#but she's a fairy and her powers have slightly different rules anyway | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

coffehbeans · 10 months

Text

G/t July Day 29: Element

Another piece for y'all featuring everyone's favorite tropes! Plus I wanted to explore these very, very old characters of mine, as well as writing a bit of a more extreme size difference. It was fun!

Enjoy! Pls consider leaving a reply or reblog because my heart soars with joy from them you guys have no idea <3 Anyways onto the story!

........................................................................

When the Soarers glided through the sky, they brought forth the veil of the night, encasing the land with its glistening decorations. Such a wonderful sight it was, bright and sparkly, just like the teas made of moonlight that Eibhlin drinks. For many a year has the firefly fairy lived, and through her 5 centuries of life she looked up at many skies. Yet, this night felt different, as it marked one of many where she would not be at her cozy palace up in the trees. Instead, she laid on the earth, surrounded by tall grass and accompanied by her twin brother and other three companions.

What a weird bunch were they. On one side, there was Eibhlin and her brother Éibhear, both fairies of the light and royalty from the last decade, who looked tiny compared to most other living creatures, despite their powers vastly surpassing the expectations of their four-inch size. She glanced at her kin at her right, and he slept like a rock, not moving an inch and drooling from his mouth. She giggled. It’s good that her brother was resting, he lived so stressed out that he deserves a night of sleep.

‘Yet my mind grows restless, and my heart flutters, because-‘

To her left, was the human from Earth, Avery. The contrast of her appearance to Eibhlin was near comical, consisting of only a hoodie, a pair of jeans and a short type of boots that Avery calls “All Stars”, compared to the fairy’s silky white dress. Despite being transported to their world so suddenly, the human from Earth remained calm and marveled at each tiny detail that Eibhlin had taken for granted.

‘I can’t stop thinking about it, my heart keeps racing. Why am I feeling so…?’

The human girl adorned a red, glowing necklace, from within which the fairy could see the sleeping form of Rubens, tinier than her, dressed in attire that pertained to a prince, yet adorning bright crimson shackles on his wrists and ankles. The man would remain miniscule until he awakens, only then would his spirit leave the confines of his necklace prison and meet the others at his normal, human size.

Only one member of their unlikely group rested distant from them.

‘He stays far away from the four of us. Up there in the small hill, if I peer closely, I can see a Cumulos shape disguised as a cloud. He floats slightly above the hillside, mist evaporating from his grandiose form as he shifts in his sleep. Looking so imposing, and majestic, yet ever-so-distant and why, why is my heart beating faster?’

Eibhlin sighed. She could not lie to herself any longer. The reason she could not fall sleep was because of Nimbus.

She couldn’t remember when her feelings first happened. When it comes to passion and other matters of the heart, the fairy queen knows close to nothing of it. So many centuries she spent on war and dominion or ruling her land, that now that she finally resigned her position and embarked on a journey of her own, experiencing love along with so many other foreign feelings, she does not know how to handle them. Nimbus always laid a few yards away from her and her friends when he slept, despite him traveling along with the group. During the day, he shrinks for a little while and retains a human-sized shape, but night he allows himself to stretch to his full size and relax, floating like a cloud in a fair distance from them, as to not harm anyone under his sleep.

‘Even if his face is always neutral or sometimes sneering, he shows his affection for us through his actions’. Eibhlin pondered. Nimbus acted as a guardian for the traveling group, protecting them from dangerous foes, and she would do anything to just fly up to his face and thank him, if she could. If she could…

‘So why not do it right now?’ She saw the Cumulos disguised as a cloud morphing into its usual humanoid shape. He hovered over the hill and rested his head against his arms, looking up to the starry sky above. From Eibhlin’s disadvantageous angle, she could only see the back of his head as he was facing away from her.

‘I shall go to him. Fly right over his eye and wave. Perhaps we can finally share a few more words besides the brief thank-you’s I exchange when he’s human-sized. And perhaps we can finally know more about each other, share curiosities about the world, about tonight’s starry sky, or about living for so many years like we both have been through.’

She ceased her monologue and sprang up, flapping her wings until they buzzed, a pleasant hum to her ears. She flew away from her brother and friends, careful not to wake them up, and made her long flowy hair glow as bright as a firefly. She soared against the wind currents and took in a deep breath, all in her brave attempt at striking a conversation with Nimbus. A friend to her like the others, but who she least talked with. And yet, he was the one she most wanted to talk to.

And there was a reason for it, too. Being at four inches tall, compared to his stature of over a hundred feet, it seemed impossible for any sort of interaction to happen between them. She was still not sure If he would be able to hear her even if she shouted, and a single sigh from his mouth could send her flying away…

As she approached the giant cloud man, their size difference became more apparent, and doubts started creeping up into her mind. ‘He can’t see me at such a vast size’. She thought. ‘What if he does not see when I approach, and blows me away so strongly I end up in another country?!’ Shivers crawled up her spine and-

She laughed. ‘What a waste of thoughts.’ Those worries were of no use to her at that moment. However, just to be sure, Eibhlin glowed her hair just a little brighter, and made the buzz of her firefly wings sound a bit louder. Just in case he couldn’t see the tiny dot of light that was her. But he sure will, she’s sure of it.

Eibhlin flew up the hill, and her vision was encased by clouds. She glided up and up, caressing the white, cold surface with her hand, knowing all of it belonged to him, and yet he was not be able to feel her miniscule touch.

When she finally hovered over his resting form, she saw more details of the floating cloud giant. His skin was pale like the moon and soft, so soft she was scared that a breeze would dissolve it away, despite his body being solid and dissimilar from a real cloud. Curly, fluffy hair floated as if he was submerged in water, and its silver strands formed loops to appear like clouds of their own. A layer of thinner fog concealed his body like a tunic, which made him look like “a Greek man” as Avery had told Eibhlin once. His eyes closed and opened, revealing glassy irises as blue as the day sky, the pupils white like the stars above. The fairy let out a breath she did not realize she was holding. Looking at him, at his full size, she could see so many details she haven’t noticed before, like the blue dots that decorated his face like constellations. She felt heat rising in her cheeks, but decided to take a deep breath and focus on flying to one of his eyes, in order to see him and, maybe, exchange a few words.

It was then that it dawned on her like a rock sinking deep in her stomach: when the fairy reached his face, and looked at the eye that widened, she noticed she was barely the height of his iris. The appearance of Nimbus reduced to a single eye that covered her entire field of vision. The pale eyelids squinted and the pupil shrank, focusing on the minuscule light that appeared in front of it. Focusing on her.

“Is that…” He whispered, but his voice was as loud as thunder. No, much, much louder than that, for Eibhlin could not help but curl up and clutch her ears. Her eardrums ringed, those few whispered words throbbing through her every bone. It was simply so loud, she wanted to scream from the pain as the sound echoed through every molecule of her body.

“Wait, are you one of the fairy siblings?” He muttered, his voice as loud as before, and no amount of clasping her ears could stop the unbearable pain from pounding within her eardrums. But Eibhlin sucked in a breath and opened her eyes, fixating on the scrunched up blue eye right under her. It squinted even more as Nimbus attempted to differentiate which one of the sibling fairies it was, but to no avail. All he could see was a bright but small yellow light and the faint shape of insect wings. Nothing else.

“Y-yes. It’s, um, Eibhlin.” She said, projecting her voice. His brows furrowed. She could see almost every strand of his eyebrow, whose texture was like a cotton plant’s.

“Right. So, it’s the girl fairy. Um, Eilin? Could barely hear ya.”

Nimbus whispered even lower but, to no avail, Eibhlin’s ears already ringed and hurt against her skull. She gave up and accepted how his voice rocked inside her, letting her hands stop clutching her ears. In a strange manner, she liked how overwhelming Nimbus sounded to her. To Avery and Rubens, his size was awe-inspiring. But to a fairy like her and Éibhear, it was more than that, his presence looked like a landscape of its own, looming all-encompassing over them. The thrill of the danger his size naturally represented felt addicting. Delightful, even.

“Actually.” She shouted, feeling her throat dry. “It’s Eibhlin but, that does not matter.”

She glided towards his right ear and Nimbus widened his eyes, becoming as unmoving as a statue, no traces of the relaxed posture he had before she arrived there. Eibhlin flew next to his ear and leaned against it, lowering her shouting voice for a little.

“Funny as it may sound, I find myself unable to sleep.” She tittered. “What makes you stay awake at such a night?”

The ear moved up and down as Nimbus snorted in surprise.

“Is that the reason Your Majesty has reached out to me? Thought something serious had happened.”

Eibhlin chuckled, and Nimbus couldn’t help but tilt up the corners of his mouth in a smile. Her voice was so low, almost inaudible, and at that moment he couldn’t even see where she rested at his ear, so even if he wanted to laugh louder, he shouldn’t. Such fragile beings are the fairies, he’s sure that if he as well as shift his position she could be sent flying away, or worse, being crushed by him.

Nope. He shall not dare move.

“Perhaps the only serious reason I have for coming here is because I’m in dire need of company amidst my fit of insomnia. Also, please don’t call me Majesty. I’m not a queen for a long time.”

“Wait.” His head shifted, and Eibhlin flew away to give him more space. She floated until his eyes could see her as a shining dot, letting Nimbus relax and turn his head to his right safely. Eibhlin used this opportunity to fly closer to him and hover in front of his left eye. He continued from where he left off.

“I thought the Pallas were still in power.” He whispered, his eyes trying to contain the wonder at seeing someone so small.

“Well, for the past two centuries we used to be, but not anymore. I left for, how many years exactly? Nine? Ten years ago?”

“Wow. I mean, guess time flies fast.”

“You could say that.”

Eibhlin grinned at him. Although Nimbus’s expression remained neutral. He was never one to express much. Well, except when he’s scowling at whoever approached their traveling group with bad intentions, that is. Or when he used to play pranks to travelers who passed through the border, back when he used to guard it by the mountains. That last bit of his story left her thinking.

“You see, I’ve been thinking about it. Me and you, we’ve been at the same position for so many years, having lived as long as we have. And yet, only late in our lives we’ve entertained the idea of ‘traveling’. Isn’t it ironic?”

He smirked.

“Well, guess so. Either you travel around at least once in your life, or you spend centuries in boredom. Wouldn’t want that to happen to me again.”

Nimbus chuckled and huffed. Eibhlin was sent flying. She yelped, thrashing her wings as she spun in the air and Nimbus gasped in shock. No, not this disaster just when she managed to make him comfortable enough around her!

Her out of control movements were halted by a fuzzy surface that surrounded her and muffled the previously loud howls of the wind. For this moment, everything remained still, just the downy, cold texture of the single hand that held her in his grasp. ‘So that’s how it felt’, she thought, to be so small that only one hand was able to enclose all around her. In fact, Eibhlin had quite a lot of space in his hand. It was like she was inside a real cloud in the sky. If Eibhlin wanted to, she could even fly around for a bit.

The hand moved up and opened to reveal the massive blue and white eye staring wildly at the fairy. The iris twitched frantically as it focused on her, who to him looked like nothing more than a little dot of light, barely bigger than his fingertip.

“Crap! I’m so sorry!” He hushed. “I didn’t know I’d send you flying like this. Gosh.”

Eibhlin looked on at that alarmed eye, an alarmed face that was bigger than the palace she used to live in. She felt, amused. Giddy, even.

She laughed.

“That was an experience! I don’t mind you blowing me away!” She kept on giggling to herself.

Nimbus’s white cheeks changing into a violet color. A blush? He looked away from her.

“Still. Gosh, that was embarrassing.”

“It was fun, really!”

He brought his hand close to his eyes, so close that his hand rested over his nose. It was the only way Nimbus could be sure that even his sigh wouldn’t whisk the fairy away again. If he squinted enough, he could just make out the appearance of the queen that traveled with him and the others for so long. Flowy, wavy hair that looked so long, he’d not be surprised if it went beyond her knees. A pearly white skin, with upturned eyes that looked amused at him. A dainty body covered in a silky, knee-length white dress with a brown corset. Wow. She was a queen, and definitely looked the part. Nimbus was surprised that he couldn’t see so many of those details before, even when she flied so close to him. ‘It sucks that I can’t see fairies that well’, he thought to himself.

“You’re so tiny.” He breathed out. Eibhlin widened her eyes when she felt her heart hammering, a warm feeling spreading inside her chest. She looked down and smiled sadly.

“Yes. Perhaps it is kind of sad, that my stature makes you so worried about hurting me. And that because of me, we could barely talk to each other.”

She looked up and saw a different glance to Nimbus’ unchanging eyes. A sort of determined look. Serious but, focused.

“Nimbus?”

“Hold on, Your Majesty. Can you fly away from me for a bit?”

“Just Eibhlin will do. And yes, I can do that.”

She fluttered away from Nimbus, anticipating what he would do, but as well as fearing that he’d just send her away from him. She flew on her back until she saw his face entirely, happy that she could see more than just his eye. His expression changed to its usual relaxed self, and he closed his eyes.

The space of mist around her shifted and Eibhlin saw the clouds that formed Nimbus’s body swirling below her. They twirled as his limbs vanished and the fog retreated towards his face. His head disappeared at last, forming a bundle of clouds that shifted and, condensed? Until from it emerged a long, albeit much smaller, column of smog that slowly, but surely, morphed into the familiar humanoid shape of Nimbus again.

Although, this time, he appeared much smaller, the size of a human, to be precise. Eibhlin widened her eyes. He floated closer to her, approaching until his face was nearly touching her and, she could see the whole face easier now!

“Much better.” He smirked, proud of his transformation.

“That is amazing but…! You shouldn’t trouble yourself!”

“Nah, this was nothing. I do this all the time, remember?”

Nimbus laid down mid-air and rested his head on his arms, lying with his side turned to Eibhlin as he glanced at her with a soothing look on his face.

“I just wanted to take a closer look at you. No offense but, seeing you instead of just a speckle of light seems much better, in my opinion.”

She grinned at him, feeling warm and fuzzy at his interest in keeping a conversation with her. She sighed in contentment and flew above his head.

“So, now that this is better, what shall we converse tonight?”

“Just go with the flow. I don’t have anything in particular.”

He looked up at the starry sky above.

“But I must tell ya, Your Maj- Eibhlin, tonight does look very nice for a bit of stargazing.”

Eibhlin looked up, and a purple and pink nebula orbited over them, adorned with blue and white shining stars. The Soarers really outdid themselves with the night sky’s veil this time.

“I have to agree with you. Well then, if you don’t mind…”

She flew closer to him and he frowned at her in confusion, yet with a pleasant smile on his face. She landed on top of his chest and for a moment, Nimbus stared in astonishment. But he paid no mind to the sudden touch of the fairy. It felt nice. He paid no mind, as well, when she slowly laid on top of his chest, the light texture of her wings brushing against his sensitive skin. She felt warm against his touch, and the contact was a foreign, yet pleasant feeling for him. Nimbus smiled, feeling amused that the fairy felt so comfortable to lie on top of him like this.

“It’s getting quite late, and I’m afraid my wings have gotten quite tired. Guess I have no other choice than to rest for a bit.” She said jokingly.

Nimbus let out a hearty laugh, shaking Eibhlin on his chest, yet she smiled just as heartily.

She was so, so glad to hear that laugh.

“You know, I’ve never thought you had a playful side to you. Kinda enjoy it.”

“I’ve learned from the best.”

They giggled a bit, and continued to admire the beautiful night sky. Even as the hours went on, and Nimbus eventually slowly started to grow, Eibhlin did not mind. His chest started to expand constantly under her, and yet she enjoyed seeing how much more it extended over her field of vision. The soft surface of his skin underneath her became even more plush as it gained mass, and she felt herself sinking into the surface. It took little for them both to fall asleep, not realizing the moment they drifted into slumber.

Eibhlin’s dreams brimmed with delight and in that moment, her heart could not have been fuller. She had dared to venture forth, embarking on a journey with her eccentric band of friends. And now her bravery had rewarded her, for venturing into that fateful night and encountering with the one she longed to meet.

#g/t #giant/tiny #sfw g/t #fairy #fairies #a human a ghost two fairies and a cloud giant walk into a bar...#i wish to share more of my blorbos #g/t writing #g/t story #coffeh writes #g/t july #gt july

12 notes · View notes

jrheatriz · 9 months

Note

I know you were talking about Glezra, but I’m still super curious about AWIA. What all have you fleshed out for your different kingdoms? What inspirations do you have for them? Any real world parallels or aspects to your world? Are there any communities under different rulings in the world?

OMGGGGG I COULD TALK ABOUT THIS ALL DAY. okay so i have several kingdoms where their concepts are somewhat to fully developed. here's a list.

Andanthe. so andanthe is a kingdom settled in a spot near the seaside, but mostly nestled in a forest grove. i based it heavily off of places i've been in new england, so they experience all four seasons and a considerable amount of precipitation, including snow. buildings are carved inside of large trees (deciduous mostly) or underground or slightly above ground to avoid flooding. i wanted to avoid having kingdoms while specific types of fairies exclusively inhabiting it, so andanthe is a very diverse kingdom population wise, but a considerable portion of fairies have moth wings, including the royal family. also i wanted to base the traditional clothes, textiles and architecture on some south asian cultures since the main character is south asian. (i mean she's not human technically but if she was, she'd be south asian.) andanthe exports quartz, gold, graphite and textiles to the other kingdoms, and have a mainly plant based cuisine. they are known for their strong army and due to their close ties with the seaside nation of the anwhines, they have a formidable navy. royalty and nobility wear forest green and gold, and this sets a trend for clothing styles throughout the kingdom.

The Anwhine Isles. so the anwhines are based off the caribbean/west indies bc i'm west indian and it would be illegal for me to not include a caribbean character if i'm world building. the isles are a group of islands in the middle of the sea. duh. but they're not that far from andanthe if u take a boat, which is why the two kingdoms have been close allies for millennia. their relationship has been a bit strained due to some #familydrama though. (the current king, marolas, is pissed that his sister althea refuses to take up her duties as princess, and morgan has unfortunately gotten caught in the crossfire.) the area doesn't really experience much "winter" weather, but they do have monsoon seasons and hot seasons and whatnot. alot of that is determined but what fruits are in bloom and stuff. they export pearls, sea foods, spices, and pretty textiles to their neighboring kingdoms. they also have a booming boat/naval resource industry and the best navy. the royal family, as well as a considerable portion of the population, have dragonfly wings. oh, and while they do have very colorful clothing, navy blue is the color that symbolized wealth and nobility.

Monerva. so monerva is a fairly new ally to andanthe, due to morgan and arwileth's tentative friendship. i say tentative because arwileth is kind of like a teacher's pet for the older and more powerful royals on the fairy council, and he gives status reports on andanthe's leadership because the morale on morgan being king is pretty shaky to her bougier political counterparts. that aside, monerva is located in a big and beautiful meadow surrounded by crustal clear river systems and a dense grove. they have a booming silk industry due to silkworms being plentiful in the region. their fashion reflects this: flowing white laces and cottons, floral perfumes, and colorful dyes (usually pastel pink, purple and blue). the most significant resource to their name, however, is that they are deeply connected to old forest magic, and use it to create healing medicinal resources and using magic for technological advancements. most of these tech advancements, specifically, were pioneered by arwileth. he's a bit of a prodigy in that respect. anyways, many of the fairies that live in monerva have butterfly wings; arwileth in particular has blue morpho wings.

okay finally, Ilwich. ilwich is located in a boggy/marshy/wetland area, with settlements nestled in, on, and around an interconnected weaving of mangroves trees. it's not super close to the other kingdoms, which kind of orbit each other, and is therefore fairly isolated both geographically and economically. therefore, they rely on trade and export of raw materials, as well as creating textiles and using imported materials to create things to export to other kingdoms--furniture, glass, potions, et cetera. due to the uhh. nature of their current leadership. they rely a whole lot on andanthe for economic support since the war. their clothing includes a lot of browns and dark greens, as well as flowy elements. in the past, ilwich had been a place of fervent religious history, and has catacombs full of texts dedicated to the Old Gods. (including the god Wrath, who is as u know. super important.) but uhhh other than that ilwich doesn't have much going for them. they pretty much just minded their own business until paladis' reign tbh. though due to current events the kingdom finds itself on the high council of fairies, which incites much drama between itself and the other kingdoms. fun! surely this won't cause any significant issues for anyone in particular. like say. the main character.

anyways yeah! there's some other stuff in development regarding the other kingdoms on the council, but those are Very half baked. so there is this. yippee

#ask #oc stuff #jrheatriz.awia #oc rant #worldbuilding

7 notes · View notes

autumn-lavelle · 4 months

Text

Dreamtalia: New Dreamers

Yep, I made the Dreamtalia butterfly eyes for my littlest muses! Which I shall post here cause I don't know how to paste all these on on paper.All the designs are very simple, as are the colors because I am calling them 'New dreams' that were born. My interpretation of the micros family dynamics is probably different then most. Kugel is loved by Roderich, and Ladonia sees Berwald as his father. Also has a crush on Peter.

The 'New Dreams' are not fully formed, or matured, and so they took the little nations as vessels to use their energy to become whole. They do it while the kids sleep, and try to be inconspicuous to not alert Reeve, the older Nations, etc. These ones will be going on my side account @little-dreamtalia

So yeah...Anyway!

Template and Dreamtalia verse is made by @kyokyo866

Kugel's dream eyes. No Arcana number, or title as of yet. He is not fully a lucid dreamer like papa Roderich, but he has very potent imagination. His dream self is much more shy, and airheaded, very dreamy (pun intended) personality. Forgetful. Is drawn to the Emperor and Empress but too scared to try and get close. (yes I am PruAus shipper, and Kugel is their son leave me alone.)

Ladonia's dream Butterfly. Very headstrong, and excited, has so much creativity but has a hard time expressing or creating things. Is a perfectionist and so critical of anything he does. Is drawn to the Tino and Ber, and knows Ladonia is secretly scared of being shoved aside. Also has a crush on Peter in and out of dreams. His turbulent heart, and secret affection for Peter made it easy for this Dream butterfly to capture Ladonia.

Slightly stronger new dream. But as you can see, the designs of it have not fully matured. Her dream Butterfly is is headstrong, bossy, and scared. She is trying to prove herself, and does not want to be under Reeves rule or ...the other. Likes to sing, and usually is seen wandering the open dream lands and talking with fairies.

Seborga's dream butterfly. Much more ...sad. His was a dream that was dying, and slowly came back. He resonated with Seborga, and the micronation felt sorry for the dream and let's him use his body as a vessel. This dream feels affection towards Italy and Romano. He mostly wanders the realm of Cups, loving the sea. Is not flirtatious like waking Seborga, but he is melancholic and poetic.

Dream Hutt Rivers butterfly. This one is very weak, and Hutt River himself is barely clinging to Micronation hood. They both are, in a sense, hiding from much older dreams. He can be found in the realm were Magician was. He needs to feed of much more powerful sources to stay going. Also is a tad of a masochist. Despite all this he is very warm and protective for people he (or Hutt) care about.

THE NON MICROS

Dream Moldova (. Has a shot at being very strong. Very much into dark and strange things, including his humor. It's why Moldova made the perfect vessel. This butterfly dream is precocious, flighty, childishly cruel, mischievous and can set things on fire when angry.

Dream TRNC. You heard that right. Despite his young physical age, this dream butterfly found this little nation to be strong willed and had to have him. Wise, cautious, and decisive and is a suede leader for the new little dreams. He dwells in the small, little corner of the world of dreams that the New Dream butterflies were formed. No one enters into their abode without his express permission.

3 notes · View notes

thebrownssociety · 3 years

Note

Hi, so I was wondering about the toons getting an education. You said that they didn't know how to read or write at the begining. First of all, when did they learn to read and write? And second of all, when they started learning those things, how did they do it? Did all of the toons go to school, you know, like kids do? Did they have classes and classmates, different subjects, different teachers? Or did they have private tutours?

So, first things first, thank you Ana for giving me one of my most complicated asks yet! That's why it's taken me so long to answer, I need to first of all sort through the strands of my brain in order to find the answer, and then translate it so it can be understood by normal people.

This headcanon is LONG, I hope you lot enjoy.

the majority of the toons [about 90 percent] are NOT created with the ability to read and write. In the olden days it was generally assumed that they didn't have the ability to learn either.

The other ten percent DID. They tended to be toons that were created to be doctors, lawyers or other professions that need the ability to read and write. Or members of royalty because the creators made the decision that royals would have been taught to read and write and so incorporated that into there designs. This is why Porky Pig is unusual, because he has the ability read and write, but he's not royalty and he doesn't have an official profession. Technically Porky is an anomality, it just happens that his anomality has helped him more than hindered him.

Moving onto the villains, it tends to follow the same rules as above. Grimhilde [wicked stepmother] has the ability to read and write because the creators assumed that as the now queen she had to be a princess before, therefore fit the rules.

Maleficent however, couldn't read or write [much to her frustration] because she was a villainous fairy and although she was [I think?] royalty of some sort within the fairy world the creators decided she didn't need the ability.

You might be getting an idea of the timeline from the movies I mentioned. I headcanon that the toon began campaigning to get an education during the 60's. They did this largely via peaceful means [mainly because one thing that has always been acknowledged by humans is that Toons are quite powerful and they aren't to keen to annoy them massively. The toons for their part don't want to cause massive distress to humans - they want to make them laugh! - so it actually works to a degree. During the 60's though the Toons decided something needed to be done.

The directors and other higher-ups had been promising to change the rights for the last decade and it hadn't happened. In 1965 the Toons decided enough was enough, they would start peacefully protesting. They adhered to the riles of there contracts to the letter. The LT's contract for instance says they have to arrive at least five minutes before filming starts, so they arrived five minutes before filming started when previously they'd been arriving half an hour so the director could run through everything with them.

They also left straight after seeing as there contract said they were free to go after the filming ended.

The LT's were also contracted to be available should WB ask them to do anything like help in the kitchens, but they only gave to do that for a set amount of hours each week. They worked those hours to the letter and went straight after. A few of the more devious toons even reasoned the contract just says they have to show up, not do any work, so they didn't. At first the studio got round that by asking toons who they knew would do the work properly, but it didn't take the toons long to figure out that was happening and then the 'good' toons wondered why they should bother when the 'bad' toons were being allowed to get off scot-free?

Eventually no toons was doing any work to help the general running of WB at all.

The above, I should mention, did not happen overnight. It took around 18 months, and it wasn't just happen at WB. Although Disney didn't have the exact same contract, they ran on the general principle of arriving at a set time and leaving straight after, so the toons just adhered to there contracted times.

18 months later and the companies decided enough was enough. They were having to go overtime to film the cartoons/movies now the toons weren't doing extra [previously unpaid] hours. [Which they did because the majority of them are perfectionist when it comes to the cartoons and wanted them to be the best they could be.] They were also having to pay the Human employees extra to cover the hours, often at extremely short notice. And unlike the toons they weren't contracted to come in just because the company wanted them to.

So anyway, the point of me detailing this is to explain the circumstances that meant that the companies were at there wits end and ended up petitioning the president to give the toons rights. Mickey Mouse also helped out enormously here as well. Walt Disney had died a few months earlier and Mickey was now running Disney. Which also meant control of the theme parks. Mickey decided that seeing as Toons clearly weren't valued enough to bother educating [despite being proven as intelligent] they shouldn't bother providing entertainment at the parks either.

The Disney toons also had it worked into there contracts that they had to make periodic appearances at Disney's parks [kinds like the people dressing up as the characters do now, except it's the actual toons] and are on a rota basis. Unless they're doing an events [like Halloween for the villains or valentines day for the princes and princesses] then each toon does at least one 12-hour day at Disney per year. It was this bit that Mickey was putting a stop to.

It had a real knock-on effect as, as well as the rides, most people went there hoping for a glimpse of there favourite toon. Without that...

As much of an absolute business-killer as this idea was, Mickey was more than happy to explain to anyone who would listen [read: most of the world news] exactly WHY he was doing it. With all this pressure it was really just a matter of time until the laws changed and the toons were able to gain an education. This was in 1968.

Now as fast as things work in Toontown, this was such a complicated area that it took a full 2 years for the various schools to be built, staffed and a curriculum drawn up (which followed the same basic guide as human education, but with some added stuff and some stuff taken out. It basically followed a 'would a toon actually need this in future life?' and went from there.

Here's were it gets slightly complicated. Because I mentioned before that toons age in a weird way. But the main thing is they go up and down in there age on a day to day basis until they are about 20. This makes educating them quite difficult, to say the least.

The studios solution to this was to bring in Human teachers to teach them at the grades human children would go through. So Kindergarten, Grade 1 ext. The thing was that a lot of the toons had learn some of th education already, like identifying shapes and coulors and things. And of course the ones who were professionals [Like Ludwig Von Drake and Gus Goose] already had a college-level of education, they just needed to prove it to the teachers.

The end result of this was that it wasn't unusual for a toon to be in a class for only a few months at a time while they did the work [don't forget, they only need 4 hours of sleep as well, so they could study for longer if they wanted]

It did eventually even up though and the toons ended up spending 9 months if the right class. For example, Porky Pig aced Kindergarten all the way up till 4th grade and then found he was struggling with 5th grade. This was a shock to him after spending 21 months in education [excluding holidays], to suddenly need help. Porky was forced to realise that he had centred a lot of his identity around being 'the one who can help his friends/family read.' and hadn't expanded his personality much beyond that.

So yeah, as an average most toons took about ten years to complete Kindergarten - end of high school.

Then a few of them took college courses, which lead to them getting degrees, which led to a couple of them getting teaching degrees. The majority of the LT's you see in Tiny Toons [excluding Foghorn, who decided he didn't want to be a teacher, and Elmer who took a undergraduate degree in law until 1992] did their teaching degrees from 1988 - 1992.

There's a couple of you who might had realised that they were filing Tiny Toons at the times and learning how to be parents at the same time. That was partly why they wanted to do it then, they realised that after Tiny Toons had finished the kid would need educating. Although the human teachers had been alright, they'd found it slightly difficult to cope and the LT's didn't want their kids to go through that particularly. Also, what's the point of building a school just to got rid of it after?

So here's the main schools: (After the toons gained teaching degrees)

Disney Elementary - Kindergarten- Grade 5.

Hanna-Barbara Middle School - Grade 6_8.

The Looniversity (the name stuck after the TV show) Grades 9-12.

So the Tiny Toons finished filming in 1992 and had it promptly explained to them that they would be attending school the next August [Tiny Toons were created in 1987, so were 6 by the end of filming.]

Toons don't do pre-school because there doesn't seem to be any point. Loads of Toons have coped without preschool for decades now, why would they start now?

So the TT's started Kindergarten at Disney Kindergarten, run by Snow White and helped out by Cinderella and Fairy Godmother. Kindergarten is the only school year where the toons have to do an entire year in it, the logic being they'll have longer to get adjusted to school if they're there for a year as opposed to three months.

Then it was decided which was the toon would go. Would they move upwards into Disney Elementary school, run by the Three Good Fairies? Or would they be taught by human professors? Or - the final option - they could be privately educated. [It's mainly royalty or the children of famous toons like Micky and Minnie that go down this option. The TT's were unusual in that all the LT's opted to send there kids to Disney Elementary with the hope it would help them make friends with other toons outside the LT bubble. Whether it did or not remains up for debate.

Anyway, they then go to Hanna-Barbera Middle School, which is then followed by the Looniversity. Now, despite what was shown in Tiny Toons, The Looniversity does not focus solely on Toon Physics and the like, the kids have to study the curriculum. They have options to take Toon Physics class if they wanted to, but they don't have to.

The Toons technically don't HAVE to finish High School, but they're strongly encouraged to. College is another matter, it's quite hard so only Toons who the adults know will stand a chance of passing are encouraged to do it.

Toontown University focuses primarily on The Performing Arts and Toon Physics. As well as those subjects, it offers Art, Physical Education, separate courses of Dance, Drama and Music and LAMDA.

