#and in that moment of incredible kindness her magic makes itself known for the first time :')

[ollie-ollie-oxenfreee]

"Marvelous first spell." :')

[movingmusically]

hiii, how are you? :) I keep thinking about austin talking about how he used to go to Disneyland with his mom and how cherished those memories are so I was wondering if you could write something about austin taking his girlfriend to Disney for the first time (like, her first time but also his bc he hadn't been there since ages) and making new memories <3 thank you

Word Count: 2k

Masterlist

The Happiest Place on Earth

The morning air was crisp, the kind of rare, perfect California day where the sky stretched endlessly in a soft blue haze—warm but not stifling, with just enough of a breeze to make it comfortable. You stood at the entrance of Disneyland, fingers laced tightly with Austin’s, your excitement barely contained.

It had been years since he’d been back—not since a past relationship, long enough that the memory felt distant but not so long that the nostalgia wasn’t there. And for you? It was your first time. You’d never had the chance to go as a kid, never known the giddy anticipation of waiting in line for your favourite ride, or the magic of seeing the castle light up at night. But today, that was changing.

“You ready?” Austin asked, squeezing your hand, his blue eyes alight with something that looked an awful lot like boyish excitement.

You grinned up at him, your stomach fluttering. “More than ready.”

The moment you stepped inside, it was overwhelming in the best way. The music, the scents of churros and popcorn drifting through the air, the cheerful buzz of families and couples moving through Main Street—it was everything you’d imagined and more. But the best part was Austin.

You watched as his gaze flickered over the familiar sights, his features softening, a quiet sort of nostalgia settling into his expression. He didn’t say it outright, but you could tell—being here meant something to him.

He caught you watching and huffed a small laugh, shaking his head. “Man, this is weird.”

“In a good way?” you asked, brushing your thumb along the side of his hand.

He nodded, glancing around. “Yeah. It’s just been so long. I used to come here all the time with my mom and sister when I was homeschooled. Some days, my mom would just wake us up and say, ‘Let’s go to Disneyland,’ like it was no big deal.”

You smiled at the thought. “That sounds amazing.”

“It was,” he said, his voice a little softer now. “We’d come on random weekdays when it wasn’t too crowded. My mom would let us pick one thing each that we had to do—my sister always wanted the teacups, I wanted Pirates of the Caribbean.” His lips curved slightly. “I remember being obsessed with the ride as a kid. I used to close my eyes and pretend I was actually on a ship.”

You bit back a smile. “So you were a pirate kid?”

“Oh, one hundred percent,” he said without hesitation. “Had the little sword and everything.”

The mental image made you laugh. “I need photographic evidence.”

“You’ll have to ask my grandma,” he teased. “She probably still has a stack of pictures somewhere.”

Your heart swelled a little at the thought—his childhood memories, his grandma saving old photos, the way Disneyland still felt like a piece of home to him, even after all these years.

You leaned in, nudging his shoulder. “Then we have to go on Pirates at least twice. Make little Austin proud.”

He chuckled, but there was something tender in the way he looked at you. “You’re gonna love it.”

And you did.

You weren’t sure what was more fun—the ride itself or seeing Austin slip into full tour guide mode, pointing out little details along the way, sharing trivia he’d clearly known since childhood. He was grinning before the boat had even left the dock, and when you hit the first drop, he turned to you immediately, watching your reaction more than the ride itself.

“I can’t believe I’ve never been here,” you said breathlessly as you floated past the animatronic pirates, taking in every detail. “This is incredible.”

Austin beamed. “Told you.”

By the time you stumbled off the ride, your excitement was still buzzing through you, but Austin had something else in mind.

“Okay,” he said, his grip tightening around your hand. “I have something important to show you.”

“Another childhood favourite?” you guessed, letting him lead you through the crowds.

“More important than that,” he said, stopping abruptly in front of a cart.

Your eyes flickered over the stand’s display, and your lips parted with understanding. “Mickey ears.”

Austin nodded solemnly. “It’s a requirement.”

You laughed. “I knew this was coming.”

“I was gonna give you a choice, but now I’m thinking I should just pick for you,” he teased, eyeing the selection.

You beat him to it, grabbing a pair of classic rose gold sequined ears and settling them onto your head. “There,” you said, striking a dramatic pose. “How do I look?”

His lips twitched, eyes scanning you with exaggerated scrutiny. “Like a walking Instagram post.”

“Perfect.” You grinned, then grabbed a plain black pair and handed them to him. “Your turn.”

He raised an eyebrow. “Just classic black? Not even the Sorcerer Mickey hat? No light-up ones?”

“These suit you. Classic, understated, effortlessly cool.”

He squinted at you. “Are you describing me or the ears?”

“Both.”

Shaking his head, he took the ears and placed them on his head.

You stepped back and tilted your head, pretending to inspect him. “You know, I think they really bring out your eyes.”

He laughed, the sound rich and full, and you knew you’d remember that sound long after today.

“I have to admit,” he said, nudging you as he pulled out his phone. “We look pretty damn good.”

You leaned in as he snapped a quick selfie, one arm wrapped around your shoulder as he angled the phone. The screen reflected the two of you—his Mickey ears slightly askew, your rose gold ones glittering obnoxiously in the sunlight, matching grins on your faces. He looked at the picture and smirked. “Alright, we’ve officially reached peak Disney couple.”

“Speaking of peak Disney,” you said, slipping your hand back into his. “I believe I was promised a churro.”

Austin’s expression turned serious. “A fair request.”

You barely made it three steps before he spotted the nearest churro stand and led you straight to it. The line moved quickly, and soon, he was handing you a warm, cinnamon-dusted churro. He watched as you took your first bite, eyes scanning your face for a reaction.

You closed your eyes for effect, humming dramatically. “Oh my god. This is life-changing.”

Austin chuckled. “That good, huh?”

You nodded solemnly. “I might need three more.”

“Noted,” he said, already taking his own bite. His eyes closed briefly, and you could practically see the nostalgia washing over him.

When he opened them again, his voice had softened. “Man, I forgot how good these were.”

You swallowed your bite, nudging him lightly. “What’s your favourite memory here?”

He exhaled, eyes flicking around the park before settling back on you. “Honestly?” He paused. “Probably watching the fireworks with my mom and sister. I remember she’d hold me on her hip so I could see better, and she’d whisper stuff like, ‘Make a wish, baby.’” He smiled a little, lost in the memory. “And I always did.”

You felt something ache in your chest. “What did you wish for?”

He chuckled, shaking his head. “I don’t even remember. Probably something dumb, like unlimited ice cream.”

“Solid wish.”

“Right?” He grinned, bumping your shoulder. Then, a little softer, “I think she knew, though. That I wasn’t really wishing for things. I think she just wanted me to believe in something.”

You squeezed his hand, the moment stretching between you.

“She sounds incredible.”

“She was,” he said, his voice full but steady.

You both took a few quiet steps, the noise of the park filling the space between you. Then, in an effort to lift the mood, you bumped his hip gently.

“Okay, new tradition. We have to watch the fireworks together tonight.”

His lips curved. “Oh, is that the rule?”

“Absolutely. You have to make a wish, too.”

He considered it for a second. “Only if you do.”

You pretended to think it over, then nodded. “Deal.”

His grip on your hand tightened for just a second before he turned to you with a smile. “Come on,” he said, tugging you forward. “You’ve got a lot to experience.”

The next stop was Space Mountain. Your stomach twisted as you looked up at the sleek white dome, the distant screams of riders echoing from inside. You weren’t scared, exactly, but there was something about the unknown that made you grip Austin’s arm a little tighter.

“Don’t tell me you’re nervous,” he teased.

“Not nervous,” you lied.

He chuckled, leaning down to press a quick kiss to your temple. “You’ll love it. Trust me.”

And, of course, he was right. The rush of the ride, the sharp twists and sudden drops, the way the darkness swallowed you whole before the stars blinked around you—it was exhilarating. When you stumbled off at the end, breathless and grinning, Austin was already looking at you with a satisfied smirk.

“Told you,” he said smugly.

You rolled your eyes but couldn’t stop smiling. “Fine. You were right.”

The day blurred into a perfect whirlwind of colour and movement. Austin took the lead, guiding you from ride to ride. Thunder Mountain, Indiana Jones, the Matterhorn—each one had you laughing, screaming, gripping onto him for dear life. And each time, he held onto you just as tightly.

You screamed your way through and laughed until your stomach hurt when he dramatically recounted his childhood “trauma” from Splash Mountain’s drop.

The afternoon stretched on, a golden haze settling over the park. He bought you a Dole Whip, and you sat together in the shade, sharing spoonfuls as people bustled past.

The moment that settled deepest in your chest came when you wandered through Fantasyland. It was slower here, quieter, a step away from the high-energy thrills of the day. Austin slowed his pace, his fingers lacing more gently with yours as he glanced around.

“This was my mom’s favourite part,” he said softly. “She loved the little details. The window displays, the music. She always said this was where the magic really was.”

You squeezed his hand. “Do you miss it?”

He nodded. “Yeah. But… it’s nice being here with you. Making new memories.”

You rose onto your toes and pressed a kiss to his cheek. “Then let’s make some more.”

And so you did. You pulled him onto the carousel, despite his mock protests that it was “for kids.” You convinced him to ride It’s a Small World, and despite his complaints, you caught him humming the tune under his breath afterward.

By the time the sky darkened and the fireworks began, you found yourselves standing in front of the castle. Austin stood behind you, his arms wrapped around your waist, his chin resting on your head. When the first burst of light exploded in the sky, you felt his breath catch slightly, just for a second.

Neither of you spoke. You just watched, letting the moment wrap around you. It felt big—like something was shifting, settling.

You turned in his arms, tilting your face up to his. Austin was already looking at you.

“Best day ever?” he asked, voice teasing, fingers tracing gentle patterns along your back.

You smiled, looping your arms around his neck. “Best day ever.”

You looked at him, the fireworks reflecting in his eyes. It wasn’t just fun or nostalgic or sweet. It was important.

You weren’t just making memories. You were stepping into ones he’d carried with him his whole life. And now, you were part of them.

He grinned, but before he could speak, you tugged him down into a kiss. It was slow, unhurried, the kind that made everything else fade away. When you pulled back, his eyes stayed closed for a beat longer.

“Thank you,” you whispered.

“For what?”

“For sharing this with me.”

He kissed you again. “Always.”

You leaned in. “Making a wish?”

His lips quirked. “Maybe.”

You smiled, looking back up at the sky.

And made one too.

Neither of you said it out loud.

But you had a feeling they were the same.

And somehow, under that glowing sky with your hand in his, it didn’t feel like your first visit anymore.

It felt like coming home.

[blackjackkent]

Well, that was devastating!

Straight back to the Lighthouse and straight over to talk to Bellara and, I sincerely hope, give her the world's biggest hug.

(Davrin also wants to talk but he can wait. XD )

Bellara is, for the first time, chilling outside her room, which is surprising all on its own. She's clutching a little book in her hands, and looks up as Helena approaches.

"Hi," she says softly.

"What're you reading?" Helena asks.

"Cyrian's last words," Bellara says with a heavy breath out. "Veil Jumpers had them. He must've known it was the end. One way or another."

Her voice is steady now, the tears dried, but she sounds so... sad. So broken and tired.

Helena looks away, out at the ever-shifting landscape of the Fade beyond the Lighthouse. "Right," she says awkwardly.

She has always been so bad at conversations like this. Hard conversations, painful conversations. She avoids them whenever possible, cracks jokes to ease the inescapable tension... but she can't do that here.

She cares deeply about Bellara, in a way that is entirely new to her. She doesn't want to be flip - but she isn't sure of any other path.

"I don't know what to say here," she finally admits quietly, her eyes returning to Bellara's face.

Perhaps Bellara understands something of what is going on in Helena's head, because she smiles slightly, sadly. "Me neither. I don't know if anyone does."

She looks down at the book in her hands again. "He and I... we had plans. Together," she murmurs, half to herself. "Find the Archive. The Nadas Dirthalen. Restore the elves. Bring them back to who they were."

Her fingers tighten around the book's spine. "But now he's gone. And I wonder if the Archive should go with him."

Helena blinks, caught off guard.

She's always been made deeply uneasy by these complicated and unsettling bits of elven magic, the ones that seem to turn the understood laws of her world upside down. But they are Bellara's whole world, and Helena has learned to love, if not the magic itself, then Bellara's enthusiasm for it - watching her pore over an artifact and piece out its secrets bit by bit.

But now Bellara wants to destroy the Nadas Dirthalen? The artifact she has worked the hardest to find and unravel?

"Is that what you really want?" she asks slowly, carefully. "Or do you just think you should?"

"Neither," Bellara says, frowning. "Or, well... both. Kind of." She sighs. "The world the elvhen built. The wonders they created. The Archive has the knowledge. We could be that again."

Helena cocks her head. "So why are you conflicted?"

"Because of the bad side," she explains, pacing a few steps restlessly from one side to the other. Her eyes are narrowed with the urgency her words are trying to convey. "Some of them were conquerors, slavers, warlords. That ritual Anaris used? Probably not the only one. Some of them worse."

Her lips purse and she fidgets with the spine of the book, running her thumb along the thick and worn leather. "The Archive could teach the Venatori, or the Antaam. Anyone really."

Helena nods slowly in understanding. "And they're bad enough already."

"That knowledge is dangerous," says Bellara. "Incredibly so. But there's good there, too." Now she turns to look out at the rocks floating beyond them in the Fade, with a troubled expression. "And that's the burden. My people's future - on my shoulders."

Helena wonders if Bellara is as tired as she is of facing these kinds of choices, ones that determine the fate of the world.

She reaches out cautiously to rest her hand on Bellara's wrist. "Whatever choice you make," she says quietly, "I've got your back. All the way."

"I know," Bellara murmurs. "And it helps. I just... don't want to make the wrong choice."

Helena remembers the failed attack at Weisshaupt, the freezing immobility of Elgar'nan's control of them at the crater - moments when the difference between success and failure was not a choice but simply the ability to act - unconstrained and without hesitation. "Sometimes the only wrong choice is not choosing at all," she says slowly.

Bellara turns to face her, a subtle pleading in her eyes. "Then tell me, Rook. What would you do?"

Frankly, Helena had been hoping Bellara wouldn't ask her that, because she has no real idea.

The magic involved in the Nadas Dirthalen is very much beyond her, as is the implications for elven society and history. What she knows... is Bellara, who has in the past been so full of life and enthusiasm for exploring the information that the archive contains, using it to better her people.

This is Bellara's life's work - like Helena's in the Dragons, except that hers is a mission of creation and discovery rather than destruction. And it infuriates Helena to think of Anaris's cruelty being able to drive her away from it.

"What you were is important," she says slowly after a long pause. "It's worth the risk. The elves deserve to know more about who they were. Keep the Archive."

And she's rewarded by the sight of Bellara's expression relaxing, her eyes brightening with relief, and just a touch of that excitement that Helena most loves about her. "I think you're right," she agrees. "We'll keep the Archive. That connection to our past. It's what Cyrian and I were looking for."

"Now you've found it," Helena says gently.

"Right." Bellara nods, more steadily this time. She looks down at the book in her hands. "And I found him too. For a little while. That has to be enough."

Helena watches her quietly for a moment, then reaches out to take her hand and give it a gentle squeeze. "You going to be okay?" she asks.

Bellara is silent a moment. Then she returns the squeeze gently and nods. "Yeah. I think so," she answers. "I think... I'm ready to say goodbye. For real this time. But I need some time alone."

She lets Helena's hand fall and gives her a quiet, sad smile before turning away. "I'll talk to you later, Rook."

-----

Woohoo!

I didn't choose this for mechanical reasons but Bellara is always on heal duty for Helena's squishy ass so this is great.

Sleek. XD

[b0xerdancer-writes]

The Maiden that Stuck Around

Tamlin x Reader

Summary: After Feyre had left Tamlin, Calanmai approaches and he finds himself unable to keep up with meetings as a fog seems to slowly occupy his mind, thanks to the magic of Calanmai. He hires a secretary/assistant to help him, little does he know that he would grow incredibly close with her eventually taking her as his maiden for Calanmai.

Prompt: Calanmai/Happily Ever After

Warnings: Bullying, implied smut, Calanmai,

Word Count: 5558

Notes: Super late since this was supposed to be for Tamlin Week 2024 but it's here now. Not proofread we die like men.

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

Calanmai was always a weird time for Tamlin, he lived in a weird brain fog that always  made him feel off. The beast Tamlin became while under the influence of Calanmai’s magic was not him, he hated that part of him. It took up to a week after Calanmai for the fog to clear and him to come back to himself.

The two weeks before Calanmai were the worst, everything in the court seemed to stop and attention turned to the upcoming festival. Meetings about patrols, the surrounding villages, repairs, war efforts, all of it was stopped so they could talk about how many bonfires they would have this year, what kind of food they should have, what drinks, where they would move it to since the eastern fields were not usable this year. It had started to anger Tamlin to no end, he had more important things to tend to; he couldn’t just drop everything to discuss a stupid party.

Had Feyre been here he could have pushed the party planning onto her and focused on the repairs needed in spring, but yet she had messed up the entire proceedings of this court. So there he sat bored out of his mind discussing Calanmai proceedings.

The fog started drifting in two days before Calanmai, he'd forget where he put something around the manor, he'd forget to do a patrol or attend a meeting and every time  it would be pointed out he would blow up. Tamlin was exhausted by the meetings, was fighting off a headache, and the looming threat of the upcoming fog in a weeks time; after one particularly rough meeting he decided to hire an event planner and assistant for himself.

He had sifted through applications all night once, none of the applications looking anywhere decent for what he was needing. That was until a familiar name came up, Kallias’ cousin who had thrown many a party in winter for their solstice that he had attended once upon a time; he remembered her she was rather upbeat, rather positive, always willing to help, yet quiet and a loner. Tamlin had been called to her the first party he attended in winter and stood with her against a wall the entire ball.

He grumbled a bit to himself before  taking out his stationary to offer her the position in his court.  He wrote to her letting her know hebwould like for her to fill the position in his court,  that is she could right back when he could expect her in his court so he could have a room prepared for her and meetings arranged around her arrival. He figured he would  get a response in the morning since it was rather late but he was pleasantly surprised when his response came moments later with the words ‘tomorrow morning, I’m already in Spring.’

+

Arrive early she did, Tamlin had just scrambled down the steps that led to his room when a light knock came from the grand door.  Tamlin groggily opened it to find her standing there with a bag, he let her inside and took her bag from her, handing it to a servant to bring to her room. As his assistant she would be in charge of making sure nothing was forgotten throughout the day as Calanmai neared and the fog made itself known, starting with his morning routine; he had forgotten his tabard and dagger several times while getting dressed, not to mention the number of times he had completely forgot breakfast was a thing.

He could tell she was just as tired as him, but both had a long day ahead and would suck it up. They started with breakfast, then a tour, then came the rundown of her duties; once she had agreed and signed a contract with the spring male they split off to work. She had followed him the majority of the day as long as no Calanmai meetings were required, to get a feel for his daily routine. Only splitting off to attend the Calanmai planning meeting where she jotted notes down for Tamlin.

This continued for a week before she had to bring Tamlin into the conversation, his brain fog had begun to set in ever so slightly; she had noticed he didn't order his toast like he normally did at breakfast; had it just been regular toast with butter and jam she could be ignored it but he got cinnamon and sugar on it, and it was something he got every day without fail so him not ordering it was unusual.

She had knocked softly on his study door that evening after all meetings were done, all notes had been taken and anything needing input had been recorded.

“Enter.” Tamlin spoke with a grumble.

“Tamlin. What's wrong?” She had asked softly.

“Its closing in on Calanmai, that fog I told you is starting to come in, I seem to have misplaced my insignia stamp and have looked everywhere in my desk and this room trying to find it.” He growled under his breath.

She smiled softly and held out her hand with said insignia stamp in it. “It got knocked from the table earlier during your meeting.”

He thanked her softly sealing the letter he was working on closed.

She cleared her throat. “Calanmai as you know is a week away now my lord and I’ve arranged everything that just needs your final approval, mostly yes or no questions or one word answers kind of thing. If you have time.”

“Yeah I can do that right now, what do we got?” Tamlin nodded, gesturing to the seat across from his desk.

“First off since the eastern field is unsuitable for Calanami this year they want to know whether to set up in the west field or the south field, I suggested western because of the sun.” She spoke softly, her voice like a symphony to him.

“I agree with western for the sun's reason. What else?” he nodded.

“I know you care about the flowers. I'd not go with roses this year since they would blend with the wildflower patches in the western field weirdly and it wouldn't look right. I'd suggest actually using the flowers from the patches that grow there.” She  read off from her notes.

“You seem to have a keen eye, I'll trust your judgment on it sweetheart.” Tamlin nodded. 

She smiled and a blush covered her face. “Thank you my lord. Final thing I need to ask is which ceremonial wine did you want? I had a chance to sample them myself and I would definitely go with either the Crystal Vine Vineyards white or the-“ 

Tamlin cut her off, “Did Berryhill have an entry this year? I prefer their reds.”

“They were actually who I was going to recommend for my choice of reds, I'll let them know they've been selected again this year.” She chirped softly.

Tamlin stood from his desk and stretched before he rounded the desk, he patted her shoulder and nodded. “Thank you darling, you are doing amazing.”

She smiled up at him with a faint blush on her face, Tamlin’s hand fell from her shoulder to the small of her back; leading her from the study to the dining room, the two in constant back and forth chatter about the upcoming celebration. Tamlin ran his hand up her back and over her shoulder, grasping her chin softly between his thumb and index finger.

He tilted his head with a small smile on his face as he spoke to her. “You’ll be attending won’t you darling?”

She shrugged and rubbed at the side of her neck. “I may stop in but I mag not stick around, I don’t mean to offend Tam really, just last time I went males always try and manhandle females and while most of them don’t complain I have no interest in the sleazy males who do that especially if it's one I have no interest in.” 

Tamlin smiled gently. “I can understand that darling, but if you do decide to join you can always just call for me and I’ll come running. No female of mine will be made uncomfortable at a celebration like Calanmai.”

Tamlin must have not caught the slip in his words but oh she definitely did. No female of his. By the mother did that make her soul burn, she’d had a crush on the male since she first spotted him in Winter; it was Kallias’s coronation if she remembered correctly. He had looked practically golden leaned against the wall talking to the red headed male he had called friend once upon a time. Since he had looked her way with a wink and excused himself from the other male, her chest had been aflame and a flutter with images of the golden hair male and the relationship she had wanted to have with him; and no the books written by an author with the name of Drake that had been recommended to her did not have an influence on the imagery in which she imagined him as. Those images were well into her head before the Drake books were recommended to her. Maybe she would go to Calanmai if only for him and maybe just the tad bit of influence the voice in the back of her head said when it whispered the ideas of being his maiden for Calanmai.

“Maybe I will go, but only for you and with your protection.” She mused and giggled.

“I hope you will darling~” Tamlin had crooned at her, pulling out her seat from the dining room table.

She sat quickly and he pushed her in, taking a seat beside her himself.  Servants came in and introduced the meal,a type of steak and some sides she paid no attention to, watching only Tamlin as his jaw ticked ever so slightly; for what reason? She didn't know and didn’t necessarily care. Tamlin hadn’t forgotten anything before dinner, she carried most of his personal effects, save his dagger and tabard, as Calanmai grew closer so it wasn’t that he forgot something.

“What’s wrong?” She had asked worriedly.

“They made one of the sides with that berry quinoa mix you aren't a fan of.” He mumbled, a growl deep in his throat there but barely audible.

“Oh! You remembered I don’t like it?” She had asked as her heart skipped a beat.

“Of course I did Darling, I pay attention to stuff like that. I asked them to remove it from the menu for the duration of your stay, it seems they forgot about that order.” Tamlin had waved a servant over and had them remove the plate from the table, the dinner continued on relatively peacefully.

+

Calanmai approached quickly, Tamlins brain fog increased and so did his temper. With plans in place for the upcoming celebration she had begun to join Tamlin in his daily meetings. She had noticed Tamlin forgot about a stamp he needed for the round table earlier in the day, she pocketed it from his study as they dismissed for lunch; when they returned from the lunch and were ready to sign off on the paperwork she noticed Tamlin looking around for the stamp with furrowed brows, she presented the stamp in her as the other males in the room began to snicker under her breath.

“Not to worry my lord, you knocked it from the table earlier. I picked it up before we left.” She smiled softly but glared at the males as Tamlin took it from her and stamped the paper.

“Ahh thank you darling, good to know I didn't forget it.” He chirped to her.

