt myself finally feel completely calm and relaxed which I felt her slim arms wrap around me completing the embrace.

“Could we stay out here a little while longer?”

“Hehe sure Klaus; I could use a break from being in there anyway.”

[littlemisslol-fic]

Summary: Two years after the events of Barviel Keep, Varian has tried to adapt to the expectations brought by being a King’s Ward, with mixed results. Haunted by ghosts, Varian is forced to face the demons he tried to leave behind in Bayangor when his abdication is forcibly stopped by a third party, out for revenge against the Bayan Royal bloodline. On the run, with few allies left to turn to, Varian finds himself chasing a ghost through a series of tests that only a true heir of Demanitus could ever hope to pass.But the shadows are ever present, looming and dark, and not everything is as simple as it might seem.

Notes: It's KICKIN OFF OH LORD

If there were a word to describe Pincosta, Varian would have to pick bland. It was picturesque, quaint little streets lined with quaint little cobblestones, tiny houses clustered around perfect market squares. It was a perfectly maintained hamlet, adorable and ready to be slapped on a postcard. The people were well mannered, even under the blistering heat of the mid-afternoon sun. Pincosta was charming, delightful, even.

It was also irritatingly saccharine.

Varian grumbled as Rapunzel pulled him along the street, her hand tight on his wrist. He couldn’t help but look over his shoulder, unable to shake the feeling of eyes on him. Eugene was nearby, making room up ahead as they walked through the quiet streets. People milled about around them, going about their afternoon with a sort of quiet calm. Eventually they came to a stop in front of a medium sized building, a large set of stone stairs up in front of it. Eugene went right in, leaving Varian and the princess outside. Rapunzel finally let go of his hand, spinning to face him with a forced grin.

“Okay, Varian, you stay here while Eugene and I speak to Constable Lumph,” Rapunzel said, her eyes darting around the cramped streets. “Just for a second.”

Varian arched a brow at her, tilting his head. “Don’t you want someone to go and get supplies?” he asked, “For when we go back?”

“When Eugene and I go back-” Rapunzel’s tone was unimpressed, “We’ll get our own supplies. After Vardaros I don’t want to risk it.”

“Oh, c’mon!” Varian argued, “I can just go into a market, it’s not even that far; there’s like, six people-”

“Varian.” Oof, that was her big sister voice. “No. Thank you. Please just stay where I know you’re safe.”

Varian rolled his eyes but nodded his assent, leaning against the thick stone wall of the constable’s headquarters. “Fine, whatever.” He muttered, looking away from her. Rapunzel’s face fell at the attitude, but Varian heard her sigh and step up onto the stairs leading to the front door.

“Thank you,” she murmured, “We won’t be long.”

Varian grunted something that could be acknowledgement, but could have also just been him clearing his throat. Rapunzel sighed again, and Varian heard the shifting of the old stone stairs as she entered the building. Eugene was probably already bullying the constable for something he’d done last time the pair had been in the town- Varian honestly forgot, he’d heard the story once and even then, it was mostly to fill him in on where Cass had gone- though, they’d left the vast majority of the details glossed over.

Varian huffed, shifting on his feet. No one ever seemed to want to tell him anything unless it was life or death, and to be honest, it was just bits and pieces. Not his dad, not Frederick and Arianna. Not Rapunzel. Something bitter in him made him roll his eyes at the thought.

He waited a minute, then two. The heat of the midday had started to pick up; between that and the ring of raccoon currently wrapped around his neck, Varian can’t help but feel a little warm. He risks a peek back to the door Rapunzel had disappeared behind, thinking. Sure, Rapunzel had said to stay… but Varian was going insane with this whole protect the babyschtick. He was perfectly capable of taking care of himself, thank you very much.

It was a little insulting, this idea that Rapunzel had that Varian was completely useless- when he was younger, especially after Bayangor, Varian had appreciated it. Hell, he’d even craved it, that idea that someone he loved was willing to deal with him without complaint and push the bad things away. He’d needed it, honestly, needed someone to stand between him and the difficult parts of life, even just to filter out the worst of it. But in circumstances like this, when it was all hands on deck, Varian was rendered effectively useless.

And it made him bitter.

The door didn’t open; Rapunzel would probably be in there for hours. Varian bit his lip a little, thinking to himself. He wanted to be useful, even if she was determined to sideline him. Maybe if he went and got the supplies himself, quick and quiet, Rapunzel would get off his case… Or at least, maybe she would stop thinking he was totally inept. Varian’s mind latched to the thought, and he made his choice. With a movement that was almost casual, he pushed himself off the wall and started walking.

“C’mon Ruddiger,” Varian muttered, “Let’s go make ourselves useful.”

The raccoon chittered in concern, looking frantically back towards the constable’s office. Varian felt his pet pulling on his hair, but ignored it. Ruddiger tried once more to direct Varian’s attention back to the office, only to get a pat on the head. Varian winced when Ruddiger nipped at him, his fingers retreating.

“No, listen,” he said, shaking his stinging hand. “Just in and out, ten-minute adventure. We’ll show Rapunzel who’s defenseless.”

The people of Pincosta were generally pleasant. The town center reminded Varian of Old Corona in a way, if the people were a little less farmerand a little more miner. He liked it, wandering through the streets, feeling normal for the first time in years. Back in Corona he’d never been allowed outside the castle without an escort of some kind, be it a subtle one- like Eugene or Rapunzel insisting on joining him- or an unsubtle one- like Frederic’s ordering Stan and Pete to dog his footsteps like loyal hounds.

He’d missed it, more that he thought he would. The ability to mesh with crowds, to disappear into the throng of faces. To slip in the cracks of the public, vanish like a ghost. Amongst the people, he wasn’t a target, wasn’t a forced heir or a missing child. Here he was just Varian, and something in him settled at the ability to shrug off the status like a musty cloak.

Varian weaved through the crowd, slipping between miners and townsfolk with a small grin. How novel to be able to walk like a normal person again- like he was back home, like Barviel Keep had never happened, like Aldred had never existed…

Like Quirin was home, waiting for him to walk in the door.

Varian coughed roughly. He shook his head, working his way through the main street of the town. Ruddiger perked up at the smells wafting from a nearby bakery, but Varian rolled his eyes and scratched behind the raccoon’s ears again.

“No, buddy, supplies.” Varian laughed, “No cupcakes.”

The animal pulled his biggest puppy dog eyes, but Varian wasn’t convinced. He dipped in and out of a few stores, the money purse he’d nicked out of the bag weighing heavy in his pocket. Varian wasn’t sure exactly where the things they needed were- all of Pincosta’s main stores seemed to be specializing in kitschy souvenirs and housewares- but surely the people needed to eat, so it was just a matter of finding the grocers.

Varian huffed as he left the fourth store, growing frustrated. Maybe he was useless. He sighed, despairing as the maze of keepsakes and clutter vendors grew around him. It seemed like he couldn’t even find food without someone to hold his hand and show him the way. He ducked around a stall, kicking at a loose stone and watching it clatter across the cobblestones; it had been nearly an hour and he was still empty handed, how pathetic. Even Ruddiger seemed fed up, the raccoon draped over his shoulders limply.

