#grappling with a lot of confusing feelings for his closest companion

[askyofexplodingstars]

so emo over them set to iris by the goo goo dolls that i just had to colour this

[kettleworth]

Such Selfish Desires - A Deltarune Fanfiction

(Reuploading this from my AO3 just cuz I can and want attention muehehe c:< )

Description: Ralsei grapples with troublesome thoughts, all while wondering if he truly deserves nice things. Does a Darkner such as himself even deserve presents? Deserve friends? …and is it horrible to hope that you do?

Potential spoilers for Chapter 4 ahead! Read at your own risk!

Such Selfish Desires

Another day, another dark fountain sealed. The slew of new experiences and new friends were fresh on Ralsei's mind, even as he watched his two friends – Kris and Susie – leave his kingdom once more. A bright, happy smile adorned the prince's face, even as he watched his two closest companions disappear beyond the horizon. Back to the Light World. Back to their world.

“Today was fun..!” The Darkner thought to himself, feeling his shoulders slump downwards as he sighed. His smile was still obvious, though not as bright as it had been prior. He stood in place for a few minutes longer, reminiscing over today's events once more. It... was a lot. Perhaps too much to think about. Especially if the subject involved a certain strange... puppet... salesman guy? Ralsei shook his head, secretly feeling immense relief that he wouldn't have to accommodate for his – its? – presence in his town.

Instead, his thoughts returned to the 'Cyber Carnival' that Susie had dragged him to. Was it against his own volition? Perhaps, but there was no denying just how much fun he had! Cotton candy, fireworks, balloons, games? What wasn't there to like?! The fact that he could use the opportunity to teach Susie, of all people, something that didn't have anything to do with smashing or aggression only added to the enjoyment of their outing!

As he thought more about earlier events, he couldn't help but recall that he had felt... guilty about leaving Kris out of things. Naturally, it all turned out well – or at least well enough? – once they all managed to group up once more.

Before the dark prince could reminisce any further, however, a familiar haughty laughed echoed throughout the carved hallways of his 'kingdom'. “Oh right..! The Queen!” Ralsei thought to themselves, both hands gently caressing... something within his robe pockets. After a quick check to make sure it was safe and secure, the goat boy hurried back towards his home. After all, with so many new friends to settle in, he had a lot to do! Who else would rally them into place? Lancer? Probably, though his kingdom might have a few more extra... holes than he'd like. Asking Queen for a favor was like trying to clean your floors with a cotton swab: it'll do the job... sort of.

To say that Ralsei hated any of his 'subjects' – obviously, he preferred the term 'friends' – would be a statement so incorrect that it would actually make the boy feel quite cross that someone even thought it in the first place! He loved his friends, even the ones he knew very little about. It was the prince's duty, after all, to get to know each and every one of his subjects, no matter how seemingly insignificant.

Attempting to keep his mind off of the loneliness felt after Kris and Susie left, he hurried towards Castle Town's common area, where everyone often accumulated. As he expected, he was met with a wall of 'subjects', each one looking curiously towards the front. Even from the back, however, Ralsei knew who they were all paying attention to. It was hard to ignore such a sonorous, memorable laugh, after all. Even if he couldn't necessarily read the letters that scrolled along her visor – being near-sighted was no easy task – it was also difficult to see that as well. For a moment, he listened in, confused, albeit curious.

“So. Like. I'm So Glad To Be Here With My Subjects. And Also All Of You Other Losers. LMAO,” The Queen said. Even from the back, Ralsei was able to see her tall, royal stature, addressing everyone as if she owned the place. “Just So You Know. I Will Now Be Living Here.”

“With me!” Echoed the equally recognizable voice of Lancer, who was no doubt standing beside the Queen, wanting to be a part of any momentous occasion that occurred within the Dark World. “That's right! This third motherly father of mine will be treated as if she were one of us! So give her all of your Dollars so that she may buy me an Iced Creme Cone!”

“LMAO!” The Queen cooed, instantly smushing her right palm into Lancer's hand, ruffling his head in an overly-affectionate manner as she continued. “Isn't He A Treat? Oh I Love Him I Want To Eat Him Up Yum Yum Yum Yum Yum Yum.” As Queen stated this, her hand started to 'munch' on the young darkner's head, as if it were a snake trying to swallow its prey.