If a Toon wants to study the likes of Maths, English and Science they can either be privately educated [A lot of the adult toons have ridiculous amounts of money due to there cartoons and the fact that until the 50's Toontown didn't exist and all there expenses were being covered by there respective directors/studios] or they could join one of the smaller colleges that specialised in what they want to do.

Push comes to shove, they find a Adult toon [over the actual age of 25] with a degree and try to mentor under them. This happens a lot.

#Looney Tunes Headcanons #Looney tunes headcanons #Looney Tunes #Asks #Education #Porky Pig #maleficent #Grimhilde #tiny toons #Mickey Mouse #Minnie Mouse #Kindergarten #Education is so complicated #Education is so important #Disney Parks #Education is highly valued by the toons #It took them long enough to get it

21 notes · View notes

miraculoustails · 3 years

Text

So, as a fan of Winx Club, I was super excited when the trailer for Fate came out. Soon after, someone pointed out Techna was missing and Flora was replaced with her white cousin (coughwhitewashingcough). I quickly realized this would be another Voltron or Riverdale. I watched the series so I could know everywhere it got wrong, and hopefully enjoy it some. So here’s my review of Fate (may contain some spoilers of Fate, but definitely of WC)

Bloom. Let’s start with all that’s wrong with her. Bloom is supposed to be confident, but slightly unsure. Fate!Bloom is extremely insecure and miserable. She’s always doing something super “edgy” and “breaking the rules”. From the way the first season has gone, it doesn’t even look like she’ll be a princess. She’s just labeled as “super powerful changeling”. Which is another thing. Her parents. They’re supposed to be her super supportive adoptive family who ADOPTED HER. Instead, her parent’s REAL child died of a heart condition, and they unknowingly raised Bloom all these years. They didn’t even raise her well, as they were super super abusive. Yet she still loves them and it’s never adressed how abusive and disgusting their actions were. Instead it’s just “complicated”.

Aisha’s just. Yikes. They made her into a goody two shoes bookworm. While i’m not sure how exactly, something just feels wrong and racist about it. I could just be leaping because of the previous whitewashing racism. She’s also super jealous of Bloom for her progress in magic, and it’s just. Never adressed. She’s super helpful and will break any rules in the first like two episodes then she suddenly becomes rigid rule addict out of nowhere.

Tella, aka “Flora’s cousin” is SO annoying. They made her into this awkward fat girl and constantly make fat-phobic jokes. It’s shown as bad, but also in a way, it’s not. There’s another character that’s queer and the only way his queerness is talked about is homophobic jokes by Riven. Side note, Riven is an asshole but jfc they went WAY too far with his dick-ness. He’s practically a bad guy. But anyways, Tella. The fact she’s a whitewashed Flora already makes me hate the character, but she’s always whining. She’s constantly bullied, and she stands up for herself but she also likes it??? Which is wrong in so many ways.

Musa. She’s supposed to be a sound fairy, but they made her into a “useless mind fairy” called an empath. She can feel everyone’s feelings and cant turn off the power. Which makes no sense because every other fairy can turn it on/off. They just couldnt think of something to make her power difficult to use (they wanna be edgy). She’s also a huge jerk to Tella the first episode, which is understandable, but still. Winx Musa is supposed to be a lot more tolerant.

And last, but certainly very far from least. Stella. Stella is absolutely ruined. The show is supposed to start off with her saving Bloom, in the human world, from a witch-made monster. But it starts with Bloom going to school after she was just. Found. By the headmistress. And Stella’s a complete bitch, trying to get her killed. Stella’s abusive and toxic, and suddenly gets a “redemption arc” where she goes “sorry for being absolutely horrible. It’s mommy issues. Not my fault :((( im so broken” and everyone just pretends nothing happened. Not to mention she’s fucking Sky, and don’t get me started. Sky’s not even supposed to know her.

Which leads me to Sky and the specialists. Sky’s all like “oh i shouldnt keep fucking Stella but she needs me. But also, hot new freshman looking fine （´≝◞⊖◟≝｀)”. And he’s repeatedly talking about how “broken he is” and how he wants to “fix everything so he doesnt have to think about his brokenness” and he’s just “a fixer” (aka weirdo speech by jughead). As for the specialists, they’re supposed to be at a whole seperate school. But for the sake of throwing in early romance and sex plots, they made it different sections of alfea, yet having a “headmaster” for the specialists that’s still not The Headmaster??? Not to mention, as far as i remember, fairies were all female and specialists all male, which does have some sexist connotations, but now they’re both co-ed and im not sure how i feel about that.

Now, as for the show as a whole. The plot is try-hard. It has it’s enjoyable moments but bloom isn’t supposed to care so much on her past. She does care, but that’s supposed to be so it leads her to clash with the witches. At first, it seemed like there was a witch school like there should be, but now it’s a village that was destroyed years ago?? So it’s quite confusing what’s going on with the witches. There’s a completely seperate enemy, possibly made by the witches though. In Fate, everyone knows truths about Bloom’s past, but it’s hidden. Meanwhile in WC, no one knows she’s a princess or how she ended up in the human world. Im pretty sure fairies in the human world are supposed to be semi-normal, (harry potter wizards/witches kinda thing). However, in Fate, there hasnt been a fairy in the human world in ages. In an effort to avoid major spoilers, i’ll just say. The drama with Rosalind is so stupid and cringy. Also the shock factor in the last episode, which is supposed to show you how she really is evil, it was unnecessary. It made me feel nauseous and shocked in a very bad way. Shows are growing this habit of having dramatic twists where something graphic suddenly happens with no warning, but the problem is that there’s no warning. It’s bad enough even when there is awarning, but it’s still intense for even mentally healthy people. Very damaging to those of us who have mental disorders.

I could have so much more to say on how disappointed I am, as an adult who grew up watching winx club, but im very tired and honestly, i could go on forever. All in all, as it’s own show, Fate is not bad, even enjoyable once you get into it. But as a Winx Club remake, it crushes my dreams and breaks my heart. It stomps all over my childhood and what was dear to me. I think i will continue watching it if more seasons come out, but there’s very little i enjoy about the show. It’s nearly impossible to enjoy if im comparing it to Winx Club, but a decent amount easier if i watch it with comparisons. If were to rate it, i’d probably say it’s 2/5. 2.5 if im being generous. I’m just very disappointed in this reboot, and wish they had made it more accurately, rather than trying so hard to appeal to young adults.

#fate the winx saga #winx club #winx #fairy #netflix #review

30 notes · View notes

pink-imagines · 4 years

Text

reach me behind your voice

chapter 1: harmonize

summary: Shoto, your childhood friend, has grown distant towards you despite your history and Bakugo, the seemingly no-good rebel, has an interesting secret.

a/n: i’m not great at summaries, but you get the jist. this chapter is shorter since it’s more of a try-out. the other chapters will probably be longer and therefore take longer time to make.

warnings: none, yet

masterlist

requesting rules

You can remember clearly how throughout your childhood you’d always be dancing, no matter what the situation. It easily gained you nicknames like “ballerina” or “sugar plum fairy”. As soon as you could, you took any dance class that was available to you. Street dance, break dance, jazz, modern and, your favorite, ballet. So of course when you heard someone playing the violin solo from the Swan Lake theme, Op. 20: No. 18, in the house next to yours you tried to find out who it was. The neighbour who lived next door was the Todoroki family, you had seen little of them at all but knew that they had a son the same age as you. Your eight year old self made it a mission to figure out if it was him who was playing. Luckily, your window to your bedroom faced his so it wasn’t hard to figure out. The hard part was getting him to notice you. Knocking as hard as you could on the window didn’t seem to help, he was probably wearing ear plugs.

The first time he noticed that you were there was when he for once opened his window. It was a hot day so your window stood wide open as well. Shoto had never thought about looking into his neighbour’s window before but the music made him look a bit closer. You were playing some sort of hip hop song, practicing for your latest recital. He liked watching you move like that, it seemed as if you had fun. But as soon as you caught him he went to close the window. “No! Wait!”, you exclaimed and almost threw yourself out the window, “Could you play me Op. 20: No. 18?” He didn’t answer, he could only nod. With an eye still on you he started playing, and of course you started dancing. His smile grew and grew, sure you messed up at some parts but it was still fun to see someone dance to his music. “I’m not great at ballet but I’ll practice more if you play for me!”, you promised.

That promise was kept until the present of today. Shoto and you became close friends, first from your windows and then up close. Soon enough you did everything together, you had even fixed a can and string phone between your windows. The phone was still up, but rarely used- seeing as you had real phones now. You had been through a lot with Shoto, and you had supported each other every step of the way. Music is what kept you together, and it seemed as if other people could see that too. The two of you put on a lot of shows together, and whenever either of you needed to practice the other would be there too. Shoto would play for you and you would dance for him.

Your senior year of high school is when you started drifting apart. Shoto had too many competitions and you had too many performances... other than that it seemed as if he wanted to give up on his talent, and was only hanging on a thread made by his father’s approval. Dancing had become a thing that only happened in a studio or on stage, and playing the violin had become a thing that was only supposed to be played in his room or on stage.

From time to time you’d walk to school together. You made sure he was eating, and he made sure you didn’t have to walk home alone later. The smallest reasons gave you hope that you still cared about each other. “We’re having a live performer during my next ballet recital.”, you told him on your walk to school, “Kind of like how you used to play for me.” You knew it was useless to try to grasp at something so far away, but you couldn’t help but to try. The chilly air only fueled your want for the warm feeling of Shoto’s embrace. You never thought about how much you’d miss his hugs, but the late-September weather only made it worse. “Oh really?”, Shoto kept his eyes on the road, “What is it about then?” Of course he completely ignored your last statement, but there was nothing to do about it unless you wanted to make things worse. “The pianist had composed it himself, we’re gonna get to know about it today.”, you explained. “What’s the pianist n-” “Hey, Y/N!”, one of your close friends interrupted Shoto mid-sentance. “Hi, Mina.”, you waved at her but she still engulfed you in a hug. “Cute scarf, it even matches the uniform!”, she smiled and then looked over at Shoto, “Sorry, I didn’t interrupt anything right?” “No, I was on my way anyways.”, he put on a charming smile, “Have a good day- and don’t walk home alone if it gets too dark, Y/N.” “I won’t.”, you waved and watched him walk away. “I totally interrupted something, didn’t I? You look disappointed-” “Just forget about it, Mina.”, you smiled at her even though you were kind of disappointed. “I told you, you should tell him that you have a crush on him. Then he’d totally pay more attention to you.”, she wrapped her left arm around your shoulders. “I don’t have a crush on him!”, you exclaimed even though she gave you a very unbelieving look, “Even if I did, it doesn’t mean that he’d actually like me back.”

School went on like usual; you had your morning classes, ate lunch with Mina and Kyoka and then had your afternoon classes. During the entire day you didn’t talk to Shoto, whenever you tried he always had somewhere else to be. So it was like every other day, though at the end of the day he approached you. It was right when you were about to leave, you has just taken out your outdoor shoes from your locker. “It says it’s gonna rain later.”, he held out his umbrella to you, “You shouldn’t be catching a cold before your performance.” “Thank you.”, you took the umbrella from him and gave him a soft smile, “Are you sure you shouldn’t have it though?” “I’ll be fine... just take it.”, he scratched the back of his head and looked away from you, “I’ll see you tomorrow morning?” “Sure.”, you nodded. “Bye, then.”, he huffed and walked away. “Bye, Shoto.”, you said and followed him with your eyes as he left.

Like Shoto said, it started raining. It wasn’t a lot of rain but he was overly careful like that at times. You skipped over the puddles forming on the uneven road and hummed the tune to singing in the rain. No one was out on the road so you lost yourself in your own imagination as you danced down the lonesome path. You were thinking about why things with Shoto had turned out the way they did, if you really just did fine different friendgroups. He couldn’t be completely blamed for the distance that had been put between you since you had taken a few steps back when you realised you had feelings for him. You didn’t even want to think about it, your own feelings could ruin your entire friendship. He probably just distanced himself because he saw you did the same... You didn’t have time to think much longer as you bumped into someone. “Hey, watch it.”, the boy hissed. “Sorry!”, you quickly backed up and looked up at him. It was the boy from your school, Bakugo. You didn’t know much about him, just that he seemed kind of rude and that he hung out with the very nice Kirishima. You never quite understood their dynamic, they were really the opposite when it came to personality. He let out an irritated sigh before he kept walking... in the same direction you were going. After a while he stopped suddenly, making you accidentally walk into his back. “Are you following me or something?”, he turned around to you. “No, I’m going this way too.”, you huffed and walked past him. You could feel his eyes on you as you walked, and honestly it grew tiring. “Do you have a staring problem or something?”, you turned around to him. “Huh? Why would I look at you?”, he walked up next to you, “You skip when you walk, of course you draw attention to yourself when you walk weird.” “Oh, sure!”, you shook your head and kept walking, faster this time. Bakugo quickened his pace, making it obvious that this was some sort of competition. So of course you walked faster.

This lasted until you were both power walking to your destination. You hadn’t even realised that you got to the dance studio until you almost walked into the door. You pulled out your card to open the door, but Bakugo already had his out and opened the door. “What are you doing? Why do you have a key card?”, you asked. “I’m working here.”, he looked away from you as he held open the door, “Are you gonna walk in or what?” You skeptically walked in, keeping an eye on him during the entire time. He wasn’t a dancer, was he? If he was then you’d know it. He wouldn’t look you in the eye no matter how hard you stared and his ears were turning slightly red. “What are you staring at!?”, he exclaimed. “I’m just trying to figure out if you’re a dancer.”, you muttered. “I’m not a dancer.”, he said. You stared at him with squinted eyes, trying to see if he was lying. “Fine then.”, you said and walked to the changing rooms, “I wouldn’t care if you were, you know.” “I’m not!” “Okay, okay!”, you walked into the changing rooms.

When you got out into the dance studio you saw Bakugo talk with your dance teacher. You pulled your pants up higher over your leotard, making sure that they sat at just the right place, and went to stretch. While stretching you kept an eye on Bakugo, noticing the piano in the background... slowly pieces started to fall together. As soon as they stopped talking the teacher walked out of the studio, probably to get changed, and Bakugo walked up to you. “You better do well, I’m partly in charge of choosing the roles today.”, he grinned. “I’m sure that won’t be a problem.”, you sat down in a split and looked up at him, “Whether you like me or not, it has nothing to do with my dancing and I’m sure that my teacher wouldn’t be fond of you picking favorites because of their personality.” “Whatever...”, he huffed and walked over to the piano.

When all the dancers had gathered the teacher walked back in and quickly counted all the students. “Seems like we’re all here. I hope everybody has warmed up and stretched, we’ll begin immediately.”, mrs. Takahashi said in a stern tone, “This is Bakugo Katsuki, a well known pianist whom has won many competitions.” You looked at Bakugo as he bowed in a greeting... you had no idea that he had won competitions, let alone that he was well known. Then again, you never really cared about where the music came from unless it was from Shoto. “He’s composed a few pieces, which put together becomes an hour long performance.”, she explained further, “So it won’t be the longest performance we’ve done, but it’s new and exciting. I’m expecting all of you to do your best at these auditions, but for today we’ll be learning the parts.” Mrs. Takahashi motioned for Bakugo to start playing, which he did. It was quick, nothing that you hadn’t done before but it’d always be harder to learn when the beat is quicker. There was no time for slacking, and your interest had peaked. “That was a part of the introduction.”, mrs. Takahashi said as Bakugo stopped playing, “As you can tell, it’s quick. This is a story of tragedy, a young boy who’s invisible to everyone around him no matter what he does. He falls in love with a girl, and though she cannot see him he still tries his best to save her from different situations. I’ll be giving you a short story, so that you can read through it later. For now, let’s get to work.” And so the practicing started. Bakugo never looked away from the notes, he was extremely focused... it was probably the first time you had seen him this quiet and calm. You couldn’t let yourself be distracted, though- afterall, hadn’t you kind of challenged him. Details were to be perfected, steps were to be remembered, and your energy needed to be focused on doing the best you possibly could.

At the end of the lesson, while you were stretching before you got to go home, mrs. Takahashi gathered your attention by clapping harshly twice. “Listen up! You all did fantastic today!”, she sounded proud for once, “Next time we meet will be in two days, for our next lesson. You’ll get an email with the right location, that’s where you’ll audition and that’s where we’ll later hold the performance. Be on time, alright?” “Yes, ma’am.”, all the students answered. “Great work, you’re free to go.”, she nodded and everybody made their way to the changing rooms. You went to grab your waterbottle and when you stood back up mrs. Takahashi stood beside you. “You did well today, Y/L/N.”, she said, “I’m expecting a lot for you in the near future.” “Thank you, ma’am.”, you bowed your head and walked over to the changing room. Before leaving you grabbed the last pile of papers, which had the story written on it. It felt unbelieveable that Bakugo Katsuki had written his own short story, let alone composed music for it.

When you got out you were just about to call Shoto to tell you about it, but then you saw Bakugo standing by the entrance. “I’ll give you this, Bakugo.”, you said as you walked up to him, “You’re pretty good at piano.” “Pretty good?”, he scoffed, “You sure are cocky, aren’t you princess?” “What’s with the nickname?”, you folded your arms over your chest. “Prancing around like that in the studio, I might as well call you a princess.”, he chuckled, “Or do you prefer idiot?” “I’d like to see you ‘prance around’ like I did.”, you huffed. “I didn’t say you were bad.”, he looked away from you, “Whatever, I’m leaving. I’m counting on you to get the lead, princess.” He started walking away.

Now it’s your turn to choose: follow Bakugo or call Shoto? Click here to choose

113 notes · View notes

asterkiss · 3 years

Text

Claimed Pt IX, X and XI

Summary: An attempt to make a deal with a certain demon doesn’t go as Mabel planned. “Sorry kid but regardless of the pitch you’re selling me, your soul’s already claimed.“ Wait, what?

Read from beginning here. Also being compiled on AO3 here.

Really trying to finish this off so have multiple parts.

- CLAIMED Pt. IX

Seducing a fairy king wasn’t as easy as it may appear on paper.

Mabel may be a renown flirt queen when it came to guys in her own dimension, but the Erlking wasn’t exactly on the same standing as the cute boys in hoodies and sweatpants. His beauty was an unnatural scale where the very air around his seemed to bend to his will so as not to put a single hair out of place.

Mabel had the feeling he wouldn’t simply bow down to her from a stupid pick-up line as was her normal routine. (No matter how good the pick-up line may be).

It was everything she could do in her power to not be seduced by his inhumane charm and beauty, how on earth was she meant to turn it the other way around so she could rob him?

That said, the Erlking often invited her out on short “dates” where it was just the two of them alone.

Each time he would ask:

‘Will you break your deal with that demon?’

And each time she would reply:

‘No.’

She could tell it frustrated him even if he tried to hide it beneath his handsome features.

‘You are a stubborn one, Schatz,’ he sighed, turning to peer out across the lake with emerald eyes.

‘You don’t know the half of it.’

He had invited her out that morning for a walk, and Mabel had taken the opportunity of requesting it be by the lake so she could scope her so called “exit” out, at least according to Bill. It was large with pristine clear water and an abundance of colourful, glowing plants beneath its surface. And apparently at its centre deep beneath the surface lay a gate in waiting.

Mabel would get to it no matter what.

She just needed to get this guy away from his staff for five minutes but no dice, he acted like the thing was attached to him.

‘So, what exactly was the deal I made with you?’ Mable asked, peering up at him as she tried to consider the best way to steal from this guy.

‘You and I promised ourselves to one another.’

If Mabel had been drinking she would have promptly spat it out at this moment. ‘R-Really? Wow, I, uh… I would have thought I’d remember that!’

He gave a small chuckle as he turned towards her, raising a hand to push a stray lock of hair behind her ear. ‘You were young, but a promise is a promise.’

Mabel could feel her cheeks becoming somewhat flushed at the intimate gesture. She’d agreed to marry a guy when she was a kid? That… definitely sounded like something she would do. Hell, she’d probably made similar promises with whatever cute boys agreed to it. She just never expected one to actually come and see it through let alone for him to be a fairy.

The hand on her ear traced a path line down her jawline and she shivered at his icy touch. No, bad Mable, stay focused. ‘So, you’re saying we’re like, engaged?’

‘Indeed.’

Oh God. She swallowed thickly, heartbeat pounding in her ears. ‘A-And my deal with Bill is stopping that?’

The king’s expression darkened at the mention of the demon. ‘My dear, you are beautiful.’

‘Oh, ah, thank you.’ Random change in topic but she was flattered none the less.

‘The promise we swore upon one another was important enough to be ingrained within your delicate soul. It was proof to others that you were not to be touched. And yet…’ His face twisted, beautiful features transforming into something unpleasant. ‘To allow a demon to stake claim on your soul is to allow him to mar your very innocence. I cannot carry out my promise and welcome you into my kingdom when your soul is blemished by his very touch. To allow entry of such an ugly and vile mistake would stain my very ruling upon mu kingdom.’

Mabel wasn’t sure what to say, she could only stare in surprise as he spat his words out venomously. He seemed like an entirely different person.

Noticing her expression, the fae quickly amended his face and smiled serenely at her. ‘I do not blame you of course, he is the one filled with deceit and manipulation. However, as I have said, he will happily agree to you rescinding the deal.’

‘Which would mean… we’d be able to get married?’

‘Indeed.’

‘And I could never go back to my family.’

‘You cannot leave this realm, no.’ He grinned. ‘But do not worry, we will become your new family. You will breed several beautiful offspring for us―’

She blanched.

‘―and our lineage will be strong and capable.’

‘O-Oh yeah?’ Mabel faltered over her words in surprise. Wow, this guy was already talking about kids? Talk about forward. Also, the way he said “us” was slightly unnerving. He meant that as in the two of them, not like him plus other fae here? Right?

She found herself unable to voice that question, somewhat terrified of the answer it might procure. Instead, she asked: ‘Why me?’

He took a step forward, leaning over her with a piercing gaze as he cupped her face in his cool hands. Despite the uneasy feeling in her stomach heat still rose to her cheeks.

‘I chose you for it was you who rescued me from peril many years ago.’

She stared in wonder, lips parting. She had?

‘You are my saviour, my Schatz.’

- CLAIMED Pt. X

‘Oh yeah, the fae sometimes snatch up creatures from other dimensions to breed with. I don’t know the details but something to do about strengthening their progeny and race.’

Mable peered out across the tree-tops from her window for a moment, watching the sun setting in a splash of colour. Eventually, she turned her attention to Bill currently laid across her bed looking like he owned it, arms folded beneath his head.

‘I guess humans have something they want to add to the fae mix.’

‘What would they want from me? Or, I mean, humans?’ It wasn’t like humans had special powers or anything fancy like that.

Bill shrugged. ‘Beats me. They bred with a Eldanechk ten thousand years ago which gave them the ability to see in the dark but also made them vulnerable to iron.’

She frowned. So any human would have satisfied the fae, she just so happened to be picked because she apparently saved the Erlking? With a sigh she pushed herself away from the window and approached the bed, taking a seat on the edge. It was odd to be sitting so closely with the demon in such a casual manner but her mind was more attuned to other dangers outside of this bedroom right now.

‘I really wish I could remember meeting the king when I was younger but I just don’t.’ She’d tried and tired to no avail.

‘Probably because he didn’t look like that.’

She perked up at that. ‘What do you mean?’

Bill pushed himself into a sitting position, meeting her gaze. ‘Most fae folk can’t exist in their true form when they travel to another dimension, certainly not for long anyways.

Most creatures have limitations when visiting worlds they’re not native to.’

‘You mean like how you’re unable to use your powers here?’

The demon’s expression soured at that. ‘Yeah.’ A pause. ‘But hey, I can use my powers in most dimensions! It ain’t my fault that like eight of them can’t handle me at my full strength!’

Mable snorted as he tried to defend himself which only made his scowl harden. As she stood up to walk away he yelled after her, even going so far as to grab her hairbrush. He was mid-way in the process of throwing it before his shock collar activated.

‘Gyckh-! S-Stupid fairies!’

- CLAIMED Pt. XI

Mable wasn’t entirely sure how but one day she somehow found herself taking a walk with none other than Bill Cipher for company.

The demon had been getting a bad case of cabin fever after being holed up in their accommodation but unfortunately wasn’t permitted to leave without “supervision”. Every time he tried to leave the place he got shocked.

It turned out however that because he was her “pet” the fae would allow him outside if he was tagging along with her.

There was just one condition.

‘Hey, stop pulling,’ Mabel scolded, yanking on the lead. Bill let out a short choke as he was tugged back, stumbling a step before he turned to glare at her.

If looks could kill.

But hey, it wasn’t Mabel who had attached a leash to his shock collar! (Though, admittedly, she was enjoying the whole situation).

‘When I get my powers back I will end you.’

‘If you get them back, you mean.’

He released a cruel laugh as they continued walking along. ‘I will! You’ll be swayed by that fae’s looks one of these days. Everyone knows you’re not the smart twin.’

Her lips turned at that remark and she gave the leash another yank.

‘I had enough brain to outsmart you,’ she retorted.

He didn’t have a witty comeback to that.

The pair continued walking through the woodlands that made up the fae kingdom and surrounded its small city. They had been advised that a perimeter surrounding the area was enforced by a magical barrier and therefore escape was impossible. It was the only reason they had been allowed to scamper off unsupervised by anybody else, the fae were that confident they had them trapped.

Even so, Bill wished to go check it out which was the reason for their outing this morning.

It was obvious when they did eventually come across it. Upon crossing a river, Mabel noticed that the air up ahead seemed to take on a shimmer and the air hummed with magic. The nearer they approached it, the warmer their surroundings seemed to get.

Bill stood up against the barrier and studied it with a sharp eye whilst she took it in with wonder.

She noticed a rabbit on the other side of the barrier and watched it curiously. It came up towards the barrier before abruptly turning and going in the other direction.

Huh.

Mable looked around and picked up a broken branch, after a moment of consideration she threw it.

It sailed past the barrier without incident.

Bill watched her actions with curiosity before turning to search for something on the ground. A moment later, he also picked something up.

‘What is that?’

‘A beetle. Want to taste it?’

Mable made a face. ‘Ew, no, that’s gross.’

Bill shrugged. ‘Your loss then.’ He threw the bug at the barrier.

There was a shock of electricity when it made contact, and both Mable and Bill jumped at the eruption of sizzling that permeated the air.

When all done and gone, there sat a fried and crispy bug on the floor.

‘...Huh. So my theory was correct, it doesn’t let things through that are alive.’

Mable gave him a pointed look. ‘Did you really have to fry a beetle alive to confirm that?’

‘Would you rather I use you as a test subject instead?’ he asked, arching an eyebrow.

Before she could respond, a pair of distant voices reached their ears. But they were getting closer.

Two humanoid shapes came into view in the distance, and before Mable could do anything Bill yanked her aside and pulled the both of them out of sight behind a tree. The demon slapped his hand over her mouth and she would have protested had the voices not come into focus.

‘...wonder how much longer we have to wait.’

They peered around through the thick foliage to see two fae dressed in clothing that gave a sentiel appearence.

Guards.

The shorter of the pair shrugged casually. ‘Not long. Have you seen how the human acts around our King? She’s one step away from giving in. I heard humans like to play hard to get when they’re courting, that’s all she’s doing.’

‘Hm. What about her pet though?’

‘The demon? I heard that once the human breaks off their deal, the King’s going to hand him over to the scientists for experiments.’

‘Hah! Serves him right for messing with one of our claims.’

Their laughter faded until they were completely gone, and Mabel and Bill were left alone.

Bill remained still, his hand covering her mouth. Unlike the Erlking’s cold touch, the demon actually felt warm. It was weird, when they’d made their deal his flames had felt like ice shooting through her veins but in this form he felt, well, human.

She didn’t like it.

‘Urgh! Did you just lick me!?’

Mabel took the opportunity of his surprise to jerk away from him, turning to meet his annoyed glare.

‘Are you okay?’

He faltered. ‘H-Huh?’

‘What those two fae were saying...’ She trailed off.

‘Those imbeciles? Like I’d be bothered by their idiocy! Have you forgotten who I am, Shooting Star? It won’t be so easy for drivel like them to get the best of me.’

For somebody who claimed to be such a good liar and manipulator he was doing a bad job right now of hiding his real emotions. Perhaps because he was in this body?

It made him appear even more human, to the point one could almost forget he was actually a demonic triangle hell-bent on destroying her family and world.

So she needed him to act like his usual self.

‘Wha- hey, did you just pinch me!? You little brat-!’

‘Jeez, will you give it a rest and just face the facts. Regardless of what you or those guys think, I’m not going to give in,’ she insisted, face set in firm determination. ‘And you have every reason to be on my side now. So let’s work together and escape this place, alright?’

Bill regarded her warily, they were enemies. But right now they had tougher fish to fry. Or they were both done for.

He clicked his tongue in defeat, obvious distaste covering his face. ‘...Fine. But once we’re out of here, I don’t owe you anything anymore, got it? That’s my condition.'

Her face fell at that. Mable thought back to her original reason for tricking Bill to begin with. Their whole original deal which had set this thing in motion.

She had to give that up?

Then again, what was the point in trying to fight for Grunkle Stan if the alternative was being stuck here unable to see him ever again anyways.

Her shoulders slumped in defeat and she eventually gave a small nod.

‘Got it.’

#claimed #mabill #mabel and bill actually decide to work together #and are getting slightly closer #also this thing is gonna be like 20 parts so half-way there #why is it everytime i try to do something short and small it goes way too long #(i know why. i like plot too much)#ff update

7 notes · View notes

keelywolfe · 4 years

Text

FIC: Beneath an Aurora Sky ch. 20

Summary: The South Pole Station is equipped for research and Edge has always made sure things run smoothly for the inhabitants. His charges are meant to follow his rules and regulations, and in turn, he makes sure they survive in the arctic temperatures. It takes plenty of hard work and determination and Edge, along with his crew, can handle both.

He wasn’t counting on one of the newest researchers. He wasn’t expecting Rus.

Tags: Spicyhoney, First Time, Arctic AU, Hurt/Comfort

~~*~~

Chapter One | Chapter Two | Chapter Three | Chapter Four

Chapter Five | Chapter Six | Chapter Seven | Chapter Eight

Chapter Nine | Chapter Ten | Chapter Eleven | Chapter Twelve

Chapter 13 | Chapter 14 | Chapter 15 | Chapter 16 | Chapter 17

Chapter 18 | Chapter 19

~~*~~

Read Chapter 20 on AO3

Read it here!

~~*~~

As Edge was walking towards the vehicle shed, he caught an acrid hint of cigarette smoke in the air. He followed it, not inside but around the back and sitting in the shadows of the halogen lights was Rus.

Edge could hardly disguise his approach, the crunch of his boots in the hard-packed snow would have carried in the still icy air long before he came around the corner. But Rus made no attempt to hide. He stayed where he was, a burning cigarette dangling from his gloved fingers as he gazed up at the aurora-filled sky.

He’d already been out here for some time while Edge and the others spoke with Toriel and Gaster. The cold would soon be seeping through his outdoor gear no matter how good it was, sinking its chill into Rus’s bones. Monsters felt the cold less than Humans did but they were by no means immune to it. They could be sickened, frostbitten, and some, like Alphys, tolerated it even less than Humans. As a skeleton, Rus’s endurance should match Edge and Red’s.

Then again, who knew the boundaries of a skeleton from an entirely other universe.

Edge sat down next to Rus, drawing up his knees to rest his arms on them. He looked up at the swirling aurora overhead, the blur of colors rippling together in tangled waves, a sky ocean born of solar particles colliding with the atmosphere.

“it’s so beautiful here.” Rus’s voice was almost too loud in the hush.

“Yes,” Edge agreed in a voice to match.

It was. His intention when they’d first arrived here was only to find a safe place for those in his care, Alphys and Undyne and his still-wounded brother, and later, for Bonnie. Somewhere they could be certain of their meals and shelter. Nothing more than a job to replace the one he lost with the guard and a feeble attempt at that.