Varian wandered to the center of the square, where a large fountain stood. It was an ornate thing, carved to look like flowers and stars surrounding a beautiful, muscular woman, holding a pickaxe out to the sky. He knew the people here followed a deity called Vaara, said to be a goddess of the earth. Made about as much sense as worshipping the Sun, Varian supposed, though he knew the Sundrop had been very real.

He looked over the edge of the fountain, peeking in with a small air of curiosity. He could see coins settled on the bottom, the white limestone bright and clean. Varian could see his own reflection looking back at him, rippling in the water from small streams tossed through the air. He looked pretty much the same as always, maybe a little more exhausted than normal, but nothing out of the ordinary. His gaze drifted up towards his hair, the boy scowling as he saw his hair stripe peeking out from the hood of Quirin’s cloak.

With a rough movement Varian shoved the hair behind his ear, the mass of it irritating under the hood, but hidden, at least. He looked back down into the fountain, smiling softly as Ruddiger reached small paws down as if to grab the water-

Which is why Varian saw the reflection of a dark, looming shadow rear up behind him, and was able to dodge its grabbing hands by the breath of an inch.

Varian spun out of the figure’s reach, snatching Ruddiger off his shoulders and hugging the animal as he backed away. The figure- a woman- smiled at him, a bearing of teeth that scared Varian more than he’d like to think. She looked to be about Eugene’s age, with roughly buzzed hair, short and black and roughly cut. Most startling thing about her, however, was her set of very familiar, toxic green eyes.

“Damn,” she muttered, drawing closer. Varian backed off as fast as he could without tripping, hugging Ruddiger tight. “Aw, what-” she leered closer to him, green eyes glowing even in the shadow of the fountain, “You scared, little crow?”

“Call it more rightfully nervous.” Varian snapped, but was surprised when the woman laughed.

“Fair,” she conceded, “Very fair.”

There was a tense second of silence between the two of them. The woman shifted on her heels, looking Varian up as if sizing up a competitor. The halberd on her back caught the sunlight, a blinding flash of metal that made Varian wince. The market around them seemed unaware of the standoff going on, the people still milling about. Though, the woman’s posture was deceptively casual; Varian couldn’t help but think of Cassandra, how she walked without a care, but was really constantly tense and ready to fight. It made him nervous.

“You know, I expected more,” she commented, pursing her lips. “At least, for Aldred’s heir.”

Varian bristled at that, scowling. “Sorry to disappoint.” He tried to start backing away, stopping when she moved forwards to maintain the distance between them. She paused as he did, cocking her head to the side.

“You know this isn’t going to end well for you, right?” She asked him, as if talking to a toddler. It made Varian all the angrier, the cold wash of fear slipping away and turning to furious indignation. She didn’t seem to care, looking ready to laugh as Varian fumed. “You’re adorable.” She cooed, crossing her arms. “But I can promise that if you try and fight me, I’ll drag you back to my brother missing at least one limb. We don’t need you in one piece, after all.”

Ruddiger hissed at her again, his fur puffing up until the racoon looked nearly double his usual size. Varian inched his hand towards his pocket, stalling for time. Stupid, he thought to himself, stupid, stupid- Rapunzel’s going to have a fit.

“You’re his sister then?” Varian asked the woman, “What, is the whole family out to kill me?”

“What’s left of it,” she shrugged. Her expression was bitter. “Merrick’s young. He needed guidance after what Aldred did to our family.”

Oh, it always came back to that son of a bitch, didn’t it-

“And what?” Varian asked, “You think I’m just going to go with you?”

“I was hoping you would,” she replied. The air of calm surrounding her was borderline infuriating. “But if I have to kill the princess and her husband to make you cooperate… well, no skin off my nose.”

Varian felt his breath hitch in his chest. He’d seen the chaos and bloodshed the Bayans had caused when they’d attacked Corona; he knew she wasn’t threatening lightly. He just needed more time-

“You wouldn’t dare...” He paused, not knowing her name. She caught on, arching a brow.

“Cerise,” she said, her tone flat. Varian nodded.

“Cerise.” Sun, the manners Quirin had instilled in him were so annoying- “I’m Varian.”

“I’m aware.” She looked confused now, tilting her head. “You are an odd one, I’ll give you that.”

Varian couldn’t find it within himself to argue- he only shrugged. She huffed out what might have been a laugh, if not for the smug undertones of a cat who’d caught a mouse.

“You have a choice, here.” Cerise stepped forwards, closing the gap between them just a little more. “Are you going to come quietly, like a good little boy, or am I bringing you back to my baby brother in pieces?”

Varian tensed, his shaking fingers finally touching one of his last alchemical bombs in his pocket. He gently took it in hand, trying to seem nonchalant as the Bayan woman drew closer. “I can’t say either of those would end very well for me,” he told her, trying again to back away. Her face was amused, but in a way that seemed condescending. He felt his rabbit beat heart threatening to burst from his chest with how fast it was going, but Varian forced himself to remain nonchalant; if he panicked now, he’d lose any shot of getting away from her.

“Probably not,” she agreed, like they were discussing afternoon tea. She was getting too close, he had to act quickly. With every step she took he felt his shaking get worse- he nearly fumbled the bomb in his own pocket, nerves finally getting the best of him. Varian grit his teeth, his grip tightening on the smooth glass.

Varian took one more step back, roughly ripping the alchemical weapon from his pocket and throwing it at her. Cerise let out a yell as it exploded at her feet, a plume of noxious green smoke surrounding her instantly. Varian could hear her coughing, could see her frame stumbling through the smoke like she was drunk.

But he didn’t stick around long enough to see what happened next.

With speed he didn’t know he had, the alchemist turned and bolted from the square, Ruddiger situated on his shoulders with a strong grip. He could hear people scream, frantic footsteps everywhere as the citizens fled the market. Varian heard the Bayan behind him shout in rage as he vanished, deliberately weaving between the crowd and disappearing from view The streets of Pincosta flew by as he ran, a blur of brown and dull greys in the bleak morning sun.

“Oh shit,” Varian muttered to himself as he ran. His lungs burned, legs ached- between all the walking and the lack of food, he wasn’t exactly in peak performance- but Varian refused to stop. “Oh shit, oh shit, oh shit.” He could hear people yelling behind him, the smoke probably still thick, even in such a large, open space as the main market.

Varian kept running, leaving it behind. Sun, he’d been so stupid-

The constable’s office loomed before him, only a block away from the market. His heart soared at the thought of backup, nearly sobbing with relief at the sight of the stone steps. He raced to the steps, skidding to a stop in front of them. The dust puffed up under his boots, nearly making him slip into the dirt, but he managed to catch himself with a pivot of his ankle.