“Ho ho ho!” Lancer laughed, squirming around, not moving out of the way as he was toyed with by the taller figure. “This hurts in a fun way! I am being eaten... yet I remain!”

“Hm. Damn. So You Are,” The Queen hummed with a neutral frown, suddenly a lot quieter than before. It was as if she was... disappointed that she wasn't actually eating him? It only took a few more seconds before her other hand 'attacked' Lancer as well, aiming for his stomach this time around. “Guess We Will Have To Aim Low LOL.”

“H-HO HO HO-HOHAHA! Help me! I am being eaten!” Lancer laughed raucously, squirming around on the ground as he was helplessly tickled. “Oh, oh! Won't someone – anyone – help a poor boy from being eaten alive by his Mother-Father?”

At this point, Ralsei could hear curious, amused murmurings throughout the crowd before him. Not many knew if they should do or say anything, keeping their attention rapt on the new Darkner that towered over nearly everyone. He couldn't deny that he too was enjoying the sight, though without interference, this 'show' could continue on uselessly for... well, until Kris and Susie came back!

Realizing that he had a... 'title' to uphold, the fluffy Darkner cleared his throat. Softly. Quietly. He didn't want to disrupt anyone's fun, after all. “M-maybe if I'm polite about it, I won't make it obvious-”

“Oh Shoot. Fun's Over, Folks. Here Comes The Man Of The Hour,” Echoed Queen's voice, removing her hands from the giggling Lancer, looking directly at Ralsei, through the crowd of unknown Darkners that she didn't even know the names of. As she said this, the crowd of people parted down the middle, each and every one of them looking right at the bespectacled, confused goat, who was now frozen stiff where he stood. Without even meaning to, Ralsei found himself the center of attention. He was shocked, yet stiff, barely able to even make eye contact with anyone for more than a half-second.

“Oh f-f...fudge!” The goat boy thought, gulping thickly as they attempted to try and think of something to say. Or get his feet to move forwards. Or wave. Or... something!!!

He was thankful that Lancer was there to help assuage anxieties, who spend the past few seconds spinning in place obliviously. If anything, Ralsei was thankful that he was there to 'break the ice'.

“Ho ho! Time to brush our teeth... please welcome the Toothpaste Prince!”

...well, almost thankful.

Regardless, Ralsei put on a wide, brave – if doubtful – smile as he began to walk down the crowd's opening. All eyes were on him, now, and he... didn't really enjoy it. If anything, he would've preferred to sneak past the crowd while Queen was giving her 'speech'. Clearly, that wasn't an option for him at this point. Therefore...

“H-hello everyone..!” He greeted graciously, his soft voice attempting to be as loud as he could possibly get it. His smile painted his muzzle, as it usually did, almost drowning out the rest of his dubious body language. “Um... it's... so nice to meet all of you here! I...I hope all of us can... c-can become friends!”

“Oh gosh, they're going to hate that-” Was all his brain could formulate before being met with a huge – no, enormous – round of cheers and applause. “...ah! A-alright?” He thought to himself, his feet now doing most of the work as he moved towards the 'center' of town. Aside from the colorful variety of subjects that now patterned the kingdom, he felt the 'eyes' of Queen bore directly into his... SOUL? No, being! That was the accurate term for someone like him.

“Ha Ha Ha. Classic Ral Say. Always Wanting What's Best For Us,” Queen stated, raising a glass goblet that she had apparently stored... somewhere? Ralsei chose not to question it, watching as she raised the glowing green chalice of acid to her lips, gulping it down greedily. “Isn't He Just A Fluffy Little Sweetheart?”

Lancer filled in the silence, taking the center of the 'stage', looking directly at the flustered Ralsei as he walked closer and closer. “Hello, Prince! Is it time for us to brush our teeth yet?” He greeted earnestly, flashing a large, unabashed smile to the fluffy Darkner as he moved closer.

“...Um... n-not until bedtime, Lancer..!” Ralsei decided to answer, giggling with a sweet, if unsure, tone as he moved past the loud crowd.

“Oh, drat! I've already done that!” The small, bouncy boy responded, smacking his palm upon his forehead. His goofy smile did not remove itself from his face, looking towards the Queen as he continued. “Guess I'm ahead of schedule. Remind me to brush my teeth again in a few hours, Mother-Father!”