She wouldn’t let Tamlin become embarrassed and enraged due to the magic fog, she kept a keen eye on his every move as per her job. She would cover for the fog several times throughout the day, switching folders that had gotten mixed up when no one paid attention, pinning blame on herself when applicable, and turning the subject on whoever seemed to comment, even going as far as to question their loyalty to Tamlin if the offense fit. Tamlin was thankful for her effort and he even played along when it amused him or offered some sort of benefit, it made his chest ache at the levels she would go to defend him; more so than anyone else had on such an intimate and emotional level. As the evening played on he found himself letting her control and run the meetings, his nobles weren’t exactly fond of his choice in that but most didn’t dare to question him, until the last meeting of the night. 

The nobles were here to discuss agricultural gain, trade, and benefits from the surrounding villages, Tamlin had switched seats with her entirely, giving her the throne at the head of the table while he took the  smaller seat to her immediate right. The nobles stumbled into the conference room already bickering between each other, they all froze as they found Tamlin’s eyes on them; confusion flashed on their faces to see him off to the side, a mix of disgust and anger on their faces as they eyed her.

“My lord, may I ask why the female is in your position for this meeting?” One of them had questioned, venom on his lips.

“Are you questioning my choices? She is my secretary and I will do as I please as part of her training. If you wish to question my methods then please let us continue this conversation.” Tamlin had hissed.

“No sir, I don’t mean to question you sir. I simply ask because as far as we were aware our meeting was to be with you, our High Lord.” The skittish male had replied back.

“And I am still here, but you will treat her as you treat me from here on, there will be no questioning of her decisions as I trust what she has to say.” Tamlin had replied disinterested.

Another male chimed in then. “But my lord, she is from Winter, their crops, trade, benefits, and requirements differ from our community here in Spring.”

Tamlin growled a warning, rising from his seat. “Like I said, I trust her judgment. She has arranged Calanmai easily, while keeping those exact factors in mind. Again. You will not question her.”

The nobles sunk back into their seats, all swallowing back a breath in fear as his canines glinted against the chandelier light. “Continue Darling.” Tamlin turned to her with a nod.

She thanked him softly and cleared her throat, nodding for the males to begin their presentation. 

+

Then came the dawn before Calanmai, she had awoken before the sun was in the sky and slipped into riding clothes for her trip to the Western meadows.  She slipped from her room and made her way across the hall to Tamlin’s room to awaken him and prepare him for the day as the brain fog had become extremely heavy and would slowly increase as the day progressed until the ritual tonight. 

She would ride back up for lunch, change, and then travel back to the fields with Tamlin in toe; but first she had to make sure he was ready for the day and wouldn’t forget anything this morning. She pushed the door open to find Tamlin sliding on his tunic, he seemed groggy and sluggish but offered her a small smile. 

“Morning My Lord.” She mused.

“Morning, darling. I’m afraid I woke up a bit late.” He replied back the exhaustion still heavy in his voice.

“You're not a drop late my lord, remember today is about you and on your schedule.” She smiled and took a few steps forward as the blonde male fumbled with his buttons, offering to help him with the small metal pieces.

“Thank you my dear.” He offered back.

“Of course Tam.” She smiled up at him.

“What's the schedule for the day hun?” He asked as he tossed his tabard around his body.

“Well Breakfast for the two of us, then you’ll be in your study until I get you for lunch; I’ll be out setting up the meadows and when I return we will have lunch then we will change for the evening and ride out for the night.” She started in a happy tune for him.

“You cleared my schedule this morning?” He noticed and pushed his bedroom door open for her to slip under his arm.

“I took care of them already, I know how you feel about meeting with people the day of the festival, you expressed how it can make your skin crawl.” She chirped.

Tamlin was stunned into silence and placed his hand firmly on her shoulder pulling her into a hug. “Thank you Darling…”

“Of course Tam, I’d do anything for you.” She smiled and stepped from the room.

His heart ached the slightest bit at her words as the two made their way towards the dining room in silence. “Just so you know darling, talking to you doesn’t make my skin crawl. If anything it's the opposite, you are like a breath of fresh air.”

“Thank you Tamlin… Can I ask something though?” She asked.

“Of course Darling.” He tilted his head, opening the doors to the dining room  for her.

“Why does it make your skin crawl?” she questioned.

Tamlin smiled and pulled out the chair for her. “It’s just a side effect of the brain fog, it more so applies to the day after Calanmai because my body just feels disgusting even after I bathe. I can still feel everything from the night before until the magic quells itself and calms down.” 

“You said you feel everything from the night before? Does that mean it's because of the maidens you choose for the ritual?” She looked up at him sadly as he pushed her chair in.

“Most likely yes, I normally have no connection to the females which definitely plays a part, leaving me with the ick. If it's a female I dislike normally, the feeling is even more disgusting to me.” He explained, “But it's more than that, I often patrol the woods before and after the ritual, it feels like any and all dirt gets under my skin and just stays there for a few days.”

“Oh,” she started, “I’m sorry. I hope this time won’t be like that.”

“Well thank you for your wishes darling. I hope so as well.”  HE scooted into his own seat.

The rest of breakfast continued in silence as the two ate, only it wasn’t an uncomfortable silence; the two had come to an understanding between each other on an intimate level.  After they ate, Tamlin disappeared to his study and she sought out the stables. She rode out to the meadows, where vendors and servants were already beginning to arrange the tables, bonfires, shop stands, and any other buildings slash furniture that needed to be set up for the night; and began to check everything over until the sun was high in the sky, unlike past Calanmais this year they did not have a space for the last part of the ritual. She had discussed it with Tamlin and they had arranged for his room to be locked after they changed and had arranged a guest room within Rosehall to accommodate for the ritual. 

Everything had been relatively in place when she rode back to  the manor estate, pushing her way through the doors of the estate and slipped between bustling servants as she made her way towards Tamlin’s study. Inside the room Tamlin had decided to nap and had his head resting on his desk, she rounded the sturdy oak desk and shook on his shoulder softly.

He roused with a small purr and yawned. “Lunch already darling?”

She snickered to herself softly. “Lunch already because you decided to nap, Lucky man.” 

He snickered himself and stood from the padded chair, stretching and yawning as he pulled her towards the dining room. “Well I would have invited you to join but you were busy.”

She had noticed he was more touchy than he normally was, a side effect of the fog she surmised and nothing was said about it as they both took their seats. Food was presented to both of them and she noted that Tamlin ate more than he usually did, probably a side effect as well but it made sense to her if he needed it for the extra energy he would be exerting tonight. 

They had joked around the entire lunch, Tamlin had even chucked one of the roasted potatoes at her when she complained he had taken them all and she took it in stride catching the wedge in her mouth. When they had finally cleared their plates, Tamlin had playfully growled at her and scooped her up over his shoulder; she pounded on his back calling him an oaf repeatedly between rib hurting laughs.  He dropped her off at her door and stalked across the hall to slip into his own room to change.

She flipped through several dresses before settling on one she had bought in her first week here, a pale green dress with a sweetheart neckline and thin straps decorated with tulle leaves and butterflies; the bodice was ribbed in the same pale green silk and tulle with a multi-layered skirt and a high slit.  If it was to be her first celebration here then she wanted to look the part of a Spring Court Fae. Before slipping on her shoes or doing her hair she padded across the hall to knock on Tam’s door. She pushed the door open to find him shirtless sitting on the foot of his bed and tugging on his boots.

He looked up at her curiously with a head tilt.”Yes mam?”

“Just checking on you, i'm going to go finish getting ready, feel free to come in while I finish.” she chirped quickly, a blush spreading across her face before she dipped back into her own room. 

She arranged her hair, slipped on some green flats,  and began applying some eyeliner before Tamlin had slipped into the room; he made himself comfy on the foot of her bed as he watched her intently. When she finally put down the kohl he jumped to his feet and pulled her from the vanity, she giggled as he pulled her down the stairs and out to the stables.  They both climbed onto Tamlin’s white mare, Tamlin’s bare chest pressed against her back as he wrapped his arms around her to control the reins. 

+

The time spent around the festival grounds before dusk was rather uneventful; she stayed tucked into Tamlin’s side to avoid the whistling of sleazy males. Tamlin made no comment, simply shooting them a glare as they walked by. A silent claim but Tamlin blamed it on the brain fog as he grew more and more possessive of the female at his side. Eventually they settled at the table, sipping some of the several types of wine offered to them when Tamlin invited her out on one patrol before the ritual would be taking place; she accepted his offer and they disappeared into the treeline not far from the festival. 

Once the festival was out of view Tamlin shifted into his large wolf like beast form and laid down for her to get onto his back. She climbed on and he stood, she fisted his fur tightly in her hand afraid she would fall off with the gait of his stride.

“Don’t worry I’ve got you.” The male below her growled out, yet his snout never moved; it was in her head she realized.

“Sorry I've never done this before, it's much different than a horse.” She mumbled.

His laugh echoed in her brain. “It’s okay darling, just letting you know you have no need to be afraid to fall off me.”  

“Thank you.” She squeaked.

He nodded and continued his slow pace between the trees.

“Hey Tam?” She mused.

“Yes Darling?” He answered. 

“If it's so close to the ritual why do you do a last minute patrol?”  She asked quizzically.

“It's my last chance to breathe and actually be me, before the fog fully kicks in. A last chance to be alone before there's hands on me all night.” He answered.

“Oh. Then why did you invite me?” her voice took on a sad tone as she asked him.

“I don’t mind your hands on me, your  presence is always welcomed.” Tamlin purred out.

“Ah. Thank you Tam.” She smiled sadly, fighting with the ache in her chest.

“Of Course Darling, though you have no need to thank me, I should be the one thanking you.” Tamlin answered.

When they returned to the spot they had started their patrol, she jumped from his back and he shifted back. 

“I think when you disappear for the ritual I am going to take the horse back to the house and turn in for the night.” She looked down at the grassy floor.

“If you want Darling I only wish I could escort you back.” He sighed, secretly hoping she would stay through the selection process so he could beg the mother for her to be the maiden this year.

The walk back to the festival grounds was silent, the two returning to their seats until a horn was blown and Tamlin was called to the front where a priestess stood shrouded in veils, two bowls on a pedestal beside her. The priestess began a speech and the party goers crowded close, with her at the front as she supported Tamlin with a smile, hoping that tonight wouldn’t be as hard on him. Tamlin took one bowl into his hands and the priestess took the other and began painting his exposed skin with a dark emerald green paint; when she finished Tamlin brought the other bowl to his lips, The Berryhills red wine they had selected, and drank slowly yet deeply. The sun rested behind Tamlin as it slowly lowered, painting him with a halo as it sank beneath the horizon.  The drums picked up and pounded harder, pounded faster; Tamlin lowered the bowl back to the stand and took a deep breath as the true fog of Calanmai flooded his brain. His pupils dilated into slits as they dragged over the crowd. 

They centered on her, the drums around them, pounded just as loudly as her heart was; Tamlin stalked forward towards her in the crowd. He stopped in front of her, took her face between his thumb and index finger, and kissed her deeply with a growl. Her face blossomed red, and he picked her up softly in his arms, one hand around her neck and the other under her knees.  He was silent as he began to carry her to the horse, he helped her on before climbing on behind her himself. 

When they had finally made it to the manor, he carried from the stables up through the halls, ignoring the guest room that had been prepared and set her down in front of his own room. Taking the key from around her neck she had put on earlier and unlocking his bedroom door. He didn’t bother with being gentle as he tossed her onto the deep emerald green silk sheets of his bed. He stalked forward, kicking off his boots before pouncing on top of her. She welcomed him in with a kiss and felt the fog begin to fill her own mind. Tamlins hand found the fastening of her dress , pulling it from her body and she in exchange helped him with the tight leather pants that left little to the imagination. Teeth and lips clashed against each other as both were pulled under the brain fog of Calanmai. 

+

They had awoken groggily early in the morning to a knocking on the door, a servant on the other side called out to them. She was tucked into Tamlin’s side with his arm around her and the palm of his hand rested firmly on her upper thigh. Memories of the night prior flitted across her mind, images of Tamlin buried between her thighs and the look he gave her while he put his tongue to work, images of Tamlin below her coaxing her and praising her, and finally him buried deep within her and the roar he had let out as he finished inside of her and how when he had collapse dto her side and pulled her into him he had glowed a bright gold and felt a tug in her chest. 

She was pulled from her thoughts as Tamlin growled, “What now?” To the servant on the other side of the door, not even bothering to open his eyes as he covered his face with his other arm. 

“Sorry my lord, I wanted to wake you in enough time for you to bathe, get ready, and eat lunch before your meetings for the day. Apologies for waking you and possibly waking your lady.” The servant had squeaked before scampering could be heard as he hurried off. 

Tamlin groaned, “I just wanna stay here all day-” He was cut off as he felt a tug in his chest. 

He sat up quickly confused and startled at the tug, and looked down at the female beside him with a purr as she giggled and tugged the bond again.

He rolled on top of her and littered her face with kiss after kiss, a mix of their laughter echoed around the room. Eventually he pulled her from the bed and towards the attached bathing room, they stood in front of the floor length mirror and TAmlin buried his lips against her exposed neck; eyes finding hers in the mirror he watched as she shuddered against him, he could feel his arousal growing quickly and could scent hers in the air before it quickly soured.

“Darling? What's wrong love?” He looked up worriedly.

“Tam… Do you feel that disgusting feeling you talked about?” Her voice had a sad tilt to it.

“After being with you? Never” He confided.

“I love you.” She responded.

“I love you too Darling.” Tamlin kissed her cheek and moved to draw water for the bath.

“Oh by the mother…” She whispered.

“What?” Tamlin asked over his shoulder.

“Your back…” She whimpered. “I’m sorry.” 

“Huh?” Tamlin moved to look at his back in the mirror. He purred happily at the view. “Oh, Darling you have no need to be sorry.”

She ran her fingers over some of the raised red scratches on his back. “Are you sure?” 

“Mmmmhmmm, I like these new battle scars.” He snorted and she playfully punched his arm.

+

The two bathed peacefully and at some point she had convinced Tamlin to leave his shirt for the day and show off her claiming marks on his back. He had agreed with a deep kiss that almost led to something that would have made them late to lunch, she batted him away and wrapped the robe around her tightly as she rushed across the hall to change into her own clothes for the day. 

Lunch was uneventful and she moved from her normal chair opposite him to one directly to his right, staff chatted between each other with red across their faces as they gossiped. She sat up straight in her chair with a happy and smug smile on her face as everyone eyed Tamlin’s back.

The meetings after lunch however were the thing that made both of their days. They had stood, Tamlin with his back towards the doors of the conference room, while waiting for the nobles to file in. They had done so exactly as the clock in the great hall chimed on the hour, they had all stilled upon entering the room. 

Only one noble had cleared his throat, gathering the new couple’s attention. “Ummm. my lord, it seems you have forgotten something today.”

“Oh? And What would that be?” Tamlin asked the noble amusedly.

“Your shirt my lord, it seems you have forgotten your shirt.” The noble uncomfortably shifted on his feet.

“No actually that's intentional.” Tamlin’s female chimed from his side, and Tamlin smiled down at her.

“My back is too irritated for a shirt, I will have to wait for the scars to fade a bit more before I am able to wear one. Apologies if it makes you uncomfortable or envious.” Tamlin had snorted, the shirt fact was a partial lie his back was obviously irritated yes but he could have totally worn a shirt. Plus he was well aware that the noble questioning him was in an unhappy marriage and his wife was cheating on him with another of the nobles in the room. 

Being high lord made him privy to some information, he took his seat smugly as he pulled his mate, his female, into his lap and he offered all the nobles to sit with a smirk across his face. She nestled into his hold even more knowing she wouldn’t be leaving Spring Court or Tamlin’s arms for a very long time especially when rumors and gossip started spreading about their mating bond, titling her as ‘The Maiden Who Stuck Around’.

[cutthroatcarnival]

Revered Deity, Unknown Hero (10/10)

Warning for canon-typical violence

Read chapters 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7, 8, 9, 10

Find it on AO3 here!

It is finally done! 10 chapters exploring the different aspects of Warriors being the Deity/God of War from different POVs, and culminating all in this final moment. Another major, major thanks to @bokettochild for creating this idea, and for giving me permission to write about it- it's been an incredible experience for me, and I hope for you all as well!

“Find Your Flame” and “Break Through It All” from Sonic Frontiers helped me write this lmao, I think the influence of these songs may make themselves known.

Now, I present:

Unleashed

Warriors kind of wished the nausea from portal hopping would return to him. He was slightly peeved he even still got it, but anything would be better than where they were now; familiarly tiled floors, extravagant windows, rough stone walls, grand pillars, and foreboding doors. His feet felt rooted to the floor, unable to move as he scanned his surroundings, eyes catching on every little detail. His heart felt like it was going to explode as it finally settled in where the ragtag group of heroes had landed.

Just his luck.

A hand on his shoulder startled Warriors, breath hitching as he swallowed down a yelp and yanked himself away from the hand- twisting around and landing in a battle stance. Now in front of him stood a concerned Twilight, calloused palm hovering where it had made contact with the captain, lowering slowly as blue eyes calculated Warriors’ quick breathing and readiness to attack.

“Shit, Wars, are you alright? No, of course you’re not- I’m sorry, but I couldn’t get your attention and you weren’t saying anything or even moving.”

Once his heart felt like it wasn’t going to burst both itself and out of his ribcage, Warriors dropped out of his stance and took a step towards Twilight, “It’s- I’m fine, Twi, just… got lost in thought.” He placed a definitely-not-shaking hand on his fellow hero’s shoulder, “I know where we are.”

Twilight opened his mouth to reply, but was interrupted by thundering footsteps and various shouts. Seven soft pings of magic echoed through his skull, yet he paid them no mind- it had occurred back during the war too, and this place had weird, leftover magic afterall. The first to appear around the doorframe was Wind, who after immediately catching sight of Warriors went barreling towards him, wrapping his arms tightly around the captain’s waist. Next was Time, the piercing white of his eye boring into Warriors as he took stock of the situation. A small, nearly unnoticeable nod was all it took to notify the older that he was alright. The rest of the heroes poured in, with Sky as the very last, forming a vague semi-circle by the door.

“Where are we?” Four questioned, shifting his gaze from Twilight and Time, to Warriors and Wind, a blonde eyebrow slowly rising in confusion. The sailor’s arms tightened around him a little more, and with gentle coaxing and a completely true “I’m okay”, Warriors was able to get Wind to let go, although the youngest hero looked highly unhappy at it.

“We’re in my world,” Warriors walked over to the rest of the group, forcing his prim and proper captain mask back on, and clasped his hands together, “welcome to the Temple of Souls.”

“And what exactly is the “Temple of Souls”? I was deposited in what I assume was a garden, but looking up and seeing myself was a bit unnerving.” Of course someone had gotten spit out in the gardens, he expected it, but right infront of the statue? What kind of joke was this?

Warriors gnawed on his lip, resting his hands on his hips, “The Temple of Souls was- is a battleground. The grounds, the gardens, the halls… all of it. It was the enemy’s ground…” He trailed off- she had definitely made sure everyone would know this place was hers, from the magic to the statues and… portraits.

He forced his gaze to stay on his fellow heroes, “said enemy’s leader had an… obsession with the Hero’s Spirit, to put it lightly, so, in the gardens, statues of heroes of the past were put up.” The captain could see something akin to recognition flash across Legend’s face, if only for a brief second; what did he know?

“Is this place safe to explore, then?” Hyrule piped up, leaning on an irritated-looking Four. Warriors hummed, unknowingly- to himself- sending out a wave of magic throughout the temple. The more magically intuned members shared a glance, partially bewildered at the fact that the scarf-clad hero seemed to be completely unaware of what he was doing.

“It should be, yes. Nothing has happened here since the war ended,” Warriors tilted his head in thought, “I would say we should split up to cover more ground, but you never know what might happen with our luck, so one big group it is.”

With a flourish, Warriors turned on his heel and started towards the nearest keep, letting the conversations of his fellow heroes wash over him. Why were they brought here? Out of all of the places for them to be portaled to, why the temple? There was nothing beneficial here, only the lingering remnants of bitter memories filled the empty halls; it would take a while to get to Castle Town from here. They weren’t dangerously low on supplies, but it never hurt to stock up on necessities. He could conjure up one positive about the situation- not being in his Castle Town meant no drunken jabs at his status and incapabilities.

A hand grabbed his elbow, thoroughly startling him. Warriors turned, raising an eyebrow at Legend, who insistently tugged him off to the side, eyes and face giving nothing away.

“Are you really that dense?” Warriors was affronted at Legend’s question, scoffing as he pulled the shorter hero’s hand off of him.

“Please, if I wanted to be insulted, I’d go to Castle Town. Did you really pull me aside for this?” The captain crossed his arms, staring down at the pink-haired hero with a faint sneer, which was returned by the other.

“No, I would still do this around the others,” Legend stepped closer, “but you really don’t see it? You don’t feel it?”

Warriors furrowed his brows, fully confused at whatever Legend was- poorly- attempting to hint at. He would’ve raised alarm about this being a potential imposter, or hallucination, but something within him told him that this was still his brother. All the captain could offer was a shrug.

Legend stared at him incredulously, “you really don’t know?” A laugh burst out of the shorter, startling Warriors. What did he find so funny?

“What do you mean ‘you really don’t know’?”

The pink-haired hero sucked in a breath, reigning his laughter into small squeaks and snorts. Warriors felt so incredibly lost in this moment- social conflicts were usually his forté, but his brothers were unique, so he wasn’t terribly surprised at being thrown for such a loop. He jumped when he felt something solid smack against his chest.

“Page 357.”

Warriors managed to grab the book before it tumbled to the floor, raising an eyebrow at Legend, who merely gestured with his hand to hurry up. Sighing, the taller flipped through the book until he came to the page. An image greeted him, one that looked familiar…

“I don’t look like that.”

Legend groaned, slapping a hand to his forehead, “you’re an idiot!” Moving his hand away from his head, the shorter jabbed his finger at the large text titling the page.

“The Deity of War? Legend I’m-“

“But you are! Look at that image! Read the text! Everything there reflects the stories you’ve told us!”

He stared at the two pages, the words and image searing into his brain; the Hero of Warriors, otherwise known as the Deity of War. He could feel himself start to shake, was he really…?

A sudden burst of alarm surged through him, causing him to drop the book and bolt, wholly unsure where he was going, ignoring Legend’s shouts behind him. There were panicked pings ricocheting off the inside of his skull- something was wrong. As Warriors ran to Hylia-knows-where, the familiar sounds of battle grew closer, and he pushed himself to go faster.

The door to the keep was wide open, revealing the battlefield- endless monsters were pouring in from the other doors, and in the middle of the enemy sea were his brothers. Only three were standing- Four, Sky, and Time. Warriors could barely make out the shapes of Wind, Four, Twilight, and Wild from where he stood, but even as they were down, he could see arrows flying- supposedly from Wild and Wind. The flood of enemies wasn’t slowing, and he could see that they were weakening and becoming rushed in their panic. In the blink of an eye, Time collapsed onto one knee from a lucky hit, holding his side to staunch the bubbling red flow.

Something snapped in the back of his mind.

-

Time clenched his teeth, refusing to let the growl of pain slip through. A Dynalfo had managed to get a lucky stab that got between his armor plating. The monsters of this world shouldn’t be so overwhelming- yes there were many of them, but they were normally so weak. Sky and Four had collapsed shortly after him, the taller of the two completely unconscious as he fell.

Just as Time feared for the worst, an inhuman roar- reminiscent of one of a dragon- bellowed across the battlefield- a kind that sounded eerily familiar to Time- a bright royal blue light burst out, decimating the enemies. Gold wisps danced around the fallen heroes, seemingly forming a sort of protection. In awe, Time lifted a shaking hand to the divine gold in front of him, and like a fairy, it rested on his palm, warm and familiar. This magic… it felt similar to Fierce Deity’s but at the same time it felt younger.

“Kin! Kin! Kin!” The sealed god chanted.

Then it clicked.

Nearly giving himself whiplash from how quickly he snapped his head up, Time gazed upon the being in the midst of the room. A non-existent breeze made the scarf, decorated in shimmering gold, wave and dance. The wisps of gold and royal blue magic danced across their skin, wafting off of the being like smoke.

Warriors stood in front of them, a faint glow surrounding him as his shoulders heaved. Gone was his green tunic, replaced by a pale cream with black underclothes. His normally silver armor blazed a brilliant gold. Time sucked in an awestruck breath as the captain turned to face them; the familiar blue of his eyes were swallowed by that same burning gold. Markings of the same color adorned his face, following the curves of his temples, forehead, and nose bridge, coming together to form what looked like the patterns of a helmet.