“We may have made a miscalculation, Ruddiger.” The boy gasped through heaving breaths. The raccoon grumbled his agreement, clinging tighter as Varian sprinted up the stairs two at a time; the alchemist didn’t care enough to take his time. He didn’t even bother to knock, shoving the door open and falling into the room beyond. He just caught sight of Rapunzel’s purple dress before hitting the wooden floors. Varian grunted as he fell, twisting to kick the door closed behind him with a deafening BANG.

“We’re in trouble!” He crowed into the room, uncaring as to what he may have interrupted.

“What?!” Eugene. The man had been leaning back on a chair, his feet propped up on a table. He dropped his boots to the floor, the two air born legs of his chair quickly following. They landed with a thunk on the wooden floors. Eugene stood quickly, gaze already shifting towards the door. “What do you mean trouble, kid? Please tell me the trash cat got caught stealing again-”

“It’s one of the Bayans.”

Eugene’s face fell into a grimace, the man looking tired. “Of course it is,” he muttered to himself. Rapunzel took the silence after to jump in, rushing over to Varian and grabbing him by the shoulders. She pulled him up off the floor, hands flying around him in a frantic mess.

“Did they see you?” She asked, her voice frantic. “Are you okay? Are you hurt?!”

“I’m fine!” Varian snapped, pushing her away. “I’m fine; she attacked me out in the square, but I got away-”

“She?” Eugene’s voice piped up from behind Rapunzel, the man arching a brow.

“I only saw one,” Varian replied, “She said she was Merrick’s sister.”

Eugene groaned, rubbing at his closed eyes with the tips of his fingers. “Great,” he muttered, “There’s more than one magical lunatic. Why wouldn’t there be?”

Rapunzel looked even more spooked at that, backing off before grabbing their bag off a nearby table. Varian just caught sight of the fresh supplies stocked inside before she was sealing it shut, looking towards Eugene.

“We have to go,” she said, slinging the bag over one shoulder and pulling her frying pan from her belt with the other hand. “We can’t stay here, not if they’ve already caught up with us- how did they even know we were here?!”

“I don’t know,” Eugene was shaking his head, “But you’re right, we have to get out of town, back to the woods.”

“Back to Corona?” Varian asked, head flicking between the two adults. “They won’t be expecting that, right?”

“Kid’s got a point-” Eugene started to say, only to be cut off by a furious noise.

“We are not going back to Corona!” Rapunzel barked, her voice echoing in the small room. Her eyes were wide, almost angry, as she got nearly nose to nose with the boy in front of her. Varian found himself shrinking in the face of her ire, shaking as he stumbled backwards. His back slammed into a table, rattling the contents on top. Mistake, his thoughts screamed, mistake, mistake, going to be locked in your room again-

“If you go back there, we’ll be playing right into their hands,” she said. Varian could barely hear her through the pounding of his heart- when had she gotten so scary?!- “I promised that you would never go back to Bayangor, and I intend to keep that promise, Varian. Even if you don’t like it.”

With that, she shouldered past the stunned boy, not hitting him, but moving in a way that had Varian scrambling to get out of her path. She grabbed at the doorknob of the office, pausing before sighing heavily. Rapunzel didn’t turn around, but Varian could see the way her shoulders slumped, and the grip she had on her frying pan went white.

“It’s for your own good.” She muttered, wrenching the door open and stepping out onto the street.

Varian and Eugene stood there for a second longer, both of them wincing when the door slammed shut. There was an awkward pause, the sudden silence smothering and strange after such an outward display from someone usually so gentle. Varian shuddered in the new quiet, his hands unconsciously reaching up to rub at his wrists. Something in the bones hurt, inescapable and intangible but very much there. Eugene grimaced, moving the few steps toward his younger friend. He shuffled closer to Varian, slowly bringing his hands up. When the boy didn’t react, he reached down to gently take the teenager’s hands and break the vice like grip. Eugene caught Varian’s eye, trying for a smile. It failed.

“She didn’t mean to snap.” He murmured, gently lifting a hand to wipe away a few frightened tears that had slipped from Varian’s eyes. Excuses, always with the excuses for her- Varian’s fear snarled, something bright and angry. Sure she gets a free pass to act like this, but the second he snaps- chaos! Eugene kept going, unaware of the shift in Varian’s mood. “She’s stressed, we all are. Sunshine is worried about you-”

“It doesn’t give her the right.” Varian shuddered, turning away from the older man. “Just because she’s upset-”

“I know.” Eugene soothed (but did he really?), “You’re right, Varian. But we have more pressing issues for now. We have to sort through it once you’re safe.”

The boy looked up to his friend; Eugene seemed to have swapped tactics, but Varian couldn’t figure out if it were an actual change of heart or of Eugene wanted Varian to sit down and shut up. The man schooled his face into an easy grin when he saw Varian looking at him. “C’mon.” Eugene said, “We’ve got places to be. This place was giving me hives anyways, too many goodie-two-shoes for my liking.”

Ah. The second one, then.

Varian sniffled again, fighting the press of tears; he looked towards the door with a sudden sense of apprehension. Not quite fear, but close. He couldn’t help but feel a thousand eyes boring into his back, the creeping vision of a room full of portraits staring into his very being taking over. Eugene’s concerned voice slipped away, the tremors growing more extreme as the seconds ticked by agonizingly slow.

Varian could feel his chest hitching, the shaking doing nothing to ease the tensing of his shoulders and spine. The breaths he was trying to take were unable to reach his lungs, his throat felt clenched tight as if he were being choked from the inside. Tears, unbidden and unwanted, flowed down his cheeks as the alchemist crumbled inwards. His hands curled around his wrist once more, the phantom sting of broken bones pulsing through his hand like a flame he couldn’t put out. Varian’s eyes slammed shut, blocking out the world in a desperate attempt for calm, for peace.

So when Eugene stepped forwards and gently cupped his face, Varian wasn’t ready.

“Don’t touch me!” The boy wailed, scurrying back as if burned. His eyes remained closed, the horrifying images of Barviel Keep flying through his mind at a breakneck pace. The knot in his throat only tightened, the hitching breaths doing nothing to ease the strain. Varian couldn’t hear a single thing beyond his racing heartbeat, the terrified thump-thump of a rabbit’s beat echoing through his mind.

But then.

Hands.

Someone touching his shoulders, a grip that felt like a vice, a manacle, a cage to keep him trapped and complacent and a perfect little doll- a brutal grasp, tight and rough, one that would shake him until he cooperated-

“Father, I’m sorry!” He screamed, an instinctual, gut reaction.

And those hands left his shoulders like he’d burned them.

Varian’s eyes snapped open, a sudden fear taking him at the sudden lack of contact, the boy looking up and expecting to see his own eyes glaring back at him- so when he was met with warm, chocolate brown it was like a shock to his system.

He was free, Aldred was dead; Varian was in Pincosta, not in Barviel Keep.

And Eugene Fitzherbert was staring at him in absolute horror.

“I-” Varian stuttered. “I- Eugene, I didn’t- I wasn’t-”

“Kid?” the man asked. He didn’t dare draw closer, and it broke Varian’s heart. “Are you back, uh, back with me?”