“Okay. Alarm Set,” Queen stated, her visual visor now glowing red numbers that read '8:00 PM'. “I Will Make Sure To Replace The Batteries Of The Singing Toothbrush You Love So Much.”

“Yes! Thank you!” Lancer giggled giddily, waving as Ralsei hurried his way into the castle entrance. “I didn't even know I had one of those!”

“Oh I Left That For You. I Hope You Like 'High School Musical. LMAO!'”

“I don't even know what that is, but I love it already!”

“G-great!” Ralsei interjected, already halfway into his homestead as he gave one last wave towards the crowd of Darkners. “I-I hope you all enjoy yourselves in your new homes! Just... please don't destroy one another...”

With his words, a lot of the crowd turned to look at each other, nodding in agreement with the young prince's words. Why would they destroy their new home, after all? It was nice, friendly, and spacious!

“Yes! Save that for the arena!” Lancer butted in, laughing heartily, leaving Ralsei to sigh and shake his head.

“N-no that's not-” He stopped himself, unable to control the crowd at this point. “...w-well... if you must fight... just leave it in the arena, okay?”

“Yes Sir, Mister Toothpaste Boy Sir, Sir!” Queen laughed teasingly, allowing many others (Lancer included) to laugh along.

“Yes sir, Mister Toothpaste Boy!” Lancer laughed along, his tone teasing, yet innocent. The prince could Ralsei took this moment of humility to slink back into his abode. His large... over-sized... lonely... abode. He gave an uncomfortable chuckle to everyone as the door closed behind him, leaving the prince to scurry upstairs, away from the crowd, the cauldron, and the hat-rack (which was still miraculously holding his over-sized, green hat). Brushing off whatever it had to say to him, Ralsei hurried inside of his home, taking a moment to catch his breath and regain control of his emotions.

Despite the smile that painted his face, there was no denying the fact that his whole body felt completely and utterly exhausted. “...time... for me to... rest,” He muttered under his breath, slowly making his way up the large flight of stairs that decorated his home. The first set was little issue, even if he did take awhile. It wasn't long before he made it to the second floor, continuing his way with a seemingly neutral, unbothered expression.

“...t-time to... g-go to bed. In my... bedroom.” He said to himself, slowing his graceful footfalls as he began to pass by two familiar rooms. One belonged to Susie, the other belonged to Kris. He hovered around them for a second or two, sighing wistfully as he wiped... something damp out of the corner of his eye. “...gosh, is it humid in here or is it just me..?” He joked aloud, speaking to himself. Right as the side of his paw met his left eye, a goofy, familiar voice instantly chimed in, causing the fluffy boy to freeze up once more.

“Nope, just you!” Lancer said, lounging casually on a pool-chair.

“I Was About To Say,” Queen continued, who was also lounging in a pool chair. How did that even wind up here?! Why the hell were they laying in the middle of the hallway out of nowhere? – “Fluffy-Buffy Two By Four, Speeches Make Me Want To Snore... It Is Awfully Hot. Do Turn The 'A. C.' Up, Would You? You Know How Computers Get When We Get Too Hot!”

“O-oh, uh...” Ralsei began, being met with the two figures of Queen and Lancer, who were now... somehow laying in the middle of his hallway. Right next to the stairwell. With a despondent Rudinn fanning the duo with a leaf (as well as a displeased expression).

“Yeah! Turn! It! Up!” Lancer started, beginning to chant the phrase on repeat. Queen wasn't far behind him, starting to join the young Darkner.

“Turn! It! Up! Turn! It! Up! Turn! It! Up!”

“Y-you guys..!” Ralsei started, one hand lifted up to try and appease the duo, the other tucked into his robe pocket. Despite his smile, he felt... uncomfortable. He shivered in place, unsure if he even should continue upstairs past the blocked off stairwell. “P-please..! J-just let me on through, o-o-okay? I...I have lots to do!”

“Turn! It! Up! Turn! It! Up! Turn! It! Up!” Continued the duo, unknowingly overwhelming the poor Prince. Even the Rudinn peered over to the fluffy boy with a tired expression, as if to say 'Dude... turn it up already. I can only fan so fast.'