“He has accepted it now.”

Time froze, gaze slowly sliding over to his bag that housed the mask. What did they mean?

“The Deity of War has come home.”

Gentle footsteps brought Time’s attention back to Warriors, who now stood in front of him, a hand outstretched. Fear- something he had never seen on the other before- filled the captain’s face.

“Thank you, Wars.” Time took the offered hand and let the deity pull him to his feet. A short noise of shock emitted from the taller.

“You’re not afraid of this? Of me?”

The older hero felt his heart shatter, he had only ever heard Warriors sound so defeated once before, and that had been back during the war. Did he truly think so little of his fellow heroes? They had faced the odds time and time again, and come out on top, learning your brother- someone you had an instinct to protect- was a deity was new, but it wasn’t scary- he was the same Warriors underneath it all.

“Despite everything, it’s still you under it all, isn’t it? You’re the same annoying older-younger brother I had during the war and this adventure.” Time pulled Warriors into a hug, smiling as he felt the tension leave the other’s body. He screwed his eyes against the flash of light, and the body in his arms grew heavier, gentle puffs of breaths sounded in his ear. Gently, he lowered the two of them to the ground, where the others shuffled around them in a messy semi-circle. Rapid footfalls echoed in the keep, and Time watched with a wince as Legend skidded to a stop on his knees next to Warriors.

“Took him long enough to figure it out.” The shorter snarked, earning an elbow from Twilight. Rolling his eye at the interaction, Time felt a weight melt into his side, and watched as a gentle hand rested on Warriors’ forehead. Sky murmured something in a language too old even for his ears, but his focus was drawn to Hyrule, who had come to Time’s other side and was carefully healing his wound.

“He’ll be safe, Time,” The skyloftian’s exhausted hand patted the part of Time’s arm he could reach, “he’s got us after all.” Sky had slipped off into sleep, fully leaning his weight into Time, who smiled. Warriors would be fine, he wouldn’t be alone to figure this all out. Deity of War, Hero of Warriors, or Link, he was still Warriors, and he’d fight another god before he let that change.

[witch-hazels-musings]

It’s 🍪!

You have this ‘My Sunshine’ (?) fic where the reader is an absolute ball of sunshine and I LOVE it! Could you do a part two with Zhongli, Childe and Albedo please?

Mwah!

My Sunshine

( what an incredible choice of characters! Thank you for adding to one of my favorite fics!! ) 

Warning -> SFW, Fluff

Character X GN Reader | Anthology 

Includes: Albedo, Childe, Zhongli 

Albedo 

It was the way you greeted the world around you - with pleasant smiles, patient hands, caring and compassionate eyes. You saw the world for what it could be, the beauty of it and while Albedo searched for the answer in the universe, you already seemed to have found them 

He noticed you on his wanderings through the city. His hands were already moving to draw your expressions in a hope to capture everything that he possibly could - how could he capture the intensity of the sun itself, of a flower basking in the afternoon glow, or a firefly so vibrant that it burned orange and beautiful 

You were bouncing on your toes, smiling kindly at the people who walked by while you patiently waited for anyone to stop by. Not many people purchased flowers every single day, but you found it wasn’t hard to proposition people with your generous smile and pin-point compliments. 

“My! I have never seen something so beautiful in all my life.” You began, bending to rest your hands on your knees while catching the attention of a small young girl who had been glancing at the array of flowers at your side. She looked at you confused, a bit nervous but didn’t back away. 

Reaching for a small white flower, you trimmed the leaves and hummed a little tune before turning back to her. “A lovely flower like you must attract so much goodness. Even this daisy is impressed by your radiance!" She giggled and you continued, "Would you do me a favor?” You smiled at her, eyes showing only the purest of shine. The little girl nodded her head and you began again, “Could you carry this flower and help it grow? If it's you, I'm sure it'll turn just as beautiful?” 

The little girl wrapped her small fingers around the stem, her smile and giggle so powerful that Albedo was sure you cast a magic spell because as he watched her gallop away back to her parents, the flowers near you began to glisten and the sketch on his page came to life. 

He was unsure how to make a connection with you, so more often than not he would find himself purchasing flowers he didn’t really have the necessity for - but perhaps if he gathered enough up, he’d have a bouquet glorious enough to equal your soul 

“Mr. Albedo, pleasure seeing you again.” You brushed off your apron and turned to him. Your eyes closing and head tilting, a standard greeting of yours. “I have some rather rare flowers in stock today if you’d like to take a look.” 

“I am actually here to inquire if you had any Asters; the research institute has just run out.” 

“Hmm, let me check for you.” You bowed slightly before disappearing behind the many stalls and carriers of your wares. He scanned the flowers as he waited for your return. Gloved fingers inspecting the petals of flowers and, in his wandering thoughts, he began to investigate which one reminded him the most of you. “Mr. Albedo, I am sorry, it seems we are fresh out.” 

“I see …” 

“Ah! However, I needed to gather several other plants today. If you come back tomorrow I will set them aside for you.” You waved at the other worker as if to inform them of your intentions and quickly reached for the basket near the stall. 

“Actually, would it be too much of a bother if I were to travel with you?” 

You paused, staring at him with eyes wide and mouth slightly parted. What was this feeling in his chest, it hurt. “I would never pass up an opportunity to share in your company! What a splendid day this is turning out to be.” 

“Thank you, I will keep out of your way.” 

“Not too much I hope. So, Mr. Albedo, are you ready?” You turned to head toward the front gate and he followed after you. 

“Yes, and please, just Albedo is fine.” 

“Alrighty then, Albedo.” Ah, yes, that’s why his heart hurt. 

There you were, the wind wrapping around you as you stood in a field of flowers - the reflection of light difficult to pinpoint for as bright as the sun shined down onto the plane below, you were just as intense and, in fact, you may be the most luminous creature to ever exist -- how could he possibly reach something like you 

Childe

His world had never been bright -- from the snowy landscape that threatened every day to freeze the warm hearts that beat on its surface, to the dark void that he fought through as an adolescent, to the harsh and demanding ladder he climbed in service to his cause -- he’d never known the light … his had been seized so long ago 

So when he found a flicking candle, a small flame in his dark corridor, he walked to it - ran for it - and to see the glory reflected on the other side was something he fixated on until he could hold the candle safe in his arms 

He clenched his jaw and sighed. These boring briefings were never something he cared to participate in. He was more for action rather than words, so instead of listening to the updates from the short, purple-haired harbinger, he instead gazed out the open window at the city below. 

Liyue had shifted from a temporary destination into a permanent one as the tasks and duties continued to lengthen his stay. At least he didn’t mind the city, not like some of the other places he’d stay at. Just as he was about to drift back to the boring discussion, he heard a voice drift up to him. A lively, giddy voice that stole all of his attention and focus, but as soon as you entered into view his minimal interest piqued into desperation. 

“Wait up! You can’t tell me that this isn’t a beautiful day, just take it all in!” You spread your arms wide and spun with so much energy that the inertia made you stumble, luckily you caught yourself before running into some poor passerby. Childe smiled and rested his chin on his palm as he looked down at the loveliness that was your everything. 

You laughed, and the way your hands flew to your lips to cover the sound made him jealous of those fingers. You spoke, words falling off of your tongue like sugar and he grew antsy at the thought of not tasting it. You existed, and he needed a piece of it. 

Waving to his subordinate, he spoke in a hushed whisper, and while the meeting continued to drone on, he made his first step at capturing a star. 

The more information he gathered, the more interactions he had with you - the more he fell into your luster, the richer his feelings grew for you 

His actions were that of a child just looking for a comforting glow in their endless darkness, hands cupped to keep it alive, breathing held for fear of accidentally blowing it out - stay, please stay 

He called your name, the sound of his voice dissipating in the open space as he searched for any sign of you. 

“Hey there!” You called out to him, and when he looked up toward your voice, he smiled. Your legs dangled off the tree limb, your hands wrapping around the bark as you balanced there. 

“How is the view?” He asked, crossing his arms and staring at you from below. How did you get up there, he wondered. 

“Beautiful, I can see so much from up here. It’s like a whole different perspective.” You breathed in deeply and lifted your arms to reach for the sky above you. “How about you join me?” 

“I’m not sure I can, I don’t even know how you got up there.” 

“Sheer will and determination!” Giggling, he thought maybe you were actually a mythical creature in the fairytales he used to read as a kid. There was no way you could live in this world and be so positive, it had to be you were something beyond this world. “I’ll come down to you.” Twisting, you wiggled onto your stomach before letting yourself drop onto the ground below. It was further than you thought and as soon as your feet hit the earth, your body became off balance and tumbled backward. 

Childe easily caught you, his sturdy chest supporting you and arms extended so your hands could have something to grab onto. 

“Ooh, that was exhilarating.” Tilting your head, you turned to look at him and for a moment he felt his lips scream for yours. He wanted to let you go, but how could you when you fit so perfectly in his arms. “Childe?” 

“You’re something else.” This was dangerous, you were dangerous, and now that he knew what it was like to feel the brightness of the light, he would never let the dark creep back in. 

He needed you - it was apparent - and he hoped one day you’d realize you needed him too. A light like yours truly needed to shine in the darkness of places, so choose his, please choose his 

Zhongli 

There is no one in this world that would understand luster better than he - no one who could see the shine inside a being as clearly as one with eyes who’ve witnessed the birth and eventual death of the universe. The great Morax, the ruthless Rex Lapis, the gentle and patient Zhongli are one and the same, and the visions they’ve witnessed cannot be forgotten 

So, to see a person with purity so refined, that even the dullest observers could clearly recognize, he found it nearly impossible to look away 

He heard tell of a new performer joining the Pearl, someone who had shown great elegance and glorious promise at wowing the crowds. As a man who fancied the arts of all kinds, he was intrigued by the rumors and whispers. So, when the schedule showed the name of this new performer, he made his way to the boat drifting on the sea. 

His lips tasted the sweet flavor of tea but his eyes soaked in the delectable movements of your body. The graceful bow of your spin, the bending and twisting of your limbs as you moved just enough to tell your story on the swaying stage. He felt the history in your dance, the pride in your fluttering fan as you moved it across your face, the snap of truth as you forced it up toward the sky. He was transfixed, as he was sure all were. 

When you finished, you began to greet the many interested patrons eager to hear the sound of your voice. There was no way he could have known how transfixing you would be when he heard it. 

“What a stunning performance.” Zhongli mused, his head bowing, a mirror of your own gesture. 

“That is great praise from someone such as yourself.” You smiled and he was reminded of glaze lilies. 

“Pray tell, what was the inspiration for your dance?” 

“Ah, an insightful question, not unexpected I must say.” You laughed and moved your hands to your chest, elegant fingers resting over your heart as you answered his question. “The light of a soul has so much insight, don’t you think? If the soul is radiant, the vessel's beauty is so easily seen, and if there is beauty shining so brightly that it can communicate out to those who look, it may shift just the tides of the future.” You laughed again, a bit more unreserved than the last, and somehow more telling to your honesty. “I’m sorry, I hope that answered your question.” 

“Splendidly, and then some.” He found himself transfixed, captivated by a spirit shining before him. 

Spending time with you was as refreshing as standing in a mountain stream, as filling as a warm meal, as bright as the basking stars that littered the sky above and reflected in your eyes even in darkness 

“Zhongli, hello again.” He wandered into the garden, the gentle bubbling of the water as it fell along the rocks provided a lovely background to your visage. Carefully, you rested your fingers against the pages of your book as you looked up at him. The shadows of the shifting trees let highlights of the sun dance across your face and he couldn’t help but capture this image in his mind. 

“Good afternoon, you seem to be enjoying the day.” 

“As I always am. Nature has provided such elegant and lovely conditions that it would be a waste to not thank it, don’t you agree?” 

“Wholeheartedly.” He smiled, his hands gripping tighter around each other as they rested against the small of his back. It was incredible how nervous you made him; for a man who was a powerful as the mountains that looked down over the city, you made him feel like a tiny pebble in the stream begging to be touched by you. “May I join you?” 

“Absolutely, anything in this world can be improved by good company, and yours is always my favorite.”

“As yours is mine.” He sat on the stone bench next to you, his hands resting on his lap as he looked out across the scenery. You moved closer to him, your arms touching as you shared in the company of each other and, while his eyes drifted to your face, he watched how your smile and good nature made the flowers bloom. 

You were a compliment to his life. A perfect addition to the drift of time and as he looked at the future that stretched before him, he found your red wrapping perfectly around his amber 

--

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[thecandywrites]

Kinktober Day 26- Collar

Three more left after this. Come on. I can do this.

A billion thanks to @starsandskies for all of her Kinktober prompts which I had to make new masterlist for! Because my old one ran out o links. Apparently a hundred links in the max for a Masterlist.

Enjoy.

The Moura’s Collar

The Great Hunt Begins.

You were one of the first generations born after the convergence only fifty years prior. And while this new supersphere was amazing, many of you were still exploring it. And in those fifty years, you all realized you could enjoy the water producing skyland but also go down even farther and explore the surface and recede your wings and look like a kind of peoples that were known as "humans". Your parents told you that your homeworld was a much smaller world, and the surface was nothing but water. And that red was starting to stain the inky blue waters of home and killing off the waterpeoples of your homeworld. So while your family and all the living things from your homeworld converged onto this great supersphere. That meant that here, there was dry land to explore. And creatures of all kinds that thanks to the magical sun here, you and your kind could transform yourselves into the creatures known as 'birds' but also 'angels' on account of your natural human like appearance with your wings sprouted out.

So far, every peoples of the surface captured birds as food items. And when you touched down as "angels". You were swarmed by the surface dwelling humans to heal the sickness, these large black boils that covered their bodies that afflicted them. At first you interbred with pheonixes to burn whoever tried to hunt you, but the temptation to be on the surface was still too great to ignore. So to keep yourselves safe, you simply pulled your wings back into your body so that you would appear no different than the other humans and be able to walk among them in anomynity.

But so far the moura’s greatest weakness was food since a moura's sense of smell was quite keen. To smell the smoke of things cooking over fires made many of you want to come to the surface to eat it because while the sun gave you all the food and energy you needed, you could still transform the clouds into magnificent palaces and only recently had it been discovered that you could turn the very surface rock into gold and exchange that gold for food, and even gift that gold, molded into pretty little shapes as wedding gifts to be allowed into wedding feasts and festivals the surface dwellers hosted.

You were only a teenager of 17, one of dozens crashing a wedding feast when you were singled out on the dance floor by a ridiculously good looking young man who asked you to dance and you found yourself saying yes. He was dressed spectacularly and he was the brother of the groom and one of the groomsman but not the best man. He was charming and lively and flattered you all night. You danced until your feet were sore but you were young and enchanted yourself by a pretty face. He was wearing the most bewitching cologne too. And you ended up eating from the same plate as him at the feast itself. He ordered you glass after glass of the best wine and heavily spiced foods. But then, one of the last glasses of wine he had you drink tasted weird and before you knew it, you were feeling incredibly drowsy for just a moment, then- blackness. 

When you awoke, you found yourself in a cage, with a strange collar around your neck and other special cuffs around your wrists that were chained to your neck and in turn you were chained to inside the cage and outside of the cage which was in turn was chained to the walls. You could tell you were in a basement of some kind. But there was a large hole in the center of the room where sunlight was streaming down and bouncing off a series of mirrors to beam onto you so that you could recharge from the sunlight. But because of its refracted nature, it was not as powerful as normal sunshine and not nearly as warm but there was no other lightsource in the room, no fire, no candles, nothing and you could not see out into the darkened area at all. 

“Good, you’re awake.” The man from last night smirked when you woke up before your moura cloak instantly became armor over your body but you did not have your actual moura collar, that had been taken off from your neck since the moura cloak had attached itself to you just below where the collar naturally grew from. The cloak itself was your clothing while in human or angel form. But it was the collar that gave you the ability to change from one form to the other.  But otherwise all your other gifts and abilities stayed with you.

Instead, you looked out and saw and felt that he had it as realization hit you like a ton of bricks.

Oh no.

He had lured you and captured you. He had used that feast to do so. You had known others that had already been caught by the collar but regained it once they turned their own body size and weight of surface rock into gold for their captors before they were set free. You were now the next victim. The surface dwellers were becoming too clever. They were now actively hunting you in human form now too. They must be using the gold you possessed as clues as to who and what you really were.

And with him wearing your moura collar, you were now bound to him. Because to mouras and their culture- collars were usually traded with a moura’s mate to signify their union as a couple. As were the laws which governed mouras like you. You were still very young and unmarried, only the men in your household could challenge him and by the looks of his battered state, he already had and had won. 

You were his prize. 

The more this unfolded in your brain the more you withdrew into yourself until you were in a small coiled ball. Without your collar, you could not transform into a bird form as only the cloak would still change into your clothes. But the collar was what you were born with that gave you that ability to shape shift. You were stuck in a human woman’s form. 

“What do you want from me?” You asked him, tears pricking your eyes. 

“I want you to turn everything I bring to you, into gold.” He said simply as he got up and came closer as did a woman next to him. You noticed their matching wedding rings, which you were sure he had not been wearing the night before. He was already married and his wife was already with child. Such a dirty trick.

“You do not wish to marry me so that I can bear your children also?” You asked wearily before the wife gave him a dangerous look. 

“No. All I want you to do is to turn everything I give you into gold.” He repeated. 

“How much gold until I’m free?” You asked him. 

“I’ll let you know when you’ve done it.” He answered. 

“What’s your name?” You asked him, although with this collar, it was very hard to talk, you could only whisper. You knew there was no way you could call out to anyone. 

“Lord Unsae will be the only thing you will call me Moura.” He stated.

Great, he didn’t really care what your name was. All you were, was a moura to him. Prized because you had the ability to turn sunshine into gold as indicated by the finger nail on your pinky finger being painted gold that all mouras wore when they were in a human form and the fifth feather in your wings being gold. That all you needed to do was to touch the pinky finger tip to any object and wish it to be gold, and it would turn into gold. But you had power over this ability and would only “turn it on” when you needed gold to exchange for coins on the surface, otherwise your kind stayed in the clouds themselves. 

But now- no more. You were bound and chained, literally. And the collar around your neck now was heavy and unkind and dug into your skin, impossible to get off because it was made out of natural gold. And natural gold to a moura behaved like any other hard metal. Moura gold behaved like wet clay in a moura's hands. But since it was already gold, you could not transform it into moura gold and take it off. You were stuck here.

Days turned to weeks, weeks turned to months, months turned to years and years turned to decades. You could see your reflection age in the mirror and Lord Unsae aged as well. He aged with more grace than all his rivals because it was your moura collar he wore disguised as special necklace around the back of his neck that helped him do it. He in time made his already large estate into a mansion around you and then a palace. But the room you were in remained the same and such work was done far away from you so that you were never discovered by any other than the Lord’s family. 

He brought you mud bricks that you made into gold bars, he brought you his enemies and after years of abuse, you stopped fighting as he pressed your golden pinky to them and turned even his enemies into solid gold statues which he then smashed and melted down into more gold.

Because of the collar you wore over your own neck, you could hardly talk, let alone speak and the only times you had any contact with other people were the maids who brought you food once a day and a bar of soap and a small basin of water so you could bathe yourself once a week. You combed your hair with your fingers, mindlessly braiding it over and over to fill your time. The isolation was the worst of the torture. You felt you lost your sanity many times. And with the cramped cage, your muscles atrophied and Lord Unsae only fed you enough to keep you alive. Because you were a moura, you never got sick and because he wore your collar, neither did he. But you were sure even if you were to become sick, he would never bring you a doctor. You got just enough sunlight to turn what he brought you into gold and to keep yourself barely alive. 

But you prayed, silently, every day for him to die. You called down so much evil on him and his household, but it was as if the gods never heard you, you were too far away and too concealed for them to hear you, if they even existed any more.

Many sons and daughters were born to him, and they in turn grew up and got married and had children of their own and their children grew up to have children of their own and so forth. All of them looking at you with evil grins because they all felt they owned you. 

Except for one. 

The great grandson of Lord Unsae. He was only 5 the first time he saw you. He did not look at you with the same air of ownership. Instead he saw you for what you had become, a caged animal, worked to the brink of death. He had done something naughty, his punishment was to bring you your daily meal and while he looked intimidated, his eyes showed his sympathy, something you had not seen since your time in the clouds.

"Hello." He greeted you. 

"Hi." Your voice croaked as you tried to greet him back, amazed that you even knew a language anymore. 

After this moment, he came to you every day, he read to you, and befriended you and snuck you more food so that you wouldn’t be skin and bones anymore. He taught you how to read and write in his language, since he himself was learning it from his tutors.

Then one day a few years later, he came down, a determined look in his eyes. 

“Great Grandfather is finally dying and right now, my parents and their siblings are fighting for who will wear your collar next. I’ve been asking about your kind, I have found that if you pitch yourself into a fire- you can be reborn, and his cloak will turn to dust while yours will be reborn with you. That is why no candle or fire has been allowed to burn in here all this time! No one has noticed that I have taken the key- I will build a fire as fast as I can and you must throw yourself into it and fly through this hole in the palace.” He said as he was already loading as much would as he could into the fire place and as much tinder as possible before he lit it and then used the key to finally unlock your restraints before the cage unlocked and you came tumbling out. 

“Move,” you pleaded after he got the collar off and you took the last of your strength and used your pheonix fire to light the wood ablaze before he helped push you into the flames. 

The heat of the flames was a welcome change to the freezing cold you had known all these decades and you welcomed the release from your old woman form. 

And in moments, you were reborn a white dove. Young and full of life again.

“Goodbye my friend,” you bid him before you flew as fast as your wings could carry you and flew faster than his family could run and race down the stairs. You prayed that he wouldn’t be punished too severely for being the most kind in his family of vicious beasts. 

You flew as fast as you could over the sprawling city that was definitely not there when you were taken as a slave. 

You flew until an arrow nearly struck you down and soon there were more arrows coming from just about every direction and one grazed you and suddenly you were falling and you did your best to at least glide in a direction away from the city to the darkness of the country. You were saved from the light of the full moon, healing you partially so that you could continue to fly, spooking a flock of birds from their roosts as they too took to the skies as you did your best to shift and get lost among them before they too seemed to drop from the skies by getting shot at from flying at your sides. 

You were flying as fast as you could before you heard even more arrows loose, these were especially close and you dipped and dove to weave between them but despite your own dexterity and nimbleness, there were just too many of them and you were struck again and you began to fall from the skies and fell right into the chimney of a house in the woods and the fall knocked you around as you fell down the chimney but thankfully you were able to transform smaller from a white dove into a white hummingbird and managed to miss the embers of the flames before landing with a squeak on the stone floor in front of the fireplace. 

“What the fuck?” You heard a growling grunt as you did your best to search for a place to hide before you managed to hobble under a dresser and try to hide as the occupant fumbled with a match to light his bedside table lamp before he used it to look around the room before he noticed a spot of soot on his floor before there was a tiny trail of it leading to his dresser. 

“What in the world?” He whispered as he got down on the floor to investigate it as you did your best to hide from his sight but even for his large size he was able to lay on the floor and look under the dresser and see your broken and battered form trying to limp to a side out of sight. 

“Oh you poor thing, what’s a little gem like you doing under there?” He cooed softly as the tenderness of his tone of voice gave you a moment of pause as you looked out at him and noticed he was an orc, obviously a friendly one though. 

“It’s ok little jewel, you’re alright.” He assured you as he then got up and picked up the giant dresser to reveal you. 

“You’re ok, I’m not gonna hurt you.” He assured you as he then scooped you up into his large hands with all the gentleness he had as you seemed to want to melt into the warmth of his palm before there was a knock on his door which made him instinctively cover you with his hands protectively before he gently put you into the pocket of his tunic over his chest before he threw a robe on and answered the door. 

“What?!” He snarled and the poor bastards at his door quaked with fear. 

“Orc, has a bird flown into your house?” They asked before he frowned down at them. 

“You knock on strangers' doors in the middle of the night to ask strange questions?” The orc asked them. 

“Well you see, we’re hunting a special kind of bird, it is a bird that can change itself, be an eagle one moment and be a dove the next.” They specified. 

“Never heard of such a thing.” The orc frowned deeper. 

“Look we will pay you ten pieces of copper if we can examine your chimney and your house, because we are sure we shot one down and it landed on your house or perhaps in your house and it may be stuck in the chimney.” They offered. 

“Why hunt for such a bird to begin with and why hunt it at night?” The orc asked warily. 

“Um...Because a very rich man has put a bounty on one if we find it and we believe we caught one.” They explained. 