Varian sniffled, nodding. “I don’t know what… what happened,” the boy stammered. “I just…”

“It’s okay.” Eugene said quietly. “You’re okay. You’ve had a rough week.”

Varian rubbed at his eyes furiously, chasing away the thoughts of roaring winds and pink tourmaline. The feeling of eyes on the back of his neck. He took a deep breath, forcing it down past the knot in his throat. It didn’t do much to calm him, but they didn’t have time for much else.

“Try a rough year.” Varian couldn’t help but try and crack a joke, to shove the pain under a layer of flippant, couldn’t care attitude. Eugene didn’t seem to buy it, but could only shake his head in wonder.

“You might be right, there,” the man said, holding a hand out hesitantly. When Varian didn’t flinch, he gently placed it on the boy’s shoulder, slowly directing him towards the door. “I’m sorry kid, I wish we had time to calm down- but we have to catch up with sunshine.”

Varian nodded, the movement rough, and wiped away the last of unshed tears and forcing the panic away. They didn’t have time for this- they had to move before Cerise figured out where they were. The panic simmered, set to a low heat- Varian knew it would come back, later, like it always did- but for now he had to pushed it down and keep moving. Eugene pulled the door open with a grimace, peeking out into the streets beyond. The smoke had done its job and scared away the public, it seemed, as the cobblestone paths that had just been filled with people were left empty.

They cautiously stepped out into the hollow streets, a loud silence ringing all around them. Varian rubbed again at his face, chasing away the last of his cloying panic and steeling himself. Eugene scanned the area once again, brown eyes narrowed and scrutinizing. Varian held his breath, waiting, as the older man finally seemed satisfied with their surroundings.

Eugene indicated with a tilt of his head for them to move. Varian went first, already taking stock of his meagre weapons. He didn’t have much left in the ways of alchemy, just a few more smoke bombs and exactly one sticky bomb. Stupid Vardaros he thought to himself with a grimace, should have grabbed more supplies.

A sudden clang noise echoed along the abandoned cobblestones, stirring both Varian and Eugene into action; the two of them set off at a brisk pace towards the center of town. They drew closer to the marketplace Varian had run from, and the closer they got, the louder the sounds of fighting and female voices became. Varian lagged, but Eugene let him set the pace- probably to keep an eye on him, if Varian were to guess. It was still a fair gesture, as if Eugene were running at full pace, he’d surely leave the alchemist behind.

Varian skid to a halt by the corner of a building, yanked to a stop as Eugene grabbed at his elbow to keep them in place. The boy looked to the older man with confusion, but Eugene held a hand out, asking him to wait, silently. The sounds of fighting were louder here, so Eugene took the lead, peeking out. Varian, stubborn little shit that he was, followed, and winced at what he saw.

Cerise snarled as her halberd slid off of Rapunzel’s frying pan with a harsh bang, the metal blade slamming deep into the stones of the square. Rapunzel twirled out of the way with a grace that screamed of practice, a swirl of purple fabric cutting through the air, but it was easy to catch the sight of crimson blood staining the sleeve of her dress. Cerise too wasn’t unscathed, her body covered in patches of bright pinks and blues- surely the residue of Varian’s own creations. Both women huffed for breath, circling each other like a pair of lionesses. Neon met forest, two pairs of green eyes locked together- sizing the other up and waiting for a break to make their move.

“Where’s your baby brother, princess?” Cerise taunted, yanking her weapon from the rock. It left a deep wound behind, a thick line right through the stone. Varian’s mouth went dry at the sight of the kind of damage that axe could do. Rapunzel didn’t reply to the Bayan’s question, backing off as Cerise spun her halberd in a wide, devastating arc that cut the air with an audible whumph. Rapunzel was forced to dodge, rolling to the side to avoid getting sliced in half. She landed hard, a cry of pain echoing through the square. Eugene let out a lout yell at that, rushing from their hiding place and to his wife’s side.

Rapunzel grinned at the sound of his voice, quickly standing and twirling her body around. Her frying pan clattered to the ground as she brought both of her hands into am interlocked pose, offering a flat surface while she crouched towards the ground. Eugene took it, using her hands as a step. Rapunzel let out a grunt of effort as she brought her hands up, launching Eugene high into the air with a well-timed throw. Varian blinked as Eugene drew his sword while in midair, bringing it down onto a startled Cerise.

The Bayan woman shouted, bringing up her arm to block the blow. Eugene’s sword rattled off her gauntlet, blocked, but Varian could see how roughly Cerise had taken the blow in the way she held her arm once Eugene backed off. The man refused to let up, quickly forcing Cerise away from Rapunzel with a series of well-timed slices. Rapunzel followed, her frying pan forgotten in lieu of a few of Varian’s alchemical bombs.

Varian felt frozen, like he’d been glued to the ground as the two adults quickly backed the threat away. Cerise snarled as she spun her halberd, but splitting the attention between the two Coronians was obviously difficult with such a bulky weapon. Varian felt a sudden sharp tug on his hair, snapping to attention as Ruddiger frantically gestured to the forgotten frying pan.

Varian forced his legs to move, stumbling towards the iron pan. He scooped it up just as Eugene let out a shout. Varian twisted just in time to see the man fall to the ground, Frederic’s sword going flying from his hand. The boy gasped, rushing for the chaos with his newfound weapon. The iron was cold in his hands, heavy and solid. Varian didn’t take to reflect on it, bringing it up in a fluid motion.

Cerise didn’t even see him coming.

Varian brought the pan down with a swift crack onto her head. Her whole figure tensed for just a second, swaying oddly, before she collapsed to the ground with a thump. Her halberd was loud as it fell, a rattle of metal against cobblestone that echoed.

Eugene, still on the ground, gawped up at Varian in shock. The boy huffed, turning as Rapunzel ran up to him. The unsettled fear in him solidified into proper irritation at the sight of her, condensing further into a rough, bitter anger. She got close, her hands already reaching forward, grasping, like she always did. He scowled, shoving the pan into her chest roughly. Her hands flew up to grab at it, green eyes blinking in shock at his ire. Varian huffed, refusing to back down. She knew what she did.

“Can we go, now?”

He didn’t wait for an answer, stepping over Cerise’s unconscious body and holding a hand out to Eugene. The man took it, blinking as Varian pulled him to his feet. The square was oddly silent, now that the fight had been cut off. It felt nearly unnatural, like seeing something fall upwards. Just something that shouldn’t be. Varian shrugged off the feeling, looking at the two adults with a scowl.

“Pincosta’s a bust,” Varian said firmly. “We need a new plan.”

Ruddiger chittered from his place on Varian’s shoulder, dropping to the ground to sniff at Cerise. The animal hissed, scrambling up Rapunzel’s leg. The brunette sighed, grabbing the raccoon and holding him on her hip not unlike one would an infant. He cooed, snuggling close to her. Traitor.