But Ralsei wasn't thinking about the Rudinn. Nor was he thinking about Queen, nor Lancer. Before he even knew what was happening he shoved his floppy ears against his head, shaking his head violently. His face scrounged up in between shakes before he eventually bleated out...

“ENOUGH!!! P-PLEASE JUST... SHUT UP! I... I CAN'T TAKE IT ANYMORE!”

Within the second he shouted, Ralsei removed his hands from his ears and clasped them over his maw. He noticed everyone was dumbfounded by his outburst. However, none were so flabbergasted than him! The prince couldn't help but gulp silently, looking between the horrified expressions of the indifferent Rudinn, the dumbfounded Queen, and the shocked Lancer.

Before the Prince could even offer an apology, the young 'Jack of Spades' spoke up, his voice noticeably more... low-key. “...oh! Erm... sorry.”

“...Shutting Up Protocol: Engaged. For Whatever Reason,” Queen responded, her voice not as boisterous as it usually was. Ralsei tried to look her way, though she avoided 'eye contact' the best she could. He tried the Rudinn, though they only continued to fan, their expression becoming more... uncomfortable. As for Lancer... Ralsei couldn't help but see them facing the wall. He was... shaking.

...oh god. He made him cry, didn't he?

“...I-I-I-I...I...” The poor Prince began, unable to stifle his own sniffles, slowly attempting to move towards the duo. Lancer only ducked behind the equally uncomfortable Queen. “...I-”

“It's... Okay. Prince,” Queen attempted, putting on a heavily uncomfortable smile, tucking the shivering Lancer behind her lounging chair. “You... Did Not Mean It..?”

Ralsei wanted to believe the Queen, yet there was no denying the three red question marks that scrolled across her visor. Instead, the goat boy covered his face with his scarf, hurrying up to the third floor with stumbling footfalls.

“I-I-I'm suh-shorry! Puh-please fuh-fuhgive me..!” Whatever words Ralsei was calling out were soon forgotten by the echoes of the walls. To the three lounging Darkners, it sounded a lot like... sobbing.

For a while, none of the three said anything. Even the fanning Rudinn didn't do anything save for stare at the stairwell, their fan resting limply in their hand.

“...Oh,” The Queen sighed, gently petting the shivering Lancer.

“Is he... well?” The fanning Rudinn questioned curiously, yet genuinely. “I mean, I wasn't there, but...”

“I didn't know he could scream that loud,” Lancer whimpered, peering around the Queen's chair with a frightened expression.

“...Hm, Lancer,” Queen mused to herself, staring at the stairwell with a worried frown upon her face. After a few moments, she turned back to her 'son', her lips forming a sheepish smile. “Lancer Bancer Fo-Fancer,” She attempted, trying to comfort the young boy. “How About You. Find Me A Place To. Uh. Make-” The taller woman stopped, watching as the strung-out boy tore his attention up at her.

“...Dig Me A New Pool?”

Lancer sniffled a few moments, wiping his snotty nose with his left hand. “D-did you say... d-dig a pool..?”

“...Yes. I Did,” Queen answered, her smile returning with full force, her visor flashing 'TRUE' as she kicked herself up to her feet.

“...sniff... Y-yay!” Lancer laughed, immediately hopping up and joining the Queen's side. “I-I like to dig! Show me the way and I'll dig you the best pool you've ever drank from!”

“OMG,” Queen started, placing a hand on his head as the two walked out of the castle. “It Is Like You Can Read My Mind.”

“Well duh! Who doesn't like pool water?!” Lancer laughed uproariously, almost forgetting about Ralsei's outburst as the Queen hurried him outside.

“I Know Right?!” Was all she managed to exclaim before exiting the building as well, her long legs speed-walking as fast she could. The lone Rudinn remained, looking between each door frame with an uncomfortable expression.

“...Prince... Ralsei?” It muttered sadly, looking at the stairwell as it attempted to listen for more clues. Sadly, it was met with none, even after waiting for a good minute or two. The Rudinn shook its head, tossing the fanning leaf onto the ground as it squirmed its way downstairs. “...nuts to this..! I'm gonna take a break!”

Right before the Rudinn began to exit, ready to head to the Cafe, it looked to the stairwell once more, its facial expression incredibly downtrodden. “...I-I'm sorry, Prince Ralsei. Please forgive me, too.”

Without another word, it hurried outside.