He hadn’t expected to find beauty in the glacial whiteness, nor in the endless night sky. He never anticipated the satisfaction that came with seeing another group off, knowing he’d protected them and guided them through this dangerous beauty. He couldn’t have known how Undyne and Alphys would blossom here, both their love for each other and their lives, settling into their place. Or that Red would slowly find his own footing and perhaps he’d never adore the Humans that came here, but he had his own pride in his work, kept all the equipment in top form and helped Alphys in her designs for new additions for the station. And Bonnie, who’d come to them later and never discussed her own inner wounds, yet still seemed to be healing from them. Together they’d created a place of safety for them, a home.

Even after all that, he never could have braced himself for Rus. Who’d settle into their home like he belonged here, their missing puzzle piece. Only it seemed as if he’d come not from their picture, but an entirely different box.

“he told you, didn’t he.” It was impossible to tell if the fog of Rus’s breath was from the cold or the cigarette.

Edge said nothing. His promise to Toriel specified he couldn’t reveal what they’d spoken about. It did not preclude discussing it at all and he only waited as Rus chuckled bitterly, filling in the silence on his own.

“it’s funny,” Rus drawled, flicking ash into the snow, “i came all the way to the end of the world to escape my past and it still came after me.”

Edge thought of Toriel, currently cramped into one of the spare rooms and probably trying not to scrape her horns against the ceiling. “I know the feeling.”

“yeah, i know,” Rus said, grimacing, “i’m sorry. part of the deal of tori sponsoring me was i’d keep mum about back home. i promised.”

“I understand.”

“yeah, well, if i’d known they were gonna pop in unexpectedly, i would’ve warned you about that much, anyway.” Rus’s expression crumpled slightly, going brittle around the edges. “look, i love tori, she’s been nothing but good to me. moms her way into everything. but you guys got your reasons to not want her around, i get that.”

“Rus,” the cloud of his own breath briefly obscured his vision as Edge sighed, “even if they are here because of you, that doesn’t make it your fault.”

“doesn’t it? think what pissed me off most is i know dings is right,” Rus murmured. “he’s can be a little rough saying it, but he means well.”

The resignation in Rus’s voice made Edge bristle, “He accused you of being nothing more than a key made for a particular lock.”

“truth hurts.” It was startling to realize how he’d categorized Rus’s smiles in his own head, the bright, fake one and the softer, shyer truthful one that came with a measure of trust. This one was entirely new, tainted with deep bitterness, “bet big brother didn’t fill in the details, so let me give you the highlights of our family tree.”

“see, our pop was the royal scientist in our world, the real deal. i call him pop, but that’s mostly because it annoyed him. he wasn’t really our father, he was a dna donor. he didn’t even name us, we named ourselves.” Rus was sitting right next to Edge here in the deep cold and still seemed miles away, no, not miles, he was in another world entirely. “dings took his name. not like he really knew there were many options past that or just getting called number one. just as well, i guess, looks more like him than me or blue. dings named blue and they both named me.”

He slanted a glance at Edge, his bright eye lights dimmed behind his goggles. “dings was still really young when blue popped out, what did he know about names? baby bro’s magic was blue, so that’s what he went with. i came a few more years down the line and by then, they’d raided the librarby and found out that papyrus is a traditional skeleton monster name.” He chuckled then, some of the bitterness of his smile invading the sound. “like anything about us was traditional.”

“we were his own personal test tube babies, homegrown like fucking cabbages, and gaster made us to fulfill a specific role. see, the core was important work, sure, but what he was really trying to do was make a machine that could get us past the shield. turns out, third time is the charm for our old man. he made dings and blue first but neither of them could use void magic. i was his hail mary, his last shot, and whaddaya know, it worked.” Rus scowled, tamped out his burning butt into the snow. He dropped it into his little tin and lit another, inhaling deeply and breathing out a cloud of smoke. “he never let me forget what i was for, but dings and blue always tried to be the best brothers they could. after pops kacked, it wasn’t until dings got that machine working that it even came up again.” He shrugged, barely visible through the layers of his heavy coat. “i got to forget for a while, at least.”

Edge said nothing, what could he say? His childhood was hardly one ease and joy; it more resembled the fairy tales that Red sometimes read to him when he still the shorter of the two, listening with wide sockets to gruesome tales that seemed all too possible. It seemed Rus had his own experiences with a sort of wicked stepfather and it was every bit as terrible as those stories. The urge to pull him close, to keep him safe, was itching in Edge and he forcibly held it back, let Rus tell his story.

“i never expected the machine to actually work,” Rus admitted. “dings was messing with it for so long. then we were here. my bro was only supposed to talk to the royal scientist and we were gonna hightail it back. easy peasy lemon squeezy.” Rus chuckled darkly, “turned out the lemonade was too sour after all. dings was pretty upset to find out the guy he was looking for was gone and so was his successor.”

Rus’s smile eased into something warmer, familiar, “it was tori who got me to start studying, you know. my bros always kept me on a tight leash back home, it was dangerous to even go outside, but here? i went out, tried to make some friends, ended up sleeping around some. wasted time,” Rus admitted, “tori suggested i work on my degree. i didn’t see the point at first, our pop always told us our purpose. i was there to power the machine. but, tori has this thing about being everyone’s mom.”

“Indeed, she does,” Edge murmured, recalling his days imprisoned after the coup, with good meals and care instead of execution.

“i think maybe that’s why she’s such a good queen. she told me pops was wrong,” Rus laughed a little in a puff of smokey breath and shook his head. “told me he was an asshole, actually, and that i deserved to have what i wanted out of life.”

“we argued about it, me and dings. drove blue nuts. blue was…he was the failure, pops said. at least dings was a scientist, but blue couldn’t even manage that. dings always told him his purpose was to be our caretaker and he tried damn hard at it.” Rus sighed, dropping his head back against the shed siding with a muffled thunk, “he hates it when we fight.”

“But you did it,” Edge said softly, “you got your degree, you’re working on your PhD and you’re doing a good job of it, at that.” Even through the growing cold he felt an inner warmth at the smile Rus flashed him, the real one.

“i did. i got so close.” Rus’s voice broke slightly, “things were horrible when we left, i can’t even imagine how they are now. and dings, he needs to fix the core. that was the skill that was built into him.” His smile soured back into bitterness, “it’s a compulsion, i don’t think he can help it. he has to be better than our pop. he has to be the one to save us all. blue believes everyone is worth saving, but he’s a protector, and me? i’m just a battery. i was never meant to have any of this.”

A honey-tinted tear slipped out from beneath his goggles and wound its way down, slowly freezing against the chilled bone of Rus’s skull and Edge’s control broke. He crawled across the short distance between them, scuffled through the snow and pulled Rus into his arms. He held on briefly, achingly tight before drawing back far enough to shake him, a little, and Rus looked at him with wide, startled eye lights.

“You are more than simply your father’s intentions,” Edge told him fiercely. “You’re brilliant and kind, and…and funny…wonderful…” He choked, unable to express the wild emotions burning in his soul; if there were words for it, Edge did not know them. Love was too shallow a word, too small, it couldn’t possibly hold everything Edge was feeling, all of it strangled in grief.

Rus reached up and his gloved fingers were gentle against Edge’s cheekbone. “it’s okay,” he said, softly, “i always knew we’d have to go back. i got to see this. i got to be with you. it’s okay,” he said again, crooned it, as if Edge were the one in pain. Perhaps he was, his soul ached as fiercely as if it was threatening to crack. “i saw so much here on the surface. i got to see the stars, i got to come here and see this.” He looked up at the sky, at the brilliant colors still churning within it along with a million twinkling lights looking down on them. “i was never going to get to stay, but i got to see this.”

“It’s not enough,” Edge said hoarsely. Not enough, Rus was supposed to leave here and go back into the sun, and instead, he was going where Edge could never follow, couldn’t protect him, and again, Edge would have given a portion of his own grieving soul not to see that sadness infecting Rus’s smile.

“i love you, you know,” Rus told him, achingly soft. “i know it’s not fair to tell you now, but i can’t keep it to myself. i need you to know it.”

Edge closed his sockets, shutting out Rus’s face and the aurora, saw only blackness and it wasn’t the cold that sent a tremor through him. Then he opened them again, looked into Rus’s face and saw the truth of it, the yearning. And the hopelessness. The need to say it back burned, words already forming on his tongue, but instead Edge blurted, “Stay the two weeks.”

Rus blinked, startled. That was clearly not the reaction he expected to his quiet confession, “but, the people—"

“It’s been two years,” Edge countered, “two weeks means nothing to your world and everything to you. Don’t let your brother’s compulsion drive you. Toriel—"

He almost said she was on his side, couldn’t, his knowledge was gleaned from their talk and words already thickening in his throat, his promise threatening to choke him when Rus kissed him softly, stopping him.

“i can guess about tori,” Rus said quietly, then, softer, “two more weeks.” He looked up again and even behind his goggles, the auroras couldn’t match the soft beauty of his eye lights. “there’s no stars back home. i’m gonna miss them.”

He fell silent, leaning against Edge’s side. Edge wrapped an arm around him and pulled Rus in closer, holding him tightly through the layers of his coat. He was starting to shiver; they were both getting too cold and he was about to suggest they move into the vehicle shed at the very least when Rus spoke again.

“it got so bad towards the end,” Rus whispered, “we stayed holed up in the lab, mostly, but we could see what was happening. monsters were getting more violent, losing control, gaining lv. pops’ diagrams on the core were incomplete. it was dings’s idea to come to another world and check theirs. i had to come, of course and we couldn’t leave Blue alone, so we all came.”

Rus kicked one booted foot idly, scraping up snow with his heel. “s’weird. even the snow is different here. back home it seems…stale somehow. used. maybe it’ll be better when dings gets the core up and running.” Rus sighed. “i never would have come to the station if i’d thought he was close to a breakthrough. it’s weird, i thought i had enough time.” Rus drew back a little, looking at Edge with that soft smile back in place. “but it sure wasn’t a waste.”

Almost, Edge kissed him again, hesitated with their mouths a breath away. Something about what Rus said niggled, something… “Weird.”

“heh,” Rus chuckled, “it’s double weird hearing you say weird. doesn’t seem like your kind of slang, bossman.”

Edge barely heard him. His brother had a breakthrough on the core, Rus said, an unexpected breakthrough. Edge cursed himself, replaying what Rus told him. He'd been foolishly focused on the information about Rus and why they were here, not on what changed to bring them to the station.

"What was your brother studying, exactly?” Edge demanded. He took Rus’s shoulders in both gloved hands, holding him, “You said he was looking for information about the Core."

Rus blinked uncertainly, his browbone furrowing, “um, papers, mostly. tori has lots of stuff from the old royal scientist, dings was wading through tons of it. i didn’t see much, he didn’t want any help. he was afraid we’d miss something. guess he found what he was looking for.”

“Yes, I think he did,” Edge said sourly, “A patsy.” Edge climbed to his feet and held out a hand to help Rus, “I’d like to know what was in those notes your brother found and I think we should ask the former royal scientist.”

“what?” Rus wobbled for a second, catching his balance after sitting for so long, “seriously? you think they’d talk to you? tori said they don’t—

“I should hope so,” Edge said, dryly, “she’s in her lab.” And very likely watching them on her cameras.

Rus went still, croaking out, “alphys??”

“You didn’t know?” Edge slanted Rus a look, but he believed him.

“no!” Rus spluttered, already heading back towards the station, Edge trailing after him. “tori didn’t talk about it, i didn’t even think to ask anyone else, why would i?”

“Maybe your brother isn’t as discriminating,” Edge said, under his breath, letting the wind tear the words away. It was more than a little suspicious that his brother solved the issue of core technology when Rus was in the only place that possessed a replica of the original. Edge didn’t believe in coincidence.

“Rus,” Edge jogged to catch up, taking hold of Rus’s elbow to stop him as he asked, “Do you trust me?”

“yes,” Rus said, unhesitatingly.

“I trust you, too,” Edge said, softly, and leaned in to give him a brief, chilly kiss. “Come on. You’re freezing and I have questions.”

“you’re the boss,” Rus said. It was only a shadow of his normally teasing self, but it was something. He took Rus’s gloved hand in his own and together, they made their way to the main building.

tbc

#spicyhoney #papcest #keelywolfe #underfell #underswap #underfell papyrus #underswap papyrus #arctic au

51 notes · View notes

emo-does-things · 4 years

Text

Sleeping in Sunshine

So this is my Christmas gift to the ever fantastic @ace--writes and boy has it been an ordeal to write this. I started out thinking it would be 2000, maybe a bit more, words, and now here it is at... more than 10000, so... yeah, fair warning it’s long.

other things to note, this may be a fae au and set sometime in the past but i’m playing fast and lose with the rules of both of those... so...

and also, while I am not cis, i am not specifically a trans man so if anyone that is finds something insensitive or disrespectful please let me know and I will try and find a way to fix it! anygay~

Fandom: Thomas sanders

Relationships: Remile

Warnings: Emile’s parents are Not Great, an arranged marriage, cursing, trans male character, misgendering, anxious thoughts, please let me know if i missed something

Read it on AO3: here

Words: 12,061 it is longggg (for me)

The four times Remy asked for Emile’s name and the one time he gave it

Emily Picani was a smart girl. She knew how to read (after her parents had realised that she was basically blind and really did need glasses), and she knew a lot about people, and she knew not to go into the forest alone.

However, while Emily was generally a smart girl, she did not always make smart decisions.

She’d been told dozens of times by her parents, neighbours, and most especially her grandmother that she shouldn’t go into the forest. She knew they were afraid of it. She knew all of the stories- she’d read dozens of books telling sometimes delightful and sometimes gruesome tales, and she knew very well all the reasons why she shouldn’t.

That didn’t mean that she didn’t.

You see, the forest fascinated Emily, and so did the concept of The Others that lived there. Not that she would ever admit that anyone out loud.

Yes, her family’s little farm was all very interesting, but she didn’t much like the sorts of things her mother had her do or the sort that her father wouldn’t let her. So instead, she did exactly what she shouldn’t, and spent far too much time exploring the trees and hollows and hidden paths in the forest.

Oh, sure, she filled her pockets with iron filings and holly berries, to be safe, and copied the little rituals her grandmother practised for protection, but one is never truly safe with these kinds of creatures, only left alive for the moment.

But Emily had complete confidence in herself, in the way that only children could. She had explored the area of the forest nearest to her house inside and out over her childhood, and really, never found anything that mysterious, or dangerous, or in any way indicative of the strange creatures she’d been warned so much about, and secretly wanted to learn more of.

That was, until one day, when Emily suddenly wished she hadn’t been quite so bold.

She had been playing, enjoying a story of her own devising, where she was a great wizard with power over the elements. Her story called her to find sacred objects to return power to the land, (which in reality were different, particularly pretty looking rocks) and it also pulled her deeper into the forest than she had ever wandered before.

She was just mumbling to herself the dramatic, musical climax of her story, with various dums, dees and das, as she jumped around, when she noticed that something was wrong.

Suddenly, the area around her felt colder, despite the warmth of spring that had surrounded her just prior.

She froze in place, watching her breath puff out into the chilled air in front of her. She saw the briars, with thorns that looked as if they were coated in sharp, deadly metal, and the trees that seemed that much taller, now towering over her even more, and she heard the eerie silence that had overtaken the bird and bug song.

“This is fine,” she said, quietly but cheerfully to herself, forcing a smile onto her face, as she tried to decide what to do. Her hands found their way into her pockets, grasping at the iron filings

She heard a branch snap behind her, and she spun, a scream on her lips, not considering how much more sense it would make to remain quiet.

She expected to see a monster standing there- a beast with a large gaping maw, come to gobble her up, or one of the strange, ethereal moonlit beings of her fairy tales.

Instead, she saw a boy, about her age, although much stranger, grinning at her

“You know,” said the boy with a smile filled with too sharp teeth, “It’s kinda rude to lie in company that can’t.”

Emily felt her jaw drop and her body freeze up once more. This boy looked nothing like the tales she read. He had no skin woven of moonlight or eyes hewn of gems and blessed with stars. In fact, he looked rather like a normal person, but just slightly to the left enough to be unsettling. His limbs were just slightly too long, and his teeth just slightly too sharp, his ears were pointed, and twitching, and his curly red hair looked like it had strings of gold and amber woven through it. Had he not addressed her so, and had they met anywhere else, she may have thought him human.

“Staring is also considered rude in most places, but I’ll let you off with that one, considering I am particularly cute,” the boy spoke again.

Yes, his teeth definitely were far too sharp to be human.

“Um, Hello?” Emily said, finding the voice that had until then died in her throat, and trying her best approximation of a curtsey, the way she had seen her mother do it. (She only managed to trip over her feet and settled for a bow instead).

The boy’s smile, somehow, widened further, and he stuck out a hand for her to shake- his left hand, actually, which he didn’t seem to see a problem with. She shook it as quickly as she could, and then returned her own hands to her pockets, playing with the iron filings.

“May I have your name,” the boy asked, and he looked like he was trying to remember something he had to recite.

“You can call me Em,” she said after some deliberation.

He looked slightly disappointed, and Emily knew it was because she had seen around his trick, although, he brightened momentarily.

“Oh well,” he said with a grin and a shrug, “It was worth a shot. I didn’t really want to trick you anyway.”

Emily didn’t know how to respond to that, blinking owlishly at his sudden change of mood. This boy was very strange, she thought, and not at all easy to understand like most of the people she knew.

“What shall I call you?” she asked eventually, when she realised that he seemed to be waiting on her.

“Oh, huh, I hadn’t thought of that. You’re very clever,” he said looking truly taken aback. He paused a moment, sticking his tongue out through his teeth as he thought, “You can call me Sleep, I guess.”

“Sleep it is,” she murmured, wondering silently why he would choose something like that. She really shouldn’t wonder so much; she might start asking questions. And she figured, that by now that might not be a smart decision.

But then again, Emily Picani wasn’t known for smart decisions.

Although, it seemed she wasn’t the only one with questions.

“So, Em, what are you doing out here? The forest really isn’t safe for little girls, you know,” he said, fake-serious. He really should have been real-serious.

“What about little boys?” she shot back defiantly, delighted when this caused him to grin rather than glare.

“Well, little boys shouldn’t be out all alone either. Good thing we found each other, huh?” he said waltzing forward and grabbing onto her arm. He was surprisingly strong for someone who looked so gangly.

He was so strange.

“You’re not human, are you?” she found the question past her lips before she had even thought it over.

He laughed at her, bright and clear, “Oh you are clever. I like you. No, I’m not human, but why does that matter? I have a bright and charming personality regardless, which is what should matter.”

She was surprised that he would admit it so honestly, but then again, she had a feeling that perhaps Sleep wasn’t particularly normal by human standards, or his own people’s for that matter.

“I’m sure you light up some people’s world,” she said, the pun coming to her naturally, but surprising her with the ease that she spoke to him. The way that he laughed and smiled back only encouraged her.

“Oh, I do, I do like you little Em,” he crowed, “I think I should keep you around… It would be nice to have someone to play with.”

She frowned a little at that. She didn’t have any intention of becoming a plaything for the good neighbours. She had enough sense at least to try and avoid that at least.

“Well, I wouldn’t mind playing with you, Sleep, but you would have to let me go home, if you wanted me to come back and not simply pass out from exhaustion,” she said, trying to avoid any firm promises and also trying to sound smart, one thing she had learned from her grandmother, and one she was trying to convince herself of.

He looked for a moment like he was considering something very important.

“Well, I know that you come to the forest every day to play. If you agree to play with me whenever you come here, then I will let you go and do whatever it is you humans do for the rest of the time, no harm done.”

She looked him carefully up and down, trying to find any hint of malice in his face, or any twisted meaning to his words. Seeing none, she decided, as children very often do, to disregard most of her earlier concerns in favour of a new playmate.

“It’s a deal,” she said, grinning, forgetting one fundamental rule in that moment.

And she would not remember this mistake for some time, if at all, in favour of playing with Sleep.

Because, with him around, the woods, even the darker, sharper and more dangerous sections didn’t seem as scary. He had a way of putting the situation at ease. He lifted up the briars with a stick longer than he was tall, grinning and making a show of wounding himself, even as not one thorn scratched him.

He dragged Em the long way around a stream because he swore up and down there was ‘something in there out to get him’ that she ‘probably didn’t want to see if she didn’t want super super weird nightmares’.

Quickly, Em discovered he was quite the drama queen, and more than a bit of a scatterbrain, although that only made her laugh all the more when he fell out of a tree and complained that he ‘would never ever ever in all his life come back here,’ because he was ‘not going to put up with such dishonest and bullying behaviour’ from the tree.

At the same time that he was completely unlike any human she had ever met; he was also very much like every human child she knew. He was strange, but she couldn’t find it in herself to mind. Instead she was intrigued, filled with as many questions as she was ideas for games to play.

What felt like hours later, when the sun began to set, Sleep even helped Em to find her way home. It took a little convincing first, because he still wanted to play not even feeling a little tired, but at Emily’s insistence, he guided her through various paths from the darker, mysterious part of the forest, into the part where trees were just a little bit too big instead of dangerously so.

When they reached the edge, he stopped, not passing the line of trees.

“You’ll come back tomorrow?” he asked, eyes pleading.

She nodded, unable to stop herself from smiling.

“Then I’ll meet you here,” he said patting the tree he leaned against. “I’ll find you. I don’t want you to get lost in the woods and have one of my family find you instead. They care a lot more about those traditions and weird adult word games than I do, and I don’t want you to get hurt. So, it wouldn’t be a good idea for you to wander around on your own.”

Quietly, Emily thought that it hadn’t been a good idea for her to go out in the first place, or to meet Sleep again either, but she just nodded, and smiled, and ran towards her house ahead of her, in the setting sun, throwing a wave over her shoulder.

That night she was uncharacteristically quiet at the dinner table, not recounting the many adventures of her day and instead focusing on her meal far too intensely. Her parents barely noticed, too busy corralling her five other siblings. And she herself was too absorbed in thought to see the look her grandmother gave her over the tops of her glasses.

That night when all was quiet save for the shuffling of her sisters in the beds near hers, she thought she heard a whisper, from somewhere far away brushing against her ear.

“Sweet dreams,” it said, “Sleep well.”

Emily Picani was a smart girl. She learned how to knit and sew far faster than her sisters, she could easily tell a liar from someone telling the truth and she knew that fae were dangerous.

Emily was not, however, known for putting her wisdom into practice.

If you visited the fae once or twice and still remained completely aware and not charmed or, more likely, dead, then perhaps you could be excused. But Emily didn’t just visit once or twice.

She found herself in the forest almost every day for three years.

She would finish her chores and her mother’s lessons as quickly as she could, (which was much faster than you would think, because Emily was a smart girl) and then she would run off to the woods before her parents could find something else for her to do.

They barely noticed she was missing, really- or rather, they noticed she wasn’t around but were grateful for the reprieve from her loud and boisterous manner and incessant questions and weren’t particularly worried that she would get hurt.

So, she was free to disappear and play with a friend that no one, especially not her grandmother would approve of.

This day was no different from any other. She had finished mending the boy’s clothes and cleaning the house and setting out things for dinner, before she bolted from the house, ignoring any calls her grandmother threw after her.

She got to their tree, as usual, earlier than Sleep, and rummaged around inside the hollow that had become her hidey hole for anything important. And, most important and relevant in that moment was the pair of pants she kept there.

Her mother and sisters liked to insist that ‘she was a young lady that should dress like one’ and while she rather liked the pretty colours and stitching that complicated ladies skirts sometimes had, she did not like the fact they were… well… skirts, so she had stolen a pair of her brothers too small-pants, and had made much better use of them than he did, if she did say so herself.

She changed, and then slumped down by the tree, staring up at the pretty jade green leaves and daydreaming about nothing in particular, when she heard a thud and saw Sleep land, and stumble a little, in front of her, after jumping from one of the branches above.

Immediately she jumped to her feet, giving him a large hug.

“It took you long enough!” she exclaimed, grinning.

“Hello to you too, sunshine,” Sleep said with a laugh, “I’m sorry I was late, there were some… issues.”

His smile was too sharp and brittle to be real.

She looked at him, concerned, and frowned.

“With your family or The Others?” she asked, poking and prodding him, trying to check for injuries.

“It was fi-“ he cut off and frowned.

“Ok, maybe not but like, you totally shouldn’t worry about it,” He amended.

“Well, it’s clearly not fine if you can’t say it.”

“It is no longer a problem.”

She chewed her lip worriedly. It was always concerning to hear about drama with the good neighbours. Of course, she knew that it was perfectly normal with them, but she didn’t want Sleep to be hurt.

“Well, let it be known that I am concerned, especially because you can’t even say that it’s ok out loud, mister”

“You’re like, overreacting and stuff,” he sighed, running a hand through his hair.

“Well, don’t go getting into trouble again, then.”

He smiled a little, “I don’t think either of us could stop me if we tried, Em.”

“You know- you know what that’s probably fair.”

“Yes, exactly. Now!” he said, suddenly clapping his hands together, “I have an idea.”

“And what would that be, Sleep?”

“Well, it’s like, our third anniversary of meeting each other, did you know that?” he said grinning, “And I heard that you humans get gifts for each other on anniversaries or whatever, so I thought hey, maybe we could do that.”

“Well first off, that’s for people that are romantically involved, which we aren’t so jot that down, and second off, even if we did get gifts, that’s today and I don’t have anything for you,” Em said, frowning.

“You could always give me your name,” Sleep said, mischievously.

“I- oh so that’s what this was about you cheeky little- urgh! No, I’m not giving you my name!”

“But Emmmmmmm,” he said with fake puppy dog eyes that immediately told Emily he was kidding and found the whole situation hilarious, “Aren’t we friends?”

Her grandmothers warning danced through her head, as they did every time Sleep pulled one of his silly tricks, but she found herself listening to every one of them less and less. Especially, ‘You cannot be friends with the fae’.

“Of course we’re friends, silly, but I’m not going to give you my name any more than you would give me yours.”

“What if I did give you mine,” Sleep said, grinning wildly.

“Then I would probably have to eat my rock collection… Well, maybe not quite so extreme, rose quartz would not be a fun thing to try and eat, if you’re me- because yes Sleep I am aware that you eat various dumb things that I defiantly couldn’t”

“Oh, all right then. But, like, for real though I did have an idea for something that we could do, because, like, three years is a long time for you humans, isn’t it?”

“Well, I guess, but how long something is really is relitv-“

“Fantastic, that’s perf,” he says, grabbing Emily hand and pulling her through the woods.

“What exactly are you thinking?” Emily gasped between panting breaths and laughter.

“That we should totally,” Sleep said, picking her up to jump over a new fallen tree in one of the many familiar paths of the forest, “Build a tree house.”

He set her down not a moment later, in front of a huge, solid old oak tree, that would take several people with arms stretched right out to wrap their arms all the way around it.

It was not unique in a forest as old and full of magic as this one, but it was still pretty damn cool to look at.

Emily stared at it, stunned for a moment, then turned to Sleep.

“Is this in a part of the forest where you can like, change things easily?” she asked, “Because I don’t think I could manage to take very much from my parents, and I’d feel bad if I did, so I can’t really help much that way.”

“Nah, you’re fine Sunshine,” Sleep said, already climbing up the tree, and onto one of the huge branches, and beckoning Emily to follow, “You’re on ideas duty, considering you have all those fancy stories in your head.”

Emily clamoured up into the tree after him, already thinking a mile a minute. They sat together in the tree for ages, making countless plans and moving about, figuring out which branches would be good for what things.

When Emily went home that night, she was still buzzing with excitement, as sleep promised that for the next day he would have (somehow) found everything they could possibly need to make their tree fort.

And, as she had become used to over the past three years, that voice whispered into her ear, “Sweet dreams, Sunshine, and good night.”

And indeed, he did have the materials (mostly magical ones) the next day, and over the next several years, the treehouse became a safe haven for both of them. It was one of the only places deeper in the forest that Emily could get to reliably, with some exceptions, because they’d trodden the path solidly into the forest’s memory.

They upgraded it and added to it as their interests changed. They added back entrances, rope sings, blankets and cushions stolen from both homes and usually worn half to death. Sleep added glowing lights and pressed magical carvings into the wood getting more interesting and complex and strong as he learned about his magic (he was, after all, a child just like Em, even if a different kind). And Emily painted stories from her books of tales, (all now stacked in their hideaway, out there instead of in her room) and her grand imagination all across the walls, and they both often found they were more at home there than with their families.

It was a space that was truly theirs.

Emily might not have given Sleep her name, but some would say she’d shared something even more precious.

Em Picani was smart- able to read, write, tell stories and charm people within moments of meeting them, but also intimidate them with that intelligence.

Because being smart wasn’t something girls were really supposed to be.

Em was a lot of things girls weren’t supposed to be. She was outspoken, loud, brave, and loved the outdoors. She was secretive, charming- but not in a sweet or demur way- a little cunning and bold. She hated dresses, but loved bright colours, and would rather wear pants than skirts, she wanted to be able to write and create and be smart without being written off.

Em was a lot of things girls weren’t supposed to be, and especially smart… Smart enough to realise that he wasn’t a girl. Emily Picani was intelligent and sharp and witty and… Not Emily Picani, he decided, but Emile.

He knew, that even if tomorrow the world was turned on its head, and everything that he was girls were allowed to be, he still wouldn’t be one. He was a boy, and he’d finally come to terms with it.

Emile was a lot of things that boys were supposed to be, except for recognised as one.

Because, yes, Emile was a smart boy, but he lived in a world where no one else thought that.

Well, he hoped that after today, there would at least be one somebody.

Yeah, sure Emile knew he shouldn’t be going into the forest, his grandmother had drilled that into him since before he could walk. And sure, he knew better than to tell the fae secrets, at least in theory, but it had been years since he had kept anything from Sleep. He was his best friend, after all and he was often (if not always) more comfortable around him than the extended Picani family.

Sleep knew him better than he knew himself a lot of the time- and whether that was because he was fae or simply because they were friends, he would never be able to tell. But he trusted him. He trusted him to understand him when no one else would.

They’d done so much for each other. Emile had all but given up lying because it made Sleep uncomfortable, and he’d long since stopped carrying iron filings in his pockets. The only fae repellent weapons he kept were stored safely in a place that would not damage Sleep, but Emile could access if there was a squabble with another fae. Which had never happened yet, with Sleeps dutiful protection.

And Sleep, well Sleep had welcomed Emile with every single one of his quirks, his intelligence and interests. He’d found or made trousers and shirts that more suited Emile’s clothing sense, and made the tree house a safe haven for both of them. Even though he surely could have killed Emile in an instant if he tried, now, or tricked him into some other bond, he’d never tried.

Sleep wasn’t a child anymore, and neither was Emile, and yet against all odds their friendship persisted, even as Sleep’s power and Other nature grew, and Emile’s responsibilities pulled him away from the forest more and more often.

So yeah, Emile had little doubt that Sleep would accept him for what he had learned of himself, but that did not mean he wasn’t still hesitant to tell him.

The day he decided to commit to it, was a day just like any other for them- they met much later in the afternoon now, because Emile had to do the work of a proper ‘lady’ in the house, not just a child, which meant it was often not until into the afternoon that he could sneak away.

And it was indeed late afternoon that found him waiting as usual under their tree- not the house, but the one at the edge of the forest, where he’d wait sometimes if he didn’t trust the path.

“Hey babes, what’s up?” is the first thing he’s greeted to by Sleep, who appears as usual from nowhere. It was much harder to spot him in the late afternoons of autumn, with so much of him blending in. (Some of it was natural- his hair changing like the colours of the autumn leaves, shining and mesmerising, and some of it was the magic he pulled around himself to disappear and torment Emile).

Emile managed a slight grin, pushing himself from the tree and wiping his damp palms on the skirt he had no choice but to wear when coming from home.

He opened his mouth, ready to greet him, ready to tell him, ready even to say that he had something to tell him, but he found all the words died in his throat.

“I dunno. Just thinking about some stuff, I guess,” he said, and the lie felt like acid on his tongue. One would think he’d been cursed to tell the truth, rather than it being self-imposed.