“We’ll just need to hide you somewhere else,” Rapunzel said firmly, “Tropi Island was our next bet-” she shifted Ruddiger in her arms when he got squirmy. “-but we weren’t sure about it.”

“Sunshine,” Eugene tried to interject, “Maybe we should listen to Varian.”

Rapunzel’s face morphed into something almost called irritation, twisting to look at Eugene. Ruddiger complained from her arms, wiggling and grabbing into her dress pocket at the motion. She didn’t notice, too busy locking her husband with a look.

“We’re not going back home until Varian’s safe,” she said firmly, “I won’t lead him right into the hands of the people who want to hurt him-”

“I’m right here, you know!” Varian objected with a tart voice, only scoffing when he was ignored by both adults. Eugene and Rapunzel kept debating back and forth, both of them obviously trying to keep cool, but Varian could see the stress lines creeping across Eugene’s face, the way Rapunzel’s shoulders hitched higher and higher. The alchemist sighed, clicking his tongue at Ruddiger.

The raccoon perked up, his little hands leaving Rapunzel’s pocket. Ruddiger jumped from her arms, scuttling back to Varian, who scooped him up in attempt to ignore the others. The boy sighed, a rush of air that took his whole body. Ruddiger cooed to him, papping at him with one little paw. The alchemist smiled, but cracked an eye open in curiosity when he only felt one paw hitting his face. Varian pulled back, seeing the animal’s other paw taken up by an envelope.

“What do you have there, bud?” Varian asked, taking it gently from Ruddiger and looking it over. It must have been in Rapunzel’s pocket. He felt a small pulse of surprise when he saw a broken wax seal on the front. He flipped it, pushing Ruddiger up onto his shoulders so he could use both hands to inspect the already cracked wax seal.

Rapunzel and Eugene’s tense bickering faded from his ears quickly as Varian pulled the letter out and scanned it, his stomach sinking with every word. It couldn’t possibly, not- she wouldn’t, right? Varian’s thoughts struggled to comprehend what he was reading. If it were true, then his mother- he thought- and Rapunzel had the evidence in her pocket! His heart started to race as everything began to slot into horrifying place.

Rapunzel’s defensiveness, her push towards keeping him in Corona, all of it was because…

Because his mother was still alive, and she’d been hiding it from him.

Because Rapunzel must have known, of course she did. She had the letter in her pocket. He stared at the looping script of Aisha’s signature as the world fell out from under him. He was focused on it, transfixed, blue eyes scanning it as if the paper were about to burst into flame and be turned to ash before he could get to the end. He could feel something stirring in his gut, nausea perhaps, and the ringing in his ears only grew and grew.

He finally tore his eyes away, looking to the two adults. Eugene was off to the side, quietly trying to convince his wife to turn back for Corona. Varian zeroed in on Rapunzel, and the feeling in his stomach cemented itself not as sickness, but in rage. Rage at the lies, at the trickery, at keeping something like this from him…

It was the amber all over again.

Varian let out a strange noise, something of a growling gasp. Rapunzel turned to him, the irritation on her face swiftly turning to horror when she saw the envelope in his clenched grip.

“Varian-” she started, but was cut off when his eyes met hers. Rapunzel had gone pale, a rarity for her. It made her look sick. She was cowed by the glare he leveled at her. Her voice was quiet, weak. “I can explain…”

“How long?” The question echoed in the abandoned square.

“I-”

“How. Long?”

Rapunzel flinched at his tone. For a second she turned to Eugene, who was staring at Varian in confusion. The boy’s face twisted even further, shoving it at the older man to read. When Rapunzel still didn’t give him an answer, he moved forwards into her space. He was shorter than her, but she still shrank under his glare.

“Rapunzel.” He wasn’t asking anymore.

She finally shook her head, turning her gaze away. “Since before your birthday,” she finally admitted. Varian’s hands tightened at his side.

“I… that long?” His voice cracked in the middle, the full weight of her actions finally hitting. “You- you knew, for that long?”

“Sunshine?” Eugene’s voice drifted between them, the man having finished reading. “Tell me you didn’t.”

“I…” Rapunzel trailed off, tugging at her hair. “I was only trying to protect you-”

“From what?!” Varian snapped. “From my own mother-”

“From all of it!” Rapunzel finally said, loud and frustrated. “Varian, after everything that’s happened with those people can you blame me?”

“She’s my mother!” “And she was just as bad as Aldred was!”

The boy reeled for a second at the audacity, before the fury in him exploded outward.

“How can you say that?!” Varian snapped, “She ran from fa- from him! To protect me! How can you think she’s evil after that, after everything she did to keep me safe? If it weren’t for her, I would have grown up with him, I wouldn’t even have had my dad, or my home, or any of it; I would have had nothing-”

“She burned villages to the ground! She murdered people- you know as well as I do; she was a warlord in her own right.” Rapunzel countered, obviously over trying to cushion her words. “She ran away because it benefitted you, it was still in her own interest! You don’t need her!”

Varian bristled, the fury welling up from a place he’d thought was long dead.

“You don’t get to make that choice for me!”

His voice echoed around the square. Rapunzel reeled back at the shout, clenching her fist tightly around her frying pan. Eugene tried to step in, but backed away when Rapunzel took a step towards Varian.

“I did what was right.” Her voice was steel. “Those- those people have caused nothing but pain, and I am not going to let you walk right back to them.”

“I’m not just going to ignore her,” Varian said, “She’s my mother, she’d be the only family I have left!”

“What about us?!” Rapunzel argued. Varian grimaced, shaking his head.

“That’s not fair-”

“No, what isn’t fair is you trying to run away from this! To abandon us, abandon me, because you keep trying to ignore what happened!” Her chest heaved from the shout. Eugene tried to get in between them, handing the note back to Varian numbly, only to be pushed out of the way so Rapunzel could invade Varian’s space once again. Her face was inches from his, his eyes going wide with fear. She snarled the next words, more furious than he’d ever seen her before.

“It happened, Varian; if you go to her, it will happen again- and this time it will be your fault.”

The silence following Rapunzel’s shout was deafening. Varian stared at her with wide eyes, the salt in them burning. His heart raced, a cocktail of adrenaline rushing through his veins. Rapunzel’s chest heaved, her face twisted into an angry mask. She didn’t even look like his sister anymore. The shock spurred Varian’s legs to life, shaking knees unlocking at last. Varian took a step backwards, unable to look away from her eyes. Rapunzel’s tense frame slumped, shock at her own words making her expression drop into horror. She reached a hand toward Varian, grabbing at him, trying to tie him down-

He stumbled back, and ran.

>>>><<<<

Rapunzel scowled, trying again to weave around Eugene. Her husband refused to move, however, blocking her way to where Varian had disappeared between the buildings.

“Eugene!” She cried, “We have to go after him, it’s not safe-”

“Sunshine, I love you, but you are probably the last person he wants to see right now.”

Rapunzel slumped, trying one last time to dip around Eugene’s chest. He stood firm, his boots planted on the cobblestone. She sighed, looking up into his brown eyes, pleading with him.