Thus, the lonely Price of Darkness was lonely once more.

_______________________

“...stop it.”

Ralsei couldn't even hear his inner thoughts as he hurried up the stairs onto the third floor. If he could even call it that! There was literally zero reason to build or renovate anything at this point in his- no. No... their adventure. He made it the top of the stairs, collapsing to his hands and feet. One paw kept him steady while the other wiped his wet, weepy eyes from underneath his big, green, dumb glasses. He sniffled and whimpered unintelligibly, scooting away from the stairs with a whimpering, shivering body.

“Stop. It,” His mind commanded, forcing the goat boy to slowly, shakily stand upon his feet.

“...sniff!” Ralsei sniffed, wiping his wet snout with his left hand as he slowly continued through the hallway. His muzzle attempted to show off his seemingly unbothered smile, despite his shaking legs... and shaking hands. As well as his unfocused eyes. And brain. And goose-pimpled fur. “...H-huh. T-these seem like nuh-nuh-nice places to set up suh-some new rooms..!” He stammered to himself, attempting to put on a pleasantly optimistic voice. With no one around to hear him, however, Ralsei could only giggle to himself, his tone growing more and more unhinged.

“...huh-hah. HahahAHAHA! I...Huh-Who do you think we'll meet next, Kris? Susie?” He said, speaking to no one, since no one else was around. After a few steps, Ralsei stopped in his tracks, looking downwards at his feet with a saddened expression. “...yeah. Me too.”

As he looked at his feet, Ralsei continued forwards towards the end of the hallway. There was nothing there, obviously. Nothing except a... line of pink ribbon greeted his eyesight. Even then, whatever it was blocking off showed... nothing. Nothing was down this hallway. Nothing.

“...M-maybe I can-”

“Make things worse as usual?”

“...M-maybe I can muh-muh-make a cake for Lancer, t-to apologize for-”

“Be. Quiet.”

Ralsei froze in place, covering his ears as he winced his eyes shut, his thoughts soon becoming so powerful as to quiet him, nearly forcing the young prince into a catatonic state. As his heart raced even faster and harder than he ever expected it to, he clenched his eyes shut, hurrying forward. Jumping over the pink ribbon that acted as a boundary for the 'unfinished' corner of the castle, the goat boy hurried into a simple, green door, followed only by his thoughts.

“Stop simpering like a baby, wimp. No wonder no one actually likes you.”

“STOP IT..!!!” Ralsei cried, unleashing his pent up emotions the moment he slammed the door behind him. With short, stumbling legs, the goat whimpered aloud as he hurried forwards.

The room was... empty. No other words could describe it other than 'empty'. It was almost as if a troubled child was asked to draw a room in green crayon for the interior design. The only thing that could account for 'decoration' was an open window and a set of simple, useless curtains, which blew in the nonexistent wind.

For a moment, Ralsei forgot that the breeze was nonexistent. He rushed on wobbly legs to the window, shoving his head out of the window, gasping for fresh air that could never arrive. He stared outwards towards... nothing. Nothing at all.

As the prince hyperventilated, his thoughts continued to throttle his mind two-fold. It was unavoidable, considering that no other sound entered his room.

“You're worthless,” It began coldly.

“...th-that's not-”

“You're less than worthless,” It continued, acting as if Ralsei wasn't even attempting to combat it.

“P-please-”

“PLEASE?! Please whom? Susie? Kris? You act as if... pfft... as if they care about you.”

“Th-th-they d-d-d-” Ralsei began, his grip digging into the flimsy 'wood' paneling of the windowsill.

“THUH-THUH...BUH-BUH... H-HUH- SHUH-SHUT. UP.”

Ralsei stumbled a bit, his knees barely able to stay steady as he fell. His gaze turned down as well, with only his hands remaining on the plain, empty, windowsill. At this point, all Ralsei could do was the one thing he felt comfortable doing when he was alone.

...his muzzled winced as he began to snort and sniffle and whimper with despair. His eyes began to tear up and leak with unstoppable vigor. Even before his brain could reprimand him for even thinking about it, Ralsei started to cry again. He weeped. He sobbed. Hard.

His cries echoed within his empty 'room', outside of his empty window, which lead to nowhere but the darkness. No one could see him. No one would be able to hear him. It was just him. The lonely Prince of Darkness. Thoughts of the Prophecy only made him cry harder into the void. He was thankful no one was around to hear him act so... pathetic.