“And how much is he offering?” The orc asked curiously as you sunk deeper into his pocket and bowed your head in defeat, he might just be liable to hand you over right then and there for even a tenth of what you imagined the price would be, or he'll turn you in for the whole amount himself. 

“...fifty copper pieces,” they lied as the orc frowned deeper still at them as you raised your head, that didn’t sound...right. 

“Only fifty copper pieces just so you could spend ten of them looking through my house even if you’re not positive it’s in here?” The orc repeated disbelievingly. 

“Look, it’s a great skill to just capture one, we’ll be famous if we do. That’s what’s really important here and we’re positive it’s in your house or at least in your chimney or even on your roof, there’s no sign of it anywhere else.” They tried to justify. 

“Well let me at least get pants on.” He said as he shut the door and did get some pants before he silently moved the dresser back into place and smudged the soot on the floor with his foot to hide your entry before he opened the door and opened his palm before they paid their ten copper pieces and they started scouring his simple house as he folded his arms over his chest, his hand subtly cupping around you so that even if you did move, they wouldn’t be able to see it as he mentally hoped that you would stay quiet and still in his pocket while they looked.

You practically held your breath and closed your eyes and mentally cried out to every god who would listen to not let this orc reveal you.  

“Did you hear anything perhaps hit your roof?” They asked hopefully before the orc heard people climbing on his roof and frowned at their footsteps on it. 

“Nope, but if they put a hole in the roof, they're paying to fix it.” The orc shook his head no with a glare at his own ceiling before narrowing his eyes at the intruders who gulped and assured them that if they damaged anything, they would replace it and buy him something newer and better than what he already had.

"So did you hear anything hit your roof or your chimney?" They asked.

“No. I'm a heavy sleeper.” He offered. 

“Then why were you up?” They asked. 

“I had to take a shit. What business of yours is it?” He snarled angrily before they ducked away because they could tell his patience was wearing thin and they were already pushing their luck getting this far. 

“Well… If anything does come out of that chimney, we’ll be staying at the Fire Poke Inn in Griswalk.” They offered since that was the orc's village nearby before they left.

Once they were gone and the orc made sure all of them were gone and off of his roof and actually leaving and not trying to stay behind somewhere before he checked on his animals to make sure they were ok. He went back inside and he peeked into his pocket to see you blinking up at him practically smiling at him in gratitude before he reached in to scoop you up out of his pocket, still ever gentle with you. 

"Let's get you cleaned up little jewel." He offered before he got a shallow bowl and poured some warm water in it and got a bar of soap.

You happily dipped in the water before you rubbed yourself onto the soap and did your best to clean yourself in your bird form because you would be damned if you ever showed your true form until you were safely back home.  

"You really are a little jewel, you look like a piece of white opal. But don’t worry, you’re safe here." The orc appraised as he noticed how your white feathers shimmered and flashed the most exquisite colors over the white along with your tiny dark turquoise eyes as he bent over and laid his head on his folded arms on the bench he had put you on and continued to watch you clean yourself in curious amusement.

Once you had washed all the soot and dirt off before you tried to dry off on the fabric of his robe before he lifted his hand slowly before he gently used the tip of his finger to pet you before he noticed that you had a bare ring around your neck, like you had been wearing a collar and he could see gold shimmering dots on the skin on the back of your neck. 

"What kind of horrible person would put a collar on a hummingbird?" He asked himself rhetorically before he got some medicinal goup that he had made to smear on his own cuts and the wounds of his animals and tried to wipe it on your neck which you stretched out and let him do. It stung a little at first before it felt cool on your skin and you knew just by the smell that it was homemade healing balm.

For the first time, you felt at peace and safe. You rested in his warm palm as he did his best to try to find something to make a little nest out of but couldn’t find anything of the few possessions he had that were suitable before he noticed you were fast asleep in his warm palm before he got back into bed and gently moved you to the center of his chest which made you wake up before you sleepily but happily walked from his palm to his chest and curled up in his soft chest hair before you settled back into sleep. 

The next morning there was another loud banging knock on the door which woke you up before you did your best to crawl back into the orc’s pocket as you shook with terror. 

“It’s ok little jewel, I’ll get rid of those pesky bastards.” He breathed in a whisper as he got up and put his robe back on.

“What?!” The orc roared as he opened his door and the poor bastards nearly shit themselves when he did.

“Um, did you see any birds in your chimney or perhaps it fell into your fire?” They asked hopefully. 

“Would you pay me another ten pieces of copper if I said yes?” He asked and they shook their heads yes. 

“Then no, the only birds I have are the ones out back and they’re in the coop or on a spit. I haven’t seen any sign of any other.” He answered and even to your ears that sounded like the truth. 

“So what’s so special about this bird again?” He asked as he crossed his arms over his chest and leaned against his doorway, his hand once again subtly cupping over you in his pocket. 

“It’s a magic bird, it can change from an eagle to a dove to finch and everything in between, it’s only ever a white bird but it looks like a gemstone, like white opal with the fifth feather on each wing being gold.” One of them answered. 

“Is that so? And a rich man just woke up one morning and decided he wanted one to add to his collection?” The orc guessed and they didn’t shake their heads no and didn’t shake their heads yes either as they gave each other a myriad of meaningful looks to not say anything but the orc could tell he guessed pretty close to the truth. 

“Well, you see he already had it but it escaped its cage and flew away and he wants it back.” They slowly answered. 

“Oh, I see. Well, sorry, can’t help you, you’re more than welcome to pay me another 10 copper pieces to look around if you’d like.” He shrugged before they readily did and looked at his chimney and looked in his ashes. 

“So even if it fell into the fire and burned up you’d be able to offer it’s carcass and get a reward?” The orc asked as he watched them closely. 

“Well, it’s also a bit of a phoenix because even if it dies by fire, it’ll rise from the ashes.” They answered. 

“And only fifty copper pieces to catch such a bird?” The orc repeated before they all looked at each other but didn’t say anything. 

“Uh huh.” The orc grinned knowingly. 

“Look the longer it takes for us to find it, the less the reward will be, we’ll give you an equal share of it, whatever it ends up being, if it does come out of your chimney or whatever. If it’s in the chimney, it won’t be pristinely white, so if any bird comes out of your chimney or fire or whatever, please, catch it and bring it to us.” They pleaded but the orc just raised a brow at them before they realized that they weren’t going to get any further before they looked under the furniture and soon gave up as the others in their party inspected the other birds he had on his property. But obviously, with no success. 

Once they were gone, the orc went ahead and got dressed in some work clothes, setting you down on his table again so he could do so before you transformed into a white cockatiel so you could talk to him easier. 

“Why did you protect me?” You asked him as you watched him before he turned back to realize you had changed and just smiled fondly, you still looked like you were made out of opal though.  

“Because you probably escaped for a reason.” He answered you. 

“What makes you say that?” You asked as you tilted your head before he came over to you. 

“This, you were obviously a slave of some kind.” He mused as he got some more goop and applied it to your neck, granted it was easier now that you were bigger, of course now that he could, he could see that the gold dots on your neck were actually a design of some kind. 

“You’re right, I was a slave.” You confessed as you let your head droop as your wings sagged. 

“Not anymore, and not ever again- hopefully, at least if I can help it.” He reassured you as he gently put his finger under your beak to bring your head back up so he could gently smile at you.

“Although, you’re in pretty poor condition. When you regain your strength, we’ll see about getting you wherever you need to go, surely you have a kind or a home somewhere that you’d like to return to.” He mused before he finished and walked back over to the dresser to pull out more clothes to change into. 

“How can you tell?” You asked him curiously. 

“I keep chickens and waterfowl, most birds are pretty similar, you should be plump, I can see your breastbone from here, you’re practically skin and bones despite your pretty feathers.” He noted. 

“And the nearest rich house is King Unsae, he’s richer than the gods themselves. It wouldn’t surprise me if he has a collection of everything under the sun. It doesn’t matter how much money he’s offering to get you back, he’s a mean son of a bitch even to people he doesn’t own. So I can’t imagine how he must have treated you and if you were able to escape him, I couldn’t live with myself if I had a hand in selling you back into slavery. It’s just not right.” He offered as you laid down on the counter and looked away sadly before you raised your head at that last bit of sentiment. 

“Thank you.” You thanked him, starting to feel better already. 

“So what do you eat?” He asked. 

“I can eat just about anything I suppose.” You answered. 

“That’s good. Even meat and stuff like that?” He asked thoughtfully. 

“I haven’t had meat in forever, yes, I can definitely eat meat.” You practically beamed as you perked up. 

“Well there should still some scraps on the carcass on the spit.” He said as he came and picked you up to bring you over to it before you got off the spit and began to dig in. 

“Thank you.” You thanked him again. 

“You sure are a polite little thing.” He chuckled as he checked the dough fermenting and rising in a large bowl on the counter before he restoked the fire next to you since the spit swung out from the fireplace. 

“You give me reasons to be.” You returned as you continued to pick the carcass clean. 

“How many chickens do you have?” You asked curiously as you walked around the carcass to make sure you got every little bit. 

“Pft, well over two hundred, probably closer to three hundred. I breed them, both for food and for eggs and most of my clutches already hatched so the hens are back to laying regular eggs.” He answered. 

“The name is Garth by the way.” He introduced himself. 

“What’s your name?” He repeated before you tried to remember what you used to be called before you were in Lord Unsae’s servitude. 

“I don’t know,” you shook your head. 

“It’s been too long to remember.” You confessed. 

“Opal?” He suggested before you nodded in agreement to that as he put on his apron and started to knead some bread dough and make his own breakfast. 

He smiled fondly at you before he left for a moment and returned with a handful of eggs and he went back to the fire and took you and the carcass off the spit so he could use it to put his cooking pots and pans on it and set the carcass on the counter so you could still continue to glean what you could off of it before for the first time in years, you were full. 

You watched curiously as he cooked himself some breakfast and once it was done he offered you some of everything he cooked which you graciously took and ate until you were absolutely stuffed, your croup bulging from your neck for the first time in years.  

“Well, wanna join me while I do my chores?” He asked. 

“Sure.” You readily agreed before he picked you up and put you back into his pocket, even in this form, you could easily fit all of yourself into his pocket and even hung onto the edge of the pocket like a woodpecker hanging onto a tree with your head poking out and looking at everything and taking advantage of his body heat. Once you left the house you noticed how there were literally at least a couple hundred chickens all around the house as most hens now had at least a dozen chicks each of a rainbow of colors, all foraging in the grass and in the woods beyond as there was a small cart path in the grass that led to his house from the road. 

“Wow.” You breathed in awe before he took you to the various henhouses he had to collect all the other freshly laid eggs, filling huge baskets full. 

“Wow, I didn’t know eggs could come in so many colors.” You noted from his pocket which made him crack a grin. 

“Yeah, they come in all kinds of colors.” He agreed as you picked the different ones up to show you as you noticed they came in a rainbow of hues. From white to cream to super light pale pink to all kinds of tans and browns, some speckled even and others so dark brown they looked like they could be made out of chocolate. Others were every shade of green and greenish blue and some still were pure blue! Then he went to other coops where game birds were, game birds and quails to collect their eggs too, their eggs got put into a special shallow bowl. He even had a pond on his property where he kept ducks and geese and even a few turkeys around and got thier eggs too as you saw all the baby ducks and geese and swans swim in the large pond next to his house as they were tame enough to take food from him.

“I really landed in the right place, you have all kinds of birds.” You mused. 

“Yeah you did.” Garth chuckled as you watched as he took care of all of his animals.

He had a few pigs, and a couple of milking cows and a few goats and sheep too. He even had two big draft horses and you could tell he actually loved his animals, calling most of them by name and treating them with tender loving care and used excellent husbandry skills to make sure all of them were in good health and well fed.

Once he was done taking care of them, he went through his garden and harvested some produce from it and once he was done with that, he went through his eggs and organized them by color and size then he took some wild flowers and ground them up to give you orange cheeks and put some tumeric in water and had you take a bath so that you were all yellow so you looked like a normal cockatiel then hitched up a horse into his buggy and rode into town, the orc town of Griswalk, to sell his eggs. 

But once there, he noticed some men he recognized from King Unsae post a reward poster, offering 5 thousand gold pieces for “a white magical bird’s return" in the town’s square. You looked worriedly from the poster up to him. Now that was a sum that would make any man think twice. 

“Don’t you worry none. I can barely read so it's like I don't even see it.” He reassured you as he pet your head tenderly and scratched your head and went about his business.

He sold his eggs to his neighbors and townspeople and using said profits to buy feed and a few supplies and food stuffs, getting compliments on you everywhere he went as kids especially wanted to pet your head from his shirt which you allowed before you noticed that different orcs also had birds too, mostly hawks and owls though, a few with parrots and some with other cockatiels who took a great interest in you. So to see an orc with a cockatiel, wasn’t much of a stretch and seen as normal.

Garth told everyone that he had had you for months and that he had hatched you himself and that it was his first time taking you out of the house as they all marveled at how you could talk, and talk so well like a person. 

“That was fun.” You said once you got back to Garth’s house. 

“Good, I’m glad you had fun. When was the last time you were outside?” He asked. 

“I’m not sure, it’s been a very long time. The only sunshine I ever got was refracted by mirrors.” You answered. 

“Why only refracted sunlight?” He asked. 

“Because I get my magic from sunshine- but he could not risk me being seen through a window. Or else my bretheren may have rescued me sooner.” You answered. 

“What did you do for him?” He asked carefully. 

“I don’t wish to talk about it.” You shook your head no. 

“Ok, then don’t. I don't need to know and if it's painful or uncomfortable to even talk about it, then don't. I was just curious. You don't owe me any kind of explanation." He reassured you, not being upset or mad that you were keeping that information to yourself. 

Over the next few weeks, you grew stronger and bigger and he tended to your wounds and before you knew it, your feathers grew in around your neck again, revealing a gold ring that thanks to the tumeric baths was still yellow like the rest of you. You could fly around his house with ease and bask in the sunshine coming in through the windows, all the while taking tumeric baths to stay yellow.

You often perched yourself on his shoulder and talked with him. The only times he wasn’t with you is when he went to the outhouse or simply let you hang out in the trees when he bathed in the stream that left the lake so that the soapy water wouldn't disturb the animals that kept to the lake itself.

Otherwise you continued to sleep on his chest at night and ate from his plates and bowls and drank from his cups. You really liked the water coming from his well and streams, because it was sweet and delicious. But when those men returned to look for you, you hid in plain sight in his pocket. 

In the meantime the reward for you only increased. What was once 5 thousand pieces of gold turned to 10 then 15 then 20, now it was 25 thousand pieces of gold and there seemed to be a hunt for you and all of them started at Garth’s farm.

Garth continued to rake in his own fortune from people paying to look it over, all of his chickens and other birds looked over and all of his white birds sold for handsome prices. All while you stayed hidden right in his shirt pocket in a beautiful pale yellow and when others asked, he claimed that he had hatched you himself but that you were lame, that your wings were disfigured and broken beyond repair and that there was no way you could have flown before they continued to look elsewhere. 

When you spotted a nest of hawks you got a great idea, you plucked out a few of your own unstained feathers and stuck them in the nest as if looking like you had been fed to the hatchlings and once others came and paid Garth to climb all of his trees, your “remains” were found. 

The new King Unsae’s wrath burned so badly you could practically feel the heat from his great castle from your place in Garth’s home. But instead of being in fear, you felt happy that he was never going to get you or any other moura into his palace ever again. The new King Unsae begrudgingly paid a few gold coins just for the feathers and ordered that the reward posters be taken down and gave up. But even he was aged and quickly died, before his son followed him into the grave too. And their many wives quickly following them to death soon after.

Leaving only the boy who had freed you was left to rule in his great grandfather's place. King Edgar Unsae. Now aged 9.

And his first act as king, was that it was now illegal to capture and detain any magical beings, specifically mouras and if any were rumored and found out, they would be put to death. As all the white birds Garth had sold were given back to him for free. Because many didn't even want to chance having a white bird in their possession. But Garth knew that they were just plain birds. No magic, nothing special, other than the color.

And by now Garth had used all that money to expand his humble house and rebuild the roof and even spruced up the barn and bought more land around his farm and his lake and streams and put up many 'no trespassing' signs all around it.

King Edgar Unsae had everyone in his family who had ever had a hand in keeping you bound and captive or kept such knowledge a secret to keep you enslaved- were then kept captive to their own rooms. For what they imposed on you- would be imposed on them until their dying day. And because he was king, and an absolute ruler, he was obeyed without question among his other subjects. Even his own mother was not allowed to rule as his Queen Regent or Consort.

And when his mother staged a coup, with the rest of the remaining family, King Edgar had the very same collar and chains that you had worn for so long were put onto them as punishments as they too were put into the very dungeon you once resided in, with no candles, or fires allowed. They too were confined to cages the exact same size as the one you were kept in and recieved the same treatment they once inflicted on you. And the servants who were once tasked with feeding you were locked in there with them to serve thier duties, so that he alone was the only one left with the guilty memory of how his family came to be royalty and have monarchy. As he then freed every slave in his kingdom and freed every bird in the managerie, just in case any other had been caught accidentally.

And soon those that had once hunted you- moved on and far away so that you would never see them again. As it finally seemed that your prayers were answered, and done so in style.

Then things returned to normal, at least, according to Garth. But by that time, it was now fall. And he was getting his newly improved houes ready for the winter that was fast approaching.

“So where should you be flying home to?” Garth asked one day as he was gathering pumpkins from his garden as you played peekabo from the foliage as he caught sight of birds flying south for the winter and looked back at you with a bittersweet smile, feeling like at any moment, you would do the same.

“I don’t know. Have I overstayed my welcome?” You asked worriedly. 

“No, of course not. You can stay until the end of time if you wanted to. I’m in no hurry to get rid of you, but you’ve been away from home for who knows how long, I’m sure they have missed you.” Garth reassured you. 

“Well it is the fall, I hear how the other orcs ask you if you’re going to be “reaping” this year. Will you?” You asked him curiously as you walked over to him before hopping up on the pumpkin and then climbed up his arm as he lifted it and put it into his wheelbarrow. 

“No, not this year.” He shook his head no. 

“Can I ask what it is and why not?” You asked. 

“Reaping is what we call our tradition of getting a mate.” Garth answered. 

“Oh. Then why don’t you? You have a lovely farm and you’re a respected and cherished member of your society. Your house has good foundations and while it’s humble, it’s charming and cozy and full of love and comfort. You make a good living doing what you do. Don’t you want to share that with anyone?” You asked softly as you rested on his shoulder and looked at him thoughtfully.  

“I already share it with you, I don’t need anyone else.” He reassured you. 

“But I’m no slave to you, I could leave tomorrow.” You softly argued. 

“You could, and I would be grateful I got to be your friend while you were here. And that would be enough.” He insisted and your heart was overcome with warmth while a twinge of guilt remained.

“But don’t you want a mate who could be with you forever or until the two of you part in death right? I’m not..I shouldn’t keep you from that.” You posed as you felt guilty that you were the reason he wasn’t looking for a mate. 

“You’re not keeping me from that. I’m content with what I have and where I am.” He reassured you. 

“I have never met anyone like you, you are content with what you have, even as humble yet dignified as it is. I have never known anyone who was content with what they already have, everyone I’ve ever known has been greedy, always asking for more and more. What makes you so different?” You asked curiously. 

“I grew up poor, I learned early on that life is what you make it, and who you share your life with. Not your possessions. Possessions can be stolen, taken away, bought and sold. LIfe does not result in the stuff you can accumulate. Only the impact you make on others around you.” He professed as he wheeled his produce into his house so he could start preparing it to stay in his root cellar under the house itself.  

“And that’s why I will stay then, but I need you to know what I did for Lord Unsae.” You said as you flew down from his shoulder to the counter in front of him before you extended your wings to show off that fifth golden feather. 

“Have you heard of a moura?” You asked. 

“No,” he shook his head as that made you frown. Surely everyone knew what a moura was. But maybe they all learned their lessons from your example and stopped coming to the surface just in case they get captured and maybe you had been in Lord Unsae’s servitude so long that all memory of your brethren had faded from memory. 

“Have you ever heard of ‘the Midas touch’? That everything Midas touched, turned to gold?” You asked him thoughtfully. 

“Let me guess that’s what those gold feathers are for?” Garth guessed as you nodded your head yes. 

“At first, he asked me to turn everyday objects into gold, then it was mud bricks, stamped and molded into the shape of gold bricks that I would turn for him. Then he used me on his enemies, at first I refused to turn people to gold but he had me bound by chaining me up and no matter how much I struggled, he wore special gold tipped gloves and pushed me onto his enemies and turned them to solid gold at the threat he would break my limbs. Then he broke them down into chunks and melted them down into gold bars and I have been enslaved in his dungeon ever since. I have seen three generations of his family grow up, and a fourth enter childhood. All of them more cruel than he was. Then a few years ago, he finally got really sick, and his young great grandson, Edgar, the only kind person in that family- took over taking care of me, he fed me enough to gain some strength. He’s was only 5 when he started to care for me. Then a few months ago, as his great grandfather lay dying in bed while his children and grandchildren fought and bickered about who would be bound to next, he stole the key. He started a fire and he set me free by pushing me into it and I was reborn as I am. It was very painful but a relief to finally be free. But once I escaped out of the dungeons thorugh the path that the light took to give me refracted sunlight, I did so, only to emerge to find that the once humble house is now a palace and that what was once a small village is now a huge sprawling city. Built by the very gold I turned while enslaved to him..” You confessed as you started crying.

Garth covered his mouth as he stared at you in horror, tears starting to run down his cheeks before he picked you back up to hold you to his chest once again and pet you.

"I swear on my life, that I will never let anything or anyone ever hurt you or enslave you ever again. I will protect you and give up everything I have if it means keeping you safe. I will take you back home and back to your bretheren myself if I have to." He swore before he took you to bed, letting you lay on his chest again and pet you until you fell asleep, cooing soft soothing words to you the whole time. 

Come morning, Garth got the surprise of his life to find you in your true form, a young woman, with wings like an angel, sleeping on his chest. Your long blonde hair falling all over as he gingerly reached out and stroked your soft hair, moving it out of the way on your face and once he did, he felt he could recognize you in your sleeping form. You were practically naked on top of him, wearing a simple silk gown under his covers and he looked down to see your hands as the pinky finger nail was painted gold as your hands were grasping the covers to make sure all of yourself was covered and comfortable as your soft wings were at his sides. He could still recognize the same opalescent shimmer in them, from the few that he could see in the morning light. He gently let his hands settle on the small of your back as he noticed you had some curves and softness to you. He was scared to blink or to really breathe, for fear he was dreaming this. 

How many times had he fantasized that you were more than just a bird, a human or a humanoid kind of person rather? Countless by now. He looked down and realized you were ridiculously gorgeous and he was so unworthy. He was just a poor farmer. He didn’t have much to offer you but a hard life of hard work. But he found himself in a conundrum, should he keep you here and keep you safe? Or let you go and find your family, wherever they were? Then he realized he would probably sell everything he did have to go with you to find where you belonged as he mentally worked out who he could sell everything to before you woke up as your head was over his chest and his heart thumping woke you up. 

“What’s wrong?” You asked as you woke up and lifted yourself to look around before you looked down at him before you noticed your hands splayed out on his chest supporting you as he looked up at you in both fear and stunned silence. 

“Oh gods,” you began to freak out as you did your best to get off of him and away from him before he gently reached out to keep you near but didn’t actually grab you. 

“It’s ok, it’s ok, you’re ok, I’m not gonna hurt you, no matter what form you take Opal.” He reassured you as he sat up in bed and simply let his hands stroke down your arms as you sat on your knees at the foot of his bed. You looked up at him as the fear slowly left you and you stayed sitting there as your dark aquamarine eyes searched his dark brown ones for any trace of dishonesty and didn’t find any. Still the same old Garth you had come to trust and admire, adore and love.

“You’re not...disappointed I’m not a bird?” You asked warily. 

“No. Not disappointed at all.” He shook his head as he slowly let his hands fall from you now that you weren’t going to flee from him. 

“Relieved though.” He blurted before he could stop himself. 

“Relieved?” You frowned in confusion. 

“Yeah,” he rubbed the back of his neck as he smiled bashfully while his cheeks darkened as you sat on your knees and ducked your head to catch his gaze again.

“I’ve sort of um, been falling in love with you? And I thought I was going crazy falling in love with a shape shifting bird.” He confessed. 

“A moura.” You supplied, a gentle smile on your lips. 

“My kind, they’re called mouras. Kind of like selkies or swan maidens but a little different. The kind of persons that can change their form and shape.” You revealed.