“Eugene,” she tried again, “Even if Varian’s confused, we can’t let him go off on his own, if she-” Rapunzel gestured to the unconscious Cerise with her free hand, “-wasn’t alone, then he’s in danger! We don’t have time for this!”

Eugene caught her flailing hands gently, holding them close to his chest.

“Rapunzel,” he sighed, “Varian will be fine for a while, he’s a big boy. We need to get you sorted first, or we’ll find him, and he’ll run off again.”

“I…” she trailed off, before scowling. “He needs me- needs us. He can’t handle them on his own.”

Eugene’s face was concerned; Rapunzel felt a knot tie in her gut. She could see in the way he was approaching her that he thought she was wrong, that she was going to have to argue this. Case in point- “Listen to me,” he said, “We’re going to go get the kid, trust me, but first you need to calm down. Varian’s hurting, he needs us to be stable. After the- with the constable’s office- Rapunzel, he had a breakdown. I haven’t seen him so scared in a long time.”

The princess paused at that, her expression dropping. “He hasn’t had one in almost a year,” she said quietly, “He was doing so well… did I… did I set it off?”

Eugene’s grim face was enough. Rapunzel felt her anger shrink, the anger melting away in the face of what she’d done. “Oh, no.” It was nearly a breath, quiet in the abandoned square. “Oh, no, what have I done?”

Eugene’s face broke into a small smile, his hand coming up to cup her cheek. “There you are,” he murmured, “I knew you were in there somewhere, sunshine.”

Rapunzel sniffled, shaking her head. “He must hate me,” she said, “I would hate me. I was just trying to do what was best for him.”

Eugene smiled, wiping away a stray tear. “You made a bad call, that’s okay. Varian’s hurting right now, but he’s a smart kid. He knows that you love him, and he loves you. You went about things the wrong way, now all that’s left to do is try to fix it.”

Rapunzel paused, thinking it through. They needed to move, they didn’t have time to waste. Not while her brother was wandering the world by himself, not while people were still trying to hunt him down.

“We have to find Varian,” Rapunzel said, leaning into the touch. “I need to apologize for the yelling… but the note, I was just trying to-”

“You were trying to protect him.” Eugene said softly, “And I get that, really I do. You think I don’t want the kid wrapped in bubble wrap all the time? But he’s getting older, and we’re not always going to be there.”

Rapunzel sighed, shaking her head. “It’s not going to end well,” she said, her tone miserable. “It can’t…”

“We have two options,” Eugene finally sighed, after a beat of too long silence. “We either follow him and don’t get in his way,” he arched a brow at her at the last point, “Or, we go back to the city. Take Merrick down, and then wait for Varian to come home- if he ever does.”

Rapunzel flinched at the thought, shaking her head. “We’re going after him,” she said, her tone firm. “Whether he likes it or not, he can’t be out here all by himself.” She started to move again, this time brushing past Eugene without protest. They’d wasted enough time, she had to find her brother. Eugene watched her go, before finally sighing. He followed his wife, shaking his head.

Neither of them noticed that Cerise, left behind, was beginning to stir.

[starsfreckled-archived]

sundering .

they were arguing - of course they were arguing, they haven’t done anything but fight since the summoning of zodiark. it was loghrif who held her back by the arm, looking at persephone with those sad eyes of hers.

“won’t you return to us? be azem again? you only need to meed him once and then it will make all sense---” “and be changed and twisted like all of you? I do not even recognize you. any of you!”

if loghrif, or any other member of the convocation, had something to reply to that, she would never hear it. the earth underneath their feet started to shake - and then it washed over them, a wave of such immense strength that it made the world stop its breath.

all of them stare in horror as a being, not too unlike to zodiark, towered over their city. “oh no...no, no, no. I thought I had more time. I thought she could not do it so quickly” 13 pairs of eyes all looked at her and she took a step back, biting down on her lower lip. there would be no coming back from this.

“venat... one of her followers approached me. they have a plan, they... I figured they would try a summoning of their own, but I thought their preparations would take more time, I thought I could find a solution. a real one.” not another god, not zodiark. 

she could nearly feel the anger of the convocation and she takes another step back, realizing that in their eyes she must be a traitor too. they had not often agreed on things, she always had her own way of approaching problems ( namely, approaching and solving them in the first place, not simply standing by idly due to traditions ). but never had there been such a divide as now. 

but the world shook again as the other god rose to meet the new one. they had to watch as the two beings started their battle - as the first buildings started to collapse. as the convocation starts to discuss their next steps, persephone opens her mouth, only to be shot down by a glare of the speaker “I think you have done enough, you are not azem anymore. concern yourself with your own business”

she cannot answer - and perhaps it is best she cannot, because she never had been one for tact - when emet-selch gently pulls her away. “he is right - you can still help protecting the city if you want, but first go back to hermes. he will need you.”

persephone turned on her heels and started running. she ran until she reached her home in the outskirts of amaurot. the moment she opens the door, hermes already runs to her, throwing her arms around her midsection. “why is it happening again?! you said you solved it for now... I thought zodiark---” “it’s... it’s not the beasts.” she whispered, kneeling down to rest a hand against his cheek. the poor child must be terrified. he had lived outside of amaurot with his family ...all who had been slaughtered by the nightmares of the final days. she had found him back then and taken in, raising him ever since.

“we have to go” she wasn’t sure where. where does one hide when gods battle? probably at least further away from the buildings falling apart. she lifted hermes up, leaving her home behind them.

...there was no place to hide. not really. the only thing she could do, was to make sure hermes did not witness too much, while she watched everything. there is one thing persephone can tell: no place on this star would be safe. the world seemed to nearly collapse in itself, whenever the two primals would meet in one of their blows. 

as buildings fell, as fire started to consume, persephone tried her best to protect others. some of them stayed with her. officially azem or not, she had lead these people, had protected them ever since her youth, it was only natural that they would flock towards her.

“persephone!” her eyes widen when she sees hythlodaeus. “I tried to find you...” he stepped closer, leaning down to whisper into her ear “...some members of the convocation have fallen. they are trying their best to protect the people but...” but it was too much. it wasn’t like persephone could truly turn the tide - but she was more versed in fighting and protecting than most. she should at least be there. “what about emet-selch?” “last I saw he was still alive...”