Regardless of his stinging, tearful eyes, his shaking, despondent body, and his mean, evil thoughts, the goat buried his forehead into the sill, his legs starting an attempt to do... something. His feet dug into the 'wall' of his worthless room as if attempting to climb outside. He didn't have much success, though his feet continued to clumsily scramble up the dark, nonexistent stone. “I-I'm, suh-sorry... I-I won't buh-bother them again. I won't... I won't!” Ralsei sobbed helplessly to himself, trying to keep a steady smile on his face. It was... less than effective. “I'll... I'll leave them cakes! So many cakes, haha..! Of... of all flavors! Th-then th-they'll never... l-l-l...”

“Then what? They'll just laugh. Like always. Stupid.”

Ralsei whimpered as he buried his head into the windowsill once more. Soon, he began to gently bang his head against it. His horns thumped dully against the 'wood'. The boy started to let out unhinged laughs, shaking and shivering uncontrollably. Tears streamed down his cheeks as he continued to reprimand himself for ever thinking he would be able to appease his friends. Appease... anyone.

“St-st-stupid... yeah. Ha...hahaha. Th-that's me.” Ralsei slowly stopping his attempt to clamber through the window. “I-I'm a Darkner. I exist to bring the Lightners... the Heroes... I-I'm here to make th-their lives easier.”

Ralsei laughed mirthlessly, his brain already attempting to overwhelm his sense with the sounds of cruel, mocking laughter. He heard Lancer. He heard Queen. The King. Seam. Sweet Cap'n Cakes, Hacker, Swatch, Tasque Manager, Nubert. Hell, even Rouxls Kaard of all people were laughing at his downfall. Hoping for it, even.

None were laughing louder nor more cruelly than Susie and Kris. In his despair-induced delusions, Ralsei was starting to see them through his window. It was as if... they were walking on nothing at all.

“Yo, Kris,” 'Susie' snickered, jabbing a thumb in his direction. “Check out the nerd,” She cackled, flipping her hair as she began to walk away from his dejected body. “Heh. What a weenie. Shame we won't bring him back home to do everything for us, huh?”

'Kris' merely shrugged, shaking their head as they flashed an evil smile to the dark prince.

“Right? C'mon, dude. We can get someone who's actually cool to help us. Screw this dweeb.”

Right as Ralsei reached out of the window for his 'friends', he could hear 'Kris' speak out. Their voice was... unnatural. To him, it didn't even sound like Kris.

“...worthless idiot.”

The despairing prince shut his eyes as tight as he possibly could, banging his fist hopelessly against his empty windowsill. “H-hey! C'mon guys I'm... I-I'm not that worthless... I-I can... I can help..!” He whined, unable to keep his composure as he crumpled under his own meager strength. A hopeless smile attempted to grace his muzzle before soon faltering. “...n-no. They... they're right. If... if they don't want me around anymore, then-”

B-bump!

For a second, Ralsei paused, attempting to control himself with sniffles as he felt something... different. It didn't feel like his body was nudging against anything. No, it was... an object. A familiar one at that. The prince's expression brightened up for a brief moment, starting to stand up once again.

“...o-oh!” He exclaimed, instantly digging the gift box from his pockets. He held it with both hands in front of him, gripping the cheap wrapping paper and velvety ribbon against his fingertips. For a moment, his hands started sharking again, his expression straining to keep an eager smile. “T-this is the present! From... earlier.” He mused, beginning to recall the very moment once again.

_______________________

“Oh, Kris..? What's that you have there? Is that a... gift for someone?” Ralsei asked bashfully, barely able to look the human in the eyes as he asked the question. Despite not knowing how or why they got the prize, the goat was still... curious. Without even looking in Susie's way, he knew that she was equally as curious, if not more so.

Before the monster or the Darkner could say anything, Kris shifted their face toward the fluffy goat boy, almost robotically. If it weren't for the fact that they immediately turned their attention to Ralsei and shoved the present box into their arms, he would've thought that Kris was making fun of him.

In that moment, however, Ralsei was.. thankful. More than thankful, actually.