“Uh-uh gurl that is an absolute indicator that we need to sit down and talk about stuff, don’t you try and pull that shit with me. If I say shit like that you jump straight to trying to solve my problems so now I’m gonna have to return the favour,” Sleep said, and linked their arms together, he didn’t seem to notice Emile’s flinch at the address.

He pulled Emile along the path, well warn between the tree line and their house. Em’s caution on that day was in fact proven justified, when they found part of it blocked off with the thorn bushes that looked made of metal and were still intimidating to this day. To Sleep, of course, they were nothing, banished with barely a wave of a hand, but Emile would have had far more trouble. And staying in one place that was not the tree house was decidedly dangerous in a forest like this.

There were no other issues however, and Emile found himself quickly ushered up the ladder of the tree house and pushed unceremoniously straight down onto one of the many pillows they had borrowed or otherwise relocated.

“So, babes, spill,” Sleep said, arms crossed.

“It’s not that much, really,” Emile found himself saying before he could help it. Lying really was second nature to humans, even the ones who schooled themselves so hard to be honest, it seemed.

Sleep scowled, clearly seeing the blatant lie. (Just because Emile could lie didn’t mean he was particularly good at it, you know).

Emile looked down at his skirts and then looked up at Sleep again.

“Do you know what? I’ll tell you, but you need to let me change first. I can’t stand to be in this a moment longer, and it is rather relevant,” he bargained, standing and moving towards one of the other small rooms they had created.

“Fine, but don’t think you can avoid this forever, sunshine!” Sleep sighed, slumping back against pillow and wall, absolutely undignified.

It always made Emile laugh a little when he did something like that. To the best of is knowledge, Sleep actually held some kind of importance in his court, and often had moments of that ethereal grace so often accredited to the fae, and yet there were plenty of other moments where he was simply all gangly limbs and ‘please believe I’m badass’ attitude.

He returned five minutes later, pants replacing skirt and hair tied back in a much more comfortable and personally acceptable manner.

“All right,” he said, sitting back down.

“Ok, gurl, what the Ef is up?” Sleep asked, staring him down.

Emile flinched again, just a little.

“Ok, yeah, uh here’s the thing. I’m not. ‘Gurl’ that is. I don’t consider myself to be a girl. I’m a boy,” he said, repeating himself, but not stumbling over the words.

Sleep looked at him blankly for a moment.

“So this is you like, asking me to use He and Him and seeing you as a boy, I’m guessing?” he asked and frowned at Emile’s hesitant nod, “Wait a minute, is this another one of those bullshit human things, do you guys not think people can be different genders? You seem like, far too nervous about this if that wasn’t the case.”

Emile felt something in him truly lighten in that moment. He hadn’t thought Sleep would completely reject him, but he hadn’t expected him to think it was so, well… normal.

“Yes, I would very much like you to do that… And, uh, no, not really…”

Sleep blinked at him owlishly for a moment, “Well, that’s stupid. But if humans don’t do that, then what made you realise if you don’t mind my asking?”

Emile shrugged a little sheepishly, “Well, I’d always felt something was a little bit off, you know. And, uh, it wasn’t all me really. Last week, when my family went into the village for the autumn celebration there was like, travelling performers there. And one of them- a sword swallower, he was a guy like me, and I had spoken to him briefly, obviously curious about his life, but then my parents pulled me away.”

He sighed a little, “They think that people like him- like me are sick, that they’ve been cursed or cursed themselves I guess.”

“Well, you know, this is just adding another tally to my ‘list of reasons why humans are dumb’ you know. If you say you’re a boy then you’re a boy, it’s not that difficult really. Like sure you guys can lie and stuff and that’s cool, but that’s just a total dick move. And we’re the ones with a reputation for being sadistic, honestly!” Sleep said dramatically, draping himself more horizontally across the pillows.

Emile laughed. It was just for a moment, but in that second he swore his heart would burst with love for his dramatic friend, he was so strange and funny, and the fact that he could say that with such confidence when he could not speak a lie, truly warmed Emile’s heart and calmed his fears. Emile loved Sleep and his ridiculous personality and ridiculously handsome face. Well. Ok, maybe that was a thought to categorise for later and Not Think About.

“So,” said Sleep, righting himself, “Babes, have you picked out a new name for yourself, I’m sure it’s super cool just like you.”

His grin was pointy and feral, and Emile laughed, shaking his head, so very used to his antics by now.

“C’mon Sunshine, you should totally tell me your name!” he was laughing now, clearly not even trying to be taken seriously.

“Real nice attempt there, buddy, perfect form, but no, not this time.”

Sleep made a show of being wounded, but eventually returned to a normal sitting position for him (which was to say, he splayed himself across the floor like some sort of cat stretching).

Emile laughed at him but ignored his antics in favour of picking up one of his books. It was a gift he had received recently, and he was yet to finish it.

“You know,” Sleep said, after a while of them sitting in companionable silence, “This probably means that even if you had told me your name before, it wouldn’t count anymore. And anyone that still knows you by that name has even less power over you than before.”

Emile looked up at him and smiled.

“That’s surprisingly good to hear… Thanks.”

There was another long silence.

“Do you like having long hair?” Sleep asked suddenly.

“What?” Emile looked up, confused this time.

“I said do you like having long hair, keep up Sunshine.”

“Well, I mean, no not really. I’d much rather have it shorter, but I’d be worried I’d make myself look ridiculous, and my parents would kill me.”

“Well, I can make it look good,” he said waving his fingers about in a gesture that Emile could only interpret as ‘look at me I’m special I have magic’, “And quite honestly your parents can suck it.”

Emile had laughed at first, but with even the barest hint of an agreement from his lips Sleep pulled him about and got straight to work. His first action was to chop clear off the braid Emile had been wearing, and hand it to him triumphantly, smiling at the rope of golden hair. Then, he had gotten to work, doing stars knew what, removing large chunks and small strands, fluffing, smoothing and running his too long and bony fingers all through it. When he pulled back and announced himself done, Emile was suspicious of the results, but upon seeing himself in the mirrored glass he was presented he couldn’t help but gasp. He hardly recognised himself- definitely in a good way. He looked, almost, like his older brother, with the curly blond hair now cut short, curling around his ears and just bushing his eyebrows when not pushed back.

He leapt from his chair at a moment’s notice, squeezing Sleep into a tight hug.

“I love it,” he said, slightly tearfully, “Thank you.”

“Then, I give you this gift,” Sleep said, resting his hands on Emile’s head, “No strings attached, no payment needed, that for as long as you wish it, your hair shall not grow any longer than this.”

That was another thing he knew he wasn’t supposed to do with the fae- thank them or accept gifts. But it was Sleep, and he’d honestly just done one of the most amazing things he’d witnessed in all his life, so it really would have been remiss of him not to thank him.

After a few more moments of Emile’s tearful hug, they honestly spent the rest of the afternoon as they always did, sitting around, talking and sometimes doing their own thing in silence with each other. And that night, even as dusk began to fall, Emile was unwilling to leave. He didn’t want to go home and have to pretend to be someone else again. He knew he had to eventually, but for now he wanted to hold on to that sense of peace one moment longer.

And so, without even realising it, he drifted off to sleep on the floor and cushions of a tree house that had always felt that much more like a home than where his family lived. Distantly, he knew his parents, and especially his grandmother would be furious, but he couldn’t find it in himself to care.

That night, for the first time, he knew he could truly hear the voice when it whispered in his ear, “Good night, Sunshine. Sleep well,” while the body it belonged to carefully covered him in a blanket.

Emile Picani was a smart boy. All the people from the village asked him for advice on their problems, even though he was just eighteen, he could tell stories that enchanted the young and old alike and that was barely scratching the surface of the many, many things he could do.

Most people thought he was fantastic, if exceedingly odd. Of course, most people also thought that Emile was a girl, and spent his afternoons painting in the fields or reflecting in nature, which did detract from their opinions just a little.

And Emile was happy with that, mostly. He was happy to exist as he was, as long as he had the opportunity to escape, as he did as often as he could with Sleep.

Sleep, his best friend since childhood who he knew as well as he knew himself. Sleep, the boy he had watched grow from baby face to… strikingly handsome, and borderline beautiful. Sleep, the fae who strayed closest to the forest’s edge, and who knew enough about what he was to do it properly now, and still never used his magic against Emile. Sleep, who had done every single thing inside his power, which only extended so far out of the forest, to make Emile more like the man he was- who cut his hair, and found him clothes, and charmed his voice, and loved and accepted him as he was.

Sleep, who Emile had realised- or rather, admitted to himself- four months ago that he was in love with.

It was still strange to think about, that he’d finally owned up to it. (he hadn’t said anything to Sleep though, of course not, what do you think he was, an idiot?). It had taken years, and multiple thoughts that he had decided to ‘think about later’ and then never got around to.

But he was. He was hopelessly in love with his best friend, who also happened to be a fae of importance in his court.

He was in love with his beautiful face, freckled and sharp, his curly, autumn toned hair that shone in the sun, his perfect brow and his long, admittedly slightly gangly limbs. But he was also in love with the way he made him laugh, the way he didn’t always understand human things, but made an effort if Emile cared, the way he felt when he hugged him, and the sweetness he would speak to him with.

Emile could probably name any trait of Sleep’s and declare himself in love with it, because he was. And trust him, he knew this wasn’t a trick or curse. As soon as he was willing to admit it to himself, he tried every magical method he knew to detect or lift a curse, to learn about meddling magics and everything he could possibly try. And none of it helped, and he was forced to admit that it was all him, and his… feelings.

Usually Emile was good with feelings, though, apparently that didn’t apply to his own.

And after his brief tirade of trying everything under the sun to rid himself of a curse, he started returning to the forest again, and for every time he refused to answer Sleep on his absence, his heart grew a little heavier.

But he adapted, and accepted it, and internalised it, because there was no way someone like Sleep would be interested in me. I’m mortal. My friendship is one thing, but that was quite another. So, they went on as normal, and if Emile noticed the Sleep noticed that something was wrong, neither would admit it.

Emile wouldn’t dare to disrupt something that was already working so well. Why do that for some simple feelings when the friendship they already had was so important.

So, it was normal. For a while at least. And then Emile’s parents had to go and destroy all of it.

He’d been told on a perfectly normal winters morning. He’d just finished cleaning up the hearth from the night before and getting ready to light a new fire for the rest of the day, when his mother and sisters had pulled him away. They’d refused to tell him what for, wittering away between each other as they pulled him and sat him down at the kitchen table.

His grandmother sat behind them, frowning at their antics, and throwing worried glances his way. He wasn’t sure how to interpret that, his grandmother had never seemed to like him, until recently.

Eventually, his mother stopped dancing about, and grinned widely.

“Darling, darling we have such wonderful news for you!” she announced, practically dancing in place. “We’ve found you a husband.”

Emile felt cold. This was terrible. He had tried so, so hard to avoid this. He had walked out on more than one conversation about it and had done everything in his power to ensure that none of the men in the village would be interested.

He didn’t want a husband, not just because he was in love with Sleep, but because he knew that they would want him to move away, to live in the village or some other farm, and leave his forest, and Sleep and everything that really mattered, and the only person that understood and accepted him as a man.

“Oh, look! She’s in shock, it’s so sweet!” twittered his youngest sister, Mary, who despite being only twelve had wanted a husband and her own family since forever. “Oh, I’m jealous, you’re so lucky Em, I thought we’d never do it!”

“Yes, it really is quite a miracle, it’s almost as if she’d been trying to avoid it,” Annie, his other sister said, with as much dry bite as she could manage, looking down her nose at him.

He squirmed in his seat.

“Now, girls,” his mother said, hushing them, “Emily may have made it a little difficult, with the short hair, and the pants, and the disappearing and the… general lack of approachability to suiters and…”

Emile knew that she was trying to find a way to say “and everything else” without sounding rude. And honestly, he was proud of that. Half of that was just who he was, but the other half had been a deliberate attempt to ward off such suitors. And it had apparently worked until now.

“Yes, that is rather a lot of difficult things to contend with, isn’t it,” said Annie, primly.

“Oh, but it’s soooo romantic that he decided he wants to marry her regardless, don’t you think Anne? I’m sure she’ll just love him- He’s so handsome! And I think that he like, thinks he’s rescuing her,” Mary said dreamily.

From behind them, in the doorway, Emile’s grandmother spoke up.

“Do you girls plan on hearing what Em has to say on the matter, or are you content to continue gossipin’ about the engagement like village hens?”

Emile was surprised, he’d never heard his grandmother speak in his defence in that way before.

They all looked in shock at their grandmother, before turning back to Emile, now waiting for him to say something.

“I think,” he said, hating how his voice shook, “I think I shall have to spend some time contemplating this. In nature.”

Then he stood from the table roughly and hurried out the door, ignoring the many calls after him and the clattering of his chair.

He hurried past the tree line, into the forest, and down the path. He had no idea if it was safe that day, and he didn’t care. He couldn’t breathe, he couldn’t think, all he knew was that he needed to be not here and rather there. There, at the treehouse, there with Sleep, there away from that nightmare.

He stumbled along the path, basically running blind, and up, into the treehouse. The first thing he did was change out of his dress, the second was collapse in a heap on the cushions.

Not too long after, he felt a hand on his arm, and without thinking threw himself towards it. He could tell in a moment that it was Sleep, from just the touch, but even more so for burying his face in his shirt. He smelled of crisp autumn leaves even in the winter, and soft, earthy scents like mushrooms.

Emile barely managed to get his story out, between gasps for breath and his body shaking.

He was sure that Sleep could tell, just by listening to his thoughts. The thoughts screaming, I don’t want this. I want anything but this.

Sleep gently stroked his hair and listened to him speak. When he was done, he pulled him tighter against him, and calmed him gently.

“Babes, what do you want me to do?” he asked, seriously, his jet dark eyes glinting.

“There’s nothing you can do… I can’t… there’s nothing I can think of that will fix this- I can’t, my family will disown me if I don’t…” he sighed.

“You could stay with me, Sunshine?

“Don’t be silly, Sleep. They’d come looking and take me away. And then they’d be after you too”

“No, babes, I meant it. You could stay here with me. You promised me, back when we were kids, that your time here in the forest would be spent with me. If you stay in this forest, they can’t take you away from me, if you don’t want to go. Promises with the fae are binding, you know that,” he said, seriousness coating his features in an unfamiliar pattern.

“Oh,” said Emile, for a moment, hope blossoming in his chest, only to be crushed by reality. “Oh, I wish I could Sleep, but… I don’t belong here. I can come, and visit you- you’re not the problem, but I’m… I’m just a human. I couldn’t truly live out here…”

It hurt. There wasn’t much flowery language that could dance about that, he was, simply put, sad.

Sleep frowned.

“I’m sure I could find a way to work around that- I have magic, I have people who know magic. I could, I could find something. I could do something, anything. I would- I’d do anything to keep you here with me Em- Hell, if only you’d tell me your name I could end all this right now and-” he said frantically, hands dancing around, and voice clipped.

In that moment, Emile could really see the fae shining through- he wouldn’t lie and say it wasn’t a little scary. He’d never really believed Sleep when he’d asked him for his name before, never thought that there would be a moment when he would actually fear the question, and it scared him. But after a second, he calmed, he breathed deeply like Emile had taught him for dealing with bad emotions and steadied himself.

“If it is what you want, Em, I will find a way to stop this. Be it keeping you here, or some other way of removing him I will do it- but only if that’s what you want. I will look into any option- What’s the point of being a prince if I can’t, find a solution to this- but I won’t use any of these options without you asking first. I swear it to you,” he declared, and the rush of magic this time was palpable.

Oh. Oh, he thought. Sleep is a prince, he thinks first, stunned. His second thought could not be distilled down into so simple a sentence. It was more a vague amalgamation of emotions- gratitude at the offer, regret at having thought he would ever hurt him really, doubt in his ability to do anything, and mostly pure, shining love.

“Thank you,” he whispers softly, “I- I don’t think that I can choose that but thank you…”

There’s a long moment of silence, and he realises in that moment that he can’t leave with these things left unsaid.

“I- Sleep, you’re my best friend in the world and it would hurt so much to be apart from you but… I couldn’t stand to be with you all the time either, because- because-” he felt like he was choking on the words, like his throat was filled with precious stones that didn’t want to come forward, until they all spilled out in one moment, “Because I’m in love with you and I couldn’t stand to have you so close, all the time, and not, not have that, but I know I can’t, because you’re- you’re you- you’re fae, and a prince apparently to boot and I’m just the mortal boy who fell into every stereotypical trap. So, thank you for the offer, but I can’t.”

And then he turned and fled for the second time that day before he could even look at Sleep’s face. He cried, alone, in his room that night, when even his sisters were avoiding him.

When he fell asleep, he didn’t expect to even hear the voice that whispered in his ear, but he did. And it said, “Sleep well,” but it felt like it was calling him home. It felt like, “I miss you,” and “I’ll protect you.” it felt like his heartbreaking, and he couldn’t do anything to fix it.

+ 1

The day that Emile met his fiancé was not a good one.

It was freezing cold, but his mother hand forced him into the fanciest dress he owned, which was far thinner than was appropriate for this kind of weather, and they expected him to walk into the village with them.

The walk felt longer than usual. He tried to focus on something other than the cold air stinging his lungs or nipping his skin. So, instead, he thought. He thought about his fiancé, his fate, and future. And the niggling reminder of Sleep’s promise. Well, he tried not to think about that one, honestly. But out of all his concerns, that was the only one that didn’t leave him feeling as cold as the winter he walked in.

He still knew nothing about his fiancé, not even his name. There were a dozen eligible young men in the village it could be, and Emile would be happy with… none of them. Not a single one.

Once, he thought he could have accustomed himself to the idea. And then he realised two integral things to his whole… being, and suddenly he didn’t think he could.

These thoughts were such a dark, spiralling hole he barely noticed when they finally arrived in the village, and his mother and sisters pulled insistently at his arms to guide him.

There was only one other family at the village square, that morning, everyone else inside like smart people, and in seeing them- Well, if Emile had been cold before he was practically frozen now.

With no one else in sight, there were no other options, and the panic bubbled lowly in Emile’s stomach.

Fredrick Jackson, and his father, grandfather, mother and sisters, stood by the frozen village fountain. Fredrick, whose family were known for being hunters and trappers and their cold, cruel nature. Which was all well and, well, bad on its own, but the Jackson’s were also known for something else, something that Emile thought was easily worse, to him at least. They didn’t just hunt animals; they hunted the supernatural- and especially the fae.

Emile stopped dead in his tracks. The glare his sister threw him was withering, but he couldn’t find it in himself to care.

His mother grabbed his arm roughly and pulled him forward, pasting on a brittle smile between the jab to his ribs. He tried his best to school his features into…impassivity… he couldn’t manage sweet or happy and he knew it.

“Ah, and there she is!” Fredrick exclaimed loudly, “The not-witch.”

Emile flinched at the name. He knew he’d been called it in the village for years, but not many were game enough to say it to his face. They didn’t want to risk his anger if he were a witch and didn’t want to feel the guilt if he wasn’t.

“Jackson,” he said, schooling his voice to neutrality.

“Oh, yes, yes, you were right Maria, you cheeky little minx. I can practically see the magic on her, oh she will be a challenge.”

Oh, Emile could hardly stop himself from bristling.

Fredrick’s mother, Lucinda, ran her eyes over him savagely, and then sighed pointedly.

“Yes- you can see it in basically everything- the hair, the voice- just,” she paused gesturing her up and down, “All over. Either she is a witch or has consistent contact with something else of strong magic.”

She said that as though it made a bad smell appear under her nose. Emile barely contained the urge to bolt.

“Yes, mother and that is what will make her a challenge. I’m sure you’ll make a proper Jackson spouse of her eventually,”

“I happen to be a person, not a challenge, Fredrick, and would appreciate if you would treat me as such,” Emile said, voice firm despite his mother’s glare.

Fredrick waved his hand dismissively.

“What are her hobbies, again, Mrs Picani? How does she spend her free time?” his sister, Maria, asked.

“Well, she’s quite good at painting and writing, and telling stories... and likes walks in nature and the like. She’s also quite skilled at embroidery.”

“I happen to be able to talk for myself!”

His mother jabbed him in the ribs again.

“Hmm. Well, we will have to teach her a few things- respect, namely it seems. And dispel that awful charm on her hair, but this could work,” Mr Jackson said.

“Oh fantastic,” his mother said, ignoring the slight in the words, “It would be an honour to join our families Mr Jackson. My husband would be happy to discuss negotiations with you, while I discuss wedding plans with Lucinda.”

Emile squirmed. He just wanted to be at home, with a book, or with Sleep or really, anywhere but here.

Mr Jackson nodded curtly.

“Wonderful. Girls, why don’t you return home and give your grandmother of the good news.”

Emile immediately turned to flee.

“No, not you Emily, you should stay and get to know your future husband,” She said tightly.

“Oh, it’s no matter. We’ll have plenty of time to get to know each other after the wedding,” Fredrick said with what he probably assumed to be a winning smile.

Emile shuddered internally.

“Indeed. In that case,” she said making a face but waving Emile off.

He turned on heel immediately. He walked as fast as he could without looking like he was running. There was something welling up inside him. He couldn’t tell if it was panic, disgust or something else entirely.

His sisters trailed behind him, gossiping between themselves and giggling into their gloves. It didn’t take long to completely lose sight of them.

When he made it home, he collapsed at the dining table, not even with enough energy to make it to his room.

“Is he as bad as his father?” a voice asked from the doorway. Emile looked up, startled by his grandmother’s presence.

“what?”

“I said, is he as bad as his father. Fredrick, I mean.”

“Oh… well, that depends on what you think is bad.”

“Abhorrent personality, stuck up, hates anythin’ magical unless it’s one of their own weapons,” his grandmother suggested.

“I mean, yeah, he’s all of that- wait, don’t you hate magic grandmother?” he asked, confused.

She stared at him for a long moment, her wrinkled face set in a mask. And then it broke, as she laughed.

“Hey- what are you- what’s so funny about that?” he exclaimed.

“Oh, oh you think that I hate magic, little one? That does explain some things, indeed. No, of course I don’t hate magic, how could I? I’m a witch.”

Emile stared at her.

“But- you- but when we were younger, you told all those stories and- and…” he trailed off, more confused than before.

“I told you stories so you could protect yourself from the good neighbours, and other people usin’ magic against ya, kid. Not that you listened to a single one, mind.” She said, pinning him with a knowing stare.

He squirmed.

“Why do you think I taught you all those ways to test for magic- they’re magic in and of themselves, boy. Anyone can carry iron and holly berries on them, but it takes magic and will to do the rest.”

Emile’s head spun. And then, he paused, and something stuck out to him.

“Wait, what- what did you just call me?” he asked, almost afraid of the answer, but hoping so, so hard.

“Well, I called ya boy, and I ain’t calling you man, because you’re still far too young for that, kid, but it’s what ya are aren’t ya- don’t think I can’t tell these kinds of things. I thought we just established that I use magic. An’ speaking of, I think it’s about time I knew what name to actually call you, kid.”

“How did you know? When? I never said anything and- why did you never say anything… I thought that no one would understand… I… I’m Emile…” he said, surprised, sadness and hope warring for equal place in his tone.

“I knew before you were born. When you mama was pregnant with you, I tested, just as I did for all your brothers and sisters, and the magic told me you’d be a boy. Your parents thought I was looney when you were born, but I haven’t been wrong before or since, I knew it was just a matter of time…”

“Then why didn’t you say something, if you knew, why didn’t you… help me?”

She looked at him, and laughed, “You wouldn’ta accepted my help if I’d offered boy, don’t think I don’t know that. You were scared of me for years, and weary and distasteful after tha’. I knew my place. An’ besides, that boy of yours in the forest seemed to do a damn good job of it anyway.”

“He’s not my boy- wait, you know about Sleep? I thought you hated the fae, how can you be so nonchalant about me- me being friends with one of them?”

As if that day couldn’t be any more confusing.

“Of course, I know about your boy- what kind of witch’d I be if I didn’t know about my grandson traipsing around in the woods with the prince of the fair folk. I was keepin’ an eye out for you. Now, this don’t mean I like them, mind, but he’s… he’d good for you, Em. I’ve seen him lookin’ after you, in a way that none of us here could. I don’t trust him… not for me, but for you… you help each other, don’t you?”

“I mean… I like to think so… but that doesn’t matter, anyway… I probably won’t be able to ever see him again, after I’m married.”

His grandmother snorted.

“I have no idea how your mother convinced the Jacksons to even talk to us- they’ve been out for my blood for forty years- but please tell me you ain’t actually thinkin’ of going through with this just ‘cause it’s what your mama wants, boy?”

“What else am I supposed to do, then? I can’t say no and stay here, and the only other option I have is… well…” he trails off, staring out the window at the forest in the distance.

“Ah, your boy has a way out does he?”

“He’s not my boy,” Emile repeated, “We’re just… friends…”

“Of course, you are, sweety, I haven’t seen you pining for months or anything.”

“Hey! I’m not that obvious- oh, oh darn…” he sighs, “I mean, yeah, he has a way, but I wouldn’t be able to leave the forest again, I don’t think… and he almost certainly hates me now, after my last visit.”

His grandmother levels him with a look for a very long moment, before sighing and resting a hand over his.

“There ain’t nothing here for you honey, I think we both know that. You’d be miserable with Fredrick, you ain’t no wife and you ain’t no Jackson, you’ve had magic in your veins since before you were born, an’ that boys only strengthened it… An’ if you ain’t either of those things, I think you’ll find it’ll be hard to be with the rest of this family, anyway. An’ that boy, he gave his word to protect you, if you wanted it, I can sense these kinds of promise’s Emile, an’ the fae ain’t gonna make them lightly. He loves you just like you love him,” her eyes were grim, but the hand on his was warm, and comforting.

He sighed, resting his head in his free hand.

“You’re right, probably- about the protection, not the liking me back- but I don’t- I can’t… what about you? and what about them they’ll come looking for me, I know,” he said, voice small.

“Don’t you worry about me, boy. I’m old, but I still got enough left in me. I’ll come an’ visit you in those woods of yours,” she said with a strange grin, before her features turn serious once more, “An’ we’ll deal with them others, don’t worry. I have a plan.”

When his family returned that night, Emile joined them in their ‘festivities’. He pretended, as well he could when every lie still felt like a betrayal to a promise, that he was happy, that this was what he wanted.

He ate dinner with them and tried to ignore the burning the feeling of the letter in his pocket, that felt as though it would burn a hole through the cloth, and the thought of the bag, packed upstairs ready to flee.

He waited until both his sisters had gone to sleep before he dared enter their bedroom, changing as quietly as he could, pulling on warm, thick trousers and a coat. He took the bag, and crept downstairs, thinking his parents to be in bed. He laid the letter down on the table with the words, written as neatly as he could have in a shaking hand, face up, for the world to see.

Dear Family,

Know that I love you, and will miss you dearly, but cannot remain. I cannot marry the man you have chosen for me, and I cannot continue to live a lie. I love another, and am not who you think I am. Please do not look for me, you will not like what you find.

Your daughter, and sister, Emily

Your brother, and son, E.

He couldn’t bring himself to lie, in his final message, and that strike through was the only alteration made.

The letter was his goodbye to his family, and as he took a moment, to have what he knew would be one, final, look around the kitchen he had grown up in, he said his goodbye to that place, and walked out the door.

He left the warmth of his house in favour of the cold, dark, outside, and began his trek into the woods.

Perhaps if he had taken a moment longer to look around that room, he would have noticed his father watching from the doorway.

Halfway to the tree, Emile heard noises. It was shouting, the yells of men and the bays of dogs. He turned and saw lights in the distance.

Oh. Oh, no.

He ran. Before, he had been content to walk, but now, he fled with purpose. The path was dangerous at night, and the thorns reached for him at every opportunity, but he ignored every one that made contact. He had to go.

His breaths came in loud, puffing gasps, sending mist spiralling into the cold, and the crunch of his feet on snow was just as loud in his ears.

But then, ahead of him- More lights, not the ones of pursuers, but ones of safety. He tumbled into the clearing with the tree, and threw himself inside the house, still so cold, and curled into a shape as small as he could manage, on the pillows.

He hoped with every shred of his being, that Sleep would come, that he would know, and he would find him.

He could still hear the yells, the cries to split up or stay together, but in some moments, his frantic breathing overtook it.

Stop this. He told himself. You know better than this. Breath. Breath properly Emile.

He focused and schooled his breathing into something resembling normalcy. He steeled himself. He could do this. He was strong enough for this. He would hide, and they would not find him, or they would, and he would refuse to leave. He could do this.

Then, there was a hand on his shoulder, pulling him up. He wanted to scream, but there wasn’t enough air in his chest. And then he saw Sleep, and he stilled.

“Hey, hey babes are you ok, hey babes c’mon, what’s wrong?” he asked fluttering his hands all over Emile, checking for injuries.

“I’m- I’m here because I can’t do it, I can’t marry him. I missed you and I hate him and there’s nothing there for me and I love you enough that I could- I could be happy to be with you even just as your friend, but I can’t go back. I won’t.”

“Oh, oh Em, sunshine, darling, I wouldn’t ever make you go back,” he said, a hand on his cheek, “Of course I want you here with me. However you’ll have me… because… I love you too, my Sunshine.”

Emile’s heart stopped. He loved him. Sleep loved him. He could cry. Gods, he wanted to kiss him so bad.

“Hey! Over this way, there’s light!” he heard a yell, in the distance. Even from here, he could tell, it was Fredrick.

“Oh, no- oh- Sleep, that’s him... he’s- darn, no. I’ll have to face him, convince him to leave,” he jumped and started to pace, thinking

“Absolutely not, I might look like a lanky bitch, but I am stronger than you! and besides-” Sleep was cut off as Emile whirled around.

“I am not a damsel in distress, Sleep, I came out here to save myself, and besides, he’s a magic hunter- He, if anyone, can hurt you, but he won’t touch me!”

“I was going to say- ‘besides, I told you before about your promise’. They can’t take you, it’s against the magic.”

Emile’s mouth formed a comically round ‘O’. For a moment, he looked relieved, and then he blanched.

“Wait, is that- is it as strong as gifts you gave me for my hair and my voice?” he asked cautiously.

“About the same, yeah, babes,” Sleep said with a cocky grin.

“Then that won’t work, he- His family seem to know how to dispel those kinds of things- I don’t know if it’s true but… I don’t like the risk.” He sighed, pacing again.

Sleep frowned.

“Well… then, babes… I was going to wait to suggest this… but… I- I was trying to find a way to, like, make sure they couldn’t take you if you did… come back, and to… be able to keep you with me, forever, after that.” He said slowly.

“And did you?”

Hesitance.

“Well, yeah babes… but, it’s a- it’s like a whole commitment and a half. It’s a lot. It’s a spell, old, fae magic. To take a human partner and give them the life of a fae while they remain bound to their… partner… only- only like super powerful fae can do it, and totally don’t like to brag, but I think that I can manage it… for you. No other magic, or dispelling, could remove that…”

“There- that has to be her, she’s not dumb enough to wander around in the dark out here,” the voice comes again, closer now.

“I’ll do it,” he says without thinking, not that he needs to.

Sleep looks startled, but nods and pulls Emile to the middle of the room, and laces both his hands through Emile’s.

“Here, in this moment, I call the world to witness me, as I ask you to join in my eternity. I ask of you three things, that I will return in kind, to bind us together, truly and fully. I ask first of you a proclamation of your heart, your feelings laid bare with no dishonesty,” Sleep didn’t waver in his clear recitation, staring directly into Emile’s face.

“My feelings… My feelings for you, with no dishonesty, are love, and trust, and loyalty. I love you, once as a friend and now as… whatever this is,” Emile’s voice did waver, as he tried to put to words the love he felt.

He also felt a little lightheaded, this was all so fast but nothing about it felt… wrong. On the contrary, it felt like exactly where he needed to be.