You pulled his blanket tight around you and your wings as you retold what had happened to you the last time you were in this form. And how you had been captured and the true extent of your slavery. You told him more about your kind, where they lived, what they did. And what year you remember it being when you were younger, before Lord Unsae was in your life before Garth told you that that was actually about 200 years ago and that the old King Unsae was practically ancient and had outlived all of his many old wives in that time and all of his previous children too since most humans rarely lived past a hundred since the convergence. And that it was most likely your collar and only your collar that kept that old bastard alive even that long.

But to him, it was like you had barely aged at all, maybe a few years at the most.

The rest of the day was just nothing but awkward as you tried to make breakfast with him and tried to make yourself useful by collecting all the eggs. But thanks to your moura collar and cloak your clothes changed into what you had seen the other women wear in his village but then it was time to go into town to sell the eggs as you wanted to go, but at the same time, weren’t sure you wouldn’t be spotted and immediately turned over as you kept looking at your wings as if you had never seen them before as more and more of your past before your servitude began to come back to mind. But you didn't want to use them. And you feared what others would do or how they would treat you if they saw them.

“You don’t have to come with me into the village.” He excused as you were still trying to sort the last of the eggs as you got used to the weight of your wings again.

“If you don’t want me to, I don’t have to. I don’t want to be spotted, or recognized and turned over.” You shook your head no as you finished up and put them into the special carton he had made out of special paper pulp. 

“You wouldn’t be recognized or spotted. You can literally say you’re a local girl from the city who came to buy chickens from me and decided to come with me to the orc village to see what else they had to offer.” He countered. 

“I don’t even have any money, how would I buy anything? I can’t change gold like I used to. I mean just look at me? No one else looks like me. No one else has these wings. I don’t want anyone to…” You began to spiral as tears glazed your eyes as you sat sideways in his large chair and rebraided your hair, simply out of anxiousness as your wings nervously shook and fluttered but you didn't dare try to use them to fly as they hung down behind the back of the chair.

“I know. And I vowed that you’d never turn anything into gold, ever. And I mean it. You should not feel like you need to earn your keep around here.” He reminded you. 

“But aren’t I going to be eating more than my bird form usually did?” You asked. 

“Yeah, I would certainly hope so. Look, don’t worry. I’ll take care of us. The garden was especially bountiful this year. There will be more than enough food to feed the both of us very well.” He reassured you. 

“So just, hang tight. I’ll go to town, sell what I can, buy what I need and I’ll be back. But when I go, bolt the door and stay inside if you feel safer inside. Or you can still go home if you would prefer.” He offered as you nodded in understanding before he left and you watched from the windows as he did so. But looking around now, you didn't want to go home. Because you felt that if you tried, you'd never be allowed back here again. You loved Garth you wanted his home to be yours too. You wanted to be Garth's mate. And that finally seemed to click. Now that you were in this form, Garth, could in theory, reap you as his mate instead and in an instant, your wings receeded back into your body, much to your relief.

You immediately went outside and got some mud and reformed the same mud bricks you turned all those countless times before. You were going back to that gods forsaken city and buy everything you wanted to really make this house your home. You didn’t want to go back to the cloud realm. You didn’t want to leave. You wanted to stay with him. And find a way to make this work. Even as awkward as today had been. Today was the first time he was really seeing you, the real you and he knew your past and he was still dead set on protecting you if you wanted him to. So since he had spent the last few months taking care of you, you wanted to take care of him too. 

You transformed into a hawk and flew with the bar of gold and transformed back into a young woman, your clothes mimicking the other clothes of the women in the city as you entered it, the bar of gold hidden in the folds of your garments that your collar and cloak gave you. You went to the money changers and read and understood the money system. 

“Yes?” The money changer asked. 

“Hi, my grandfather died and I received this as part of my inheritance. I wanted to exchange it for coin please.” You said as you gave it to him. 

“Wow, quite the inheritance. Yeah, sure, a classic imperial bar, is worth…” He began as he gave you the fair price for it in coin.

You were happy to take the sacks of coins and put them on the front of your belt under your own cloak before you went shopping, first buying another set of draft horses and a cart and their tack. And you had helped Garth with his horses enough that you knew how to handle a cart and went to the market and bought everything you wanted and desired, spices of every kind. And thick heavy blankets and more fabric to make clothes and needles and threads and all kinds of food stuffs and seeds and grains for bread that should last you through the winter, along with more food stuffs than you were sure could be eaten in a year or even five. But it was a start. You even got new pots and pans and a set of actual silverware and pretty ceramic plates.

You made sure you did not spend all of your money. Just in case you needed to duplicate the actual coins. Then you made your way back to Garth’s house and were happy that you got back before he did as you hurriedly and happily unloaded the whole cart’s worth of goods into the house before you brought the horses into the barn and put the cart behind where Garth usually kept his and used unused stalls for your new horses and gave them hay and feed. You put the tack next to where Garth usually put his tack in the barn before you went back inside to fully unpack everything. Then you started to make something for dinner, using recipes from the food vendors and other cooks in the city where you had eaten lunch. You were sure it would be finished cooking when he would come back. You used what you had bought and it was ready just about the time that Garth came back, his own cart full of things too before he opened up his house to see what you had done to his house. 

“So, uh, where’d you go today?” He asked as he looked at the new things around his house curiously. with the ghost of a grin on his full lips.

“To that gods forsaken city. You said you would not ask me to make more gold. But I wanted to, if only to really make this house into my home.” You answered with an easy smile as you looked over one of the many new books you had gotten both for yourself and for him that you read from your own special chair that was across from where he always sat at his little table as new candles were in new candle holders and wonderful incense was burning in an incence holder to fill the house with it's soothing fragrance.

“Oh, ok. So, you’re staying, that’s good. I wish you could have told me that wanted all of this, I could have bought it. I still had all that money from selling all my white birds this summer.” He gestured to it. 

“Do you not like it?” You asked.

“No! I do. I’m honored and flattered you troubled yourself, but you didn’t need to. But I’m happy you felt free to do so in the first place. Because you’re always free to do whatever you want, and whatever it would take to help you feel at home here.” Garth answered. 

“Good. Need some help?” You asked as you nodded to his full cart. 

“You don’t have to..” He tried to wave off but you simply smiled and slipped into your new winter boots you had bought and pulled your wings back in and pulled on a coat you had bought too to help him carry it all in. 

“You’re way stronger than I thought you’d be.” Garth realized. 

“Thanks.” You chirped as you did what you could. 

“How’d you get all of this here? Did you fly it here or…?” Garth asked. 

“No. I flew to the outskirts of the city but then I changed into this and walked right in, they thought I was a local and I bought another pair of horses and a cart and then bought it all and loaded it up into the cart and drove it here. I did see some humans in your orc village but humans mainly keep to the city, I figured I’d blend in better there. Plus I have what the imperial gold brick practically ingrained into my mind body and with the explanation that I got one as part of an inheritance, it was easy to pass off as any other I’ve made before. So the money changers were happy to give me it’s worth in coins. And from here, I can make the little coins much easier than the bricks. It’s a simple symbol stamped into the coin to denote the value of it.” You explained as you showed him the few you had already made while you waited for dinner to cook over the hearth as they were indistinguishable from the others while also showing him the others you had made that were used in his village from the bowl of clay and other ceramic tools nearby to sculpt the coins perfectly out of clay first before turning them into gold.

“So... about the reaping…would you want me to...” You began to say before Garth simply reached out and gently cupped your cheek to pull your face up to him before he softly pressed a kiss to your lips as you reached out to grab him to pull him flush with yourself as you initiated for the kiss to deepen. Which was all he wanted and needed as permission to kiss you the way he had fantasized about all day.

Only a heartbeat later, he picked you up and carried you over to the bed as your clothes seemed to lesson and vanish right in his hands once you freed your feet of their boots and your shoulders of that coat before he laid you down on that bed of furs he just bought and laid over the bed as he could not get his own clothes off fast enough. 

“Am I squishing you or hurting you?” He asked worriedly as he suddenly remembered how much bigger he was than you and suddenly had to hold himself up to keep himself from hurting you, even accidentily.  

“Nope. not at all.” You reassured him before his cock finally entered you as you blew out a breath of relief that your womanhood stretched to accommodate his size. 

“Fuck.” He cursed as he seated himself in you, both in relief and in surprise he was able to do so. 

“Bad?” You asked worriedly but he shook his head adamantly. 

“No, too good. I feel like I’m gonna cum right now and you need your pleasure first.” Garth admitted. 

“Then go slow.” You urged him as you pulled him closer while your ankles were happy to cross behind the small of his back to keep him there. 

“I’m trying.” Garth blew out a shaky breath but a bright smile before he finally chanced a slow, stroke and your eyes closed in serenity to feel him in you and all around you. Your own Garth. You own provider and protector. The only one you wanted and needed.

Then the more he picked up the pace, the more pleasurable it was for both of you before you finally, after so long, finally got your own release as it had been far too long since you got to have one and no sooner than you had before Garth finally let himself cum and overstuffed you practically as you were pretty sure he was filling every inch of your womb with his seed as you only hoped it would take root. 

“Oh gods I was so scared I was going to come home to find you had gone and be gone for good.” Garth admitted as he laid protectively over you and kised you sweetly all over your face.

“No, never. But while you’re an orc and while you can’t partake in my union traditions, which is both mouras will exchange collars, I hope this will be a nice and good alternative.” You offered as you slid the two matching rings that were on his nightstand that you had made earlier and slid them onto his ring finger like you had seen other married persons do both in his village and in the city before you slid a matching one onto your own ring finger.

“I love it. It’s perfect. I don’t need a collar. I just want you, and for you to be happy. That’s all I’ve ever wanted.” Garth offered as he marveled at it. 

“And I want you to be happy and content, both with your life and with me.” You offered. 

“I am, perfectly happy and content. Even if you never make another drop of gold. Even if you never buy or do anything else. Just sharing this house with me so we both call it home is already more than enough.” He reassured you. 

“It’s home, but only because you call it home too. I’ve lived the last 200 years in a cage in a dungeon of a palace. To live free, and to be loved and cared by you? Doesn’t compare to anything else. No bird needs a cage. But all birds need a roost. And this, is my roost. Till death do us part.” You offered. 

“If not, far beyond into eternity.” He insisted. 

“Deal, but first, please get dinner out of the fire before it burns.” You requested as the scent was starting to tell you that dinner was getting close to burning and bubbling over from it’s kettle. 

“Yup.” He practically bounded off of you as you were happy to see him quickly run over the fire naked before you whistled at his amazing sculpted body which only got him to laugh. As he was careful to pull the spit out from the fireplace before he got redressed as your moura cloak became a simple night gown with a robe and a pair of house slippers to walk over the table as he was happy to move the clay and your pottery tools aside to set the table to plate all the food you had made as you were happy to call this your new home, and Garth your mate, collar or no collar at all.

[scarletwritesshit]

Yosuke Hanamura x F!Reader ❀ Town of Blossoms ❀ June 13th, 2013

You looked out of your window when you woke up, sometime during late morning. Things remained unchanged, just as they were the day before. All of the flowers were still in full bloom, the heat was not letting up, and your thoughts still lingered.

The repeated awkward close encounters were not helping you wrangle these thoughts, either. They were chewing away at you, occupying your mind whenever you let your guard down. Despite this, you hadn’t quite been able to say precisely what was on your mind. It somehow felt more pitiful than genuine whenever an urge struck to say how you truly felt. Pity was not your true intention, yet an ever-present worry was that Yosuke may misinterpret what you were saying in the shock of the moment.

You had to figure out something, but what? You and Yosuke were entrapped in a purgatory that bordered an unbreakable friendship and a tightly bound romance. It was a matter of taking the right step forward at precisely the right time; unfortunately, your chances have been limited, if you had any at all. Keep putting it off, and your chances were sure to slip away from you.

If you weren’t careful, Yosuke himself could completely slip from your life altogether.

Ending up alone wouldn’t be an unexpected outcome. The signs of the others eventually leaving were there from the very start, even if you refused to acknowledge them. You still had a sneaking suspicion, but you denied it. Denied every single possible outcome.

Now, you knew that Souji was not going to hang around Inaba for very long. You had already come to terms with his inevitable departure, though, it was incredibly easy to forget about. Most of the time, your attention was directed towards his leadership of the Investigation Team, making it quite easy to forget that he would eventually be parting ways with your group as you know it.

The defining force that bought you all together would also be the one to foretell splitting up.

Chie…you’ve always wondered how long she was going to stick around in the first place. Her temper was particularly short, and she was way too eager to jump the gun. It came in handy during combat, though, as she would quite literally kick a shadow's ass when the opportunity would arise.

That kind of attitude generally does not work well around people, and before you knew it, she eventually stopped talking with the team altogether. Perhaps it was for the best.

Yukiko was far more lowkey than her feral counterpart. She was known for having an eccentric sense of humor, but she always managed to lighten the mood with her awfully contagious laugh. Though she didn’t have the attitude of a fighter like Chie did, she was arguably the only reason why you and the rest survived. Her healing magic was remarkably potent, and not even the fury of the heavens could overpower her healing.

As fun as she was to be around, responsibilities eventually became Yukiko’s top priority. The inn wasn’t going to run itself, and she was destined to take over one way or another. She would be insane to pass this opportunity up, as it was a free ride to easy money in a town whose businesses have become overshadowed by Junes as of late. It was understandable why she went her own path, but that didn’t make your parting any easier to bear.

Once Kanji had accepted himself and his talent, he quickly became a well-known and respected seamster throughout Inaba. He became sort of a celebrity among the younger kids, ironic considering how he was once labeled as a feared criminal. Maybe the children found it exciting rather than frightening to have their plush toys repaired by a former gang member. Who knows. Regardless, you knew that he was happy with his occupation as the young children could not stop talking about his handiwork in one way or another.

You didn’t expect Naoto to have much time for frivolous activities once the case was laid to rest. She didn't have much free time in the first place, between her assistance at the police department and solving the murder on the side with the Investigation Team. She still made efforts to keep in contact, as sparse as her updates may be, but working for the police force was a rather straining job for a young lady her age.

At least she didn't disappear like Rise. Maybe her rabid fans caught up to her, forcing her to transfer schools?  The updates on the news seem to be showing her doing well, but she hasn't spoken to anyone from the team since, at least to your knowledge.

And Teddie...well...he practically lived his life as June's mascot now. It's admirable how he somehow never got tired of the bustling crowds.

Sure, some people managed to stay in contact, but it still hurt knowing that they were all moving on with their lives independent of one another. As much as you didn’t want to admit it, you always dreaded the day that everyone would begin to drift apart.

Unfortunately, your fears were proven true, and eventually that once tight knit bond between the members of the Investigation Team that somehow stood through the wrath of foreign worlds and fearsome demons was eroded by the merciless force of time.

You feared the worst, that this would happen with you and Yosuke. Perhaps some form of unfortunate circumstance would arise, forcing the two of you to be split apart. There was always a lingering concern of him having to move away due to his parents' business, yet thankfully, they seemed here to stay to manage the branch. At the time, however, other concerns plagued your mind, including the very probable chance of death within the televisions. Everyone made it out alive, thankfully, but you cannot deny that the fear of losing the life of someone close to you kept you on edge.

Even with all worries considered, there was also the possibility that you two could just...naturally drift apart. Maybe you were doomed to fall out of love with him, or maybe he would lose interest in your company altogether…

So far, your bond has managed to stand the test of time and has held strong despite, well, everything. It didn’t seem like Yosuke had any intention of leaving your side any time soon.

Or at all, for that matter. He was far too attached to the Investigation Team when it was together, and it was physically paining to see his closest friends fade away right before his eyes. Sure, it stung you greatly as well, but it hurt even more to see your once insanely energetic best friend become absolutely devastated every time the realization sank in that he was slowly but surely on the path to becoming isolated once again.

You were going to make sure that didn't happen to him, one way or another. You made every effort to hold onto your friendship, through every up and down and misunderstanding.

It wasn’t out of pure desire to pursue a romantic relationship. It was done out of genuine care for Yosuke.

Your view on it as a whole was more like...a friendship was nice, and you wouldn’t be upset if you never got together. But god damn, did you love that man to death. And how very badly you wanted to express that to him, too.

In a way, you’ve been able to. Sort of. It was more of a platonic love, or at least you told yourself that. Such as platonically swearing to never leave his side for as long as you may live. Or spending practically every lunch period together, discussing random topics or merely sitting with each other and watching the traffic go by. Not to mention, platonically sharing a bed once or twice.

That last one was debatable, but you’ll just keep telling yourself that it is all for the sake of being a good friend.

After all, a healthy relationship does start with a strong friendship.

Though, you wondered. Were you perhaps...a bit too attached to him? Was wanting to spend so much time with Yosuke only damaging your bonds, leading to you two eventually growing sick of each other?

It was a worry that indeed burdened your mind quite frequently. As much as you would try to shoo these thoughts away, they always returned. Sometimes, it kept you from hanging out with him on days that you would normally ask to go somewhere.

He was always as excited to spend time with you as the last time you asked him. Even if it were multiple days in the row where you spent all of your free time together physically or on the phone, he was clearly overjoyed.

You couldn’t let your own self-doubts stand in the way of something more. Or anything at all.

But you weren’t getting anywhere silently sitting alone in your room. The spring season was coming to a close in a few days, marking not only the end of a season, but the end of an era. It was hard to believe, as the heat was already showing no mercy in the passion that it ignited. What was yet to come after the official start of summer can only be imagined, and it was approaching fast.

In the midst of your thoughts, you glanced down at your floor to notice a few stray blue petals laying in front of your door arranged in an inconsistent path.

How did those get here? you wondered. Perhaps you had mindlessly stepped on a few while walking through Junes, or some flowers made their way onto the sidewalks that you usually traverse. You picked one of the mangled petals up and blankly observed it.

Then, it suddenly hit you. You knew what you had to do.

You grabbed your phone and immediately began to text Yosuke, for the first time all day.

[the-marsh-harrier]

Who was Orion Black? (Pt 1) Orion Black x Female!Reader

A/N: I wanted to explore Sirius's childhood more in a non-traditional sense and give Orion and Walburga some interesting character development. This takes place after Sirius has broken out of Azkaban. Although this is a reader insert in parts, it is not the main focus and some chapters will have little or no mention of the reader. I have also altered the year Walburga was born to be 1940 instead of 1925 as it states in cannon (this is my fanfic and I'll do what I want with the characters that are in it). Similarly, in some of the chapters to come, I already know I will upset some people with the way I portray Sirius and Walburga's relationship - remember everyone is entitled to portray fictional characters as they want in their fanfics and if you disagree, please write your own. JKR's bigotry and opinions are not welcome here nor supported.

Masterlist (Part 1) Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 Part 7 Part 8 Part 9

Sirius thought he knew who his parents were, but did he really? After returning to 12 Grimmauld Place after his escape from Azkaban, he uncovers secrets that he never would’ve imagined.

Coming Back Home

After a year of living rough as a dog, Sirius decided to finally give in to common sense and return to 12 Grimmauld Place. After a particularly difficult winter, Sirius realised he wouldn’t be able to withstand another… similarly, he had Harry to think about now. What choice did he have but to return to his childhood home?

Summoning the house forward, he watched as numbers eleven and thirteen were forcefully ripped apart and the dreaded structure came into view. Oh, how he loathed his childhood home. It hadn’t felt like a home since his first year at Hogwarts – not since he realised how deranged his upbringing really was and that marrying as his family did was incredibly unconventional for modern standards.

Ascending the stairs to the large door, Sirius muttered the password and completed the necessary hand magic to enable the lock to unbind itself with a painful rusted sound. When the final mechanism clicked open, Sirus left as if his entire body filled with trepidation. The last time he touched this door, he closed it and left his old life behind. What would be waiting for him on the other side? For a brief moment, Sirius considered the reality of going back to the prison he just left. Was there really a significant difference between the two places? At least in Azkaban, he could see the dementors that tormented him as opposed to the hollow halls of 12 Grimmauld Place.

It took one calming breath for Sirius to push open the door. It made a similar screeching sound to the locks, was this some kind of omen? An eery indicator as to what memories lurked within the brick monster. The silence was deafening, he’d never known it so quiet – it was almost frightening to him… that was until the shrill voice of Walburga Black penetrated through the air. “Fowl blood traitor! Out with you! You are no son of mine! You never were!”

Sirius winced at the noise. It had been decades since he’d heard her, and he had hoped to never hear her again. “You’re supposed to be dead, you old bat! Haven’t you heard of the phrase ‘rest in peace'? More like ‘rest in vulgarity’ for you!” Sirius began his hunt for wherever the sound was committing from. “Come on! Don’t go quiet now! You’ve got nearly 20 years’ worth of insult to make up for!”

The house was vile, how had Kreacher been allowed to leave it like this? There was some part of Walburga still residing in the house. She had always been a proud woman, so when there were no lanterns lit, floors left unscrubbed and dust heeps piled in the corners; Sirius didn't know what to think. It was as if the place hadn't been cleaned in decades!

“I’ll have you strung up! I curse your father for bringing you into this world! He dared to blame me for you leaving! He had the audacity to take my Regulus away with him when he found out you left! I hope your mudbloods were worth it! How dare you sully the house Black with your presence? Mudwallower!”

That was all Sirius needed. There she was, hung above the fireplace in the back parlour. “Enough!” Sirius barked. “Any more and I’ll set you ablaze – do you hear me, b*tch?” Walburga looked taken aback by Sirius’ proclamation and looked like she was about to speak again. “This is my house! As the man of the house, you will address me as such!” Walburga was stunned and seemed slightly horrified by the sight of the man before her.

“By Merlin, boy. What happened to you? Look at the state of you!”

“Me?! Have you not seen the state of the house? Where is Kreacher? Does he not clean anymore?” Turning abruptly, Sirius began calling for the elf and searching the house. That was when he heard small whimpers coming from Orion’s study. He hadn’t stepped foot in his father’s study since he was fifteen. “Kreacher! Out here now!” But the elf never appeared. Sirius tried for a second time, but the elf didn’t appear; however, the whimpering grew louder. He had to go in. With his hand on the doorknob and a sharp exhale, he swung to door open. Nothing had changed. It was the only room in the house still immaculately clean. Sirius saw Kreacher perched under Orion’s piano stool crying into his master’s suit jacket. “Kreacher! I was calling you! Why did you not answer me?”

“Kreacher only lives to serve the noble house of Black - not the blood traitors that it removes.” Kreacher barked while still under the stool.

Sirius reached his hand down under the stool to pull the elf out but quickly yanked his hand back when small, sharp elven teeth pierced through his skin. "Come out now, you vile bottom dweller!" Sirius always had a nasty temper, especially when it came to Kreacher. Sirius could see one of the arms of the jacket poking out from under the stool so he seized the opportunity to pull the elf out by it. Instead, as soon as Kreacher felt tension on the sleeve, he let go and scurried from the room, balling and muttering about Sirius's treachery to the family.

It was now that Sirius had the opportunity to survey his father’s study for the first time in twenty years. The room was now bright red instead of the pale blue he remembered it being, the large ebony desk still had music scores scattered over it – some finished, some never to be completed. Sirius had always enjoyed his father’s music – unfortunately, he only wrote when completely intoxicated. The wine racks that were once bookshelves were still fully stocked with an abundance of red wine, whiskey, and port due to the replenishing charm Orion had placed on it. Turning to leave the room, Sirius notice something that made him stop in his tracks. There still sat the high-back, white armchair in the corner behind the door, a copy of the Wizard of Oz by L. Frank Braum rested upon it. Sirius used to sit there as a boy watching his father play the piano and write his music. The portrait of that very same corner was still hung on the fireplace in perfect view of whoever was playing the piano. Sirius always thought it odd that his father had that painted of all things – why the corner of his office? And why that chair? Why that book? A book that was written by a muggle.

[thechekhov]

So glad you decided to play Undertale! I think it would really suit you so I’m so happy you got into it! Could I have your thoughts about the game? I would LOVE to hear them. I’m ALL for long essays and rants, that’s my jam, but even just a small review from you would make me ecstatic!

Alright alright alright alright. 

I am ecstatic that someone asked because I have a lot to say AS ALWAYS. 

I’m gonna try to keep this readable, I swear. Will add pictures in between to keep things interesting. 

However, due to the length this will SURELY achieve, AND due to spoilers (and yes, laugh at me all you want, the game has been out for 5 years) I’ll put this under a cut. Read at your own (f)risk.

Metagaming - the game plays YOU

When I first started Undertale, I ‘knew’ these things:

there’s a stabby one with a knife, their name is chara

there’s a flower everyone hates

something something sans something something

and the last, and perhaps most important thing

you can spare your enemies to avoid killing them

The thing is. The THING IS. 