“...H-huh?! You're giving to... me..?” There was no denying the blush that started to glow through his snowy white fur, barely able to even hold the gift within his hands. “Kris... I...I...” He stammered, unable to find his words, ready to fumble the wrapped box. “...I've never gotten a gift like this before..!”

He felt the eyes of Susie and Kris bore into him as he stood there, dumbly staring at the box with shaky hands. Susie looked... quite impatient, as if expecting him to open the gift immediately, though Kris remained stoic as usual. Almost as stoic as Noelle... who had been standing with a box over her head, for one reason or another.

Feeling pressured, the boy couldn't help but turn away, starting to tuck the box into his robe's pockets. “Uh-ummmm... I'm sorry...” He apologized, turning away to hide his flustered face. He also took the time to wipe his weepy eyes with a free hand, muttering the rest of his thoughts. “I'm so happy, I don't really know what to say..!”

Feeling awkward and... unworthy, just standing in place, Ralsei turned back to Kris, a renewed vigor brightening up his face. “I... I'll win something for you too, okay?!” He promised the human Lightner, eagerly scurrying to the nearest stand to collect a baseball of his own. Even in his moment of gratitude, he wanted to let Kris know how thankful he was to receive a gift! He didn't even wait a second before attempting to win a prize for the heroic human... even if it was for naught, revealing yet another Lightner friend of theirs...

_______________________

“...yeah. T-thanks, Kris,” Ralsei sighed, his smile dropping as he stared with a forlorn frown. His hands shook even harder, his claws digging into the paper somewhat as he stared. One side of him wanted to shred open the paper, or at least neatly tear open the sides so that he could fold it up and save it for later. Perhaps to wrap a gift for his friends?

Right as he was considering what to even give his pals, the other side of his mental state quickly butted in. It's voice was not as thoughtful nor kind.

“They were doing it out of obligation. Out of pity.”

The prince remained in place, his eyes staring upon the box, feeling his hands shake even harder. A discomforting silence permeated the empty room as Ralsei continued to stare at the gift, unsure if he was even allowed to open it. Heck, part of him thought it was a cruel practical joke. Even with these doubtful thoughts buzzing around his mind, he began to shake his head in a defiant manner. “...n-no!” He stated aloud. “T-this is a gift from Kris! T-they wouldn't be so mean! Would they..?” He asked himself, feeling more and more unsure of his own thoughts. With one hand, the prince held the parcel, placing his other on top of the box. “...w-well, whatever is inside then... m-maybe I... I deserve whatever is in this box!”

With only minor hesitation, Ralsei closed his eyes, instantly beginning to shred apart the wrapping paper haphazardly. Naturally, his logic dictated that the box was, in fact, not empty. Not that it helped deter his anxieties as he began to open the box itself. “Probably a... a rotten cake... or some garbage! W-why did I ever think that there would be-”

Ralsei opened his eyes as he opened the box, slowly peeking inside. His inner musings halted, eyes widening as he fully recognized what was inside. He let out a soft gasp, slowly reaching in with his free hand.

“...oh my gosh is... is th-that... this...?”

Forgetting about any plan to save the box for later, the goat boy gently gripped the prize within, letting the box tumble uselessly to the ground. As it did so, he gently held onto his new prize with both hands. His eyes were wide, and were starting to grow itchy with emotion. A lump in his throat formed, barely able to express his current thoughts.

“...is this me..?”

Sure enough, the prize within the box was a small, cuddly plush toy of the dark prince himself. Obviously, it was far smaller and stouter than the goat himself, though much of the features were the same. Its green robe was baggy and large, covering up most of its body, though impossibly soft, white fur covered the exposed hands and head. A small, silky smooth pink scarf was wrapped around the neck as well, adding to its similarities. Cute, red horns were adorned at the top, as well. A set of green felt-covered wire formed into the shape similar to his round glasses, which rested atop the plush's snout (without lenses, naturally). The plush expressed a simple, adorable smile upon its maw, with two black, beady eyes sewn on, and two, cute pink blush stickers on the cheeks to complete the toy.

For a moment, Ralsei didn't know how to express-

“I LOVE it!” He cried out instantly, hugging the plush toy of himself against his chest. He began to dance around cutely, giggling as he snuggled his newfound present. “Its... its so soft! Is this how my fur feels? Oh, a-and the clothes are the same material as mine!” He exclaimed excitedly, playing around with its adorable little limbs. “Ahaha! O-oh my gosh, oh my gosh! Thank you thank you thank you, Kris! I can even start a whole collection! I..! I...”