“You are, quite literally my Sunshine. You brighten my day and everything around you, you make me as happy as I’ve ever been and there is nothing, I’d have over you. I’ve loved you ever since I’ve known what love was, as a friend, and now… as this… My sunshine.” He takes a deep breath and continues to recite as the yells outside carry closer, “I ask second of you that you swear your life and loyalty to me, that will last as long as this bond.”

“I swear my life and loyalty to you, the love of my life, with no regrets,” Emile said, feeling almost bold as he could sense the magic coursing through the air around him.

It felt like it was digging into his skin, taking root, and pulling him forwards. He leans towards Sleep, feeling like he had his own pull of gravity.

“And I swear my life and loyalty to you, with no regrets, my cheeky little human, who clearly is trying to outdo me in dramatic declarations of love, which is quite clearly criminal,” Sleep laughs, releasing his hand to rest a palm against Emile’s cheek, tenderly.

Emile leaned into the touch.

“I ask, third and finally of you, your true name, freely given in exchange, to bind us as one,” Sleep said, face so close to Emile’s he could barely focus on anything else.

“My name- My true name,” he said, breathing deeply, “Is Emile Picani, and I give this freely, in exchange.”

The magic around him clashes then, sudden bursts of sparks along his skin, searing but not burning, and leaving pleasant warmth in their place. It surges, and surrounds him, and it moves and pushes, it pushes him towards Sleep and then in a moment- it freezes, and it holds, and waits, like a wave caught just before the crash, a second away from spilling over and waiting for the push.

“And my true name, freely given, is Remy,” says- says Remy, and the magic falls.

It’s like a tidal wave, and a tree falling, and a hurricane. It catches on every part of him and pushes them together, their chests touch, their fingers still laced and Remy’s other hand still on his cheek, and it’s almost like they’re falling into exactly where the world wants them to be.

Their lips meet, and it would be remiss to say that it was like magic- because it wasn’t just like magic, it was magic, zipping through them at every connected point, like sparks between their lips.

It was wonderful, and everything, and perfect, and just a little awkward to experience so much at one time. And then it was over, and the magic dimmed, and it was just them, and something between them that Emile could only assume was whatever… that had been building.

And their second kiss was just as good as the first, less signing fire and more slow, tender caring, and understanding.

“I love you, Remy,” Emile said quietly.

“I love you too, my beautiful Emile,” He smiled as if the taste of his name on his lips were like wine, “I’ve waited years to be able to say that, and now, no one will stop me again.”

Emile could still hear the shouting, but as he rested his head on Remy’s shoulder, knowing that this- this bond was unbreakable, he didn’t fear. He was strong, and standing side by side with Remy, he was stronger, and he wasn’t going back. He had everything he needed right there.

#remile #remy sanders #sleep/remy #emile #dr emile picani #fae au #trans!emile #fae!remy #cursing #friends to lovers #four and one #writing #fanfic #emo writes things #sanders shorts #cartoon therapy

286 notes · View notes

a-charm-of-witches · 3 years

Note

is that ella enchanted? 💕💕

:3 it is. It issss it is it is.

This is slightly beside the point, but I have such a love-hate relationship with this movie, but I didn’t want to use the book cover as that’s an even easier thing to spot. But honestly, both versions made my influence list for vastly different reasons.

Rant incoming.

So, if you happen not to know, the book and the movie are vastly different animals. They share some character names, and a vague allusion to the same plot, but where it matters the movie might as well be “In Name Only,” as Dominick Noble would say.

BOOK VIBES: The world of the book is much more typical vaguely... early renaissance fantasy world. It has ogres and elves and fairies, but the way the world is structured is just vague European conglomerate + finishing schools for some reason. That’s a plot point. I’m also digressing.

The part that I take into consideration with ACoW is how logical the soft magic system is. and is soft magic. We’re never given any hard-fast rules about how something comes to be, or what magical creatures need to make a spell work, but you do have very consistent rules about the consequences of magic.

Ella herself is the best example of this, obviously. I’m going to try and keep away from major spoilers, but just know if you haven’t read it, the next few paragraphs may venture into that territory.

So, Ella is given a “gift” by a faerie when she’s a baby, the “gift” of “always being obedient.” On the surface this seems pretty innocuous, but of course it isn’t. Ignoring the whole bucket of issues behind literally compelling someone to follow orders, the faerie who “blesses” her doesn’t bother putting limitations on who can boss Ella around. Therefore, Ella grows up having to obey any and every direct command given to her.

This makes Ella into an extremely rebellious, pedantic person, who essentially rule-lawyers her way through life... because she has to.

She figures out pretty early on that unless someone commands her to do something in a highly (like, legal tier) specific way, she can usually skirt her way around it or purposely mess it up enough that they eventually leave her alone. However, there are times when the curse accidentally helps her in rather horrific ways.

ANYWAY, magic forming itself around language, magic having a very specific brand of logic, even if it doesn’t come with precise formulas and hidebound rules, is something that I love, and that I’m trying to channel into ACoW, particularly when it comes to the Fae. Words matter; phrasing matters, and the wrong phrasing can have severe consequences.

MOVIE VIBES: So, uh, there are reasons why the movie didn’t sit right with me the first few times I watched it. A lot of that has to do with their just... I’m still not sure why the actual plot of the book wasn’t good enough for the screen, let’s put it that way. The book didn’t need an Evil(TM) Uncle, or a super powered, karate-kid Ella to get by, and the movie didn’t really need those things either.

BUT, older and wiser, I do actually enjoy the pure camp of the movie, and I specifically love the vibes of the opening sets where everything is modern and magical all at once. Like, they built a Renfaire-esque mall, and that was pretty baller. So, yeah, ACoW is vibing with that over-the-top renfaire zeal.

#author chatter #acow spoilers #here's a rant no one asked for #influence meme #i'm so sorry everyone #my dork flag flew

3 notes · View notes

ancientechos · 4 years

Text

Hex

Emet-Selch/Arianna ♡ 1632 words ♡ Fae Queen Illya AU

A tale of how the curse began. Discussed with @whitherliliesbloom prior to writing.

Fae live in the present. Such is often said about his kind. The architect, however, prefers to live in the past. It is far more attractive, far more welcoming.

In his dreams, he relives countless hours, countless days, waking only for basic functions before sinking into blessed ignorance once more.

Today, however -- today is different. He is yet to ascertain if this is unfortunate or not.

The old, wizened human’s cane trembles with power. Of course a magician would deign to barge into his humble territory. Perhaps man’s magicks are among the only things capable of fending off most of the fae -- at least insofar as the sentinels go. Unfortunately for the human, the fairy he bothers today simmers with fae magic, and does not particularly care for the rule of bringing trespassers to Titania.

Not a single human who has crossed his path has lived to tell the tale.

Magic or no magic, it will take not even a moment for him to deal with this miserable old sod.

Narrowing pale golden eyes, he lifts one of his hands, about to snap his fingers together --

“Wait.”

The architect bows to no one, least of all one of that despicable, wretched, vile race. It is not the command in his tone that intrigues him, but the desperation.

For the first time, he deigns to look at him properly, taking in the bloodstained robes, that ridiculously oversized crown upon his head, the long beard. The human takes his silence as assent of some kind.

“I need your help,” he utters, his words almost a gasp. Perhaps making his way through the trees, past the nymph and other fae sentries, had been taxing for him. The architect watches as his grip upon his cane tightens for a mere moment. “Please.”

Exhaling loudly through his nose, the fae shrugs.

“So very sorry, but I am not a wish granter nor any sort of djinn. I’d tell you to find someone else, but, well, seeing as you’re going to die -- “

“I want to die.”

-- He’s not sure, truly, what he’s more impressed by: that the mage has the gall to interrupt him...or the drivel that spews from his mouth.

“I want to die, and I want to take the rest of my kind with me. Surely you would have no qualms granting such a wish.”

Something nags at him then, a strange, uncomfortable sensation that has a sneer spreading across his face.

“And what ever makes you think I would agree to grant this desire of yours?” the architect asks. “You know nothing of me.” The wrinkled face lowers in a nod.

“I do not -- but I do know that fae kind have no reason to desire the company of men. The land would be far better off without them.”

“You make the mistake of assuming I care about what my fellow kind want.” His hand lifts again, and he delights in the flash of panic that streaks across the magician’s face.

“Wait, I -- “ He takes a single step forward. “If not for others, then -- why not for yourself?”

His brows furrow. “Myself?”

“Are you saying you have any affection for mortals?”

“I detest humans.” The venom that leaks into his voice surprises even himself -- the mage trembling back at the shadow that mars his face.

“Then, please -- all I ask is that you allow me this one favour. This singular boon. To smite the race you so abhor from this very star...that is all I desire. My people desert me...they spit upon the old traditions and teachings that have taken them so far. They stride down the path of ignorance and idiocy, with nigh a care in the world...and I would have them, every single one of them, put down for their foolishness.”

The human mage stands tall as he finishes his passionate tirade, meeting the architect’s gaze squarely with not even a flinch. His grip upon his cane regal, even kingly as he holds his shoulders back, posture impeccable in spite of his age. A stark contrast to the fae, so many years older and yet resolutely slouched.

Well...if he desires to doom his race so badly, who is he to stop him? In fact, he quite likes this idea. Simply raze them all from the earth, and with little effort on his part...

“Very well.” He waves a hand carelessly, beckoning the human toward him. “I shall assist you in bringing about the end of your species.”

The old man steps forward. The fae does not miss his relieved sigh.

“Might I ask to whom I speak with, O great wish granter of mine?”

The architect snorts.

“No, you may not.” He is not so stupid, and there is only one worthy of uttering that name, and she is long gone. “And you? What is your name, mortal?”

“You may call me...Thordan.”

“Mm. Charmed, I’m sure.” That name, however -- for a moment it sends a prickle through him, something like --

Prince Thordan...

-- Ah, he remembers now. This man is a spawn...

The smirk that twists his mouth is devastatingly sharp as fae magic races down his arm.

“It will be slow, and painful,” he assures. “You will be the first to fall ill, but the last to die, for your death will mean the dissolution of this curse. In that sense, I suppose this will give you -- a temporary immortality. The final stage...is an unforgiving sleep, of which yours will be short.”

Black vines twist from his fingers to touch upon the wizened man’s face. It sinks into his skin like some insidious disease, rendering pale flesh black for an instant before it vanishes into his pores. The magician gasps, stumbling back slightly, before he quickly regains his footing. One of his hands comes up to touch hesitantly at his face.

“What...what must I do...?”

The fae shrugs.

“Nothing at all. Simply being in the presence of your fellow mankind is enough to pass the curse to them...and they in turn will give it to others. Before long, your entire race will fall ill, with nary a cure in sight, no matter how hard they look.” The architect’s smile is cooler than any winter breeze.

________

This cannot be.

That singular thought echoes blankly through his mind, buzzing incessantly like a fly.

This cannot be.

And yet --

He remembers his ethereal Persephone, hair of dark curled strands framing eyes greener than any blade of grass. The blood that streaked her face, wings mangled and broken after the humans had been done with her -- her body breaking and dissolving into splashes of light as her soul left his grasp forever.

And yet...the human woman lying, half-fallen over the roots of the trees, is -- the very spitting image of her. If she were only to open her eyes, he is certain he would see that very same hue. And beyond that...the soul that ensconces her form...

The soul that flickers so very weakly with a disease of his own doing.

A discarded basket lies tumbled on the ground near her, herbs and grasses spilling out of it. Perhaps she had been searching for something here -- looking for something to quell the pain that surely wracks her body. Or perhaps, based on the colouration of her robes, she might be a healer looking to provide succor.

It matters not, only that she is here...

Those forest guards must truly be slacking at their jobs if she has managed to wander this far into fairy lands...

With a tiny click of his teeth, he leans down to pick her up, one arm beneath her knees while the other cradles her head.

She is far too light, even for a human.

He’s about to leave when he pauses, thinks better of it, and nods at the basket. It rights itself and floats after him as he flutters away.

________

She does not stir even when he lays her upon his bed, removing her satchel so the strap doesn’t bother her. He places it to the side as he stares down at her -- at that hauntingly familiar face.

Even though he has not seen her in the flesh in so long, he -- remembers so clearly --

Fingers lightly touch upon her cheek. The chillness of her flesh has him clicking his tongue in disapproval. And in the light of his home, she looks far too pale --

His gaze flicks from her to the bag she had carried with her. He is not a snoop, but he peers into it anyway, out of curiosity. If she is his, then it stands to reason what is hers is his as well, no? And what she does not know has no reason to vex her.

Amongst numerous uninteresting baubles is a book. This, he opens, flips through -- the words he reads has his jaw setting, brows furrowing in consternation.

Of course.

Exhaling loudly, he snaps the book shut and returns it to its rightful place.

The architect draws his hands over the sleeping woman, his own magic seeping through her. Withered lungs, unsuitable for drawing proper breath, expand; the shrivelled, weakened muscles restored to their proper strength. Colour returns a faint hue to the woman’s cheeks, and for the first time since he has seen her, she breathes easily, her sleep effortless. The fae pulls one of his blankets around her, satisfied.

With a world-weary sigh, the fae throws himself carelessly into a chair, and smacks the heel of his palm to his forehead as he watches her in slumber, awaiting for her to awaken.

#final fantasy xiv #ffxiv #emet selch #emet selch x wol #emet selch x arianna #arianna rowen #arianna #thordan #other verses #fae queen illya au #mine #my writing #fanfic #w: the dreamer and the architect #this is tagged the ship but it actually isnt super shippy #until the end i guess

26 notes · View notes

undercoveravenger · 5 years

Text

Selective Mutism

Pairing: Ben X Son of Ursula!Reader Requested: Yes Request: Can i get a ben x son of Ursula where he doesn’t talk often (selective mutism) because of the way his mother behaves, uma kind of dislikes him and he doesn’t really have a group until he meets ben and just kind of follows him around, also one of the scrapped ideas for the little mermaid was king triton being related to ursula, and triton decides he wants to meet his nephew w/ family angst idk thanks np if u don’t want to :) A/N: To the anon who requested this, thank you for the prompt: I had a lot of fun with this one! Sorry I wasn’t able to include everything you asked for in this one (and that the reader and Ben are still pretty platonic :/) but I’m thinking of making a part two depending on how this one is recieved. As always, let me know if there’s anything you want changed!

Link to Part 2: CLICK HERE

__________________________________________________________

The first time you saw King Ben was after your sister had her first mate Harry Hook kidnap him and tie him to the mast of her ship. She had seen you watching on curiously and was quick to demand that you keep an eye on him while she and the crew went to the Chip Shop to celebrate. Used to the demanding nature that your younger sister and mother shared, you nodded wordlessly and moved to perch yourself on one of the ship’s railings where you’d be able to simultaneously keep an eye on the unconscious royal and watch for any signs of your sister’s return.

You hadn’t been staring out over the waves for long when you heard the brunet stirring behind you. It was clear precisely when he realized the situation since you were easily able to tell when his breathing quickened and he began to struggle against his restraints.

He let out a distinct sigh of relief when his eyes fell on your unmoving figure, “Hey,” he called quietly and you forced yourself not to jolt in surprise. “Could- could you please untie me?” The watery lighting was just bright enough for Ben to make out the shifting of your silhouette as you shook your head. “If you can’t untie me, then could you at least tell me why I’m here?”

You shook your head again, but Ben didn’t let your reluctance to talk dissuade him. “If this is because I’m the King, then-”

“It’s not,” you mumbled quietly, the brunet’s continued chattering starting to grate at your patience.You shifted your position slightly, turning so you could face him, “Uma wants the wand and she’s using you to get it.”

Ben’s initial shock at hearing you speak was quickly wiped away as he processed your words, “The wand? But no one in Auradon is stupid enough to trade something that powerful for me…”

You nodded, raising an eyebrow pointedly as you gesture behind you at the looming peaks of the Forbidden Mountains and the swirling storm clouds above them that perpetually blanketed the Isle of the Lost.

Ben’s eyes widened as he realized what you meant, “No, no one in Auradon would, but people are different here. There are different rules and people are willing to go further for the ones they care about.” His gaze had dropped to the rough wooden planks that made up the deck of the ship, but his dark brown eyes snapped up to meet yours as a thought struck him. “You’ve got to help me get out of here; I can’t let them trade the wand. Please, help me get back to my friends and I’ll- I’ll take you back with us! You can leave the Isle and start a new life in Auradon! You can go to Auradon Prep and-”

“Why would I want to do that?” Ben’s eyes widened as you stood from your perch, the height difference between the two of you becoming startlingly apparent as you approached him. “This godforsaken place is all I’ve ever known and it’s all I ever will know. Nothing you do or say will change that.”

You backed away from the king, lowering your head as your sister’s voice rang out, echoing through the still night air as she approached you. “What were we talking about?” She sneered, glancing between the two of you mockingly. Uma’s eyes narrowed as she turned on you, “Never mind, if you were saying something, it clearly wasn’t very important.”

Ben bristled, clearly upset by the way your sister was speaking to you, “Hey, that was actually pretty rude so-”

Uma whirled to face Ben, eyes narrowed dangerously, “Does it look like I care what you have to say, Your Highness?” she snarled. “Look, just because you’re wearing ripped jeans, doesn’t mean you know anything about this place or what it takes to grow up here, so stop acting so high and mighty. Besides, my brother doesn’t have much to say anyway; my mother made sure of that.”

Ben could see you wince from your place behind Uma and he opened his mouth to retort, only to close it again when you shake your head, silently telling him to let it go. Uma nodded, seemingly satisfied with his level of compliance before taking hold of your arm and dragging you off just a little too roughly, leaving Ben alone with his thoughts.

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

The second time you had a run-in with the King was the following afternoon, when the bad-turned-good villain kids were supposed to turn Fairy Godmother’s wand over to your sister in exchange for Ben. You had been lingering behind the rest of the crew until it was revealed that the wand was a fake and a fight broke out between the rest of the crew and Ben’s friends. It was clear that the group was trying to make it to the large pipe extending from the cliff face that lead back towards the center of the town.

They had all nearly made it across when things went horribly wrong. Ben’s foot had just brushed the bridge when Harry’s hand closed on the back of his shirt, yanking him backward and laughing as the movement knocked the bridge from its place, leaving Ben stranded on the opposite side of the gap from the rest of his group.

You shot a quick glance around you, the fact that the rest of the crew wasn’t close enough to interfere hardly even processing before you were moving. You raced toward the King and his captor, building up enough momentum to knock Harry off balance as you grabbed onto Ben’s arm and using the rest of your forward momentum to drag him with you off of the edge of the pier and into the churning water below.

Unlike Uma, you’d taken largely after your mother in terms of your affinity for water, so it was remarkably easy for you to readjust your hold on the King and drag him along with you as you swam along the base of the bluffs, intending on getting far enough away from the crew so that you could be sure they wouldn’t get to the two of you before you could return Ben to his friends. Finally, you reached the secluded beach where you spent most of your free time and dragged Ben up onto the sand. He was still pretty limp from shock and the blood welling at his temple told you that Harry must’ve gotten in a pretty good blow before you had made your move.

You let out a huff, realizing that Ben wouldn’t be able to walk well on his own in his dazed state. With a firm arm around his shoulders, you swept the other under his knees in a strange parody of a princess carry and began your short hike toward the isolated alleyway that you knew the tunnel lead to.

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

When you stumbled upon the group of newly reformed V.K.s and their Auradonian companion (You could vividly remember how stunned you were with the assumed princess’s skills with a sword), they were apprehensive until they realized you were carrying Ben. Jay and Carlos were quick to make their way over to you, each moving to help you support the weight of their unconscious friend. Mal and Evie were less willing to trust you, both having recognized you as a member of your sister’s crew, and with how little you spoke, you weren’t exactly in the best place to explain yourself.

You kept your gaze lowered as you helped the boys load Ben into the limo and watched as the strange girl slipped into the sleek black vehicle to keep an eye on him, before slowly backing away. You shot the group a small smile before turning your back and starting to make your exit.

“Wait,” Mal called out after you. You stopped, turning slightly to face her while raising an eyebrow. She looked at her friends for help but Carlos only shrugged helplessly while Evie and Jay grinned noncommittally. Mal rolled her eyes, tossing a wave of her violet hair over her shoulder, “Look, you didn’t have to help him but you did. That sort of thing might not mean much over here, but it means quite a bit back in Auradon.” She smiled slightly, clearly trying not to scare you off, “Come with us. Leave the Isle behind, and your past with it, and come try something new.”

Your brows furrowed as your gaze flickered from face to face, trying to discern whether or not she was being serious. Carlos was grinning widely at you, Jay had crossed his arms over his chest and looked away, clearly trying to feign disinterest, but you could see the way he kept glancing over out of the corner of his eye. Evie was biting her lip to try and muffle her smile, and Mal was looking straight at you, her emerald eyes showing no malice or hint of deceit. After a moment’s deliberation, you nodded, trying to bite back a grin at how excited the rest of your new little crew got at your response.

After that, the five of you were quick to join the still unconscious King and the Core Four’s friend in the limo and that was it; you were finally on your way to a life where you weren’t being forced into the shadows by your sister and her crew. For the first time, you were being handed the chance to dictate your own life, and you couldn’t wait to see where it lead you.

#male reader x ben #Reader x Ben #male reader x descendants #prince ben x reader #prince ben x male reader #descendants x reader #male reader insert #prince ben imagines #descendants imagines

547 notes · View notes

swanslieutenant · 4 years

Text

the art of summoning, part 2

Notes: So.... several months later, here’s the second part of this fic. My life has been hectic since posting the last chapter of this one, but I’m happy to finally have this one up! This has ballooned (as per usual) into 3 parts, so the next one will be up when I can get it finished!

Summary: Emma has yet to master the art of summoning, but if it can help Killian rescue the fairies from the Sorcerer’s Hat, she’s going to try to her best. Though, as typical in Storybrooke, things never seem to go to plan, and a new curse sends her scrambling to find her way back to the people she loves.

Rating and Warnings: Teen.

catch up with part 1 on tumblr

Read this chapter on AO3

Alone in the brig, Emma only allows herself to wallow for a few minutes before rising to her feet, steeling herself. No matter that this is the Jolly Roger, she can’t very well stay here with a bunch of pirates who don’t know her and who she’s sure are absolutely terrified of her. Killian told her once that his crew were a superstitious lot; she has no doubt that appearing on a ship in the middle of the ocean has made many of them say a prayer to their gods for safety against whoever Emma is.

Emma grips the iron bars of the door to the cell, but they don’t budge even an inch when she rattles them. Frustrated, she attempts the poofing spell again, but when she closes her eyes, imagining herself back in the small room at Granny’s (as the only location she can really think of to go in this world), nothing happens. When she opens her eyes again, she’s still in the cell in the damp and cold depths of the ship.

She tries a couple more times, but to no avail. It appears that whatever amount of power it took to get her here in the first place is completely drained. She has no idea how far she travelled to get to this ship, but by the pure exhaustion beginning to hit her and making her feel nauseous and lightheaded, she guesses it was quite the distance. The adrenaline high she’s had since arriving back in the Enchanted Forest is starting to wear off too, leaving only that numbing exhaustion, both physically and emotionally.

Emma drops down to the floor, crossing her arms and hugging her legs close to her body. If only Killian remembered her. To see him and have her memories of their relationship, while he knows nothing about her … well, Emma wonders if this is how he felt when he showed up at her door in New York City. Hopeful, relieved, joyous – and then crushed with disappointment and heartbreak.

Perhaps she should’ve thought this whole thing a bit better. Maybe she should have sought out Regina’s help to break this curse instead of his. Not that Killian wouldn’t help her if he could, but this is Cora’s doing after all. From what Emma knows of Regina’s mother, she wanted nothing more than her daughter to be victorious, for Regina to be powerful and to rule over everyone who ‘wronged’ them. If Cora created this curse, then maybe there was some loophole that allowed Regina to retain her memories too, as Regina’s curse with Storybrooke had before.

Emma gasps suddenly and sits straight up, another jolt of adrenaline and fear rushing through her at the realization – Storybrooke, the last curse – Henry.

Oh, god, where is Henry in all this? Is he here somewhere in this cursed Enchanted Forest too? Or was he left behind in Storybrooke, alone and not knowing where his family is or what’s going on? If he’s here, where is he? Is he safe, is he out there somewhere on his own –

“Settling in?”

Emma jolts, and scrambles to her feet out of her vulnerable position on the floor, her embedded instincts of protecting herself re-appearing in an instant. She searches for the source of the voice, having recognized it already, and there, standing against the opposite wall and keeping a far distance from her, stands Hook. His face is shadowed in the darkness of the hold, his arms crossed.

“Uh, what?” Emma says blankly, not really having heard his question. Her mind is still caught up in thoughts of her son, in what has happened to him in the midst of this latest disaster.

Hook, oblivious to her thoughts, rolls his eyes, and Emma’s taken aback at the icy look he bestows upon her. She’s unused to seeing him look at her like that, not when only hours ago it was so, so different. His eyes are narrowed, his face is cold and distant, and there’s an entire lack of warmth to his stance. His usual, ever-present undercurrent of sardonic humour has evaporated in the face of the suspicious and unfriendly glare he gives her.

“I asked if you were settling in,” he repeats, voice calm and cool. “Though I should rather like to ask you what the hell you are doing here and who the hell you are.”

Emma ignores his cold tone, though it stings as if she’s been frostbitten. Instead, she grips the iron bars between them, staring at him intensely, trying to will him to remember her, to remember them.

“Emma. My name is Emma Swan.”

For a single heartbreaking moment, Emma swears she sees recognition flicker in his eyes. But as quickly as it came upon him, he’s scowling at her again, unimpressed and apprehensive.

“Swan,” he repeats, and though it’s the man she loves saying her name, as he has a thousand times, this time there’s a curled mockery to his voice that she makes her stomach turn. He surveys her up and down with cool, appraising eyes. “Unusual name for a witch.”

Emma frowns, taken aback. “I’m not a witch.”

He tilts his head at her, an eyebrow raised in question. “No? Appearing out of thin air on the deck of my ship is not the act of a witch?”

His voice is more jovial now, almost teasing, but Emma tenses. He’s doing the same thing he did above deck, a lighter tone to put her off guard. He’s obviously suspicious of her, and she can’t really blame him. As a general statement, Emma knows Killian distrusts magic. He has dark and tumultuous history with Rumplestiltskin, Regina, Cora and … well, Emma’s just never counted herself among that group.

Though her heart sinks in disappointment, Emma steels herself once again. Just because he doesn’t remember her, doesn’t mean he still can’t help her figure out how to break this curse. Killian Jones in any realm is useful, and Emma’s starting to get an idea of how he can do help her with the curse and make sure Henry is okay.

She has no idea where her son is, but since this is Cora’s curse, Emma’s wondering if maybe her son is with Regina. After all, in Cora’s eyes, Regina’s victory wouldn’t be complete without Henry by her side, right? So if he’s with her, and if Emma can get there, she can make sure he is safe and find a way for them all to make it back to Storybrooke, with Regina’s help.

It’s a gamble, but what choice does Emma have?

“I’m not going to harm you or your crew,” she says, as calmly as she can muster. “But I need your help.”

He snorts. “As you’ve said, many times. What help does a witch require of a pirate?”

She ignores the use of the word ‘witch’ and continues, “My son is missing. He’s been taken by the Evil Queen and I need help getting him back. I can’t get to her palace by myself.”

That last part is true at least; Emma doesn’t think she can manage another burst of transportation magic at this point, and while she feels slightly guilty for lying to Hook, she knows that if he could remember her, he would be more than willing to help her find Henry. And indeed, at the mention of her son, his features soften, a glimmer of the Killian she recognizes shining through.

“Ah. That is – I am sorry to hear of your boy, but I cannot help you.”

“What?” Her heart sinks. “Why not?”

He regards her silently, eyes narrowing as he scans her from head to toe. “I take it you are familiar with the Evil Queen?” he asks slowly, and Emma nods. “Then you well know that entering her territory without her permission is a death sentence. We would do no good to your boy when we’re all dead anyways.” He shakes his head, an almost imperceptible grimace of regret on his face. “I do not wish any child the presence of the Evil Queen, but I cannot help you. If that is why you sought me out, unfortunately, you’ve wasted your time. We’ll return you to the next port, and perhaps another ship can help you there –”

He begins to turn away, stepping back into the shadows of the passage towards the upper deck, and Emma grips the iron bars, wishing she could reach out and grab him instead.

“No, Killian, wait –”

But that’s the wrong thing to say. Hook whirls around, face pale now and eyes wide in honest shock. Emma backs away from the iron bars out of instinct, no desire to feel the sharp edge of his hook at her throat, as he marches back to her.

“How do you know that name?” he growls, and it’s easy to see how he gained his reputation as the fearsome Captain Hook with those black eyes directed at her, the snarl on his lip, the dark tenor to his voice.

“I – you told me,” she says, which is true but a very stupid thing to say.

“You’re a liar,” he whispers, his voice low and dangerous. “The only people who know that name are either up on my deck or have been dead for centuries.”

Emma’s throat dries up. He’s right, and she doesn’t know what to say that he’ll believe, not that she’d have a good excuse for why she’d know it in this cursed realm anyways.

“I – uh –” Then she pauses. An idea is forming … it’s not the wisest choice, it may get her into more trouble, it really isn’t the best idea but – what choice does she have? She takes a deep breath and says, “The truth is … I know who you are because I know who you’re after – Rumplestiltskin.”

Hook gapes at her, and if he had looked taken aback at her saying his name before, its nothing like his shock now. Usually one never at a loss for words, now he is, totally flabbergasted and bewildered.

“You – the crocodile?” He shakes his head, as if trying to make sure he heard her right. “You – are you working with him? What do you want? Who are you?”

“I’m not working with him,” Emma says vehemently, interrupting his stream of questioning, his voice having risen with anger with each accusation. “I would never work with Gol – the Dark One. How I know him … well, that doesn’t matter – listen, please. I’m telling you the truth. I need your help.”

Hook isn’t listening to her. He’s started pacing the small corridor opposite her cell, his hand absently playing with the brace of the hook strapped tightly to his wrist, and he demands of her, “Where is he? Where is the Dark One?”

At that, Emma hesitates. Rumple was sent out of Storybrooke by Belle several weeks ago, and no one has heard a thing from him since. She has no idea if this new curse had enough strength to drag him back to the Enchanted Forest from an unmagical land, and even if it did, she has no idea where he’d have ended up here.

The truth seems like a viable option at this point, with a furious Captain Hook glaring at her, and she nearly confesses that she has no idea.

But she changes her mind at the last moment. She has very little power here, in the cell of the Jolly Roger when its captain doesn’t know who she is, but she does have some leverage. Clearly this cursed version of Hook is still desperately after Rumplestiltskin, and if he thinks she can help him get to him … well, then maybe he’ll help her in return.

After all, once they get to Regina in the first place and break this curse, then it won’t matter that she doesn’t know where Rumple is.

It’s an awful feeling to know she’s going to lie and manipulate this Killian, but she’s not sure what else to do. She has no power other than this, as far as she can tell, and if he remembered her, he’d be absolutely willing to help her. She could try telling him about this curse in the first place, but she figures that telling him, this suspicious version of Captain Hook, that she accidently released a magical curse to send them all back here from another world won’t endear him to her cause.

She straightens her back, and swallows down the guilt and unease. “I know where he is, but I need your help first.”

Hook stops his pacing at that. For a moment, he looks slightly impressed before his lips curl into a cold smirk. It’s a cold smile that Emma’s seen him give to many other people before, but never directed to her.

She hates it.

He chuckles once, a sound that send shivers down Emma’s back, and he shakes his head, his expression grudgingly impressed.

“Ah, I see. Well played, Mistress Swan.”

Emma curls her hands into fists at her side, hating the swoop of guilt in her stomach, but there’s no backing down now. “You help me, I’ll help you. If you help me rescue my son, I’ll take you to Rumplestiltskin.”

Hook stares back at her, eyes narrowed in contemplation and his expression stony. Then he smiles again, that same cold smile. He steps forward and extends his hand through the bars, the rings adorning his fingers glinting in the faint light.