I did not realize how pervasive this strategy was. My thought at first was ‘okay, so I don’t have to kill EVERYONE.’

I had no idea that the reality was that I didn’t have to kill anyone.

I’m sure many others have already said this, but Undertale kind of changes the way you think about other games. It forces to you examine simply fighting your way through the RPG by introducing completely non-murder-y ways to resolve issues. This conversation-based combat style is not the first of its kind, I’m sure, but it’s also incredibly well done. It ties into the story, it ties into your decisions.

It ties into your decisions SO MUCH that it changes everything else in the outcome.

Undertale is a game well known for breaking the 4th wall. However, it does so in a strangely eerie, heart-wrenchingly real way. It teaches us that there are other solutions to conflicts - and it really... it really TEACHES us, you know?

Which is funny because to be honest, it took me a while to get the lesson.

(You may already be fully aware of this but yes, my first True Neutral Route was extremely organic. I legitimately had no idea that there was even more than one ending. I was just stumbling about er... killing. Out of habit.)

The beauty of this is that the game drives home that point even more effectively because I was fully unaware of my own bias. I had assumed that some enemies would require killing - DESPITE TORIEL SPECIFICALLY TELLING ME TO TALK TO THEM, and the entire Ruins tutorial being about Mercy. I killed the Dummy on accident (granted, it was due to me pressing the key too fast a few times) and didn’t think much of Toriel’s disapproval. I killed a few monsters because I saw my level was low and decided to automatically grind a little bit. 

By the time I got to Toriel, I was still not comfortable with the mechanic. I knew I could Spare her somehow - after all, she was a kind monster, and clearly an important character - but the Spare option didn’t yield promising results the first few times I chose it. I ran out of patience and decided that maybe... maybe it was like pokemon! 

Maybe I had to get her health down to a certain level before she would allow me to pass through.

Funny thing though.... you know what happens if you attack Toriel one too many times? Even if she has most of her health left? 

Yeah uh... it activates that one-hit-KO thing from No Mercy Route.

So of course, what happened? I hit her one too many times... and killed her! And of course, immediately panicked and reset. 

I got back to my previous save, Spared Toriel PROPERLY this time, and walked out of the ruins only to be confronted with my own reliance on the magical ‘redo’ button which was... apparently... not that magical.

Because it WASN’T a clean redo. Flowey apparently remembered. 

The idea that the game would KNOW about my previous attempts beyond the save file snapped me out of my casual Undertale playthrough. I realized that something was up - this game was not going to be like the others.

I think it was from this point on that I tried to be more careful, but again - I still hadn’t quite gotten the memo about not killing. I took down a few monsters around Snowdin. And when I got to Papyrus, I grew frustrated about not being able to beat him (I ended up losing several times and coming back to try again) and went off to grind SOME MORE because I figured that could raise my HP and increase my chances of holding off long enough to Spare him. 

(The incredible thing about this game is that actually, raising your level gives you only a slight advantage. You can be level 1 and carrying no items, and as long as you’re relatively proficient at dodging the bullet hell style projectiles you will have no issues.) 

Anyway, the point is that I realized I could spare the big monsters and did so readily - but I didn’t bother to spare many of the smaller ones. 

I figured it didn’t matter. 

And then I successfully evaded Undyne, gave her a cup of water, etc... and then went to her house to meet Papyrus, fully expecting her to befriend me anyway. 

And you know what happened?

“She said she won’t hang out with a murderer.“

I think that probably hit me the hardest at that point in the game. 

I had a bit ‘....oh’ moment at that point because I realized that the game would punish me for killing even the ‘not-important’ civilians of the Underground. It wasn’t about just sparing the ‘boss monsters’. My actions had consequences beyond just the ‘elite’ characters that we all tend to focus on.

Because yes, it made sense. It wasn’t about just Undyne - why WOULD she randomly be my friend after I killed tons of living beings?

From there on, I spared everyone, but didn’t reset. I decided to see how it would unravel.

The thing I want to talk about, which is a little difficult, is that...

It took me that long to learn that kindness was the answer. And that, in itself, ends up being a metaphor. 

It’s difficult to be kind if you have not been show how to be.

It’s difficult to change the way you behave (in a game or out of it) if all you know is using other methods.

It was hard enough to spare Toriel before I realized I had to just be very patient and trust that her attacks wouldn’t hit - though at first I thought she would just kill me! 

It was hard to avoid Papyrus’ attacks and I had to die several times before I successfully got through it. 

It was near impossible to fight Undyne because I legitimately had no idea Fleeing was an option. I struggled for ages at her stage, and I had to ask for help to understand what I could do.

And that’s actually honestly very true to life as well.

Being kind takes risk. Being kind takes effort. And sometimes, being kind means asking others HOW to be kind. 

When you choose to be kind, you risk being hurt, and you risk being trapped (Toriel). When you choose to be kind, you need to expand a lot more energy to succeed (Papyrus). When you choose to be kind, you need to sometimes reach out to others to show you how to properly do it (Undyne).

The rest of the playthrough probably went about as you expect. I completed the game, didn’t kill any Boss Monsters, fought to the end and... got that really unsatisfying Neutral Ending which felt strangely bittersweet. 

And of course, after I was done, I was prompted to go back and do a proper Pacifist Run. Which I did. I learned about the background of Determination, about Chara and Asriel... and about how everything came to be the way it was.

The thing that gets me the most about this game is how it serves as a direct parallel to how we use videogames. In fact, Undertale is a videogame... about videogames. 

Chara appears to be a direct metaphor for the people that use videogames to escape - to cope with whatever happened to them in The Overworld. Bad family life, or bad relationships or whatever we suffer - escapism through games is not, in itself, a new theme. 

Chara arrived in Undertale by dropping themself down a hole in the mountain, perhaps even seeking to end their life. They dropped into a world which offered them comfort and companionship, a new family and a new life - but in the end, their nature was destructive because their means to finding a solution inadvertently used other people as fodder. Asgore, Asriel - they used everyone else to complete their plans. It wasn’t about forming connections - it was about Completing the Quest. 

I wonder - did Chara even HAVE access to a MERCY option? 

Was their world one without the option of sparing someone? Did they only have the choice of acting - and was Mercy in the hands of whoever attacked them? I wonder how difficult it might have been for them. I wonder how that, in itself, shaped their perception of the world. 

I wonder if that’s why, during the No Mercy run, people recognize you as Chara? If they come back and attach themselves to your resonating DETERMINATION?

If this is true, was MERCY perhaps created later, brought into existence once Asriel himself made the choice to NOT fight, to turn back and flee, even after being attacked by humans in the Overworld? 

(It would be a nice parallel to Asgore DESTROYING the Mercy option when you enter the fight with him...)

...

In the end, I think Undertale is about many things, including video games. 

But it’s also hurting - and being hurt. 

It’s about how trauma can shape us, how we deal with feeling grief, and loss, and depression - and not being able to feel anything.

It’s about how we focus on goals and use DETERMINATION to keep going - even when whatever it is that’s driving us no longer has any SOUL. 

It’s about how our action have consequences, but they also carry the weight of a choice, and how powerful those choices are, and how powerless we feel when we aren’t given a choice - not to fight back, nor show mercy. 

I think that’s probably the reason this game resonated with so many people. It really brings something we love about videogames to the forefront - that ability to fight back, to have full and total control of our own lives...

And it also shows us how having that endless loop of repetitive grinding and fighting with zero consequences can lead to an incredible hollowness and make us numb to how we interact with real-life people. 

Anyway. 

Good game. 

[anonymousfiction211]

(reader is from asgard) After Loki faked his death, he transforms into the smallest creature and watches over the avengers tower only to see his childhood only friend and crush fall in depression. The others try to help but her anger is so much for her that she almost destroys everything with the powers she didn't knew she had. She admits to them how much she loved him and only then he realizes. I can't think of an ending. Also, sorry if this is too specific!

Word count: 2.026 words A/N: This story is set between Loki’s fake death in Thor 2 and the end of the movie. Hope you like it! Warning: Angst

Watching over you You were stirring in your sleep again. Something you did often lately. From behind your closed eyes tears started to flow over your cheeks, wetting the pillow underneath you. Right now, Loki wanted nothing more than to wake you and hold you close to him, hoping to comfort you. Tell you that everything is going to be okay. But he couldn’t do any of that. He was dead, or at least that is what everyone thinks. Plus, he had to change back to himself, and he couldn’t risk that either. It was safer to stay in this form. He wasn’t even supposed to be here, he should be in Asgard, planning the best moment to strike against Odin. But he couldn’t help himself, he had to see how you were doing. Even with dark circles under your eyes and in lazy/comfortable clothes, you still were beautiful to him. Something he would have told you, he wanted to tell you for so long, but every time you looked at him his tongue had failed him. You finally fell back in a peaceful slumber. Loki decided he would stay for one more night and then get to work. He flew to the ceiling above you, looked one more time at you sleeping form, before falling asleep himself.

Next morning

The sun was already shining brightly trough the windows. Loki had been watching you all morning. You hadn’t bothered setting an alarm clock, and when you woke up you grunted and turned around. There was a knock on the door.“(Y/N), time to get out of bed!” Natasha said. When you didn’t respond she entered the bedroom. It was her day today. You didn’t know it, you hadn’t even noticed a pattern. But some of the Avengers divided days among them to look after you. They were worried about the state you were in. Barely coming out of your room, not eating, not showering, and not wanting to talk about it. Not everyone agreed to it, however. Since not all people could understand that it was losing him what was causing you to act this way. To be honest, Loki never anticipated that you would be this much affected by his death. The two of you were friends since you were kids. You were one of the few people that somehow got him to open up. It didn’t take long to develop a crush on you, but he wasn’t the only one. A lot of guys in Asgard had, how could they not? You were beautiful, kind, patient, and the way you laughed sounded like Valhalla itself. Even tough you had a lot of friends, you always made time for him. You truly were the kindest person he had ever met.

Loki’s thoughts were interrupted when he heard you yell. “Just leave me alone!” He was shocked. In all the time that he’d known you, he never heard you yell. You never even raised your voice. Always staying calm, because no matter how angry you were ‘raising your voice was a sign for people that you weren’t in control of yourself anymore’ you once said to him. Natasha somehow got you to agree to get out of bed. The Widow is rather good in manipulation, Loki had to admit. “Once you’re ready, meet me in the training room. Oh, and don’t forget to open a window. You’re starting to attract flies.” Natasha said while she was leaving your room. You turned around and were staring at the fly on your ceiling for a few minutes. Loki thought you were about to cry again, but you held back your tears and got out of bed. If only you knew it was him on the ceiling.

Once you were gone, Loki in his fly-form, buzzed towards the training room too. Settling on the top of a punching bag, giving him an excellent view over the whole room. Your training with Natasha was hilarious to watch. He loved to watch you kick someone’s ass, and as a trained warrior Natasha didn’t stand much of a chance. Tough she held up against you longer than Loki would have guessed. “So, are you liking Earth, or ehm.. Midgard as you say it, so far?” Natasha asked you. “It’s fine” you replied rather uninterested in engaging in a conversation. “Thor hoped bringing you here would distract you a bit. Is it working?” Natasha went on. “Look, I get what you all are trying to do. And it’s not that I’m ungrateful, but I just want to be alone right now” you replied while making your way to the exit. “(Y/N), we can help you” Natasha tried one last time. When you turned back Loki saw different emotions on your face. It went quickly, but he noticed the sad expression with tears forming in your eyes. You blinked to vanish the tears, and your expression changed from sad to angry, and he swore that in between he saw regret. Why regret? Regret for what? he wondered. “Stop, just stop okay. You all hated him, so don’t for a second pretend that you even care” you spat back, angrily slamming the door on your way out.

The rest of the afternoon, you got your wish. Nobody bothered to see how you were doing or to get you out of bed again. This angered Loki much, but then again it was his fault you were feeling this way. While you were crying, Loki was lost in thought again. He should, he really should go back to Asgard after today. But how could he, knowing you were hurting. He couldn’t leave you like this, but he also couldn’t bare to watch it for much longer. If he knew how much his death would affect you, he would have thought of another plan to avoid going back to his cell. Even when he was locked up, you visited him often. You weren’t angry with him, just glad he was still alive. To his surprise you got guards to agree to let you into his cell. Playing games, reading, and laughing together. He thought he would never see you again after his failed attempt to rule Midgard. Even tough he never truly wanted to rule Midgard, but had to fulfil his assignment, and saw no way of escaping his faith. That was something he couldn’t tell people. He had almost told you, the first time you visited. He really wanted to, he couldn’t stand the thought of you thinking of him like everybody else did. But he was struggling with the words and then the guards came to tell the two of you, that the visiting time was over. Before you left his cell you gave him a kiss on his cheek. “When you’re ready to tell me, I’ll be there” you had whispered. That kiss on his cheek was the best moment of his life.  

In the end of the afternoon the Soldier had entered your room. He convinced you to get out of bed and took you to the living room. Loki, of course, flying right behind the two of you. Most of the team was already sitting in the living room. Thor was still on Asgard, and Loki noticed that Tony and Clint were also missing. You sat down, staring at the floor. “(Y/N), we really think you should get some professional help. We are getting worried about you” Steve began this little intervention. He was getting on and on about mental health, grief, and your sudden anger outbursts. If Loki were able in this form he would have rolled his eyes at the boring lecture. Before you got a chance to reply that door of the living room burst open. A very intoxicated Tony walked through them, going straight to the bar to pour himself another drink. I should have killed that men when I had the chance Loki thought.

Steve cleared his throat “Do you mind?” he said, clearly irritated by Tony’s behaviour. “Come on, is she still moping around because he’s dead” You looked up and gave Tony a murderous look. “Tony, stay out of this” Natasha warned him. Instead of taking her warning, Tony walked towards the group. “Come on, we all know the world is a better place without him” he continued. You stood up from your chair, balling your fists. “It’s not. Now, shut up” you yelled. “He was arrogant, egotistic, a murderer and just evil” Tony said while raising his voice. “Why would you even miss him? Why would anyone even care?” The anger was flaring through your eyes. At this point you were screaming. “He was not perfect, but who is?! He was kind, funny and incredibly smart. And given what he had to deal with in his life he is a better man than you ever could be!” You fell back in your chair, and noticed the tears falling from your face.

There was a long silence. Then Natasha broke it “You were in love with him” she said. Everyone looked at you. Loki began to grow very nervous and was holding his breath, waiting for you to react. “I am” you whispered. “Did he know?” she asked. “I- eh, no… Right before he and Thor would leave I wanted to tell him. But I got scared and decided to tell him afterwards.. and now..” you cried. “Maybe if I had, he would have stayed, or things would be different” you went on. Loki couldn’t believe what he was hearing. You were in love with HIM? Why? How long? And why hadn’t he noticed or told you that he felt the same way? He really was the stupidest man alive right now. Wait, what? You’re blaming yourself for his death?

“How could anyone ever love that monster?” Tony said. Before Loki could keep track of his thoughts you were on your feet. A sudden energy blast flew across the room, knocking Tony to the wall, he was laying unconsciousness on the ground. Everyone, including you and Loki, were in complete shock. Bruce went to Tony and confirmed that he was okay. “You have powers?” Steve asked. You were standing in pure shock, staring at your hands. Loki was also in shock, he recognized that kind of magic. It was the same as his. All this time he’d known you, he never sensed that you had magic. How could he never have known all these things about you? How could he have been so stupid? So blind? You ran towards your room and Loki flew as fast as he could. Maybe he should reveal himself, after all the only other known person for her magic was his mother. But she wasn’t alive anymore. He was, he could teach you everything he knows. Before he had a chance to decide the Soldier walked in your room.

“(Y/N), are you okay?” he asked. Stupid question, she thinks the person she loves is dead, she just discovered she has magic, a underappreciated trait from where she’s from and is currently crying Loki thought. After your stopped crying you finally spoke up. “How’s Tony doing?” you asked meekly. Loki couldn’t believe that you would even consider his wellbeing, but also loved you for it. “He will be fine, he had it coming. He is an ass when he is that drunk” Steve said. “Thor comes in next week, and we will figure something out. Maybe he knows someone who can teach you” he went on. “Do you guys want me to go back to Asgard?” you asked. Steve gave you a reassuring smile “You’re welcome for as long as you like” he said. You started to cry again, and he put his arms around you, holding you close. Loki felt jealousy stirring inside him. He wanted to be the one who could hold you in his arms. Not being able to watch anymore he flew away. He had work to do. He had a throne to conquer and think how he was going to make up for everything he is putting you through. He couldn’t wait to have you rule by his side. His queen.

[readyplayerhobi]

Jung Hoseok and the Magic to Happiness | 05

; Hufflepuff Teacher!Hoseok x Reader

; Genre: Fluff, angst, future smut

; Word Count: 3.5k

; Synopsis: An unexpected issue with your Ministry of Magic job leads to you taking the role of Transfiguration Professor at Hogwarts. It’s here that you meet your best friend’s younger brother for the first time in years, the Hufflepuff Head of House, Jung Hoseok. While you contend with seeing him once again, Hoseok tries to show you that he’s very much a man and no longer the gangly teenager you once knew.

; A/N: Not as much of an ‘interesting’ chapter as the last one, but hopefully you’ll enjoy it all the same! I know some of you have been hoping to see this character and what their thoughts are all about what’s going on. This chapter is more of one that’s just self-assessing!

Last Chapter ; Next Chapter

-

You don’t go to breakfast the next morning. Not because you’re trying to avoid Hoseok or anything, but because you didn’t fall asleep until the early hours of the morning and so slept through the morning meal. It didn’t take a genius to figure out what had kept your mind occupied instead of letting you drift off.

Thankfully, no one questions your absence. It might be because most of the castle is likely sleeping in today or is packing for the Hogwarts Express. You don’t have to be present when the students begin their journey back to London and you feel that’s probably a good thing at the moment. 

The awkwardness between Hoseok and you would be excruciating for anyone to be around, particularly yourself. So you’d burrowed into your duvet when the usual alarm went off and only woke up properly around noon. 

You’re still in bed though, the covers pulled up to your chin and helping you to feel snug and warm against the constant coolness of your stone room. Which means that you’re staring up at the ceiling of your bedroom intently, brows furrowed as you think over the night before once more.

As if you haven’t already replayed every moment in excruciating detail, latching onto the most ridiculous things. For instance, you couldn’t stop thinking of what Hoseok’s lips looked like up close or the heady scent of him that no longer inspired only safety and friendship in you. How hot his hands had felt against you.

It was embarrassing how often that thought morphed into you imagining the same scenario but minus any clothes. Would his hands be warmer? Would they be as gentle as they’d been on your back last night? Would his hands feel soft on your bare skin or would you be able to feel the subtle callouses formed from years of caring for magical animals?

Groaning out loud, you roll onto your side and bury your face into your pillow. How are you meant to face him when all you can think about is the taste of him on your lips? 

A delicate chiming causes you to peek at your bedside cabinet, eyes narrowing as the noise repeats itself. You don’t even need to check to see who it is; you know already. So you reach out and blindly grasp for the magic mirror, eventually feeling your fingertips pressing against the smooth, reflective surface.

Now your grimace is more because you know that you’ve just smeared fingerprints all over. But you don’t get a chance to clean it because as soon as you look at the hand-sized surface, it activates with a gentle tinkling. The silver mirror shimmers slightly and you’re left looking at the image of Jisoo’s pretty face, smiling at you.

For a moment, you forget that you’ve not even bothered to get out of bed yet. You’ve not been able to shower, and the crustiness of your eyes tells you that your makeup wasn’t removed either. You’d obviously been in more of a fugue state than you’d realised when you’d gotten back to your quarters.

Normally it wouldn’t bother you as Jisoo has seen you in much worse states. But this had been caused by Hoseok, her brother. Her little brother. Her little brother who was incredibly attractive, a great kisser and had looked at you like you’d hung the stars when you’d pulled away from him.

As you think that, you immediately remember his annoyance at any topic relating to age and feel like hitting your forehead. Chaeyoung was right; he did like you. Merlin, how stupid were you to miss all those obvious signs he’d been giving? The poor guy had been practically shouting it from the rooftop for weeks now.

“I’m so stupid!” You curse, spitting out a few more severe swear words after that to the surprise of Jisoo. It’s not helped when you notice how similar they look, maturity making the familial genes even more prominent between the two. Just your luck.

“Hi...are you okay?” She asks, her brow furrowing in concern and you sigh deeply. Ignoring her question for a few seconds, you take the time to push yourself up the bed and fluff up the pillows, letting them act as a backrest for you to prop yourself up. A quick spell cleans your face and mouth, studiously ignoring the fact that it’s considered lazy to use magic for these kinds of tasks.

Still, you feel a little more refreshed and not like one of those zombies from muggle television shows.

Taking a deep breath, alongside a few swallows of water from the glass you always keep by your bed, you pick up the mirror once more and smile at Jisoo. It’s pretty obvious that she doesn’t buy it though and you didn’t expect her to. She’s known you too long to let you get away with pretending, so you drop it quickly.

“I’m...okay, I promise. I just...I’m a little confused about something.” You’re not entirely sure that you want to admit the fact that you might fancy her little brother just yet. Jisoo is very open-minded and she’d always thought Hoseok’s obvious feelings when he was younger had been cute. But the unrequited emotions of your teenage brother are very different from the mutual attraction between your adult brother and your adult best friend.

“Oh? Did something happen last night? Hoseok was acting a little strange as well when I talked to him earlier.” The urge to sink under the covers is very strong when you hear that, but you use pure will to remain in place.

Of course, they’d already talked. 

Scanning Jisoo’s face closely, you try to use your own best friend's sixth sense to see if she already knows that you’d kissed him last night. But she’s either a master of acting or she has no idea because there’s only genuine concern in her expression.

You feel the need to talk though and you want to do that with your best friend, even if she is Hoseok’s sister. The feelings you have are confused and you just want to try to sort through them all. 

“I kissed Hoseok last night.” The words rush out in a breath, almost mumbling with how quiet they are. Still, Jisoo hears them perfectly thanks to the spell on the mirror. From the way her eyes widen in shock, you know that Hoseok hasn’t revealed that little tidbit to her. Part of you wonder if that’s to protect your privacy, but you don’t get a chance to consider it further.

“Merlin...so that’s why you’re both being odd! What happened? It was the Winter Solstice Ball, right?” Relaxing back, you nod and make an affirmative noise while chewing on your lips.

“Yeah, it was. It was all going fine, the students were having a good time and all that but then Hoseok finally arrived and-” Pausing, you frown before groaning out and running a hand across your face. “You don’t want to hear this! This is your brother.”

“Ignore that. As long as you don’t give me...descriptive details then it’s fine. This is one time that I have no interest in hearing about how well he kisses or what he’s like in bed, so keep that to yourself. Otherwise, keep talking.” Mortification runs through you at Jisoo’s mischievous smile and she laughs in delight.

“We didn’t do that! I swear.” Muttering, you reach for your glass and take another swig in an attempt to give yourself time to get yourself under control. Partially because you’re embarrassed about Jisoo thinking you’d slept with her brother so quickly but also because you’re feeling a little warm at the thought of sex with him.

A thought that you’d likely come back to at a later time but isn’t something to consider right now.

“I didn’t think you had. Firstly, you’ve never been the kind of person to shag someone on the first date. Or before the first date, I guess, as you’ve not even had a date. Secondly, neither is Hoseok. Don’t ask how I know, I’m surprised he didn’t blurt this news out this morning.” One of your eyes narrows in contemplation at that and you realise that you don’t want to ask.

The idea of Hoseok sleeping with someone else causes an unpleasant sensation to bubble in your stomach. Something else you don’t feel like analysing at the moment.

“Okay...well...firstly, I hate the word ‘shag’ and you know it. Secondly, I’m really confused right now. I mean, objectively I’ve known Hoseok is hot. Like, I’m not stupid. I have eyes and he’s well...yeah. But I think I’d always managed to have some kind of barrier between us, you know? Like...he was your little brother and he was just my friend here. But then last night he came into the hall and Merlin. It was like something switched in my mind, and I finally realised that he’s not just attractive, but he’s...he’s my kind of attractive.” You realise halfway through talking that you’re just telling Jisoo your thought process as you go through it.

She doesn’t respond though, just gives a considerate look with her lips slightly pursed before taking a sip of her drink. You don’t know what she’s drinking as it’s a mug, the image on the front just a generic cat. The fact it’s not moving gives away that it’s a muggle creation.