“take hermes and this group, if you leave amaurot in this direction ...remember that stone plane I showed you and hades when we were children? you should be save from debris there. I’ll find him and the others. we’ll gather more survivors and send them your way...” she carefully placed the boy in hythlodaeus arms, smiling up at him. “I’ll see you later, old friend.” 

she turned away and only took a few steps, when another strike of the gods, sent her flying to the ground. in horror, she felt the earth open underneath her and in a panic she scrambled away... just in time to not be devoured by the abyss opening next to her. in horror she stared at the spot where hythlodaeus and hermes just had been. 

for a while she simply stared, silent tears streaming down her face. the concept of death was not unknown to her, even before the final days she had lost people - traveling had taught her that much. she had lost friends before, her parents had both sacrificed themselves to zodiark. she knew loss. she knew it. and yet, as she sat there, staring into the earthly maw, her mind could not comprehend what just happened. a part of her believed that if she just waited long enough, hythlodaeus would appear again, holding hermes and laughing that smug laugh of his “ah that was closer than I’d like !” ...but none of that happened.

it was the scream of someone else that made her finally look away. trembling, she stood up. she was crying the entire time that she protected others. at some point she could no longer tell if it was the grief over the loss of her friend and child, or whenever she failed to save someone. she could not remember when her mask fell off, when her hair came undone or where the blood on her face came from. was it hers? someone else’s? it did not really matter.

what she did remember was the moment her arm got cut off, shattered underneath debris that she could not escape. she remembers screaming, her hand soaking in her own blood as she tried to focus her healing on the wound. close! close already!

...it barely stopped her from still trying to shield other amaurotine. though she could feel the blood loss making her magic more clumsy, her shields weaker. and whenever she looked around, the people she had tried to protect had died... this was worse than the final days.

“I thought I told you to leave with hermes.” persephone looked up to emet-selch... for one moment she was about to break down, to scream and cry again, but instead she smiled. “I left him with hythlodaeus.” she explained, trying to sound as if she did not worry too much. even if fear coated her voice, then so what? of course she’d be terrified for those two... “what about you and the others?”

he opened his mouth but both had to cover their ears as a scream seemed to nearly shatter the fabrics of reality. “he is losing” persephone whispered, watching zodiark’s massive form seemingly stumbling back. “...she will kill him” she realized, watching the other god - the goddess was relentless in her attacks. we have to get away from here. it seemed her friend had the same idea when his hand reached out for her but..

...in an instance emet-selch was gone, whisked away by darkness. she stared at the spot he had just been before sighing. “so you can only protect those who serve you?” her eyes wander up to zodiark, on the ground trying to raise himself when that goddess rose above him, readying herself for what seemed to be a final strike.

gliding down a near by wall, persephone tried to bite down the scream, threatening to escape her. she managed somewhat, but the tears came back. ot hurt. it hurt - dying hurt. the loss of those she loved hurt. and yet, selifhisly as she laid there she thought about how she did not want to die. how she wanted to live. or how she at least did not want to die alone...

with a sob, her summoning circles appeared around her, but there was nobody to step out of them. they flicker and disappear as her powers and life dwindles. as the goddess shattered zodiark... persephone stared up at her, closing her eyes with a saddened smile as she recalled the faces of those she loved.

there is pain, one cannot describe. there is unspeakable pain. the pain of her very soul being ripped apart being one of these. there were no words for it, only the horrifying knowledge of an instant : that she would forget. forget everything, but this pain would carve itself into every single shard of hers.

[phykios]

the marble king, part 1 [read on ao3]

Constantinople, 1453

The end of the world began the evening of the 22nd of May, Anno Mundi 6961. Perseus, who usually never had a head for such things, would mark the date indelibly in his heart for the rest of his life. 

That night, the moon had risen, dark and eclipsed, and the men around him on the walls had shuddered, marking themselves with the sign of the cross. “An ill omen,” they muttered, fearful. “A portent of evil, surely.”

Surrounded on all sides by the Ottomans, Percy certainly couldn’t see how it might be otherwise. Amongst the rising smoke of prayer which surrounded him, Percy sent up his own. Poliouchos, Brotoloigos, be with our swords. Sthenios, guard your people here. Ennosigaios, he prayed, lifting his face to the dark moon, Father. May I bring honor to your name.

The night passed without further incident, but Percy could feel it coming, the way he could feel the earth shift beneath his feet, or the storms rolling in from the sea. What “it” could possibly be, however--that was the question. 

It felt somewhat futile to pray to his father, and the rest of the Olympians. Though they had answered him in the past, though his father had sent him more signs and gifts and summons than any other demigod he had ever known, the gods had, of late, been strangely silent. This was not terribly unusual in and of itself--most children like him rarely ever heard from their divine, yet distant, mothers and fathers--yet even Percy found his attempts at conversation thoroughly rebuffed. The rainbow messages would not reach their recipients. There was not a single satyr or faun to be found in the whole of the city. The nereids of the Bosphorus had vanished without a trace. Perhaps most concerning, he had not even heard from his cyclops brother in quite some time. It was certainly a question he wished to pose to Chiron, but Percy simply had not had an opportunity to visit camp, what with all that had been going on.

The journey to Sigeion was not so long and arduous, merely two or three days at most, even if he chose to travel over land rather than shortcut through Marmara, but Percy simply could not afford to leave at this time. Not with all their many and varied enemies closing in on them.

Leaving his fellow men to mutter and pray amongst themselves, he turned to view his city for himself, leaning between the merlons of the battlement, resting his arms on the lip of the embrasure. Even from here, one could see the dome of St. Sophia rising over the peak of the first hill, even in the darkened moonlight, silvery and silent and still. He looked above, to the jeweled night sky, and wondered, not for the first time, for what purpose was this divine silence that they suffered here.

He received no answer, of course, not that night, and not for three nights afterwards. 

On the fourth day, he had been forcibly shuffled off his post by his commander, who ordered him to get out and get some rest, after he had endured the very worst of the previous day’s rain and hail. The commander was but a mortal, but a damn good one, with a mind like Athena and a war cry like Ares, and arguing with him was a relatively useless proposition, despite the fact that, if pushed, Percy could rout his whole cohort. But he acquitted, and had spent his free evening walking up and down the misty, ghostlike streets of Constantinople. Hymns and prayers were sung behind every door, a litany of pleas, a symphony of sobs, a catalogue of wishes, all to the god of the Christians and to this god’s holy mother, which only made Percy more melancholy. How long had it been since he had seen his own mother? He had sent her away before the siege had begun, her and her husband and his half-sister, praying that his father had had enough continued affection for his one-time lover to see her and her family to safer shores, wherever they may be.

Small comforts.

Overcome with melancholy, he did not realize that his pilgrimage had brought him to the walls and domes of St. Sophia, the tether to Olympus. They were always a sight to behold, he thought ruefully, as facts he had never cared to learn himself surfaced from the recesses of his memory, even if he could not quite see them through all this damned mist. The mathematics of it was, in truth, quite beyond him, but still he could hear her voice as she explained, for the hundredth time, how the dome had been expertly balanced upon the pendentives, which then thusly bore the gargantuan weight downwards, how the forty windows gave the impression to the mortals that the dome floated above the cathedral, which of course it did, in a manner of speaking, hung on a silver thread from the heavens, how she had been quite nice when she hadn’t been an insufferable daughter of Athena--

“Percy?”

He turned, not to the blonde hair that he had half expected he would see, but to hair as red as firelight, the starkness turning her pale face even paler. “Rachael?”

“Oh, it is you!” And she leapt on him in an embrace that would have shocked the people around them, if they had cared to lift their heads from their unceasing prayer. “I cannot begin to tell how glad I am to see you.”