“Then we have an accord.”

Emma steps forward tentatively and grips his hand with her own. She knows her Killian, knows him even as Captain Hook in the depths of his revenge, but as she shakes this version of Killian’s hand, his eyes unreadable and hard, she can’t help but wonder who exactly she’s made this deal with.

xxxx

After Hook leaves her alone again, Emma spends a few hours of total boredom and frustration in the brig. It’s cold and damp, with a terrible smell, and there’s no place to sit that doesn’t get drenched in seawater as the ship cuts through the waves outside. She can hear rats scurrying about around her, searching for scraps and crumbs, even nibbling at her shoes at one point. When she gets back to Storybrooke, she’s going to fix this brig up into some sort of respectable holding cell, or at least one without rats or leaky floorboards.

The rickety boards outside the cell creak then, and Emma looks up sharply. Its Hook again, stepping out of the shadows, his expression unreadable. Emma tenses, watching him closely, but he merely approaches the door, unlocking it with a thin key, and he gestures her out of the cell.

“This is no place for a lady to sleep. Follow me.”

A bit taken aback, Emma scrambles to her feet and trails after Hook as he leads her through the depths of the ship, down the narrow corridor that leads to his own cabin. That he is taking her there surprises her again – she knows this version of Hook doesn’t trust her as far as he can throw her, and yet he still has brought her here to his own quarters?

The interior of the cabin looks the same as it always does: the single bed in the corner, the oak table in the middle of the room, the walls lined with bookshelves. From the porthole and windows facing outside, Emma sees that it is sunset already, the fading sun casting a low glow of amber light into the small cabin. A folded set of clothes sit on the table, and Hook picks them up to give to her.

“Dry clothes.”

“Thanks,” she replies, unfolding the clothing to look at it. It’s one of Hook’s own black shirts, and a cloth pair of trousers, and her heart twinges. “These – these are just what I need.”

He inclines his head at her, still distantly polite. “You must be hungry. I’ll fetch you something to eat.”

He disappears back out into the corridor, and when she’s alone, Emma strips out of her soaked jeans and thin shirt into the fresh clothes, tossing her leather jacket over the back of one of the chairs. The new clothes smell strongly like Killian, and the familiar scent makes her heart pang once again.

Though the clothes are clean and dry, her time in the brig has left her with a chill. Emma moves to the bed in the corner of the room, settling down on it as she usually does. She’s only been seated for a few minutes before Hook returns, a plate with a block of cheese, a loaf of bread and a pear on it. He skids to a stop in the doorway, an eyebrow raising at the sight of her.

“You’ve certainly made yourself at home.”

Emma tenses. She’d sat on his bed out of habit, and she gets to her feet, moving quickly away to the other side of the room. “Sorry, I just –”

“It’s fine, love,” he replies stiffly, placing the plate on the table. “As I said, the brig is no place for you to sleep.”

“Thanks –” Emma starts, but Hook is already backing away from her.

“Goodnight, Mistress Swan. Sleep well.”

And, with that, he’s gone, closing the door firmly behind him, his footsteps loud and echoing as he marches away.

Emma stares at the closed door, a swoosh of loneliness overcoming her. Here she is, in Hook’s cabin, on a ship where he doesn’t know her, where she’s nothing but a fugitive in a world where no one else knows her either. The exhaustion from the day, from the spell that drained her magic, truly starts to hit her now.

She returns to the bed, and trying her best to ignore the longing ache in her chest, Emma pulls the covers high, breathing in the familiar scent of the sheets and blankets, and falls asleep.

xxxx

The next days are amongst the strangest in Hook’s life. The witch – Emma, he reminds himself sternly – has been aboard his ship for only a handful of days, but she might as well have been here her entire life.

He had expected her to sequester herself in his cabin, wary of the suspicious pirates, but instead she’s been on deck most of the time, walking around the ship as if she owns it. The crew keep their distance from her, satisfied with their captain’s explanation that she has information of value in the hunt for Rumplestiltskin but with no desire to spend more time than necessary with her. After all, to them, they view her as nothing more than the witch who had appeared on their ship out of nowhere.

Emma seems unbothered by this, and she spends most of her time with him instead, apparently unafraid of either the hook at the end of his wrist or his reputation that sent her here in the first place.

At first, he’d been surprised by that, but that soon became the least of the surprises. To add to the unexpected behaviour, Emma treats him with her own sense of informality and familiarity that compounds his sensibilities. He’d first noticed it the day she arrived, when she’d settled herself in his bed like she belonged there, and then again when she began marching around the ship as if she’d done it a thousand times before.

She’ll say things out of the blue that catch him so off guard it makes him pause and wonder how the hell she could know that or a teasing comment that only someone who knows him well would dare to say. Other times he catches her staring at him, a strange expression on her face, that she quickly tries to mask.

He thinks he may be losing his mind. In fact, he’s certain of it as, the more time he spends with her, the more familiar she seems to be to him. He knows he’s never met her before – he would remember that face, he’s sure – but there’s something strangely familiar about her, something magnetic that draws him in and makes him doubt his own mind.

Every time he is around her, his skin prickles with a sense of déjà vu. A knowing smirk, a teasing lilt to her voice, a warm hand on his arm – all things that feel intimately familiar, as if he’s experienced it all and more. A strange vision of seeing her blonde hair whip in the wind on this ship before, of seeing her seated casually at his dining table in his quarters, of hearing the sound of her laugh before. It’s maddeningly frustrating, and try as he might, he cannot place where he may have met her before.

One night, after a fruitless attempt to sleep amongst the snores of the crew in their hammocks and quarters, Hook stands on the deck in the middle of the night, his mind troubled. Tonight, not only is his mind twisted with thoughts of Emma and wondering who she really is, he also can’t seem to shake the fact that she knows the Dark One.

Could that be why she knows so much about him, why she seems familiar? Perhaps that is why he feels like he has known her before, maybe in one of his many schemes to find the Dark One, he has met her before.

Truly, he thinks, he must be losing his mind.

All he knows is that ever since Emma said his name, since she vowed to help him find the Dark One in exchange for her son, his mind has been as turbulent as the rough seas. The promise of finally finding the Dark One is like dangling a carrot in front of a hungry horse, or (more appropriate to his case) throwing a life raft to a drowning man. The final key to the quest that has haunted him for centuries, the end goal to all his suffering and misery.

Though he’s cautious about getting his hopes up; he’s been burned too many times before. How can he trust the word of this woman, who knows his true name, who claims to have learned it from the Dark One? Perhaps she’s a former apprentice of the Dark One, bitter and spurned by an inevitable betrayal, willing to betray her former master to Hook in a version of her own revenge? Or perhaps an equally powerful witch who wants one up on the Dark One for whatever offence he caused her? Or maybe he’s the one who sent her son away to the Evil Queen, and now this is Emma’s revenge for that instead?

If attempting to save her son from the Evil Queen doesn’t kill him, he’s starting to think the madness of trying to sort out just who exactly this Emma Swan is may do it instead.

And then, as if summoned by his thoughts, the hatch leading down to belowdecks opens and a figure emerges onto the dark deck. Emma, wrapped in the blanket from his bed, straightens, a silhouetted shadow illuminated by the lantern in her hand against the darkness of the deck, and Hook can’t help let a chuckle escape.

Of course, she’s here now too.

He clears his throat to get her attention, and she starts, whirling around dramatically. She relaxes when she realizes it’s him, and heads towards him.

“You’re up late,” she calls out, joining him on the upper deck. She sets the lantern down, casting an amber light around them, and she leans against the railing beside him, their arms brushing.

“Could say the same about you,” he replies, pulling away from her slightly if only to clear his own mind. Just another example of her informality to add to his list …

Emma doesn’t seem to notice, shrugging as she pulls the blanket around herself tighter. “Can’t sleep,” she says simply.

He nods absently, thinking back to his own pointless tossing and turning. “I know how you feel.”

She casts him a knowing look. “I bet you do.”

Another one of her strange comments. He frowns, and they lapse into silence then for a long while, the glimmering lantern light flickering with the rocking of the ship against the waves.

From the corner of his eye, he watches her. She’s stoic, her brow pinched in a frown, and is gazing down at the dark ocean with an unreadable expression.

He’s curious about her, about this witch who knows Rumplestiltskin and has a child kidnapped by the Evil Queen. She’s nothing like he thought she would be when he first talked with her in the cell, where he saw only the powerful witch who knew too much and demanded too much. Against his better instincts, he wants to know more about her and her past. He nearly begins to question her, but then changes his mind.

Now, looking at her in the glow of the lantern, he knows it’s not the time. Instead of the powerful witch who may be connected to some of the darkest figures of magic, right now, she looks like nothing more than a tired and stressed mother.

“Worried about your son?” he asks gently.

Emma sighs, and nods. “I hope he’s okay. He – he’s only a kid. He doesn’t deserve all this crap that keeps happening to him.”

“What did happen? I mean, how did he come to be taken?”

Emma tenses. “Uh, it’s complicated. I – uh … well, I suppose it’s my fault, really.”

He frowns, not expecting that answer. “How so?”

“I – well, I guess I cast a spell that got him into this situation. I didn’t mean to,” she adds, a touch of defensiveness rising to her voice at Hook’s raised eyebrow. “I – I can’t always control my magic. I was looking at something, and it turns out it was – it was some sort of spell, and it caused this whole mess.”

He frowns. She’s speaking out of the side of her mouth, vague enough that Hook has no idea what she’s really talking about. But he decides against questioning her – as long as she keeps her end of the bargain after they rescue her son, she can keep her secrets. Whatever she did, it’s apparent she’s torturing herself over it.

“It sounds like it was an accident,” Hook murmurs, and Emma glances over to him. “I’m sure your son will understand.”

She regards him quietly, her eyes unreadable and dark in the dim light. “I hope so,” she says, after a long while of silence. “I hope everyone I … affected with this spell will forgive me.”

She says it meaningfully, as if there’s some message within her words, but again, Hook frowns, confused. She smiles sadly, and shakes her head briefly, pulling away from the railing. She pats his arm, and tugs the blanket tighter around herself once more.

“Goodnight, Hook.”

“Goodnight, Emma.”

He watches her retreat to the cabin belowdecks, the lantern light winking out as the hatch door shuts, leaving him in the dark of the night, now more confused than ever.

xxxx

Several days later, after another few days of confusion and madness, the ship turns from the open waters and towards a small seaside town, emerging slowly from the morning fog coating the shoreline. With another four days of sailing to get to the Evil Queen’s fortress, they need more supplies to make it there.

Hook joins the crew in securing the sails as they get closer to the small town. They’re about to make port when Emma emerges from below deck, dressed hastily and haphazardly. She hurries towards him, her hands dropping to her hips as she approaches, and Hook is struck by the sight of her, emerging from his cabin in his black shirt, hair a mess.

“We’re stopping?”

He looks back to the rope he was tying, and focuses firmly on it instead of her. “Aye. We need more supplies before we continue on into the Queen’s territory.” He chances a glance back to her, and can’t help but grin teasingly. “Another mouth to feed drains our supplies quicker, you know.”

Emma rolls her eyes, though her mouth ticks up in half a smile. “How long will you be gone?”

“A few hours at most.” He finishes tying the rope, and straightens, wiping at the sweat on his brow. Emma looks tense, rubbing absently at her arms, and he adds, more gently, “I know you’re anxious for your son, but we do have to stop and replenish our supplies.”

She remains troubled, but nods in understanding. “Okay.”

She moves to leave, but Hook steps forward, blocking her path and grasping her forearm, brow furrowing. “You’re not a prisoner, love. You can come too.” He pauses, considering, and then adds, “I won’t leave without you, if that’s what you’re worried about.”

She hesitates, glancing out to the approaching town, emerging from the fog to be a small cluster of thatched roof buildings and fishing boats. Something crosses over her expression, her brow furrowing briefly in worry, before she shakes her head.

“No, I know you won’t leave. But I’m going to stay here.”

Hook wants to press her for more information, wondering what has made her worried, but instead he nods, releasing her forearm and stepping back.

“As you wish.”

Emma smiles strangely at that, and quickly excuses herself from his presence. He loses track of her in the business of making port, and when they are docked and secured, Hook leads the majority of the crew down the rickety docks into the quaint town square, while several of the crew remain behind to watch the ship. He has stopped here at this village before – a small town on the outskirts of the kingdom – and while the people here may have no love for pirates, they do have love for what Hook brings with him: gold, and plenty of it.

The crew disperse into the nooks and crannies of the town, off to fetch new supplies of fresh water and food, while Hook wanders further into the village. His stomach growls as he passes by a bakery, but he forges on. He’s on a mission – after seeing Emma, tousled hair and dressed in his clothing, he’s decided she needs some of her own clothing.

The last thing he needs is something else adding to his growing confusion and disconcertment regarding her.

At the end of the lane is a small seamstress shop, small but stuffed with swarths of fabric and ribbons. A small bell tinkles over the entrance as the door swings open, and the woman behind the counter straightens when Hook enters, her eyes widening in surprise.

“Can – can I help you?”

“Yes,” he says, briskly, and requests her to bring some of her pre-made garments out for him to look at. There only a handful; most requiring accurate measurements from the individual in question to be sewn, and he frowns, considering them.

“For your lady, sir?” the woman asks innocently, and Hook glances sharply to her.

“Uh,” he starts, and then decides to just go with it, because explaining that no, actually, this clothing is for the witch who appeared on his ship and promised to take him to an immortal demon, is something he’d rather not do. “Yes.”

He chooses two of the dresses, one beige and one maroon, as well as a pair of soft cowhide pants and a white blouse. They look to be Emma’s size, or at least something she can made do with so he pays the woman and leaves with the clothing bundled under his arm.

As he’s strolling back down the lane, whistling to himself absently, a large pin-board near a cluster of taverns draws his attention, cluttered with flyers and posters. Habit draws him closer; sometimes there are bounties posted here, for pirates like himself, and he always likes to check in on these, to get a sense of what law enforcement is onto him.

This time, however, it’s not a bounty that catches his eye. In the centre of the board is a large WANTED poster, and he stops dead in his tracks, gaping. The blood drains from his face, as he stares back at the WANTED poster, at the very face of the same woman aboard his ship right now.

#captain swan #ouat #cs ff #now up to 3 parts!#fic: the art of summoning

46 notes · View notes

mor-beck-more-problems · 4 years

Text

Phancy Pheromones || Morgan & Jeff

Before Miriam, before the endless night, Morgan went to Dell’s Tavern...

(pheromones were released, but no witches are harmed in the writing of this chatzy)

Morgan’s face was starting to ache from smiling at the woman in front of her, and not in a good way. Sure, she had a star-crossed not-girlfriend she would much rather be with, but that wasn’t happening at the moment. So to ease her sanity, or at least to feel less like a pining damsel, Morgan continued to swipe and chat and on occasion, even meet. Unfortunately, the meeting part tended to implode.

Morgan’s date, a barely thirty admin assistant from the university with bright curls, seemed to be feeling the foreshocks for how the night was going as well. She kept checking her phone and when, at last, it sprang to life to the tune of the FRIENDS theme, she took the call faster than Morgan could say, “No worries! Do what you need to!” When she excused herself early a minute later, Morgan let her go with the lightest, most pitiful of hugs, and turned back to her margarita, ready to dunk her face right in. Maybe she was self-sabotaging, she thought glumly. Or maybe the universe really needed to remind her that, yep, still one hundred percent cursed.

She waved at the bartender. “Hey,” she said, not even hiding her pout. “Another one please?”

Jeff had watched the failing date a little painfully. He had seen it before, and he certainly would see it again, but the second hand embarrassment was always hard to watch. He was happy, though, that it at least didn’t seem like he was going to have to step in and throw anyone out. There had been far too many ‘blink twice if you need help’ or the ‘special drink order’ in his life time. He watched as the woman took a call and as he expected, dipped out as fast as humanly possible.

He had already been making the woman another margarita before he’d been waved down for one. Jeff was not a smart man, but he knew. He placed it down in front of her, and leaned on the bar, looking at her out with a grin. “Bad night?” he asked. “That’s alright, but maybe we should be a little careful with the margs, yeah? I’m Jeff.”

Morgan welcomed the margarita with a dejected sigh and began to slurp straight from the sugar rim. “Was it that obvious?” She said, lifting her eyes to the bartender. He was one of those big, stupidly chiseled types, the kind that probably moonlit as actors or bouncers and got the best tips from sad moms who liked men. But he seemed kind, and his name lit something in the back of her mind. “Jeeeff…” It was a little name, but that big slurp of margarita made it hard to finish. “Are you Jeff with the dog Jeff? Wait, like fa--” She stopped herself and covered her drink with her hand while her brain sloshed back into the right position. “We maybe talked online Jeff. Which would be making meeting you so great if I was less of a mess right now.”

He gave her a wary smile. “Only a little. I’ve seen much fuckin’ worse, let me tell you. Before you two came in, one couple threw their drinks on each other and I had to toss them out. Totally fucking public and embarrassing.” It was true, someone had been filming. But he left that out as she said his name, and he brightened slightly when it looked like they actually knew each other. Or, well, he had talked about his dog with her, at least. “No shit?” Jeff asked. “I have a dog. Lettie. She’s a mastiff.” He grinned widely at her. “Ah, don’t fucking worry about it, no big deal. What’s your name. I talk a lot about Lettie, you know.”

Morgan smirked, a little prolonged by all the syrupy mix and tequila. “Lettie! That’s her name. I have a pet too, she goes on walks, but she’s a cat. Oh, but me. I’m Morgan,” She said. “Morgan Beck. I sell rocks to people who don’t know better and teach frat boys to like reading. You told me about your coin and about your umm…” She gestured clumsily around her back. “But like not really? You’re a very nice Jeff, but you’re also very obvious. I still bet they’re really cool though.” Brain sloshed back enough into place, she took a sip from the straw, smiling at him with her bright blue eyes.

“Morgan!” Jeff said enthusiastically. “You helped me with my fuckin’ mime problem! The coin shit worked. With the coin.” He was still going to go find that stupid ass mime and beat the shit out of it, though. For Lettie. His eyebrows furrowed slightly when she gestured to her back, unsure what she meant, before his eyes widened. “Oh fuck,” he said, leaning in slightly and lowering his voice. “You figured out I have…. Well, you know.” Jeff shrugged slightly, wincing. “We can’t, uh, fucking tell people about that. Wait. How do you know about wings? Are you a fairy?”

“JEFF!” Morgan put out a hand on his face to shush him. And in that moment of contact, she realized even his beard was ridiculously perfect, like, better product than what she used perfect. “This is you being obvious! I’m two margaritas deep and I’m not even using the...F word. And don’t your people hate that word anyway?” She looked at him incredulously, shaking her head. She took back her hand, trying not to be too obvious about giving it a sniff. Jeff’s product smell or maybe Jeff smell was...really good. “Jeff, you gotta be more careful than that. You’re way too pretty to get Warden’d-d…” Morgan waved the word away. She was confident enough he got the point.

“MORGAN!” He responded instantly, almost jumping from the sudden contact. “Ah -” Fuck. Humans and their damn body heat. Jeff was glad he had fed before this otherwise he’d be tempted to take some from Morgan. He didn’t like feeding off people he knew. At least, well, not anymore. He shook it off. “Oblivious? That’s not - oh. Yeah. Fuck, I forgot again.” He frowned. Deirdre was going to be disappointed. “I’m a little new. Sort of. And I don’t get what the big fucking deal is, it’s just a - oh. You know about Wardens?” Jeff frowned, rubbing the back of his neck slightly. “I know about Warden’s alright, don’t fuckin’ worry. They killed my father. I’m up to speed.”

“Ob-vi-ous,” Morgan sounded out the word gently, although she was no longer confident about which one she had actually said. She wondered if by ‘new’ Jeff meant that whatever he was had been freshly activated, wings and all, but it seemed rude to ask in a busy bar. “Words have power,” she said, nursing her straw some more, eyes still fixed on Jeff. He had the brightest eyes, like little blue lanterns. “But you can reclaim things for yourself, that’s a real thing,” There was a very clever and very helpful speech to accompany that, but it fell out of Morgan’s head as Jeff frowned (it was a very pretty frown) and mentioned his father. “Oh, Jeff! I’m so sorry, that’s horrible! Did someone kill them for doing it? I probably can’t do it, but someone should. Could I do something to make you feel better instead?”

Jeff looked at Morgan a little doubtfully. He wasn’t even a real fae - well, he was, and he had the fucking wings and iron allergy to prove it. But he missed the memo where they were supposed to be better than everyone else. “I don’t think so,” he said with a shrug. “I’m supposed to remember so my fair- fae friend doesn’t get upset.” He though that was a good explanation as he looked back at Morgan, before his eyebrows shot up. “Kill them? The wardens? Fuck if I know. I was only called in to identify his body - asshole listed me as next of kin or something. We weren’t closed. You don’t have to - I mean, that’s kind of fuckin’, you know, murder.” Jeff said, thinking on it. He didn’t think the rules were the same for humans, and he wasn’t especially sympathetic to people that would murder his father just because he was Fae. Maybe murder was the right answer. He shrugged it off. “You know what would make me feel better?” He said, realized that Morgan was a little sloshed. “If you let me get you a glass of water.”

“Equivalent exchange, Jeff,” Morgan said with fond patience. “And it’s different when you’re doing it for payback, or to protect someone, even if that someone’s you. There’s probably other good reasons, but I can’t think of them right now.” She laughed again, encouraging Jeff to smile. Jeff really should smile more. Morgan propped herself up on her elbows as he mentioned something to make him feel better. She looked at him eagerly. “Water! Because I’m this close to being sorority girl drunk, right? Aw, Jeff, you’re so sweet! For you, yes, I will have water. So much water. A whole pitcher if you want me to!”

“You can’t think of them because you’re drunk,” Jeff informed her, with a wry grin. He probably should have been more annoyed, but he wasn’t. He liked Morgan, she was clearly a sweet woman and wanted what was best for not only him but for others. He hoped that the shitty world would be kind to her and give her a better date the next time she went out. He held up one finger to her, to tell her to wait a second while he grabbed a glass and filled it with ice water. “If you were a drunk sorotiy girl, I’d make fuckin’ Marty deal with you. You’re my friend. Why don’t we try one glass, for now, and then we can call you a car. I’m sorry, but I need your keys too.” Jeff said sheepishly, putting the glass in front of her.

“One glass? That’s easy.” Morgan took it in hand and started to chug. She was halfway through when Jeff asked for her keys. She put the glass down with a pout and fished the keys out of her pockets. “But I love my car! Will you take good care of her? She’s the prettiest thing I’ve ever had. Like crazy pretty, like the girl that gave it to me. It’s a Subaru.” She plopped them into his hand with a sigh. “Do you have a pretty car, Jeff?”

“Oh! Hey! Don’t chug, it’ll upset your fucking stomach!” Jeff said, quickly, shaking his head, but he relaxed when he safely took her keys from her. “Your car will be safe, I’m sure it’s very pretty, don’t worry. Your Subaru is safe with the bar, they won’t tow - ” Jeff stopped slightly, eyes narrowing as he looked at her. Girl that gave it to her. She was on a date a girl. Subaru. Jeff had been pretty sure Morgan was giving him the drunk cow eyes a half second ago, before he realized something. He hadn’t been paying attention to his fucking pheromones. He cursed, and leaned forward. “Morgan,” he said, carefully. “Look at me a sec. You, uh…. How are you feeling right now?”

Morgan moved down to a sip at Jeff’s insistence. Anything to make that big guy happy. She even made a show of it, holding the glass up for him to see. “Ooh, me? I’m feeling great! I’ve had so much tequila I’m not even sad anymore, and I have you! Sweet, pretty friend Jeff!” She blinked at him, lashes fluttering coyly. “And how are you feeling, Jeff? Are you feeling better yet? Because we can keep working at this if you’re not.”

Jeff stared at her a moment, before cursing again, running a hand down his face. She was definitely fucking pheromoned. Pheromones mixed with alcohol… Not great. He glanced at the clock behind him, and around the bar. It was quieting down too. Marty could survive a half hour without him. “Morgan,” he said, carefully, lowering his voice. “Fuckin’ look at me a sec - uh - you know what a Gancanagh is?” He asked. And then, “Nevermind, you’re drunk, I accidentally fucking gor you with my pheromones. I need to take you home.”

“A gang-a-roo-huh? Is this a, you know, the f word thing?” Morgan asked. She gasped. “Are you telling me your species?” She whispered, badly. “That’s so sweet! Jeff, I don’t even know how to pay you back for something like that.” She arched a brow, laughing. “Take me home? Seriously? You know, I’m usually way too gay for this, but you’re just like--the man, Jeff. If you’re in, I’m in.”

“Fuck me,” Jeff groaned, running his hands down his face. His fellow bartender glanced over, and Jeff just waved him off. “Marty, I gotta take this ‘ne home. I’ll be back to help you close up.” Technically, he was head bartender. He could do what he wanted. And Marty wasn’t an idiot, he trusted him. He looked back at Morgan. “Yes, I am,” he said, “Lower your fuckin’ voice - and don’t get any funny ideas. We’re not doing anything, I’m taking you home because I accidentally pheromoned you. Shhh, let’s go. I’ll drive your car home and take a car back.”

“Whatever you say, Jeff!” Morgan sing-songed. She slipped off her stool, clumsily. “You are the man, I’m just along for the ride.” She made her way around to the other side of the bar, legs shaking like a baby deer and braced herself on the end to meet him, smiling big. “But, you know, if you changed your mind, you could get to say you did it with a lesbian. And you’ll be nice to the pretty car, right? She’s fae-ry magical. You see what I did there?”

“No! No, stop that!” Jeff scolded, but he couldn't exactly be mad at her because this was his fucking fault. He almost groaned when she saw how she was walking, but he remembered his manners his mother taught him. He was going to have to help her to the car. Jeff held out his arm for her to grab. “Morgan, my friend, you will not be fucking saying that tomorrow. And also, you’re drunk,” he reminded her. “I did that. Very fuckin’ funny.” He started to very carefully lead her outside. “Subaru, right? What color?”

“No one says the same thing tomorrow,” Morgan said, feeling very clever in the moment. “Mm, yes, pherom-men-o-menomes. You’re gonna have to explain the details on that one later, and I trust you, because you’re Jeff! And it’s the red one! She’s perfect right? I love her, but ssshhh. You’re bad at keeping secrets Jeff, but sssshh. I trust you to do the thing though. You’re a good Jeff.”

“You might be right about that, but it’s different when - ah, why the fuck am I bothering,” Jeff muttered. He couldn’t believe he had done it again. It was different when he accidentally did it to the occasional too-drunk Karen, where he could shove them in an uber and feel a little bad about it later, but Morgan was his friend. “She is a nice car,” Jeff said, rounding to the passenger side to open the door for her. “What thing? We’re not doing any fuckin’ things. And yeah, I’ll explain when you have your head on straight tomorrow.”

“The thing thing!” Morgan said. She plopped into her seat and fumbled with the buckle and ran her hands fondly over the upholstery. “The um…” It was slipping out of her brain again, like so much margarita mix over the rim of a glass. “Well whatever it is, you got it just fine, because you’re the best, you know? Oh, but hey, can you um--?” She held the buckle over her eye, like an alder stone. “I can’t make my hands do the thing. I can’t do a lot of things without making a mess but you got me for this one, right Jeff?”

“No, no!” Jeff said, having gone round to the driver's side. “No thing thing either!” He was assuming all things were sexual in nature until specified otherwise. Abso-fucking-lately not. He glanced over at her. “Your seat belt? Ah - it’s going to make it worse,” he muttered shaking his head. Still, safety first. He turned the car on, and gingerly reached over pulling the belt across her and clicking it into place. Then he adjusted the seat so he could drive more comfortably, and pulled out of her spot. “Alright, you tell me where to go now. When I get you home , you have to drink a lot of fuckin water, alright?”

“Aye, aye, Jeff!” Morgan said. She gave him her address and settled into the comfy seat, still fondly running her hands over the upholstery. She gave Jeff her address and let him walk her inside, where she promptly collapsed face down on the couch. It was after a massive jug of water had materialized at her side (had she peeled herself off the couch like Jeff asked? Had Jeff gotten it for her?) and after she accidentally turned on the TV by rolling on top of the remote wrong, that something cleared in her head. Something not quite the rapid intake of tequila she’d had. Morgan sat up on the couch. She looked to the door. Looked at the water jug. Looked to her car keys. “...Did I seriously hit on a guy??”

#wr jeff #wr chatzy #wr jeff chatzy #phancy pheromones

8 notes · View notes

kimvvantae · 5 years

Text

Umbra; 12

➜ being ruled by an ancient commandment, your sole purpose is to serve. you were born to protect the king with your life, tied by an everlasting oath; you are nothing but a shadow, a silent and insignificant being. he appears to you like the sun, the warmest and brightest star in the sky, and gives you a chance to live. it is then that your entire universe starts to orbit around this sun, and you decide that you are truly willing to die for him.

pairing: King!Taehyung x (f) hybrid!reader

genre: royalty au, fantasy, angst

warnings: descriptions of violence, blood and death that might be triggering.

word count: 14k

A/N: here is the greatest umbra chapter so far to make up for the looong wait. as always, after finish reading you’re invited to stop by my inbox and let your opinions uwu enjoy!

➜ Chapters: check up masterlist in bio!

I stared at that strange woman in silence, completely shocked.

My mother?

I analyzed her features carefully. She was a dragon hybrid, there was no doubt of it. She was probably the oldest dragon I've ever seen; people from my race usually don't live long, for we either die serving our masters or giving birth. But that woman? Although her appearance did not indicate it clearly, I could feel that she has lived long. Two entire cycles, perhaps?

And her appearance…

Her hair color was slightly darker than mine. We were around the same height. Our skin color was the same…

I could see myself looking at her.

My mother?

Ehmerald stared at me with hopeful eyes.

But if she expected it to be a heartfelt meeting, she was wrong.

I could not forget the fact that she invaded my mind and kidnapped me - nor the fact that she was the apparent leader of a rebellion that just attacked the Capital with evil energy. We had no emotional connection. I never wished to know anything about my parents, and I lived my life very well alone. She couldn't just expect me to cry, hug her and call her mom.

My expression turned into stone.

“The entire truth?” I said, voice as cold as ice. “Then where am I?”

“Inside the Baïkarh forest,” Ehmeral was quick to reply. “This is the base of our organization.”

I looked around again. There were many hybrids, and my sharp ears could hear more voices throughout the forest - thousands of people. They were quite smart. The Baïkarh forest is almost impenetrable, for it is protected by trolls and dryads, spirits of the trees. But how did they manage to convince these spirits to let them settle here? As far as I knew, spirits of the forest are holy and pure, they would never let these murderers in. Perhaps they managed to devoid all these beings as well? Just the thought of it made my blood boil in anger.

However, I couldn't just start a fight right here, although my instincts were begging me to do so. I was in the core of the rebellion and had to use this chance to know everything about them. That was the best opportunity I would ever have.

“Why did you bring me here?” I proceeded to ask, trying to control the anger on my voice.

“Because it was about time to let you know about everything,” Ehmerald said. “Jungkook told me about the things you did.”

I turned my head and glared at the rabbit-boy. He was still as pale as paper.

“He did?” I said, unable to control my aggressiveness.

Jungkook flinched.

“Don't blame him. Jungkook was just following my orders. Therefore, he did no harm to your friend; she is safe at the palace. As Jungkook already explained, he just used the bracelet to call your attention.”

“How long have you been observing me?” It was time to glare at her instead.

Ehmeral sighed. There were many mixed emotions on her eyes, but mostly joy and guilt. “It will be better if we talk with more privacy. All of you, back to work!”

The crowd around us started to dissolve, although with some hesitation.

“More privacy? Why should I go somewhere alone with you? You didn't hesitate to invade my mind, what else could you do?” I immediately stepped back, fists tightened.