“And then we just kept talking, all night. Even when we had duties, we kept meeting back up and it felt so natural and normal. It’s like I’ve known him for all my life or something, our conversation is so easy and I don’t feel uncomfortable around him. You ever have that with someone?”

“Once or twice. It’s a good sign though. I know you’ve become pretty good friends over the last few months so maybe that’s why it’s all clicking now. Relationships that start from a solid friendship usually end up being some of the best. Maybe that’s why it’s all feeling a little more natural than normal. You’ve found someone that makes you feel comfortable and safe.” You wonder how many times you’d told Jisoo that her brother inspired those feelings within you since being here at Hogwarts.

As that runs through your mind, you suddenly become distracted with an entirely different thought.

“Hang on, did you suspect that I might like him? You’ve always been very accepting of my friendship with him and if I remember right, you’ve been the one encouraging me to spend time with him. Is that why you’re not surprised at this?” Jisoo’s cheeks blush a pretty pink, so like her brother that you can’t help but smile.

“I may have suspected something. I am your best friend, after all. And his sister. When you’re close to both sides, you notice things.” Her voice is teasing and you wonder if other people have been suspecting this as well. 

Suddenly, all the times your fellow professors had arranged for events and Hoseok had happened to just be attending as well began running through your mind. Was everyone scheming?!

You’d never considered yourself a suspicious person before but you certainly were now. Seokjin and Chaeyoung, in particular, were going to be at the end of a very serious set of questions whenever you next saw them.

“In all seriousness, I didn’t think that you might like him. I just thought you were enjoying having a good friend at Hogwarts as Hoseok is someone you already know, so you at least had a link with him. You finding him nice to look at was expected; I’m not stupid, I know he’s pretty. He’s my brother and I’m gorgeous,” There’s a slight smirk to her smile, and you roll your eyes at her ego, fully recognising that she’s trying to cheer you up. “But you never really gave the inclination that you wanted anything romantic with him, so I didn’t suspect too much with you.”

Humming, your nose wrinkles as you look away from the mirror and contemplate her words. She’s not wrong, mainly because you hadn’t considered that with him until last night. Hoseok had been firmly in the friend box in your mind. It’s only now that you realise he’d been subtly creeping into the romantic box without you noticing.

“That’s because I didn’t realise I wanted that. I feel like I missed something really obvious, and everyone around me knew. I’m pretty sure Chaeyoung and Seokjin knew; there’s no way that they wouldn’t try to interfere. They’re those kinds of people, you know?” Jisoo giggles lightly, running her hand through long, silky black hair.

“Sounds like my kinda folk. Seriously though, don’t stress over it. All you’re going to do by over analysing things is get yourself tied up into knots. I know you and you’ll just talk yourself out of anything that could potentially happen. There’s nothing wrong with going for what you want if it’s going to be good for you. As his big sister, I can safely say that Hoseok will be very good for you and to you. He’s a good guy and I don’t want you to throw away a chance at happiness.” 

You groan yet again, pulling one of your spare pillows to stuff your face into. Even if you’re feeling completely confused about what to think or do, you’re glad that you get to talk it through with Jisoo. She always knows just what to say and how to help you come to decisions that felt right.

Shifting, you sit up straight and look at Jisoo’s image in the mirror, feeling even more thankful that she’s willing to talk about this particular subject. At that thought you frown, knowing that she’s close with her brother.

“Did you suspect anything with Hoseok? You said that you got to notice things from both sides…” Trailing off, your eyes narrow as you watch the way she bites her lip in an almost coy way. It wouldn’t surprise you as she knows her brother far better than she knows you.

“Yes, I did with him. He fancied you so much when he was a teenager and I thought he’d just...grown out of it, you know? Neither of you saw each other for ages so I just assumed his hormones had finally settled down. But then he practically jumped at the chance to help you apply for the job and...well, he’s being very obvious lately. I swear, every conversation has to include you in some way and he gets this look on his face.” Jisoo says, brow creasing as she thinks back.

“What look? Does he get a look? What kind of look?” The questions pepper her but she doesn’t look annoyed by them. Instead, she just smiles before laughing lightly, taking another sip from her mug before taking her time nibbling on a milk chocolate covered digestive biscuit. It makes you scowl, realising you’d given yourself away once more.

“Yes, he gets a look. I don’t know how to describe it to you but it’s like...he gets this smile and I swear his eyes get all shiny. He’d be appalled to know I’d noticed this as he’s never come out and said anything but I know what he looks like when he likes something. Hoseok talks about you the same way he talks about anything else he loves.” The last word makes your eyes widen and you’re thankful Jisoo doesn’t comment on it.

She’s noticed though, you know that she has. 

“Oh, okay. Well...I haven’t noticed.” What a stupid thing to say, but you don’t have anything else.

“Obviously.” Jisoo gives you a droll look, causing you to glare at her. It’s probably not as effective as you’d like given the two of you are hundreds of miles away and only visible through a reflective surface. Still, it makes her laugh at least.

Not the reaction you wanted but you’ll take it.

The conversation between you both falls into a lull, the silence of your room almost deafening. It lets you start to think once more and you don’t think that’s a good idea. Jisoo is right in that you tend to talk yourself out of things that might have a big impact on your life.

You’d taken a whole month to finally apply for the job here at Hogwarts and even then, you’d had to have Jisoo convince you that you should accept the offer when they made it. A good choice now, but you had a constant fear that big change might have negative effects on you.

The possibility of beginning something romantic with Hoseok was perhaps the biggest change you could do and it had the potential for so many repercussions if it went wrong. He was your work colleague, your friend and your best friend’s brother. It wasn’t like if you tried dating him then you could just never see him again.

Hoseok was likely to always be a part of your life in some way.

But he was such a good person and he could be something positive in your life, too. You found him to be charming and kind, funny and thoughtful, intelligent and attractive. There were a lot of reasons against trying a relationship with him, but there were so many more reasons for it.

“Would it not bother you? If anything happened then you’d be stuck between us, and he’s your brother so you’d have to take his side.” Your words are quiet, almost reluctant. Jisoo doesn’t respond immediately though, giving you the benefit of thinking seriously about your question before shaking her head.

“I would be stuck between you both if it ended badly. But I don’t either of you are the kinds of people to make me choose something like that. More importantly, I have high hopes that kind of scenario won’t even happen. I have a good feeling about this, for both of you. You both have to decide what’s right for you but...I don’t have any issue with it. If anything, it’d be great. My best friend and my brother getting together? If you married him then you’d be my sister-in-law and your kids would be my nieces and nephews!” There’s palpable excitement in her voice now, matched by the way she almost vibrates as her imagination runs wild.

You, on the other hand, feel your cheeks going warm with embarrassment as you try to follow where her mind is running. It feels a little overwhelming if you’re being honest, but you just push those thoughts away.

The last thing you needed was to start fantasising about marriage when you’d only kissed the man once.

“Jisoo!” You scold.

“What? I don’t get to live this life of romance so let me have my dreams. I’d rather you marry him than anyone else. Your babies would be so cute.” She wriggles in her seat, hands clapping and you’re reminded once more how similar the siblings are.

“Jisoo,” Whining, you pout at her before rubbing at your temple. “Don’t marry us off before we’ve even talked after last night.”

“Fine, fine, spoilsport. Anyway, it’s your decision. Yours and his. But just know that I think you’d both be good together. Don’t push him away because you’re scared, he’s a good guy. Not saying that just because he’s my brother, either. If you decide no, then don’t be afraid of that either. I know him, he’ll be a gentleman and will accept it.” You know she’s right and it makes you feel a little better as you take a deep breath.

Nodding slowly, you give her a weak smile before wincing when your stomach gurgles almost painfully. A glance at the clock shows that it’s been a very, very long time since you last ate and your stomach is not happy with that. 

“I’ll think it through, I promise. I won’t make any rash decisions. For now, I need to just analyse my feelings and thoughts regarding him before thinking about anything else. But I’ll admit that I’m not opposed to the idea. As much as I’d like to continue this conversation though, I need to go get something to eat or my stomach might eat itself. I’ll talk to you again later, okay?” It’s only a few minutes later before you’re ending the spell on the mirror, watching as it turns into a reflective surface once more.

Placing it onto your bedside table carefully, you let yourself fall back onto the mound of pillows and simply stare up at the ceiling. 

Of all the decisions you’ve made in your life, this one seemed to be the most daunting. Yet just the thought of his bright smile makes your lips quirk automatically, causing you to let out a breathy laugh.

Yes, he’d be good for you.

[omgkatsudonplease]

I watched Mignonnes so you don't have to, if you were at all discomfited by the way Netflix's marketing decided to sexualise children in a film critiquing the sexualisation of children.

SPOILERS BELOW

The film is about how both hyperliberal and hyperconservative cultures force girls to grow up too fast. Amy is a first-gen immigrant from Senegal. Her family's culture tells girls they are marriageable once they get their first period, and in anticipation of that she is expected to know how to prepare an entire wedding feast and provide for her two younger brothers. 

Amy is disenchanted from this culture when she finds out her dad back in Senegal has married another woman. He will be bringing her to France with him and they will live in the same apartment. Amy's mom tries to put on a brave face and accept it, but it is obvious this move is humiliating for her. Amy's excitement for her dad turns into anger, compounded by her alienation and isolation at school.

The Mignonnes are a dance clique of 4 French girls who are clearly better adjusted to Western culture than Amy. Their ringleader lives in Amy's apartment complex and Amy is clearly enchanted with her because of the way she dances. She wants to be friends with the Mignonnes, but they bully and tease her. So in an attempt to win their approval, Amy learns the dance routine they are practicing for a local competition.

(The infamous "OMG NAKED BOOBIES ON A CHILD" shot is a blink and you'll miss it moment on a music video posted by a rival dance group. The incident is treated like a wardrobe malfunction, the girl quickly covers up, and the camera cuts away. Also, breasts aren't inherently sexual in France so a lot of the morality screaming is really American puritanism at play.)

The girls' antics are rebuffed by the older boys and men they interact with. One such moment is when the girls catfish an older teenager, but when one of them turns on the camera, the boy is visibly uncomfortable and tells them to fuck off. This leads to the girl who turned on the camera to be outcast from the group, which is Amy's avenue into the group. To secure her place, she offers to teach the other girls how to twerk. 

This is where the film's dances become more notably uncomfortable. I can tell why people are upset about the sexualisation of children based on only these scenes from the film, but within the context of the film they are treated as a dangerous addiction that is destroying Amy's dignity. She acts more and more "mature" in an attempt to gain the approval of the Mignonnes. In these subsequent dance scenes the camera mimics the angles from a music video, but the child subjects make the overall scene grotesque and uncomfortable.

There is a scene where Amy is pantsed in a fight. This is when she is desperately trying to look "more mature", so the revelation that she still wears "kids' granny panties" is humiliating for her. Once again, the shot is really quick, in the context of a fight, and the Mignonnes come to her rescue quickly. This moment is the tipping point where Amy's outside activity seeps back into her home. She steals her mom's wallet so she and the Mignonnes can go on a shopping spree for more ~mature~ underwear. 

Since Amy is in a lower-income first-gen immigrant family, she doesn't have her own smartphone. The girls at her school do, though, so she steals her cousin's smartphone. This is also part of her attempts to become accepted by her peers -- that phone is her first foray into hypersexualised Western online culture and part of her first major interaction with the Mignonnes. It is also part of the worst thing she does: post an inappropriate photo of herself online.

The film clearly shows her reasoning for doing so: she is deep in social media at this point and needs more and more provocative actions to score the same high. The Mignonnes were humiliated by the pantsing incident and need something to show they're "not kids" (even though they are). Amy doesn't know it's inappropriate to post that kind of photo online. She does it anyway. And she is punished by both her home culture and Western culture for doing it.

There is a scene here where her mother and auntie sprinkle her with water, presumably to purify her from her sins. Amy becomes overwhelmed with some sort of emotion and starts half-twerking in front of them. The camera circles her entire body when she does so. It really makes her look possessed, which is why her mother calls in an imam (I think?) to check her for demons. The man tells her mother there are none, and reminds her that she is free to divorce her husband if she cannot bear the stress and humiliation of this impending wedding. "God does not burden women with more than they can bear," he says, making a clear distinction between Islam as a religion, and Islam as a tool used by a patriarchal culture to force the submission of women. 

Amy is also rejected from the Mignonnes (and they welcome the other girl back in). They tell her she acted like a slut and ruined their reputation, completely uncaring that they were responsible for her actions up to this point. The line is clearly: you can twerk and lick your finger and bite your lips and do all the other stuff that the women in music videos do, but you cannot post nudes. Amy doesn't know that's the line. She tries to justify her actions and is only pushed away by the other girls. 

(I should also mention, the actual action of her taking the pictures does not show you anything. The camera keeps itself above the belt outside of dance scenes. You know what she's doing based on the glow of the phone screen and the tops of her knees. You never see the photo itself, either. That, to me, tells me more about the film's treatment of these kids more than the dance scenes.) 

So with this further isolation from both of her cultures, Amy grows increasingly desperate. On the day of her dad's arrival and wedding, she tries to push her way back into the Mignonnes for their final dance. This feels like an act of self-harm at this point, but Amy needs that high of having friends and getting approval (since she's not getting any of it at home). The dance is horrifically provocative, and many people in the audience are uncomfortable. The fact that Netflix decided to focus on this scene in their marketing campaign subverts the entire point of the film, since anyone who only watches the trailer would not know Amy was self-harming by dancing like this at this point. 

Amy receives an awakening in the middle of the dance. She realises this is also not what she wants to do -- she doesn't want to be viewed as a prospective wife OR a prospective whore. So she runs off, rejecting the Mignonnes. 

(There is a scene earlier on when Amy gets her first period and the auntie tells her that she herself had been engaged at Amy's age, and after she got her first period she had only a couple more years before she was properly married. Also the second wife is heavily implied to be only a couple years older than Amy. This is not framed in the context of Islam but rather in the context of Amy's family's culture.) 

In the end, however, Amy manages to find a middle ground between her two cultures, and rejects the expectation from both for girls to become women before they're ready to. She rejects both the hyperfeminine dress sent from Senegal for her dad's wedding as well as the risque dance outfit, and dresses like a kid to go jump rope with other kids in the neighborhood. When she finally gets to act like a kid, she is happy. 

I could honestly say more about the film's use of that dress from Senegal as a magical realism plot point, the relationship between Amy and her mother, and how the camera is a stand-in for Amy's mental processes and perceptions. But given the current puritan fervour on the Internet about how the film is "paedobait" I felt obliged to write up the film so people can be aware of how the subject is actually handled in the film itself and make their own judgement as to whether or not to watch it. I personally thought it was more evocative of the immigrant experience; I remember making many of Amy's mistakes when I was growing up (but thankfully mostly not offline, lmao). 

So: are the dance scenes disturbing? Yes. That's the point. I would be more concerned if you were NOT disturbed by the dances. Is the film sexualising the kids? I personally think this is an example of depiction =/= endorsement. Would creeps use the dance scenes for their own ends? Yes, but creeps also used to use innocent YouTube videos of kids doing gymnastics and ballet or playing at the beach, which is why all YouTube videos for kids now have comments disabled. So dogpiling a woman of colour for talking about her own experience through film, accusing her of being a paedophile, and sending her death threats is incredibly excessive. 

Also, the original accusation of this film being paedobait originated from 4ch*n, a known internet cesspool of racist paedophiles, so really. Are we really going to take 4ch*n at their word. Do your research, everyone.

[kryptsune]

World Building Wednesday! ~Felldritch

🌼I got a request to do a WBW for Felldritch and since there have been updates to the overall world and lore I wanted to make sure this was all in a nice little package! If you have questions and want to learn more let me know the ask box is always open!  So let's get started! Oh and here is a link to the fic! FELLDRITCH

Felldritch

Classification: HorrorFELL

Cult  Alternate “Nicknames”:

Red: Saw Boss: Corvus

Gaster: Sephtis

Asriel: Saber Toriel: Ameria

Asgore: Kirnon

Undyne: Ryx Alphys: Vesh Muffet: Carmilla Grillby: Noire MTT: Faust

Doggo: Croix

Riverperson: Bastet (Tet)

Main Plot Synop: Felldritch takes place after a pacifist run by Frisk. The story briefly goes as follows. Frisk ends up in the Underworld (Underground) and befriends the monsters and wants to set them free. It is basically a way watered down version of WTU in essence. Once reaching the end of her journey the monsters refuse to let her be that final soul. They would rather wait and figure out something else but with her Determination she promises to return to them and set them free. At this point in time she is around 18-19. Asriel sacrifices himself to that end to see her leave through the barrier only for the humans to capture the poor girl after she leaves. They conclude that she is not mentally stable due to her insistence that monsters are real and throw her into an asylum/sanitarium to be “treated”. Nearly 5+ years later and she manages to escape finding herself once again in the Underworld only it is far different from what she remembers. At this point, she is questioning whether anything is real or not. After being “treated” for so long she doesn’t quite know which reality is the true one. As Red (aka Saw) points out:

The Brothers: 

Red: The younger brother of the two. His attachment to Frisk stems into more of a relationship though he blames himself for loosing her all those years ago. This psychological state causes him to throw himself into the problem that is befalling their world. At first nothing seems to combat this intrusive forest and horrifying beasts but he learns to utilize his magic in a different way. Prior to this he is what one would think of a a Red type but after meeting Frisk he promises to not only change his heart but also the hearts of others. Instead of destructive magical ability he follows in his brothers footsteps and takes up healing practice. 

In the world he is known as the merchant, the one that tends to give out healing items in exchange for coin but the bulk of his business relies on talismans or charms to ward off the evil plaguing their home. As far as they all know these magically infused charms are powerful and have incredible protective capabilities. He runs a wagon that travels around the entire Underworld.

In the current timeline he more sympathetic and empathetic. The concept of Kill or be Killed is no longer a factor. This is mainly about survival and for the most part the other monsters are aware that working together is their best option though their heightened paranoia (validly founded btw) makes it difficult sometimes. His personality is lighthearted on the surface, making jokes, and being a good guy. In a way he reminds me of Jester who tries not to dwell on what is going on but is fully aware of the situation. Red wears a blindfold in public to keep up appearances but he has no vision or eye light problems.

Boss: After Frisk’s departure from the Underworld, Boss, takes her words to heart. Unlike the majority of Fell Pap characterization he is very soft. When he feels his brother no longer needs his guidance he begins to feel purposeless until he learns that like his brother he has the magical ability for healing. As Red is the charm merchant of the two, Boss is the apothecary. His design harkens to plague doctors back in the 17th century. He grows all his own herbs and spices but he is particularly fond of tea. He also wears a blindfold just like Red but unlike Red he does in fact have damage to his left eye socket where the teal color of his eye lights no longer inhabits. 

The two combined help their fellow monsters as much as they can but in a world of uncertainty how are you supposed to know who to trust? 

Frisk’s Mental Demons: The psychological toll on Frisk is great as she has been told constantly that she made up her time in the Underworld in order to shut herself away into a fantasy world. A world where she had a family… where she is loved and wanted. This happens frequently as the “Doctors” continuously try to refute her experiences or sensations medically.  Every time she goes to sleep in the Underworld she ends up back at the Asylum tied down kicking and screaming. 

She only wakes up again when she is sedated. Rinse and repeat. The question is… is it real? Or rather which is real. The doctors go on to state that her dark state of mind twisted her original concept behind her “family” making them this eldritch styled horror. He also goes onto explain that the reason she is so drawn and close to Red is that it is her “flirting with death”. That she is accepting that outcome because if she continues to resist treatment she will die and the moment she trusts him in her “fantasy” that will be the end. These kinds of situations happen a lot.

There are also instances when the lines between real and fiction are blurred as Frisk's behavior consists apparently of defensive aggression, auditory, visual, and olfactory hallucination, acute paranoia, anxiety, and PTSD. One such example of this is her apparent psychiatrist, Dr. Cyrus Reycroft, who happens to have an uncanny resemblance to her skeletal friend if he was human. 

The Beasts: Felldritch plays off Eldritch horror aka the fear of the unknown. As Frisk reunites with Red she is subjected to a rather concerning conversation in which he explains the situation they are in. He mentions having crossed into an upside down broken and colorless world which drew both himself and his older brother into. It is implied that the two stepped into a dimensional space that was able to then afflict those within their own dimension. Over time the inhabitants begin to go missing and great otherworldly hellish beasts begin appearing. The inhabitants come to the conclusion that these creatures can not afflict you with their corruption if you can not see, hear, or speak in their presence. This mindset has some rather gruesome implications as inhabitants become irrationally desperate mutilating themselves to adhere to the new "See no evil, Speak no evil, Hear no evil”.

The Occult World: The cult as I keep referring to it as is a group of powerful monsters. After the deposition of the King the other monsters begin to become influenced by outside sources. They begin to believe that any fallen humans are the angels of death and because of this they will kill humans on sight, of course, they want to live in denial of their horrible deeds because monster souls are supposed to be made up of love and kindness. Unlike the cult that wishes to break the barrier, the rest want to stay hidden from the beasts above believing that the humans are to blame for all that has happened.

The senses play a huge roll in this idea as the beasts are rumored to be able to use souls like puppets, as in spys, if they are corrupted. It essentially becomes like a hive mind with the main entity being able to see, hear, and speak through those it comes in contact with. It’s no secret that Red is in fact infected by this entity in some form as this is a quote from the fic:

A set of antlers snagged the velvety cape as he worked the metalwork to release its hold on the material around his throat.

Bony fingers tugged on the bunched up fabric and pulled it back, revealing a charcoal grey sweater underneath. It was soft to the touch but just hidden beneath the wool she caught a glimpse of off white colored bone. There were bits and pieces that had been chipped off, knicks, and cuts. Even before they had met Red had some scars especially around his collarbone but that was not what caused her to gasp. His hood remained over his head as if using it to shield his expression from her view, “See?” He flinched when her fingers traced some of the scars.

She didn’t want to appear like she was fearful of what she was witnessing but her fingers quivered, pulling them back toward herself. A soft whimper of a voice left her, “R...Red…” There intertwined with the magically composed vertebrae of his spine were branches. The same deep blackish red wood that plagued this entire forest. It wove itself through the bone engulfing portions of his ribs, twisting it into chilling patterns. If it was allowed to continue its infestation it would crack his ribcage open in a bloodless gaping fissure. She could just make out that gentle white and crimson glow shrouded by the wood. Was that his soul? There was no other explanation.

It looked like the branches were trying to worm their way toward that glowing heart, pierce it, and absorb it into its oily black, almost pulsating bark. That was only one singular aspect of horror that she was now subjected to. Her eyes followed the trail that crept through the bone following the knots and twists that crept up and underneath where his skull attached to his spine.

The grip that he kept on her hand only tightened while the other shifted to pull the hood off his skull. Her eyes widened, reddish-brown irises wavering within a sea of white. A hand rose to land on her mouth, now agape in a silent gasp. She could see the same strange bark that comprised his antlers exited straight out of his skull. There were fractures that radiated from above the temporal portion of his cranium in concentric circles. The same kind of patterning one would see from blunt force trauma. Only this had pushed out the bone externally rather than internally. His sockets no longer contained those ever dulling carmine eye lights as her own eyes traced the hairline cracks along his head. She could not imagine the kind of pain a transformation like that would have caused him. There were places where the bone had tried to heal and suture itself back together, forming around the bark.

Angel of Salvation (a.k.a. The Eldritch Horror)- What the cult has been working toward is summoning their “savior” with the help of the human souls they are bound to. It gives them extra abilities and power. Each within the ranks is bound to a human soul. Their leader ??? wants to use this power to summon an “angel.” It turns out that is actually an unholy amalgamated eldritch beast/god out for blood instead. Humanity will perish and the monsters will take control of the surface once more. That is the reality. (The cult including Red is told otherwise).

[omgrachwrites]

Our Souls Crave This Magic- Chapter One

Pairing: Prince Caspian x Reader

Summary: All you want is a quiet year of university as you and your best friend, Edmund move to New York City. Though, that all changes when you meet the spoiled trust fund brat, Caspian. College au.

Warnings: fluff, slow burn romance, swearing

Words: 2619

Disclaimer: Everyone in this fic is 18+ and this gif doesn’t belong to me!

A/N: Here we are, first part of my college au! It was a little weird to be writing a Narnia college au, I’d never thought of writing one before! Hope you guys enjoy this and please let me know what you think and let me know if you would like to be tagged! I love you all! xxx

next part   masterlist

Chapter One - Once Upon a Time in New York City

The air in New York was hot and muggy, even with the roof of your rental car being down there wasn’t much of a breeze and you were beginning to feel irritable and the smog in the air was heavy. The traffic over here was slow, somehow even slower than it was in London but you knew that it was a small price to pay for your freedom.