“And I as well,” he said, returning her embrace. They no longer had any awkwardness between them, and had not for years--and thanks be to the gods for that. What had once been a fumbling, awkward romance had blossomed instead into a deep, solid friendship, one that he was most grateful for. “What are you doing here? Is something wrong at camp?”

She shook her head. “No more or less wrong than the last time you were there. Troia still stands, for the moment.”

That was not a reassuring answer. “Then what brings you to our fair city? And,” he frowned, suddenly confused. “We are under siege… how did you--”

“I had to come,” she said, turning towards the church, despite the mist which shrouded it from view. “I just had this feeling.”

Oh,  would it were that her feelings were ever good. “The Oracle?”

Rachael nodded. “She has been restless, as of late. She has not spoken through me in many years, though I can feel her stirring.”

“Perhaps it will be good news, this time.”

She looked at him, pityingly. “Dearest Perseus, surely even you know better than to court the Moirai in this manner.”

“What more can they do to me,” he replied, “than has already been done?”

They stood in silence for some time, contemplating on the odd circumstances which brought them to this place, at this moment. Around him, the prayers of the people never ceased, though in the thick, heavy fog which surrounded them, it seemed as though they were the only two real people in the square. He could see very little, but whatever Rachael could divine from the walls must have been fascinating, he assumed, whatever it was she could see with her special sight. 

“This mist,” she murmured. “It is strong, and unnatural.”

“I suspected as much.” Dense fog such as this was not a common occurrence in the city, so sudden and out of place that even the mortals had noticed it, another malignant augury to haunt them. “Can you see through it? Do you know what has caused it?”

As long as he had known her, Rachael had possessed quite the unique gift, to see truth clearly and without alteration. Magic spells and enchanted fog were no match for her, she who had once traversed the fabled Labyrinth, Ariadne’s thread made manifest in a young girl. She had even been able to see Olympus as it perched on top of the dome, the severed head of the mountain balanced perfectly on the point of a needle, even as he and his fellow demigods could see nothing. As the Oracle, she had lost none of her keenness, speaking prophecy as precisely, and as cuttingly, as she had always spoken truth to her friends. She was not one who believed in lies or falsehoods, or who would hide the truth for any mere convenience.

So he knew that the naked fear on her face was real when she turned to him and said, “I can see nothing but this wretched mist.”

There were not many monsters he knew of who could create an illusion so powerful as to shroud even the Oracle of Delphi; Hecate, perhaps, but why she would have deigned to show her face when the rest of the gods remained silent was very uncharacteristic of what he knew of the goddess. And he did not think that even she would still be so bitter as to side with the Ottomans in this instance. 

Faintly, through the thick net of psalms which enfolded the square, he heard those other voices, sharp and piercing in tone, yet rich and mellifluous in melody, floating to them from across the Golden Horn. By his count, this was the fourth time they had sung today; thus, the time was now evening, a little after sunset, if he was correct. 

“What is that strange singing?” asked his companion, tilting her head curiously to the source of the song.

“It is the enemy,” said Percy. “Five times daily they call out to their god in this manner.” The Ottoman prisoners they had captured continued to pray their daily prayers, even in captivity, with a fervency and a dedication which deeply impressed Percy’s captain, though had sorely disturbed Percy’s other, more brutish fellow men. Having heard it up close and far away for so long, he had nearly grown accustomed to the melody, and found it oddly comforting in its sharp, even predictability, in this other man’s faith which would not desert him as it had with some of his Christian captors.

“It’s beautiful,” Rachael whispered.

“It is,” he agreed. He was sure there was much more to say on that topic, but the fear and unease of the magical fog was too much to bear, and, truth be told, he was quite hungry. Perhaps they could debate this another time. “Do you have a place to stay? I wouldn’t trust an Inn at the moment, if I were you. My mother’s house has an extra bed; you will be well come there.”

But she was not listening to him. 

He frowned, giving her arm the briefest of shakes. “Rachael?”

She stood, still as a statue, her gaze turned up to the dome, her mouth hanging open. There was not even a breath of wind to ruffle her wild hair. 

“Rachael?”

Her posture, already so straight, snapped even straighter, as though it were the string of a bow. Her head was thrown back, and she gazed sightlessly at the sky, her mouth open in a wordless shriek. He nearly toppled over as she fell onto him, her hands a death grip around his wrists. Green, sickly mist poured forth from her mouth, her eyes, her ears, and all around him in a horrible, deathless voice, the Oracle delivered its prophecy.

Tell the emperor, she gasped, in an ancient tongue that had not been heard for nearly a thousand years, that my hall has fallen to the ground--Phobos no longer has his house. In this state, she attempted to claw her way up his body, her shaking hands reaching for his face, even as he tried to hold her at bay. Nor his mantic bay, nor his prophetic spring. 

His storm sense tingled, the hairs on the back of his neck rising, the sweet scent of flowers in the air. Thunder rumbled above them, even as the fog retreated, revealing the walls and domes of the church to the open air once again, and the mortals increased their plaintive wails. 

The water has dried up! She shrieked, her eyes rolling into the back of her head. Tell the emperor--all is ended!

With an almighty crack, lightning struck over their heads, arcing with pinpoint precision onto the very tip of the dome. The receding mist lit up like gold and silver, like the celestial bronze of his secret sword, like the bright, blinding glow of a god’s truest form, one which mortal eyes were not able to comprehend, and in that light Percy thought he saw them, the twelve and the others, the hammer and the dove, the twin archers, the owl and the crown and all the rest, and for one terrible half of a heartbeat, there also he saw the trident, saw his father’s face turn from him in sorrow, and he could not feel the drag of Rachael’s fingers into his skin, nor hear the cries of the mortals as they beheld the terrible sight, though they could not understand what they saw, none but Percy could see how the gods fled the ancient city, leaving their people behind, leaving Percy behind, to slaughter and to ruin.

And just as swiftly, the vision vanished. The fog had lifted entirely. Rachael collapsed into his arms, the spirit of prophecy having left her form, and he shook her as gently as he could. “Rachael, are you alright? Rachael?”

As though she were emerging from a dream, she groaned, her eyes shut tight. “Percy?” she grunted, shuddering in his grasp. “What--where--”

“You had a vision, it seems,” he said. “Can you remember any of it?”

She shook her head, blinking. “No… what did I say?”

“You spoke of the Emperor.” It was likely that the man himself was within the very church, leading what was left of his people in more desperate prayer. “You said--”

But with a short, sharp scream, she cut off his words, and lifted one trembling finger to the sky. “Percy,” she gasped in fear and in terror, “Percy! Look!”

“You know that I cannot see as you,” he said, though his gorge rose within him. “What? What is it?”

“Olympus,” she cried out, with all the pain of a newly orphaned child. “Olympus! Olympus has gone!”

And as she wept into her hands, his arms around her, he sent up his prayers once again, to Athena and Ares and Zeus, to the father that had always professed to love him above all his other children, his thoughts rising like smoke up to a sky full of stars which no longer seemed to shine quite as bright.