“Y/N, I just did that because I needed you to be here. You wouldn't come willingly, would you? Moreover, I was not aggressive nor saw anything on your mind.” When Ehmerald noticed my body was still tense, she sighed. “I am not locking you here. You can go away if you want; none of us would be able to stop you anyway. Or… you can stay and listen to me.”

“And why would I do this?”

“Because I have the answers you want. I have the truth.”

I hesitated.

I have been wanting to know the truth for so long. I remembered about Taehyung's promise - he said he would tell me everything he knew. But… could I trust him?

Could I trust that woman?

The answer was clear in my mind: I could not trust anyone. And because of that, I decided to listen to her. I would listen to her version of the facts and his. Then, maybe I would know in which version to believe in.

Although Taehyung already had more credibility with me. That woman conjured obsidian soldiers and tried to kill him, someone I actually had an emotional connection with and cared about. Her, otherwise?

I exhaled to try to calm my nerves.

“And what truth would it be?” I finally asked.

Ehmerald seemed satisfied. She started to walk slowly away from the clearing, expecting me to follow her, and I had no other choice but do so. Everyone had obeyed her order, so we were considerably alone.

“The truth about our race. About our past. About the History of the world,” she started, voice serious. “The truth that they have been trying to hide for thousands of years.”

She stopped in front of a great rock in the middle of the forest and stared at it. I stared too, slightly confused.

“Tell me, Y/N,” for some reason, I didn't particularly like to hear her saying my name. “What do you know about the so called Dark Years?”

I furrowed. Where this conversation was leading me to? “It was the era when our race ruled. We… we almost annihilated mankind.”

“Well, this is a lie.”

I almost gasped.

“What?”

“Y/N, keep in mind that everything you know is a lie.” Ehmerald was way too serious and, for some reason, I felt my inner temperature decreasing. “That story they told you… about dragons being evil, elves coming to establish the peace and punish us - that is all a lie, a lie so well built that has been carried for millennia.”

She stepped up and passed her hand on the surface of the great rock. When she did it, I finally realized it was not a simple rock; it was actually the ruin of something old. A building, maybe?

The rock had some things written on it, along with drawings, so old that it was impressive that these drawings survived for such a long time. Some of the things written were in long forgotten languages, but after analyzing more carefully, I recognized the dragon language as well, what made me widen my eyes slightly.

“Magic is one of the most important aspects of the Universe,” Ehmerald started. “It keeps the balance and can be molded on our will. Humans and hybrids can learn magic, but us, dragons, are born with it inside of us. Because of this, our race was a part of the Council, millennia ago.”

Ehmerald pointed to the gravures on the surface of the rock. The drawings were old and unrealistic, but I recognized the form of dragon.

“We did not rule by ourselves. Dragons, elves, fairies and mermaids were part of the Council, for we were the only races naturally born with magic inside of us. The Council was formed because humans were always starting battles and wars, and it was necessary to settle peace in the world. The Council was supported and cherished. There were no divisions such as kingdoms, and the lives of millions were not put on the hands of a single man. They used to take decisions wisely. For a long time, the world lived in peace because of them.”

I analyzed the surface of the rock as she spoke. Written around the gravures were actually songs and poems cherishing the Council she was talking about. There were also many names… the names of the dragons which were part of this Council. Hundreds of names. For how long this Council existed?

“Each of the four races had one specific task. The dragons, as the strongest race, had the duty to protect. The elves were the wisest, so they were peacekeepers and would usually speak for the Council. Fairies took care of everything regarding nature. The mermaids which were part of the Council would make accords to keep the peace between the people of the land and the people of the sea.”

I felt goosebumps as she spoke… it was almost as if I could feel the soft breeze of ancient times caressing me. Voices whispering. I could almost hear conversations, people taking decisions. Laughter and cheers of thousands. Times of peace.

Why all of that felt somehow familiar, even though it was the first time I heard about it…?

“The world lived in peace for a long, long time. No wars, no poverty. The Council members were different from the Kings and Queens of our days; they worked for people, they were not saw as better or superior. Only the ones that proved to be honored and strong enough could bear the responsibility of being a Counselor.” Ehmerald had a faint smile on her lips. Perhaps she could feel the breeze of the past, just like me? “But… things started to change.”

Her smile vanished.

“Not everyone supported the Council… some of them wanted to possess properties. They did not accept to be equal as everyone else; they wanted to rule. They wanted to be better.” Ehmerald's hand dropped to her side, fist tight. “But to be better, they needed to be stronger than the four races… and this is when the dragons have fault.”

I blinked, confused. “What did they do?”

Ehmerald sighed. She pointed to a particular name on the rock - the last name on the list. Opal.

“This was the last dragon of the Council. She is our direct ancestor, our Mother.” Her voice sounded bitter. “One of these people that wanted to end the Council understood that they had to be stronger than us, dragons. And to do so, they needed to know our powers. Our language.” Ehmerald sighed. “This man was called Merlin.”

“What?!” I exclaimed, shocked. “Merlin?! But - he is a hero!”

“And for certain perspective he really is. Their hero, and our murderer.” I could hear the hatred on Ehmerald's voice, the deep crimson of her aura. “Merlin seduced Opal. The Council did not go against it; what problem a marriage between a dragon and a human could represent?” She scoffed. “They had many children. Half human, half dragon.”

“Dragon hybrids,” I whispered. So, that is what happened? I was always told that my race existed because dragons raped human women in the past…

“In those years, Merlin learned a lot about the dragons and our magic… until he mastered our language. Not only that; he was the first person to use magic in wrong ways. He was the first to absorb energy from Helheim. Merlin got so strong that no one could overpower him… not even Opal and other dragons.”

The breeze of the past suddenly got colder… a chilling cold. Instead of laughter, I heard screams of fear and pain.

“Merlin taught other humans and created an army of mages. Their first step was to kill all of the dragons in the Council. They were the strongest, so without the dragons, it was easy to completely destroy the Council. They settled a new government, separating the continent in five parts; the Five Great Kingdoms of our days. But it was not easy. Many wanted to be rulers too, so that is when the First War of the Clans happened. The world was drowned in battles again.” Ehmerald crossed her arms, her eyes still glued on the rock. “After the five clans managed to win the war and take control of the kingdoms, it was time for the second step.”

“And what it was?” It was quite a stupid question, for I already knew the answer.

“Annihilation. Genocide.” The atmosphere felt even colder now. “The first race to disappear was the fairies. They were completely extinct. It would be unwise to try to kill the mermaids, because they are too many, so a war happened between land and sea. In result, the mermaids undid all the accords and decided to isolate themselves deep in the oceans; as long as they didn't intervene on the issues of the land, they would not represent any danger. The elves… they couldn't be killed. So, instead, Merlin and his people found a way to lock them back in Alfheim.”

“They didn't ascend on their free will…?”

“No. They were expelled from Earth. The elves were victims, just like us. And the dragons…” Ehmerald hesitated before continuing. “They were hunted until the last one of them was killed. What lasted was Opal's children… and this is when our curse begins.

“These new Kings and Queens wouldn't be so easily obeyed if the world knew about the genocide they promoted. Loved leaders are more respected than feared ones. They started to spread all the lies we know today, lies that took thousands of years to be made, so well made and believed that many don't even question them. They put the dragons on the role of villains. They made everyone believe that elves were deities, beings similar to gods, when in fact they were just another race that suffered. The good elves ended the Dark Years in which the bad dragons ruled. They got rid of all the evidence of the truth; books, temples and old buildings, the songs and poems people used to sing. In the meanwhile, hybrids were put as unholy beings, inferior to humans. And us, dragon hybrids… we were still too powerful to be killed. We were still useful. We were put in the 'holy role’ of guardians.”

I felt as if the ground was slowly crumbling under my feet.

“Why?” I whispered weakly.

“To have us under their power. To make us submissive. They made us believe that our ancestors were murderers, that we were dirty with innocent blood. They indoctrinated us so deeply that many of us died in the name of Kings, treated like slaves… no, treated like animals.”

Ehmerald looked at me in the eye, and I could see the hatred on her eyes.

“We were the guardians of the world, but they made us believe that we are nothing but shadows.”

Her sentence felt like a blow in the stomach.

For a moment, I felt dizzy. I didn't know what to do with all this information. It meant that… my entire life was a simple lie? I have been used? Not only me; all of my brothers and sisters.

I remembered all of the punishments, all the humiliation. I always believed that my role as a guardian was an honor. I always believed that I deserved all the suffering because my ancestors were monsters and I was a monster myself. I thought that I didn't have rights, that I didn't deserve recognition, that I couldn't let myself have bonds with people and care about them. I believed that a dragon hybrid does not deserve any happiness. God, I was willing to be sacrificed when King Taejun died…

All because of a lie?

A part of me still struggled. Why should I believe this woman anyway? She could be just lying to me. But something deep inside of me felt the pain of her words… something ancient and caged. Something that awakened that day, when Taehyung offered me a chance and I took a decision for the first time in my life.

It was the pain of my ancestors.

These voices I heard in the back of my mind sometimes were not mine. They were of my ancestors, trying to whisper the truth. Trying to make me understand.

She wasn't lying.

“Although the lie was spread, they couldn't hide the truth from everyone. They forgot to destroy things like this,” Ehmerald said, pointing fo the rock in front of us. “There are still some proofs hidden. Documents. Stories going from generation to generation. But they know about it, too, and they try to shut our voices so the truth will keep unsaid. Many have died because of it.”

I suddenly remembered of what Jungkook told me - his entire village was burned down… he said his parents used to tell stories about the dragons. So, they were killed because they knew the truth…

“I… I was not like you,” Ehmerald's voice was quieter now. “I was not trained to be a guardian. My only duty was to procreate. Just like all the rest of us, I thought it was a sacred duty. I did not understand that what they were doing to me was not right… however, it took me a long time to get pregnant. I did not impregnate when I reached my full dragon adulthood. So, during most of my life, instead of getting rid of me, they decided to keep me as a healer in Niflheim.”

“What? But… the probability of dying when you impregnate after the adulthood is too high,” I said, eyeing her suspiciously.

“I thought it was true, too. But I worked as a healer at Niflheim and started to notice something wrong. I helped so many women to give birth… all of them were perfectly healthy, during their entire pregnancy and after they give birth. But when they told me to leave the room…” Ehmerald closed her eyes for a moment, having bad memories. “They would always tell me to leave the room. And when I came back… they would be dead. Always. Not even one of them survived. How could it be right?” She shook her head slightly. “This is just a stupid excuse. Women are naturally stronger than men because we are born to bear the pain of carrying a child. How could these dragons die that way? I just found out the truth when I got pregnant.” She then smiled and looked at me.

“Who… who is my father?” I asked hesitantly.

“His name was Jaejoong. He was Athena's dragon-guardian.”

My blood went cold.

No.

“J-Jaejoong?”

Ehmerald nodded softly. She had a faint smile on her lips - and because of that, slowly, I felt as if a knife was being buried in my heart. “It… it wasn't supposed to happen. I should impregnate from another man. But Jaejoong…” she chuckled softly. “He was far from being sweet, but he cared about me. Jaejoong was the strongest guardian of his generation. It simply happened.”

I knew it. I knew he was the strongest of his generation.

I tried to control my nerves once again.

“That’s when things started to change, Y/N. I should not feel anything towards you; I was just 'accomplishing my duty’. But I already loved you. I was not supposed to love, but I did. And I finally realized how wrong things were the night you were born.” Ehmerald stared at me again. “Do you have any idea of how special you are?” I frowned. Honestly, I didn't know what to expect anymore. “Y/N, you were born during a Red Moon. I am sure you know what this means.”

Yes, I knew.

A Red Moon is a rare astronomical phenomenon. During a Red Moon, magic becomes stronger.

“I was sure everything with me was fine. I had a normal and healthy pregnancy. But, when you were born… I finally found out. All those women were killed after giving birth. It is their way to control our race, to make sure only few of us will live. They make women give birth and they kill us afterwards so we won't make too many children. And they tried to kill me, Y/N, but I managed to escape. But I was too weak… I was severely hurt. Even today, I am not fully healed of the injury. I am not as strong as I should.”

“And you left me behind.” I said, and I couldn't hide the pain in my voice anymore. “Why did you leave me there? Why did you leave me to suffer, to believe I was nothing but a shadow?”

In that moment, Ehmerald's eyes were filled with tears. She approached one step. “And I will always regret this, my child. But… I did not know you were alive. You are a female born during a Red Moon. You are too powerful. All these years, I… I thought they have killed you the day you were born, and all these years I thought it was my fault, because I was not strong enough to save you.”

Ehmerald gulped, dried her tears.

“I… spent days wandering through Baïkarh about to die. But the dryads helped me. They took me to this place, the rebellion, and they took care of me. They told me the truth. Since then, I have been working. I am the leader of the rebellion today, but I was not the one who created it. This rebellion exists for more than one hundred years now, but it has never been so strong because of all of our efforts. We spreaded the truth; we told hybrids that they are not inferior, we gave them hope. We have an army of more than twenty thousand now; some are here, some are in disguise inside cities. After all these years, we can finally free hybrids. We can avenge our ancestors.”

When Ehmerald looked at me with that gleam on her eyes, I knew something bad was about to come.

“And that's when you become important,” she stepped closer to me. “Our people has been mistreated for centuries. The best way to restore peace is to establish the Council again. Only during that time we had peace and justice. And in order to make this-”

“You need to kill the King.” I interrupted her.

Ehmerald just nodded.

“The Kim Dinasty has been the cruelest ever since they took the throne. It is about time to take the power out of them and give it back to the rightful owner.”

“For who? You?” I couldn't help but scoff. “I heard about your plans. You are the chosen one, isn't it?”

“No. You are.”

I was about to say something, but as I heard those words my mind went blank.

“What?!”

“It used to be me, but it was before I knew you were still alive,” I could see that Ehmerald was choosing her words carefully. “We don't want monarchies anymore. Enough of Kings and Queens. Unfortunately, fairies are extinct and the elves are far from our reach, but we still exist. During that time, they would choose the strongest of the dragons to fulfill the role of a Counselor… and it currently is you. You are a well trained female. You were born during a Red Moon. The strongest of our ancestors were also born during Red Moons… Y/N, you are the chosen one.”

I could just stare at her, speechless.

Ehmerald must have saw it as a good sign, because her smile widened.

“I have been waiting for this moment ever since I found out you were still alive. My child, I heard about what you did… Jungkook told me how you stood for the hybrids at the palace. Not only that; we found some hybrid kids some hours ago. They said they were freed because of an angel… it was you, isn't it?” She looked at me with pure pride on her eyes. “You understand our situation. You are able to fight for all those who can't with your power. This entire army - they're all at your disposition. If you give them any order they will-”

“This is ridiculous.”

Ehmerald was taken aback. “W-What?”

“This is ridiculous,” I repeated, stepping away from her. My expression showed everything I felt: confusion, disbelief and revolt. “You want to put me as the leader of this… this Council? I'm not stupid. This is the same thing as a Queen.”

“But more members will be added as we restore the Council-”

“You don't even know me,” I interrupted her again. “This is the first time we meet. How can you just put me as a leader? You don't even know if I'm trustworthy. This is not how a leader should be chosen.” I scoffed again, unable to control the aggressiveness in my voice. “You just want to use me. Since you're not so powerful, you want to put me where you wanted to be. I'm just a puppet, another piece of your game. You just want to use me the same way I've been used my entire life.”

“Y/N, that's not true-”

“And how hypocrite can you be?!” It was my turn to speak. “You're saying how these humans from the past were cruel, killing the Council members using wicked energy, but then you do the same?! You tried to kill the King using obsidian soldiers… how many people you sacrificed to-”

“We didn't do it.”

I was found speechless again.

“Of course it was. The cursed rock, the shapeshifter and now the obsidian soldiers - it was all you.”

“Shapeshifter? What are you talking about?” Ehmerald frowned.

“The wolf that has been observing us-”

“Jungkook was my spy at Capital. He has been observing the King and you. Y/N, I don't know what you're talking about.”

I stood still there. Ehmerald really seemed confused.

“Stop pretending! You were also the person that attacked my mind that night. Who else could be powerful enough to attack me like that?!”

“Y/N, I understand that all this information is shocking, but I don't know what you're talking about. The only time I ever entered your mind was to knock you down, and I was only able to do it because you were severely weakened. And the obsidian soldiers - it is a mystery to us as much as it is to you. Do you really think I would sacrifice someone to conjure them? Do you think I would use the type of magic that condemned us millennia ago? I'm sure you can feel how my aura is free from any type of evil magic!”

Her question was almost useless, because I couldn't feel anything unnatural coming from her. No reminiscents of Helheim. She was clean.

If the rebellion was not behind the attack with obsidian soldiers… if the shapeshifter was not on their side….

Then who was it?

But I could not think of it at the moment. This rebellion didn't try yet, but they wanted to kill Taehyung - and this I could not forget.

“You are crazy. You're all crazy.” I said, stepping away from her. “Don't follow me.”

I turned around before she could say anything else, disappearing in the forest.

I don't know how much time it has passed.

The forest was damp and terribly hot, but I couldn't care about the temperature. I could see that it was evening, however I did not know how much time has passed since the attack. I doubted Jungkook would be able to carry me to Baïkahr so fast, so two days, probably?

My medallion has disappeared. Taehyung and everyone at the Capital must've had no clue of my whereabouts. My first instinct was to fly my way back to the Capital...

But, for some odd reason, I didn't.

I distanced myself from the rebellion's camp after walking hours through the forest. It was hard to localize myself inside Baïkarh; the natural magic of the forest is so intense that it makes your senses dizzy. I could even smell the faint scent of something similar to pollen in the air. There is a reason why people said that Baïkahr was the entry to Alfheim.

Many animals crossed my way, but none of them represented danger. Animals can feel what I am. Not only that; the spirits of the forest can feel who has bad intentions and who does not. Because of it, they let me in peace.

And if these spirits let the rebellion settle here… it meant that they also could not feel anything evil from them.

This made me think.

Everything Ehmerald told me was too overwhelming. It meant that the History of the world was a lie. It meant that… my sole existence was a lie. All the things I held onto, all the things I believed and fought for… it was all a lie.

Just lies.

They made me believe in lies. They made me think I was unworthy of respect and mercy, they made me think I should die for a man that never cared about me - because King Taejun never cared about me. The same way King Hugo did not care about Hoseok, and King Satoshi did not care about Yuta…

How many of us died during all these centuries? We died thinking that we deserved it. We lived our sad and painful lives thinking that men that did not care about us were the center of our Universes, the ones we should fight for. They killed innocent women. They punished us for simply existing - and we submissively thought that we deserved it.

And what she told me about my father. Jaejoong...

I've never been so enraged during my entire life.

It was deeper than rage. It was hatred.

As a hybrid, it was impossible to simply say I couldn't understand the rebellion after hearing the truth. The world deserved to know the truth; hybrids had to be freed. But what she said was still madness - the chosen one? I was nobody's leader.

And she still wanted to kill Taehyung.

I couldn't let that happen. Not because it was my duty, but because I had feelings for him. I knew Taehyung in a way that none of them did; he was different from his predecessors. He was fair and good and-

Or perhaps you're just being carried away by your feelings.

What if my perception was distorted because of my feelings for him? Taehyung was the first person that showed me some type of kindness - well, the first person after Yoongi and Chuu. What if he was someone I refused myself to see? Taehyung was always mysterious, always doing things I couldn't understand. But he said he would tell me the truth…

What truth?

What I still didn't know?

What should I do from now on? Go back to the palace… but what would I do then? Demand my answers and…? Keep being his guardian? I couldn't do that - not after everything. I refused to be a guardian anymore. But staying with this rebellion was also out of question. They wanted me as a leader, and this I couldn't be.

I sat in an old trunk and held my head. I felt so confused it made me dizzy. Too much information - it felt like someone threw a brick on my skull.

“What do I do?” I whispered to myself - a strangled cry, almost inaudible.

“Well, sitting here and complaining is not an option.”

I gasped and immediately lifted my head as I heard the voice, my hand instinctively searching for the hilt of the sword on my hip, just to remember I was disarmed.

But when I understood what was in front of me, I calmed down.

A dryad looked at me with crossed arms, leaning casually on her tree. She looked like a young human woman: incredibly beautiful, her long hair the color of soil, comfortable in her own skin even though she was completely naked. Her appearance could not fool me, though; I knew she was much older than it seemed, judging by the size of her tree. Her eyes reflected wisdom and some kind of evil playfulness.

(Dryads are known for fooling people by seducing them just for fun, so I could understand that evil playfulness).

“Why do you look surprised, drákon? I don't see powerful beings like you walking around my forest everyday. Of course I would want to talk a little,” she said, tilting her head to the side and smirking.

I straightened my posture. Drákon. It's been a very long time since I heard someone calling me like this. “What do you want?”

The dryad giggled. “Oh, there is no reason to be so suspicious of me. I don't play with females, even though you are very attractive. And, besides… I can see that your heart is already someone else's.”

Your heart is already someone else's.

My shoulders fell, and I felt my cheeks getting hot. It meant that… my heart was already Taehyung's?

“Gosh, I don't see a face like this in centuries. Are you suffering because of love?” The dryad giggled again, endeared. “It's okay, little one. Unfortunately, we can't choose who we fall for.”

“But I'd rather not fall for someone that might be my worst enemy,” I whispered weakly.

The dryad’s face softened. She sat by my side by the trunk; she smelled of the soil right after it rains and dew.

“We heard you talking to your mother,” she said softly, making me remember that this place was in fact full of dryads and this one was the only brave enough to appear.

“You spread the news very quickly,” I said sarcastically, what made her laugh.

“Of course. It's been some time since something interesting doesn't happen.” The dryad looked at me with seriousness on her eyes despite her faint smile. “You got to know the truth of the world. It is sure shocking.”

Silence fell over us for some seconds. “Do you remember the times of the Council?”

She nodded. “Yes. I was still just a bud, but I remember very well.” Her gaze was distant, eyes that saw ancient memories. “My sisters did not need to hide in Baïkarh back then; we were everywhere. The fairies would always stand up for us and protect us. These were good times.” She smiled softly. “Can you hear them?”

I could. Just like before, I heard distant laughters, female voices singing lightheartedly. I could almost see those female figures running around the trees, playing hide and seek, smiling and talking.

“After the fairies were killed, there was no one to fight for us. We are not strong creatures. Because of it, we were forced to live here in Baïkarh. This is the only place a dryad can live in peace… we have full control of the forest. No one can enter without our permission.”

“You confuse those who enter here to protect yourselves?” I questioned softly. She nodded.

“There are secrets here that no human or hybrid should know.”

“But you let the rebellion get inside. There are thousands of people now.”

“They respect the limits we demanded. Besides… if they want to establish the old way of things again, then there is no reason to be against them.”

“You support this?” I was quite shocked.

The dryad looked at me in the eye. Her serenity was so intense that I could even feel myself calming down slowly.

“I have lived many centuries already, little one. Perhaps when you reach my age you'll be able to understand me. I saw more suffering than happiness during my life, and I know how your race was the most punished. What they are trying to do might not be ideal, but it is the first time in more years than I can count that I saw something that can finally free us.”

“But… they are aiming to kill someone innocent. They are preparing for war. It's going to be a bloodbath either way.”

Of course - I did not know if Taehyung was really innocent, but a part of me held onto that wish tightly.

“Then you have to do something about it. You're the person that can see things from both perspectives. You can stop this war before it even starts.”

I took in her words.

The dryad leaned slightly closer to me.

“Can't you hear them, little one?” She whispered. “Can you hear their voices? These are your ancestors. They are watching you intently.”

Again - I could hear them. Their voices floating in the air around me. I could hear the echoes from millennia ago; somehow, although many centuries made us part, I was still connected to them.

“They are waiting,” she continued. “Because, after so long, someone is able to break the cycle. You can break the cycle. You can make things different. You can finally give some rest to your ancestors that have been suffering endlessly.”

We sat down in silence. I could hear the sounds of the forest - small animals running, birds chirping, insects flying or crawling, the wind touching the branches and leaves above. I could hear the voices. They were unsettled, angry.

They yelled for justice.

I nodded softly.

“I don't know exactly what to do,” I said quietly, “But I'll try to do something.”

The dryad smiled again. That playfulness was back. “Gosh! The last person I talked to was a young woman, too.”

I frowned. A human entering so deep in Baïkarh? “When was it?”

“I don't know,” she shrugged. “I am a tree, so yesterday for me might be ten years. She was in deep pain. Because of it, me and my sisters helped her.” she sighed, frowning her brows. “Sometimes I wonder what happened to her…”

I nodded softly, not really paying attention to what she was saying. It might be small, but talking to her made some things feel clearer inside of me.

“I have to go,” I got up from the trunk.

“You are young however wise, little one. Not only the ancestors, but also the living are counting on you. Me and my sisters give you our blessing.”

I bowed my head respectfully. “Thank you.” I was about to turn around, but stopped midway. “By the way, what's your name?”

She smiled and tilted her head. “It is Rubra, little one. Come back here any time. Although your heart is taken, we could still have some fun…”

Instead of falling to her charms, I turned around and started to walk again. Rubra was right. Complaining like a little kid would not take me anywhere.

It was time to do something.

It took me some more hours to find the rebellion's camp again.

As I approached and people started to notice me, they would immediately stop anything they were doing - forging weapons, cooking, running around with papers that looked like maps - to look at me. It still felt strange; I was not used to be the center of attention. Especially not this kind of attention. They looked at me with such respect…

Now, I could understand why Jungkook had that reaction when he realized I am a dragon. I could understand the things he told me; Jungkook for sure was expecting me to be a rebellious leader like Ehmerald… not a submissive guardian. But, like the angry and rebellious person he is, he couldn't explain things to me clearly, spitting all of his anger instead.

I wasn't angry at him anymore.

But Jungkook still didn't know it, because he literally flinched the moment he saw me approaching.

The young man widened his eyes, avoided my gaze. Everyone around us was suddenly silent, watching what was about to happen in expectation.

I looked around for a moment.

“Your sister,” Jungkook frowned in confusion when he heard me saying quietly but strongly. “Heejin. She is here, right?”

The rabbit-boy seemed surprised that I still remembered what he told me about himself and his sister's name. He nodded.

“Take me to her.”

Jungkook did it without complaints. He guided me through the camp - and, again, the people that crossed my way would stop to watch in silence.

After some more moments, Jungkook showed me a particular giant tree.

And there was a girl sitting, leaned on the trunk, rolled up in covers.

I would have guessed she was Jungkook's sister even if he hadn’t said anything; their resemblance was obvious. Same fair skin, same black hair, same dark-grey rabbit ears and even their eyes and lips had the same shape. Heejin was some years younger, though.

And she was… simply sitting there.

A blank expression, staring into nothing.

Jungkook approached her slowly, as if he was scared that if he moved too brusquely he would break her.

However, he was the one looking fragile.

“This is Heejin,” he said in a weak and quiet tone. The sadness and love on his eyes as he stared at his sister was heartbreaking.

I approached, too, and crouched down in front of her carefully. “How long has she been in this state?”

“Ever since I found her, one year ago,” he said. “She… she doesn't do anything. She doesn't speak, doesn't move, doesn't interact with anyone. We have to clean her and feed her. It's almost like-”

Jungkook choked on his own words, but I knew what his unsaid sentence would be. It's almost as if she's dead.

I sighed. Heejin's eyes were staring directly at me, but she wasn't seeing me. She didn't even blink. Expressionless, motionless.

Trapped inside her own mind.

Carefully, I place my hands on each side of her head.

“What are you doing?” Jungkook asked, confused and worried.

“Don't worry. I won't hurt her,” I reassured him before closing my eyes.

Her mind offered me almost no protection.

Shattered. Destroyed and hurt.

I pushed a little bit further-

A dark place. My steps echoed around me. It was endless - endless darkness. Pitch black.

I heard a sob.

Finally, I recognized the figure of a girl crying. She was hugging her own legs, sobbing uncontrollably. Small and fragile, hidden in the farthest corner of the mind.

Slowly, I crouched down and touched her shoulder.

She turned around, startled, her eyes wide. Tears still trickled down her puffy cheeks.

“W-Who are you?”

“I came to help you.” I tried to keep my voice as serene as possible, afraid to shatter her consciousness even more. “You've been suffering a lot.”

Heejin nodded weakly.

“There are people that can help you out there.”

She shook her head vehemently, grabbing her legs even tighter. “N-No. They will hurt m-me!”

“Nobody will hurt you, Heejin. You are safe. And your brother- he misses you.”

Heejin looked confused for a moment, but then she remembered. “J-Jungkook? Is he out there?”

I nodded encouragingly. “Yes. He is waiting for you… and he won't let anyone hurt you anymore.”

I saw her conflict. But the mention of her brother made a spark of hope glow on her eyes.

She nodded almost imperceptibly. “Okay.”

I smiled and placed my hand at the top of her head.

“Heejin. Wake up.”

I opened my eyes and retracted my arms.

For some moments, Heejin still looked the same.

But, slowly, her eyes focused.

She frowned. Blinked once, twice.

She looked around.

“Jungkook…?” She called quietly, voice hoarse, when their gazes crossed.

He was barely breathing.

I stepped backwards to give them some space. Jungkook's eyes were impossibly wide and glowing with tears. Slowly, a big smile - the biggest I've ever seen him opening - adorned his features until his eyes almost closed and two crystal tears trickled down his cheeks.

“Heejin!”

I felt myself smiling, too, as Jungkook embraced her small body in a tight hug; Heejin still looked confused, but hugged him back with her thin arms. He was really crying now, sobbing uncontrollably. How long this young man has been holding back these tears? How long he has been acting strong, trying to ignore his sadness and loneliness, wondering if he would ever talk to his only remaining family again? How long he has been holding onto bad feelings only?

Jungkook was finally letting it all out now - and this time, it was due happiness. I was seeing a glimpse of the real Jungkook: a kind-hearted man.

It also took me some moments to realize the small crowd gathered around us. They watched in awe, chatting between each other. “How did she do that?” “She awakened Jungkook's sister!”

“My child, how strong are you?”

I immediately stood up again and turned around as I heard Ehmerald - that strange woman that was still too hard for me to see as my mother. She had some hesitation on her gaze, but mostly admiration. I couldn't understand this woman that barely knew me but seemed to care about me so much…

“We've been trying to heal Heejin since Jungkook brought her… and you did it in the blink of an eye,” she said.

“I'm just helping a friend,” was all I said.

Ehmerald watched me in silence for some moments. “I'm surprised that you're back,” she said. I was aware that everyone around us went silent, paying attention to our conversation, and she was aware, too. “Did you think well about what we talked?”

“Yes.”

And that was true.

I did think well about it. About everything.

My entire life, I used to believe that my master - King Taejun - was my purpose in life. He was the reason I would wake up every morning. He was my sun, the center of my particular solar system. After he died, my sun became Taehyung.

But I have changed.

I was not just an insignificant planet wandering through the Universe, always needing a sun to orbit around. I finally understood.

Taehyung wasn't the center of my solar system…

I was.

But I was not the only important thing. In my particular solar system, there was my family - Yoongi and Chuu. There was Jungkook. There were my ancestors, waiting for me to finally free them from their suffering. There were all these people around me, all the hybrids, the ones I have learned to care about, the ones that, just like me, deserved freedom - deserved to know the truth.

There was Taehyung.

And there was still an endless Universe surrounding me, full of planets I didn't know and didn't understand yet. An entire Universe to be discovered.

Some things were still right. Being a guardian was indeed in my blood, just the way my ancestors were the guardians of the world. I wanted to protect and fight for what was right.

But I couldn't stay hidden in the shadows anymore.

I was not just a shadow.

I was my own sun.

“Will you accept our offer?” Ehmerald asked, hopeful. It seems that everyone else held their breaths, waiting for my answer in expectation.

I stared at Ehmerald right into her eyes.

“No.”

Everyone gasped in unison.

“What? But, Y/N- after everything I told you?” Ehmerald stuttered.