When your best friend, Edmund received a chance to study overseas in New York for his final year of college he took the chance straight away and he had pretty much begged you to go with him. You had never known Edmund to beg for anything so you knew that this was serious. You didn’t want to lose your best friend so you agreed to go with him, as did his little sister, Lucy but you didn’t mind, it was her first year at college.

From the back seat you could hear Lucy gasping in awe as she glanced up at the impossibly tall skyscrapers that were beginning to make you feel a little sick, “I love this city already, thanks for letting me come with you guys!”

Ed grimaced as he leaned forwards to turn your rock music down which earned him a scathing glare, “it’s not like we had much of a choice,” he muttered.

You rolled your eyes at Ed before smiling at Lucy in the mirror, “ignore him, Lu. I’m glad that you’re here.”

“Thanks Y/N,” she grinned at you before pulling a tongue at her brother, “I can’t wait to see the loft,” she sighed happily.

Neither of you wanted to stay in some shitty dorm room on campus so ever since you were accepted into NYU, you had begun saving money from your bar job and your student loan. Between the three of you the most you could afford was a loft apartment in Brooklyn. You spotted the moving van a couple of doors down from the loft and got ready to turn into a parking space on the busy street.

As you were reversing into the space, a yellow taxi blared its horn at you as it zoomed past you, “yeah, very nice, arsehole!” you yelled out of the window, knowing the driver couldn’t hear you but it made you feel better all the same.

Edmund rolled his eyes as he fixed you with an unamused look as he ran his fingers through his hair, “I’m beginning to regret asking you to come with me.”

You laughed, winking at him as you got out of the car, “you know that you love me.”

Ed laughed before he bit his lip, looking at you nervously, “you should call your mum, and tell her that you made it here in one piece. I know that you’ve been putting it off Y/N,” he sighed and pulled you into a one armed hug, “you can catch up with us in a bit.”

You sighed as you watched Ed and Lucy walk towards the moving van, he was right – most of the time he was right – you had been putting it off, and for good reason. You dialled your mum’s number as you lit up a cigarette and took a long drag of it. Just as you suspected, you were met with your mum’s voicemail. She was probably out, spending time with her new family, she was almost too happy when you told her that you were moving to New York.

“Hey mum, I’m just calling to let you know that I made it to New York, safe and sound. I didn’t want to call but Ed thought that I should, anyway call me back if you get this. Or don’t, it really doesn’t matter to me either way.”

The lie tasted bitter in your mouth but you didn’t want to dwell on it any longer so you quickly hung up the phone. You rubbed your temples as you took another drag off your cigarette, blowing out a large billow of smoke.

“Do you mind?” you heard a cough with the sound of a smooth honeyed accent. Your gaze started at his feet and you quirked an eyebrow when you saw that he was wearing expensive leather shoes. You travelled up his body with your eyes and they finally came to land on his face.

He had deep brown eyes that were almost black and he was very handsome with thick dark hair and clean stubble along his jaw, he looked just like the brooding hero in all those romance novels. You didn’t want to judge but he looked exactly like a trust fund baby, someone who got whatever they wanted on a silver platter. He coughed again as you blew out more smoke and he ran a hand through his hair, narrowing those gorgeous eyes at you.

“You can clearly see that I’m smoking here, it’s your fault for getting in my way, pretty boy,” you didn’t miss the scowl he shot you as you crushed the stub of your cigarette beneath your shoe as you turned away. You couldn’t let a stranger piss you off, no matter how good looking he was.

As you walked into the loft you were immediately taken aback by how spacious and beautiful it was, it seemed like good value for your money which was extremely rare in a big city. You decided that you were going to take the smallest room – you wanted Ed and Lucy to have the most luxurious rooms – but it seemed that you definitely got the room with the best view. New York was such a beautiful city and you were so glad that you got to live here.

As you were coming out of the room that you had claimed as your own, you noticed that the handsome stranger was in your apartment. Suspicion ran through your body as you narrowed your eyes at him, “what the fuck are you doing here?”

He opened his mouth to reply but before he could, Edmund came striding into the apartment, carrying a cardboard box, “Y/N, this is Caspian; he’s offered to help us move in.”

“How nice,” you smiled tightly, Caspian was a trust fund name, you were sure of that.

Caspian raised an eyebrow and he smirked at you, and you ignored the way that his deep brown eyes sparkled. You just wanted a quiet final year of college; you wouldn’t let a handsome young man ruin it. You had worked too hard to be here.

When Caspian walked out of the loft with Ed, Lucy smirked at you, “Caspian’s cute isn’t he?”

You laughed as you unpacked the kitchen boxes, “suppose so, for a trust fund baby.”

“What makes you think that’s he’s got a trust fund?” Lucy asked as she leaned against the kitchen counter.

“Come on Lu, his shoes cost more than our rent, it’s obvious that he’s rolling in money, and with a name like Caspian,” you let out a low whistle, “the evidence speaks for itself.”

Finally, you were all moved in – and Caspian had thankfully left, turning down Edmund’s offer to stay for a drink – it was early evening and your breath was stolen away by how pretty the sky looked. It was all pink and orange hues, and you were almost certain that you’d enjoy living here. New York seemed like such a romantic city – despite the smog – every story that was worth reading began in New York City.

Edmund grinned at you and flung an arm around your shoulders, “are you hungry? We were thinking about ordering pizza.”

You shook your head, although the notion of pizza sounded amazing, “no can do I’m afraid, I gonna go out and actually look for a job. How else are we going to be able to pay the rent?” you smiled.

Lucy raised her eyebrow at you, “Y/N, we’ve literally been here for a few hours and already you’re thinking about getting a job?”

You nodded at her as you kissed Edmund’s cheek, “you guys know how much I worry,” you laughed as you shrugged on your leather jacket, “I’ll see you guys later, and make sure to save some pizza for me.”

“I can’t make any promises,” Ed called after you, making you laugh.

You forgot just how hard it was to get a bartending job as you walked down the streets of New York, it had grown cool now and you wrapped your jacket tighter around your body. Finally, you came up outside a bar called; Aslan’s which had a golden lion on a field of red on the sign. Even from the outside it looked like a dive bar but you supposed that beggars couldn’t be choosers.

The bar stank of stale beer and cigarette smoke, and the floor was incredibly sticky. There was a pool table in the middle of the room and a juke box in one corner, playing loud music. The bar was a complete dive to be sure but you could also tell that it held a lot of character. You smiled at the sandy haired bartender; “I was wondering whether I could speak to the manager?” the bartender nodded and smiled at you as he walked into the back.

A couple of moments later, the bartender returned with an older man, the older man grinned at you as he offered you his hand, his eyes twinkling kindly, “I’m Aslan, the owner,” his voice had an Irish twang to it and you offered him a small smile. You were kind of surprised that he was the owner, he looked like a complete dad, and you had expected someone with tattoos and piercings, not a man in a cable jumper with his hand wrapped around a Spiderman mug.

“I’m Y/N; I was wondering whether I could give you my resume?”

“Certainly,” he smiled and you handed it over and his eyes scanned it before he glanced at you with a raised eyebrow, “are you a university student?” he smiled when you nodded, “have you done bar work before?”

“Yes sir,” you nodded, “I worked in a busy bar in the centre of London for a couple of years,” his eyes widened slightly and you could tell that he was impressed.

“Come in for a trial shift on Saturday so I can see what you’re made of.”

You breathed out a sigh of relief, this was better than you could have hoped for, “I’d be glad to, thank you so much, Aslan.”

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

Caspian knew that pre law would be difficult but he just had no idea, after only a couple of days he was exhausted. It seemed strange but he was happy, no matter how exhausted he was. He had a deal with his parents where they agreed that he could go to a school of his choice where nobody knew him. He didn’t want people to treat him any differently.

Edmund – one of his first friends from class – grinned as he clapped Caspian on the shoulder as they made their way across campus, “that Professors kind of a hard arse, huh?” he chuckled, mirth lighting up his freckled face.

Caspian smiled in response as he ran a hand through his hair, “I think that’s the lawyer that we should all strive to be.”

Ed chuckled as he looked across the quad and pointed, “oh, hey there’s Y/N. You remember her?”

Caspian glanced up and saw the pretty girl in a Sex Pistols shirt and ripped jeans with red converse. She carried an easel over her shoulder, she didn’t strike Caspian as the artistic type, “how could I forget?”

Edmund smiled as he pulled his friend into a hug, “hey, Y/N, you remember, Caspian?”

Y/N smirked as she tucked a strand of hair behind her ear and she looked Caspian up and down in a way that made him feel small. He flushed and looked away from her burning gaze, “of course I remember, Cas.”

“Caspian,” he spoke through gritted teeth as he felt a wave of annoyance wash over him as she smirked.

If Ed sensed the tension he didn’t say anything, instead he flung an arm over her shoulders, “are you coming to the party tonight?”

Y/N grimaced as she shook her head as she placed a cigarette between her red painted lips, “Aslan needs me to work a shift tonight, clearly I got through the trial period successfully,” she laughed.

Caspian raised his eyebrow at her in surprise, “you work at Aslan’s?” he chuckled, “isn’t it a shit hole?” he had never gone in and he had no intention of doing so.

Y/N glared at him, if looks could kill, he’d already be six feet under, “it’s got character, I wouldn’t expect someone,” she trailed off as she looked him up and down, a scowl on her face, “like you to understand.”

Her insinuation made his blood boil, he was starting to like her less and less by the second, “what the hell is that supposed to mean?”

Y/N opened her mouth to answer, most definitely with a scathing retort on her lips but Ed cut her to the chase, “I’m gonna go get a pretzel, does anyone want one?” he walked off before either of them could reply.

The tension was unbearable in the hot and heavy air, Caspian scowled at Y/N while she looked up at him as she took another drag of her cigarette, she looked completely unbothered. In fact, Caspian thought he saw amusement glitter in her eyes. Caspian coughed as the billow of smoke she blew out went right in his face. Normally he wouldn’t have cared but there was just something about Y/N that made him want to piss her off.

“Do you really have to do that here?” he grimaced.

Y/N smirked around the end of her cigarette but Caspian noticed that she turned to the side slightly so the smoke went in the opposite direction and he opened his mouth to thank her, stopping short when she replied, “last time I checked, this was a free country, Cas.”

Caspian clenched his jaw so tightly that he was afraid that he’d break his teeth but he didn’t bother correcting Y/N on his name. He wanted to ask her why she had it out for him, it had seemed that way ever since they met. Instead, what came out of her mouth was a stupid observation.

“I didn’t peg you for the artistic type,” he swallowed as she paused and looked up at him, the glimmer of a scowl on her face, “I had you down for a Psychology major or something, maybe that would explain why you’re manipulative,” his words were harsh but she didn’t even flinch as she crushed the stub of her cigarette beneath her shoe.

She looked away from him, wrapping her arms around herself, even though the day was warm. A flicker of emotion that he hadn’t seen before flickered across her face, “I used to paint with my dad, from a young age,” she looked back at him, that smirk was back on her face, “pre law, huh? That’s exactly the sort of major I’d expect from a trust fund baby.”

He let out a laugh and noticed that Ed was finally on his way back, pretzel in hand, “what makes you think that I’m a trust fund baby?” he asked, biting his lip.

Y/N raised an eyebrow, “oh sweetheart, with expensive clothes like that,” she gestured down at his outfit, making him scowl, “and such a pretty face, how could you not be?” she turned around to take a bit out of Edmund’s pretzel, laughing when Ed shouted out in dismay.

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

@smiithys​ @elayneblack​ @amelie-black​ @generalblizzarddreamer​ @blackbirddaredevil23​ @whiskeywinter89​

[dropssofjupitter]

The American

Pairings: Fred Weasley x Slytherin!Reader [Platonic] , George Weasley x Slytherin!Reader [Semi-slowburn]

Summary: A new transfer student is welcomed to Hogwarts during the politically tense times that have befallen the wizarding kingdom. And despite their better judgement and the new (and frankly horrifying) DADA teacher, the twins can’t seem to get her out of their mind

Word Count: 2.5 k 

Warnings: Umbridge (I feel like that’s enough said for that one), anxiety mentions, swearing (light. maybe one f-bomb), Ron being a lil prejudiced against Slytherins

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A/N: I took a small liberty with the last name just to help the story flow better, so I’m sorry if that’s upsetting. I am also apologizing ahead of time if I wrote the twins ooc, it’s my first time writing a fic for them! [Not beta read, any mistakes are mine and mine alone]

You took a breath, hands smoothing down the sides of your skirt, twisting nervously in the folds. You could do this. Nerves ran throughout your body, making it feel like it was humming with energy as you shifted on your feet. You could do this. The professor next you, McGonagall if you remembered correctly, placed a comforting hand on your shoulder. You forced a small smile, turning your face back to the set of great wooden doors in front of you. You could barely hear a thing that was being said, you just knew that you would be introduced after the new teacher and then sorted into your house.

“In other news,” a voice raised from behind the doors and you looked up sharply. “We have a transfer student joining us this term. We have decided that it would be best for everyone if her sorting ceremony were as public as the first years, so please. Join me in welcoming Y/N Jones.”

The hand left your shoulder and you looked up, taking in another nervous breath as you watched McGonagall place her hand on one of the doors, nodding to you to motion that it was time before pushing the doors open. You forced your face to remain neutral, and straightened your back as you walked alone up to the Headmaster in the front of the room.

The sound of your shoes hitting the stone floor caused your anxiety to rise again, but you pushed it down, forcing yourself to keep your head high and act like you knew you belonged here. You stopped in front of the stool placed at the top of the steps and turned, sitting down on it and effectively silencing the whispers that had been floating around the Great Hall.

The headmaster (god, what was his name again?) raised a dusty old witches hat and placed it on your head. The brim of the hat slipped over your eyes, and an older sounding voice resounded in your head, mulling over where to place you.

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

Fred and George had fully expected this year’s welcoming feast to go like all of the others. Cheer when the first years were sorted (booing when it was into Slytherin, of course), boo again when the new DADA teacher was announced, and then gorge themselves as they planned the perfect way to sneak puking pastilles into Draco Malfoys food (it never worked). However, they were both pleasantly and utterly surprised when Dumbledore announced a new transfer student. Hogwarts had never really had a transfer student, at least while they were there.

Fred turned to George and elbowed him slightly, a half smirk on his face. “Maybe we’ll have another gullible second year to talk into insulting Snape, eh George?”

George grinned as he swallowed a quick swig of pumpkin juice. “Maybe so Freddie.”

However, as the doors to the Great Hall opened and you walked through, all thoughts of pranking left the boys’ heads. You carried yourself like you were the only one meant to be here, and like the others were new students embarking on your domain, and it drew the boys’ full attention. They only remembered to pick up their jaws when you sat down on the stool to be sorted.

Ron, who had noticed their strange reaction, tried to get their attention through a poorly hushed whisper, but to no avail. The twins were too focused on what house you were going to be sorted into.

It felt almost foolish to hope that you would be a Gryffindor, but hope they did. They waited with baited breath as the Sorting Hat took its sweet, sweet time. After what felt like an eternity, the hat had finally reached it’s verdict.

“Slytherin!” The voice rang out through the Great Hall, and the Slytherins cheered as their flag was momentarily displayed on the walls of the Hall. The twins felt their heart sink as they kept their eyes on your form, watching you as you walked over to the Slytherin table and sat down in between the first years and older house members.

“Oi! Fred! George!” Ron exclaimed, exasperated as he gave up on catching his brothers attention. “Bloody hell! It’s like I don’t even exist!”

Next to him, Hermione giggled knowingly, shaking her head at Ron.

“Oh? Have you got something to say now?” Ron asked, turning his face towards Hermione.

She sighed and shook her head again. “You really are incredibly dense sometimes Ron.”

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

You had spent the remainder of the feast politely talking to your fellow house members, answering their questions and asking some of your own. It seemed that they were all either in awe due to your transfer, or in disbelief once they found out that you were American. Quite honestly, you couldn’t blame them. Yet your anxiety kept you from speaking about it, and instead had you hesitantly picking at the comfort food that had magically appeared on your plate once you had sat down. 

After the feast was done, you were escorted to your room and introduced to your roommates by a prefect whom had asked you multiple times (despite your constant assurances) if you needed a tour of the castle itself. You settled into your room quite easily, introducing yourself to the girls and exchanging pleasantries before unpacking your trunk and getting your belongings situated. One girl, Pansy you believed, seemed particularly kind to you, and you made a mental note to get to know her better. 

Before you knew it, you were fast asleep in your bed, wrapped in the comfortable blankets that had been provided and assuring yourself that tomorrow would yield only positives. 

~~~~~

The next day had indeed started out well. You woke up on time and were able to find your classes easily, and you were also praised by Professor Sprout for your extensive knowledge in Herbology. However, things took a small turn for the worst went you entered Defense Against the Dark Arts. 

The first thing you noticed was the teacher in the front of the room, watching with beady eyes as students casually found their way to desks and friends. Her monochrome outfit looked awful, having the likeness of a pattern you swore you saw on your grandmother’s couch once, and had given her a look that, quite plainly, reminded you of a toad. 

The second thing you noticed was the fact that the seats were filling up, and quickly. Scurrying towards the closest open seat, you ended up next to a girl with unruly hair and a red and yellow tie. She smiled kindly at you as you sat down, and you returned the action before returning your eyes to the front of the room. 

“Ordinary Wizarding Level Examinations, more commonly known as O.W.L.S.” The teacher spoke, seeming to punctuate every word of her sentence with a pause as the blackboard behind her wrote what she had spoken.

“Study hard, and you will be rewarded. Fail to do so, and the consequences may be, severe.” She smiled, a tight lipped sort of smile that let everyone know she was faking it. With a wave of her wand the stacks of books behind her began to float down the aisles, distributing themselves amongst the students.

“Your previous instruction on this subject has been, disturbingly, uneven.” You looked down as a book placed itself on your desk, pulling a face as you saw the cover and began to flip through it. 

“But you’ll be pleased to know that from now on you’ll be following a carefully constructed, Ministry approved course of defensive magic.” The girl next you did the same, and raised her hand. 

“Yes?” the professor called on her. 

“There’s nothing in here about using defensive spells?” she said, the confusion evident in her voice and mirroring the confusion on everyone else’s faces. 

“Using spells?” The professor laughed, walking closer towards your table. “Well I can’t imagine why you would need to use spells in my classroom!”

“We’re not gonna use magic?” a redhead boy piped up, turning the book over in his hands. 

“You’ll be learning about defensive spells in a secure, risk-free way,” the professor replied, her annoyingly ‘girly’ voice already seeming to get on your nerves. 

“Well what use is that?” A brunette boy who looked shockingly similar to Harry Potter asked. “If we’re going to be attacked it won’t be ‘risk free’.” 

“Students will raise their hands when they speak in my class!” The professor said, her nerves evidently already frazzled as she raised her voice. The brunette boy sat back in his seat (No seriously. He could make money as a Harry look-alike) , obviously on edge as the professor took a moment to turn around and address the class again. 

“It is the view of the ministry, that a theoretical knowledge would be sufficient to get you through your examinations which after all, is what school is all about.” 

“And how are theories supposed to prepare us for what’s out there?” the brunette boy asked again, sharing a look with his table partner who had spoken up earlier. 

“There is nothing out there dear,” the professor replied, and at this, you couldn’t hold back a scoff. The professor whipped her head in your direction, and a few classmates turned to look at you. 

You looked up and swallowed thickly, your eyes meeting the professors. “I mean, I could be wrong, but wasn’t there a basilisk within the school a few years ago? That kind of seems like something ‘out there’.” 

The professor stuttered, and a few eyes widened around the classroom. “Ex-cuse me?” she said, taking a step towards your desk. 

“I’m just saying that there are certain undeniable dangers. Especially around this school, it seems.” You paused, hands fiddling with your robes under the table in a nervous habit that you hadn’t quite seemed to kick just yet. 

“Lying, Miss Jones, will get you nowhere.” The professor fired back, a tight-lipped smile plastered on her face. 

“She’s not lying,” the brunette fired back. “There are present dangers out in the world. Like, oh, I don’t know. Lord Voldemort.” 

The entire class went silent at his comment, some turning to glare at him with barely disguised hatred and others suddenly finding their desks and books to be the most interesting thing in the room. 

The professor, after taking a moment to recover of course, changed directions in order to walk towards the brunettes desk. “Now that, is a lie.” She replied in a dangerously low tone. 

“Oh, so I suppose that Cedric Diggory dropped dead of his own accord then?” he replied in an accusatory manner. Gasps rose up from the class, disgust now evident in most of your classmates faces. 

“Cedric Diggory’s death was an unfortunate accident-” 

“No it wasn’t! Voldemort killed him! I watched it -” 

“That is enough Mr. Potter!” The professor yelled, losing her composure suddenly. The dead quiet settled over the class again as she smoothed down her skirt. “Potter, Jones, please see me for detention after classes today.” She said simply, before turning around and starting the days lesson as if the entire exchange had never occurred. 

You sat at your desk, absolutely dumbfounded. You had had no intention of speaking up in class, much less saying something apparently so controversial that it warranted a detention. Yet here you were, in your now decidedly least favorite class with your most recently least favorite teacher. How did you manage to get yourself into these situations?

The brunette next to you looked over with a small look of sympathy whilst your fellow Slytherins shared a not so subtle haughty laugh in the corner of the room. You sunk low in your seat, making up your mind indefinitely that speaking in class was completely off the table now. 

Thankfully, the class passed without any further altercations, and you nearly sighed with relief when it ended. You gathered up your items, shoving the new (and frankly quite stupid) DADA book into your bag and turning to make a beeline for the door. 

The brunette who had offered her sympathy earlier in the class spoke before you could leave the desk though. “Thank you for speaking up. For Harry I mean. Not a lot of people would do that, especially now.” 

You looked up, slightly confused. “What do you mean?” 

She returned your look. “Did you not hear?” 

“Hear about what?” The two of you had slowly made your way to Umbridge’s door, lest you incite her wrath twice in the same day. 

The brunette was about to answer when the redhead who had spoken earlier wrapped his arm over her shoulder in a protective matter. “Is this Slytherin bothering you Hermione?” he asked, narrowing his eyes at you in what you assumed was his best glare (honestly it wasn’t very good). 

You furrowed your eyebrows and took a step back. “Excuse me?” 

“I said,” he stepped in front of Hermione and crossed his arms, “is this snake bothering you?”

“Oh honestly Ronald!” Hermione cried out from behind him, grabbing his arm and pushing him out of the classroom door. She threw an apologetic smile over her shoulder at you before turning back to Ron and smacking the back of his head. 

You stifled a laugh at the look on his face and shook your head as you headed the opposing way down the corridor, not entirely paying attention to your surroundings as you double checked your schedule for the third time that day. 

Moments later you were sprawled out on the corridor floor, having collided with two people who had apparently been running at breakneck speed. You groaned and picked yourself up to a sitting position, looking over at the other two boys currently thrown over one another. Great. More redheads. 

Despite your better judgement, you gently kicked one of them with your foot after picking yourself fully up off of the floor. “Hey, are you guys alright?” 

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

Fred and George were royally screwed. Fucked, if you will. 

They hadn’t planned to quite literally body slam you in the corridors whilst running away from Filch after setting off dung bombs in his office, it had just. . . happened. And quite unfortunately, at that. 

George rolled over and off of his brother as he felt your foot kick him, looking up at you with what he hoped to Merlin was a dashing smile as he suppressed whatever copious amounts of pain that he was feeling in that moment. “Barely, but I suppose we’ll manage. Right Freddie?” He asked, looking down at his brother who was still planted face first into the stone floor. 

“Speak for yourself oh brother dearest,” he sarcastically replied as he peeled himself from the stone. 

“Weasley’s!” Filch yelled from down the corridor, running full speed (or as well as he could) towards them, students wrinkling their noses in disgust and turning away as he passed them. 

“And that,” Fred said, offering George a hand up, “would be our cue to leave.” 

Both twins offered you crooked grins, George even going as far as saluting you, before they dashed off through the corridors, quite possibly traveling faster than they had when they’d ran into you.

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

You watched them, thoroughly amused despite being tackled, and bent down to pick up the paper schedule that had fallen from your hands. As you reached down, you noticed a larger and much thicker parchment next to yours. You grabbed both and looked closer at the thicker parchment, watching with amazement as what seemed to be a map of the school faded away into nothing. 

You looked back up at the boys just in time to see them turn a corner and disappear from sight. It appeared as though you’d have to return their tricky map to them another time. 

Smiling at the thought of interacting with the chaotic individuals again, you headed off towards Divination. 

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