“I didn't say I wouldn't help,” I cut her, speaking louder so all of them could hear me. Silence reigned above the crowd again. “Someone once told me that if you have the power to change things yet you chose to do nothing, then the fault is also yours.”

I made sure to send a significant look to Jungkook. His puffy face was surprised as he heard me speak.

“So, yes, I will help. But it will be on my terms.”

Ehmerald seemed uneasy. “And what are your terms?”

“You want me to kill King Taehyung, and this I can't do.” Murmurs of disapproval crossed the air. Again, before Ehmerald could say something or their chatter became too loud, I walked at heavy steps to the center of the clearing where they could see me better.

“Listen well, all of you,” my voice echoed loud and clear. They immediately went quiet again. “You really think that killing a King will solve all of our problems? It won't. It will just lead us to a war.”

“We are ready to fight,” someone said, being accompanied by murmurs of agreement.

“But this is a war you can't win. Ëlv'en has the greatest army of the entire continent. Not only that; if a war really begins, Ëlv'en will call the allies. It is Vanaheim, Nidavellir, the Islands of the West and many more - and not to mention the Royal Mages. They usually don't get involved directly in conflicts, but if they do, then it's over. Do you really believe that twenty thousand men with no formal training will stand a chance against Ëlv'en and its allies? A war for you means suicide.”

The silence around me was morbid. Thick, almost palpable.

“Killing the King is out of question. Even if you kill the entire Royal Family, the military will take over and this you can't win.” I made sure to look right in the eye of the people around me. “Besides, what you're planning will lead nowhere, because what you want is revenge, not justice. Simply putting the blame in a single man without even knowing if it's really his fault is not fair. I am the only person here that actually knows the King, and I can say he is not the monster you all think he is.”

And I hope I am not defending him for nothing…

“And what do you plan to do?” Ehmerald was the only brave enough to ask.

“I will go back to the Capital. I won't tell anything about the rebellion or your location, and you won't make a move until I say otherwise. I might not be the leader you all expected me to be, but I am the only one that knows what we're dealing with - and I want freedom and justice as much as you do, but I believe that we can achieve it with no deaths. I just hope you can trust me for now.”

They looked at each other in silence.

I knew they had no reason to believe me at all, but I was right back them: they feared me. They respected me. The single fact that I am a dragon seemed to be enough for them.

But no one had no chance to say anything when a young man entered the clearing running, ignoring anyone around, breathless and with hurry covering his features.

“Lady Ehmerald, one of my ravens is seeing something…”

“Calm down, Hyunjin,” Ehmerald said, the boy finally stopping to recover his breathing. “Explain it properly.”

“Something happened in Athena,” he said. “There's a big commotion going on. The King's about to make an announcement.”

A cold shiver ran my spine.

Something told me bad news were coming…

“Show me,” Ehmerald ordered, and they immediately left the clearing at a rapid pace. I followed them, as well as many other hybrids.

We followed Hyunjin and Ehmerald until they stopped in front of something I didn't recognize immediately - a copper basin filled with a thin layer of water. Many people gathered around the basin, quieting down to hear whatever Hyunjin has to show us.

The boy closed his eyes, visibly calming down and relaxing his muscles.

He touched the thin layer of water with his fingertips.

At first, nothing happened - but the water fluttered. It took some moments until the images on the surface of the water became clear: an aerial view of the front square of Athena's Royal Palace. Hyunjin's raven view. We noticed when the bird landed somewhere near the palace.

The front square was crowded and it rained. The entire scenery seemed to be painted in a somber shade of grey. We saw it when the familiar face of King Hugo appeared at the front doors…

A face distorted with pure hatred.

“My subjects, I come in front of you now as my soul bleeds in pain.” King Hugo's deep and powerful voice echoed. It sounded distant to us, however I could imagine the impact his voice caused in all these people there. Just like his face, his voice overflowed anger and deep pain. “The Royal House is mourning. Today, my older daughter Serena, the heiress of Athena's throne, was found dead.”

A collective gasp - both in Athena and around me.

“My daughter was murdered,” he continued, his voice failing and husky. King Hugo indeed looked shattered in a way I've never saw before. “And we already know who are the culprits.”

Before he even spoke again, I already knew that something was extremely wrong.

“Ëlv'en sent a murderer to kill our princess!”

The collective gasp was even louder now.

“What?!” Ehmerald exclaimed.

“This is… this is wrong,” I stuttered. It couldn't be serious. “Ëlv'en has no reason to kill Athena's princess…”

“This was found woven in the murderer's clothes,” Hugo lifted his hand, showing Ëlv'en's military symbol in all directions, so everyone could see. The chatter between the subjects there became louder and angrier. “We accepted their Entourage here months ago. We offered them our hospitality and trust - but this is what they did! But this time, we won't accept their insolence. They have committed the worst of all crimes. This time, Ëlv'en will pay.

“I challenge King Taehyung for a combat.”

I almost couldn't breathe.

The crowd in Athena roared.

“We will be waiting for these cowards at the Colosseum until tomorrow's sunrise. If they don't show up, then it means war. It is time to end their supremacy over the continent; we won't bow down anymore. If we win the combat, then King Taehyung and the entire Kim House will have to die. Ëlv'en has awakened their worst nightmare! They asked for war - and war they will have!”

The crowd roared louder than ever.

Hyunjin almost passed out, exhausted. The image dissipated from the water.

“You did well, Hyunjin.” Ehmerald said, patting the boy's shoulder. “Now, go and rest.”

Everyone around me went silent.

“That's impossible.” I murmured to myself. “Taehyung would never do this. He's not stupid. Why would he want to kill King Hugo's daughter…?”

“I also don't believe it was King Taehyung,” surprisingly, Ehmerald said. She had a somber gaze now. “Someone is trying to throw one kingdom against the other.”

“Who?”

She looked at me seriously.

“The same people that attacked the Capital using obsidian soldiers.”

Another shiver.

Who were these people? Why were they doing this?

King Taehyung and the entire Kim House will have to die.

“I have to go,” I said hurriedly.

“What- why?” Ehmerald questioned.

“Didn't you hear? King Hugo challenged Taehyung for a combat. He needs me.”

“You still want to help him, Y/N?” The woman in front of me seemed almost offended. “You still want to be his slave?”

“I am nobody's slave.” My fists tightened. I noticed how some people decided to step away from us in fear when they heard my tone. “You don't understand. I'm doing this because Taehyung is a good person.”

Ehmerald seemed about to answer, but then she looked at me as if she finally realized something. And I saw… pity in her eyes.

“My child, he seduced you.”

“What-?”

“That's what he wanted, don't you see?” She stepped closer and I stepped behind to keep a distance. “He made you fall for him to keep you loyal.”

“You are wrong.” I wanted to punch her at this point.

“Y/N, King Taehyung is engaged to Princess Sana. Don't you understand? He's going to marry her. He's just using you. What will you be? His secret prostitute? Because Princess Sana is the one he'll marry, not you. Don't let him use you like this!”

I could just stare at her, mouth ajar.

“I am leaving now,” I repeated, my voice low and menacing. “For your own well being, I'll pretend you never said this.”

Everyone around me stepped away and I heard many gasps and exclaims as I started to shift into my dragon nature. The pain of wings growing, the sound of my cotton shirt tearing apart in my shoulder blades, all of my senses becoming sharper, the air around fluttering because of my power.

It was the first time I shifted into my dragon nature in front of others.

I was not ashamed.

“I will try to find out what's going on. Whoever is trying to start this war for sure will be against the rebellion,” I said loud enough for everyone to hear. “Again, I ask you to stay here. I will come back as soon as possible.”

I did not wait for them to say anything; my wings extended and, with a strong gust of wind that made everyone's clothes and hair wave, I flied up until I was above the top of the trees, going higher and higher.

The sun was beginning to disappear in the horizon. King Hugo said he would wait just until sunrise. If I flew fast enough, I would be able to reach the Neutral Zone where the Colosseum was placed…

Taehyung's life depended on this.

Mine depended, too.

Because Kings don't fight battles. When King Hugo challenged him, he wasn't exactly challenging him.

Combats are a way to prevent wars. Instead of millions of soldiers dying in the battlefield, two soldiers are chosen to fight - a mortal fight where one of them will inevitably die. A champion is chosen.

And it is a millennial tradition that the chosen champion is always the King's dragon-guardian.

Nervousness hit me for the first time.

If everything went wrong, I would have to fight against Hoseok…

And only one of us would survive.

“If you lose today, Y/N, we will have a war. And all of it will be your fault.”

My eyes snap wide. I feel sweat forming on my hands due to nervousness.

“Do you want to live knowing millions of people died because of you, Y/N?”

“No, Your Majesty.”

“So, what do you have to do?”

I inhale deeply, controlling my nerves. It is no time to be nervous. It is no time to be scared.

It is no time to fail.

“I must win, Your Majesty.”

I can slightly see my master nodding his head. “Good. Then you know exactly what to do.”

With this, the King leaves me by myself.

I lift my head and tighten my fists. My master put all of his hopes on me, and I can’t let him down. I won’t. I will prove to him, to Counselor Gilliard and to the whole court that I am the best guardian the King of Ëlv’en could ever have.

I inhale and close my eyes momentarily.

When I open my eyes, the heavy doors open echoing a loud sound and I walk forward with determined steps.

When I enter the Colosseum, my opponent is already waiting for me, standing in the center of the arena. He is way older than me, an adult dragon, much more experienced, much taller. I'm not sure if I'll be able to win, but my master's words echoes in my mind. I will fight with all of my forces, all of my power.

My opponent is Athena's dragon-guardian - the strongest in ages.

His name is Jaejoong.

The sun was almost rising when the glass dome appeared ahead.

The Colosseum was built in the Neutral Zone - a small island right in the center of Mitras, the greatest lake of the continent, so great it was mistaken as a sea centuries ago. The Neutral Zone is used in times of war, a place when enemy kingdoms can meet. It is also a disarmed zone. The only ones that can use weapons are the champions. I could already feel the presence of many people inside the grey building, the place so familiar to me. I've been there several times. The situation around the continent has always been worse than what most of the population thought. During the past decade, the danger of wars exploding suddenly was great - all of them prevented by the combats.

From far, I could already feel Hoseok's presence, and I knew he could feel mine.

But the person I was looking for was nowhere at sight-

“Where have you been?!” Was what I heard the moment my feet touched the ground.

Counselor Gilliard radiated anger, hurry and nervousness, his old face even more distorted and ugly than usual. Behind him, soldiers and other counselors stepped closer as well, however some decided to keep distance as they stared at my wings, hesitant.

“Where is Taehyung?” I questioned sternly before Gilliard could say anything, what made his face distort even more.

“Who you think you are to pronounce His Majesty's name out loud?!” The old man exclaimed, outraged.

“Just answer my question. I don't have enough patience to deal with you right now.”

The old man looked more shocked than ever. I always kept my head down around him, although my hate towards that man existed since the day we first met; I would not do it anymore.

Slowly, his expression became darker, the mask of self-control hiding his true feelings. He has always been like this. So well controlled, so well calculated. “His Majesty did not come. He has many issues to deal with at the Capital, including the royal wedding that cannot be delayed anymore.”

For a moment, I went speechless.

The royal wedding?

Of course, I could understand that Taehyung had many problems to deal with, since the Capital has been attacked just a few days ago and now he was under accusations of murder. But…

Something wasn't right.

Challenged kings always are present to witness the combat. It didn't matter that he had a wedding soon, it could be delayed considering the current circumstances.

And…

Taehyung knew it was a mortal battle, right?

He knew I could die fighting, right?

Did he authorize the combat even then…?

“It does not matter. Because of you, we were about to face a war. How dare you disappear like this?! And you even got rid of your medallion!” Gilliard stormed. “If you survive, what you must do, you'll be severely punished. Now come on, the sun's almost rising! The combat must begin!”

Gilliard grabbed me by the arm and dragged me into the Colosseum, being followed by all the others. Finally, I noticed that General Namjoon was one of them - as it was traditional of the current general to be present on this type of event. Our gazes crossed quickly, and what I saw on his eyes was much different from what I was used to; no aggressiveness, no despite. Instead, I saw some type of grief.

Because everyone knew these could be my last moments.

Immediately, the assistants started to put the armor in me - the ceremonial armor, which I only used in “special” occasions. They tightened straps and leashes to the point it became painful until the complete armor was at place, handing me also a shield and a sword.

When they left, I was alone with Counselor Gilliard in the room. The same room I’ve been with King Taejun, the moments before the fight when he would speak some words to me.

Gilliard wasn’t supposed to be the one doing this.

Hoseok was just at the opposite side of the arena; I could feel him close. Nervousness hit me all at once. After the combat with Guardian Jaejoong many years ago, Athena and Ëlv’en never had such a harsh situation again, so no combats were claimed. I never faced Hoseok in a real fight, but I already knew how strong he was - dare I say, even stronger than Yuta. Hoseok had an angry fire burning inside of him all the time, and he used his strong feelings to fuel his powers. Definitely wouldn’t be an easy fight.

However, that’s not what made me hesitate.

I always provoked Hoseok, saying that he could not stand a chance against me in a real fight. We were anything but friends and all of our interactions were aggressive. I always tried to keep him away because I knew what we would have to do sooner or later in our lives. But, in the moment I was about to face him in a real mortal combat, I finally realized: I didn’t hate Hoseok. He was truly annoying, but I had no reason to hate him. I didn’t want to fight a brother of mine. After everything I’ve learned, I wanted nothing more but for him to know the truth, too, to be freed from this curse that haunted all of us.

I didn’t want to fight him and I wouldn’t fight him.

“I won’t do this.”

Counselor Gilliard seemed shocked. “What?”

“I said that I won’t do this.” I turned around and faced him, fists tight. The sole reason I even stepped inside and let them put the armor in me was that I knew I would have to fight to get out of here. “Something’s wrong. Taehyung should be here. I don’t see why he would even accept this challenge when he clearly is not the culprit. What is going on?”

“Do you think you have the right to refuse?” I could almost see his face fuming at this point. “If you simply go away, a war will begin!”

“And who will stop me?” I stepped closer to him menacingly, making Gilliard step back. His face went pale. “You?”

He gulped.

This was the moment of my mistake.

Perhaps discovering the truth made me too arrogant. I thought that no human could defeat me - especially Gilliard. How could that old, thin man fight me? How could he be stronger than me, faster than me, smarter than me?

I turned my back to my opponent.

And, before I could act, I felt a slight sting in my upper arm - a small gap in my armor, too small for a blade to penetrate.

Gilliard was holding something I've never seen before. It looked like a tiny glass tube with a needle attached to its tip.

“What is this?”

An ugly, mischievous smirk appeared on his decrepit face.

With rage taking control of my actions, I pushed the man backwards violently until his back shocked against the wall, my forearm pressing his neck so he could barely breathe. “What is this?!”

Gilliard let a strangled chuckle past his dry lips. “It's a v-very interesting mechanism. It p-permits me to… inject fluids directly on the bloodstream through the needle.”

Confused, I stared at that strange thing on his hand again.

Inside the small glass tube, there was… the reminiscents of a greenish liquid.

No.

An overwhelming dizziness almost made me lose balance.

Gilliard coughed when I let him go and massaged his neck. The room seemed to be twirling, my limbs felt weak.

“You bastard!”

Was all I could groan between gritted teeth before I completely lost balance and fell to the ground.

The potion I already knew so well… the potion to make me as weak as a human.

Gilliard chuckled again as, slowly, he approached. I could only see his feet.

“You were always so obedient, Y/N,” his voice made me shiver in disgust. Low, hoarse, evil. “I have to be honest. Seeing you finally stepping up for yourself is somehow a relief. I always wondered… how such a powerful creature could be so submissive? It was a delight to see you… obeying us like a trained hunting dog.” The familiar pressure seemed to be smashing my skull, bringing tears to my eyes. “But I saw the moment this rebellious little part of you was born. That day in the dungeons. I knew I shouldn't have let Taehyung talk to you.” He sighed. “Now, I have to clean the mess I made.”

Gilliard crouched down in front of me and our gazes finally met - satisfaction on his features as he watched me struggle to breathe, my limbs burning like fire while the potion ran throughout my bloodstream.

“Knowledge is dangerous. Keep the reins tight and the slave will think their entire life that they are blessed. But show them just a little bit of compassion… and this is what happens.” Gilliard shook his head slowly in disapproval. “I always kept your reins very tight, Y/N, but I knew that it wouldn't be enough. I tried to warn Taejun many times. We had so many chances to get rid of you, but he never listened. His stubbornness was what led him to his death after all.”

My heartbeat had increased, sweat flowing on my forehead. Hate was all I could feel. Red hate. “Y-You… you are the responsible behind Princess Serena's death?”

Gilliard's silence was enough of an answer.

My fists tightened.

“You incriminated your own K-King just to make me die in the combat?”

The smirk on his lips widened.

The dots connected as I stared at him.

I chose you that day to protect you, Y/N.

They wanted to get rid of you.

And everything started to make sense.

The cursed rock. The attack. I always thought they wanted to kill Taehyung, but he was not their target.

I was.

They were trying to kill me all along.

“W-Why?” I stuttered. “Y-You are condemning Ëlv'en. If I die here, Athena will win and they will rule the c-continent. You are betraying your own kingdom!”

The old Counselor clicked his tongue as if he was trying to explain something to an oblivious child. “There are more important things to protect than Ëlv'en's supremacy. But I already said enough.” Gilliard stood up again. “Take your sword and shield, Y/N; it is time to fight. I advise you to at least make some effort. It will be realistic if you bring Athena's guardian some struggle before he kills you.”

Gilliard left the room and locked the door.

I crawled, leaned on the wall and got up with struggle, my legs shaking, my breathing irregular and my vision blurry; I could barely move my wings anymore. My strength and powers were draining slowly. This potion is the only thing capable of weakening me. Before punishments, I always had to drink it, and it seems that injecting directly on my bloodstream made the effects spread faster.

How stupid I was?

I didn't stand a chance against Hoseok like this.

Desperately, I tried to reach him through our mental bond. However, this time, he blocked me so well that I couldn't reach his consciousness.

No. I couldn't stand it. I could not die like this after everything.

He had to hear me. If not psychically, then physically.

I took the sword and shield from the ground in time to see the heavy doors opening to the great arena.

And there he was.

Many meters away, at the opposite side, Hoseok entered the field. The red armor matched his hair, as well as his enormous crimson wings. His face was barely visible through the helmet, however his eyes seemed to be tearing me apart - vertical pupils, irises that seemed to be made of lava. Each step of his combat boots echoed. Hoseok's presence filled the Colosseum with raw power which I could feel deep in my bones. His entire form had a red hue, almost as if he was burning in fire.

It was the first time I felt scared of Hoseok in my entire life.

Trying to hide my weakness, I stepped inside the field as well. My grip around the hilt of the sword was not strong enough and I wasn't as confident as he was. The Colosseum was the same as always - incredibly big, a high glass dome above our heads. Despite the many seats around us, only a few people were present to witness the fight - Ëlv'en's and Athena's royal entourages, sitting in opposite sides. King Hugo was present. Taehyung was nowhere at sight.

A deep silence reigned around the place.

We stopped in front of each other at the very center of the field.

“That’s not how I expected our next meeting to be, Y/N,” Hoseok said and, despite the cold voice, like before, I saw something quick on his eyes.

Hesitation.

And something more.

I finally realized. Hoseok didn't hate me. Although our encounters were always anything but friendly, our aggressive banter was probably the only social contact Hoseok had with other people. He didn't want to kill me.

Perhaps I had a chance…?

“Hoseok-”

“The rules are clear,” I was interrupted by the referee's loud voice. “This is a battle in which the only acceptable result is the death of one of you. In case both of you end up deathly injured, the one who dies last will be the winner. All ways of fighting and magic are acceptable. You may start at my signal.” The referee walked back to his safe spot at the grandstand. “May the elves guide your souls to Valhalla… or Helheim.”

Hoseok was in position to fight.

All of my hopes died when I looked at his eyes.

It didn't matter if Hoseok had any type of strange affection towards me. He was a trained dragon, his brain worked the same way mine used to work. He had a duty, he would accomplish. Winning a combat was the best way to honor our “masters”. Nothing would stop Hoseok.

“Fight!”

He attacked.

I managed to block his attack with my shield. Hoseok twirled around, ready to repeat his attack and our blades shocked against one another for the first time, the impact it produced so strong that a gust of wind flew through the area and made everyone's clothes and hair waver. Hoseok brandished his sword in a series of strong and precise blows, forcing me to step backwards every time. I could still keep up with him for now, but my strength was disappearing by the minute. In my normal state I wouldn't even be sweating, but a few minutes into the battle I already felt tired. One second slower than him.

And Hoseok didn't even had started. He was just warming up.

When we were almost at the corner of the arena, Hoseok kicked my shield away; the iron object flew meters away, leaving my body unprotected. Before I could do anything, Hoseok twirled himself in the air and kicked my stomach with such strength that I could feel my guts being smashed. Just like the shield, he sent me flying backwards violently until my back hit the wall, making the rock structure behind me crack with the impact.

I fell.

My lungs weren't even working properly anymore. A sharp pain spreaded from the place he kicked; my vision was even more blurred. Hoseok approached me at heavy steps and dropped his shield - it was useless anyway.

“Are you just playing around with me, Y/N? When will you start fighting?”

I didn't answer.

A shiver indicated me that Hoseok was about to use his power. I saw the sword he carried take a similar color as the hue around him as he conjured a destructive spell. Not good. With more struggle than the usual, I managed to roll away from the attack the moment his sword hit the wall, metal crossing the rock easily in the exact place my head was one second before.

My entire body screamed in pain when I got up in time to block his next blow with my sword, the blade now shining with the same spell, however weaker than his. The friction of the conjured blades produced something similar to electricity, the sound echoing all around. Now, we were both holding our swords with both hands, we were more free to move around. And it was bad, because Hoseok wasn't even tired yet - and he was one of the fastest people I've ever known.

He was unstoppable. Attack after attack, he overwhelmed me. What should be something I could handle with ease became almost impossible; second after second, I got weaker. Even my wings seemed to be too heavy, my senses becoming as slow as a normal human's.

With another strong kick, he made me fly back, however this time I somehow kept standing. But Hoseok dropped his sword and all of my (slow) senses screamed. He was conjuring a spell between his hands - a ball of fire, his favorite element. If I were one second slower, I would have been incinerated; crouching down, my hands touched the floor and I conjured an earth wall in front of me - the exact moment Hoseok released that intense magic, a strong gust of fire that made the Colosseum shake strongly; my earth wall was ridiculous near his attack.

When it finally stopped, I was about to get up and take my sword again.

My eyes widened.

He was already behind me.

My vision went black when he punched my chin with such strength that, again, I was sent flying up. Hoseok extended his wings and flew towards me, making me shock my body against the dome until I heard the glass crack.

The acrid taste of blood invaded my mouth. His forearm was locked on my neck; I could barely breathe. I felt as if my skull was cracked somewhere.

“If you just defend yourself like this, I will kill you sooner than I expected,” Hoseok groaned, his face too close to mine.

Desperately, I searched for his eyes. I couldn't just let him kill me like this; but how could I say something? All this time, I didn't represent any kind of danger to him. Hoseok could kill me at any moment.

Why didn't he kill me yet, though?

Because he wants me to fight seriously, I realized. To him, the combat haven't even started.

So, if fighting meant I would still have a chance, then I would.

Reuniting all of my strength, I kicked him back so strongly that Hoseok had to leave me. I almost fell directly to the ground, but my wings worked in time and I managed to land, although clumsily. I was out of breath, my lungs weren't working well anymore - and I was sure I had at least two broken ribs. There was still some power inside of me. Not enough to overpower him, but enough to at least keep up fighting for some minutes until I could somehow penetrate his mind.

Our weapons forgotten, the fight proceeded to be hand-to-hand. Since our bodies worked differently, the fact that Hoseok's body was slender by no ways meant he was physically weak; this man could destroy a concrete wall with his bare hands. My force could match his in my normal state, but in that moment, I had to focus not to scream in pain every time he landed a blow. Pain was much more apparent after drinking this potion. I shouldn't even flinch, however Hoseok already made me feel like a punching bag.

“What's wrong with you? Are you trying to provoke me?!” He groaned at some point. He was getting angry. “Fight for real!”

His anger grew and his attacks as well. All the time I was just trying to keep him away from me, making air spells to force him backwards so I could have even one second to recover my breath. Blood trickled down my chin, I was limping, and even the metal of my armor was smashed in some points. I was two minutes away from losing all of my powers definitely. This was leading me nowhere.

The royals above just watched the fight in silence. Judging by my state - bleeding while Hoseok was barely sweating - there was already a winner. A discrete victorious gleam covered Gilliard's eyes.

It just fueled my hatred.

“Hoseok- y-you have to listen to me…” I tried, unable to hide any of my suffering, which Hoseok saw with awkwardness. A guardian should never demonstrate pain, not even on their dying breath…

“It is no time to talk!”

More blows. Hoseok wouldn't stop until he saw me dead. This is exactly what I would have done before I met Taehyung. It did not matter that I was his partner, it did not matter that, by killing me, Hoseok would be decreasing the chances of our race to still exist. If his “master” told him to kill me, then he would with no hesitation.

It also didn't matter that I could see that this situation hurt him.

I could barely defend myself anymore; my arms were too weak, my legs shaking. I have never been so humiliated in a fight; just trying to defend myself stupidly and barely being able to do so. It was nowhere near close to the warrior I am. Hoseok wasn't even trying.

“Get up!” He yelled when I fell again. I could understand that he was confused. He didn't want to kill me so easily like this. “Get up now!”

A kick on my stomach that made me roll. I embraced myself and coughed, spitting blood. Being punished was nowhere close to this. All of my punishers were humans… I have never been beaten up by a dragon. Every punch and kick of his was ten, twelve times stronger than a human's.

Hoseok watched with a scowl on his face as I got up, shaking and stumbling. My nose was broken, my arm, my ankle, some ribs. Many cuts all over my skin. Drops of blood falling to the ground.

I sighed weakly.

“H-Hoseok-”

“Fight with me!” He yelled and attacked again. I could not even lift my arms anymore. “Will you just die like this? You're not even trying! Will you accept your death so easily?! Where is your honor?!”

I sobbed. “H-Hoseok-”

“Fight!”

“I c-can't-”

“Fight!”

I gasped loudly.

Silence.

My entire body was shaking. I… I couldn't move anymore.

Hoseok buried the sword deeper inside of me. I coughed, and my blood hit his armor.

With a grunt, he took the sword out and stepped back. I fell to the ground again, pressing the wound in my stomach with my hand.

“This won't kill you yet,” Hoseok said.

“The opponent can't keep fighting,” the referee said. “We already have a winner. Guardian Hoseok, execute your opponent.”

I coughed more.

Is this it? I would die in such a shameful way?

I couldn't even offer Hoseok a decent fight.

He looked down at me, and my blurry vision caught his hesitance again. He was disappointed because he thought I would've been better. And he was…

Was that sadness?

I would die after everything I went through? After everything I discovered? I would die without seeing Yoongi and Chuu one last time? I wanted to laugh. How stupid I was. In the end, I would be just another dragon dying in battle in the name of my king.

Taehyung…

I wish I would have seen him one last time, too.

I wish we could have the opportunity to sit down and talk as he promised.

I wish I could hold his hand again…

Hoseok started to lift his sword.

It was the first time I saw him showing genuine feelings. He didn't want to kill me, however his duty was beyond his wishes. I also wish I had some time to tell him the truth. What if Hoseok was also freed from this invisible weight that haunted me my whole life? What kind of person would he be if he knew all the things he could do - if he tasted freedom, just like me? Perhaps we could even be friends…

“I didn't want things to end up like this,” Hoseok whispered, so low that only I could listen.

If my brain was working properly, I would have said something meaningful. But everything I did was whisper his name again, nothing but a strangled cry.

Hoseok was about to decapitate me.

I closed my eyes tightly, helpless, and waited for whatever was about to come.

But the blade never touched me.

“I can't feel your power,” he said, confused.

“Guardian Hoseok, execute your opponent so we can finish the combat,” the referee repeated.

“I… I can't feel your power,” Hoseok repeated as he hadn't heard the referee, his brows furrowing in a bewildered expression. “What's wrong?”

Hope sparkled inside of me again. With all of my remaining forces, I tried to speak. “T-The pot-”

“Hoseok, execute it,” King Hugo's voice thundered around the Colosseum.

But Hoseok still seemed to not be listening. He analyzed me and blinked, looking very confused - until I saw when things made sense on his mind.

He widened his eyes slowly.

“You have been weakened.”

“Hoseok, finish this. Execute it,” King Hugo repeated, his patience going short.

“Someone weakened you before so you wouldn't be able to fight against me,” his arm dropped to the side. “That's… that's not fair.”

“Hoseok!” Now, the small crowd all looked at each other, confused. I couldn't see them, but I could hear their chatter.

“This is not a combat. This is an execution,” He concluded as if he couldn't believe his own words.

“Guardian Hoseok, I am telling you to finish the combat!” Hugo's voice was beyond angry.

I saw Hoseok sighing. He tightened his fists and, for a moment, I thought he would follow Hugo's order. But I saw his inner conflict. And, when our gazes met again I saw… resolve.

“No.”

A collective gasp.

“What?!” King Hugo stormed.

“Your Majesty, it was not a fair combat. Guardian Y/N was not in conditions to fight. We should wait until she heals, so we can have another fair combat-”

“Shut up!” With the corner of the eye, I saw Hugo getting up from his seat, furious. “You don't tell me what to do! I told you to execute it!”

“I- I can't do this, master,” Hoseok said. It was being painful for him to stand against his King for the first time. However, he didn't flinch. He just kept his gaze glued on mine.

“Execute it now, Hoseok! I am ordering you!”

“No. Executing someone that can't defend herself is unfair and dishonorable.”

“You just obey me! Execute it!”

For the first time, Hoseok looked up at King Hugo right in the eye - jaw clenched, fists tight, eyes burning.

He dropped the sword. The metallic sound echoed.

“Nothing is above honor.” Hoseok said. “Not even you.”

I almost could not believe my eyes.

“You will pay for your insolence, Hoseok!” King Hugo stormed again. He seemed about to explode. “This is high treason!”

“Execute me too, then,” I really could not believe my eyes. Hoseok took off his helmet and dropped it too. “I prefer to have an honored death than to keep living knowing I killed a sister of mine unreasonably.”

Everyone from both Entourages were talking at the same time by now, with King Hugo being the loudest. I heard steps of many soldiers entering the arena, coming closer to us.

Hoseok… he really went that far?

I looked at his proud, irrefutable figure. This man… he was stronger than I ever imagined…

At first, I thought it was my blurry vision. Or perhaps my brain stopping to work.

There was a huge shadow beyond Hoseok's head.

No… beyond the dome.

It was approaching.

The deafening sound of glass breaking all at once.

I had time to cover my eyes with my weak hands. People screamed, the soldiers looked up, confused, spears in hand.

Hoseok was shocked.

I looked as that gigantic winged creature screeched - a sound so terribly loud and disturbing that everyone had to cover their ears.

A… a white griffin.

The creature landed and looked around, sending a menacing gaze and grunts towards the guards that did no dare to step close.

And, riding the griffin…

“GILLIARD!” Taehyung yelled, his voice so loud and deep and menacing that the entire arena went silent. He got off Alpha at heavy steps, his entire aura glowing with anger. “What did you do?!”

I shivered. I never heard Taehyung talking like that. He was completely possessed by crimson hatred.

“King Taehyung, we thought-” the referee tried, his voice growing scared.

“You thought wrong!” No one was even breathing. “I did not authorize this combat!” Soldiers were slowly recovering their shock and approaching. “Whoever touches her will die!”

They immediately stopped on their tracks.

I wish I could have heard what happened next, but my brain was giving in. Too much pain to bear. I didn't understand what was happening anymore. I… I just wanted a silent place to sleep…

Sleep…

The last thing I saw before being dragged to the darkness of unconsciousness was Taehyung's figure hovering over me.

398 notes · View notes