Ralsei stopped dancing, his eager smile soon drooping as his grip began to tremble once again. Feeling his mood drop, his arms did the same, falling at his side, with one hand holding onto the plush toy loosely. The prince looked down at his floor with a sad, numb expression.

“...I don't deserve this.”

He sniffled a couple of times, feeling his eyes sting with tears once again. He attempted to wipe his eyes with his free hand, trying to ignore the pangs of sorrow that racked his body. It was difficult. Next to impossible, even. Regardless, he attempted to flash a smile to no one in particular. Even without a mirror, the pain that it took him to do so let him know that his 'happiness' was anything but.

“...w-why would a... a Darkner like... like me...” He began, looking towards his open window. His mind lingered on his 'role' in the prophecy, knowing that without it, he was good for practically nothing. “...need s-such a w-w-wonderful toy like this, anyways..?”

Ralsei couldn't help but let out a few sobs, burying his face into his arm. With a quick turn, the prince thoughtlessly tossed the plush of himself into the corner of his room, turning towards the window once more. He couldn't see anything through his green, tear-stained sleeves, now using both arms to try and hide himself.

“Af-after all... w-we should b-b-be happy k-knowing that the Luh-Lightners are happy..!” He sniffled, attempting to comfort himself. “I-I'd be a... a bad friend if I a-allowed myself to think that anything else could replace that feeling..!”

For a few seconds, Ralsei remained silent, attempting to pull his hands away from his weepy eyes. He let out a shaky sigh, smiling gently as he tried to get his mind off of the entire event. It worked... for a moment. Suddenly, the poor boy fell onto his backside, burying his face into his hands once again. This time, he openly wailed. Loudly. Any words he attempted to blubber out were completely unintelligible.

“Ralsei, y-you selfish selfish fool..!” He thought. “W-why did you say that to them, anyways?! I-it's like you were begging them to give it to you! Y-you should've kept your b-b-big dumb mouth shut! You tricked Kris into giving you a gift..! Susie deserves this present, not you!” The prince's sorrowful howls soon lowered to gasps and gulps as he attempted to steady his breathing, his cheeks stained with tears.

As the prince grappled with his heavily conflicted emotions, he pulled his teary eyes away from his palms to look back in the corner of his empty room. The only object that met his vision was the plush toy, which was still laying limply on its side. In an instant, the Darkner felt a fresh wave of guilt, quickly scrambling to his feet and hurrying over to the discarded toy. Even if his wailing fits of crying had sapped most of his energy away, he still moved as quickly as possible, barely able to keep himself from stumbling somewhat as he ran.

“O-oh dear... I'm sorry..!” He said with a sad whisper. Ralsei carefully picked up the plush, using one hand to dust off it's little robe. Naturally, it said nothing. The plush toy looked up at the prince with it's simple eyes, its bright, oblivious smile still pleasantly welcoming.

It was as if it were saying, 'It's okay, Ralsei! I forgive you!'

The goat boy couldn't help but notice how smudged and dirty his glasses lens had gotten from his constant crying. As he stared into the plush's face he couldn't help but attempt to mimic its smile. Tears continued to fall down his cheeks, though the only noises Ralsei was able to make were sniffles and gentle hiccups.

“...gosh... I... I really am selfish, huh?” He sighed, speaking to his new – and only – possession. His thumbs gently felt through the cute tuft of white hair atop the plush's head as he let out a few soft, mirthless laughs. “I... I know that I shouldn't want this. I certainly don't need it...” The Prince mused aloud, unable to keep himself from squishing the tiny, red horns that adorned the toy. He then gently pushed the toy into his neck, nuzzling it with his chin. “...but it does make me feel good...” He thought, sighing sadly as he sat down once again.

Ralsei cuddled with the toy, his face still wet from all of the tears he had been shedding. Slowly, Ralsei closed his eyes, gently humming a quiet lullaby – the one he often used in battles – as his horrible, self-loathing thoughts began to dissipate. Not entirely, but at least he wasn't completely bogged down by negativity.

“...if mini-me can keep smiling... then so can I.” Ralsei didn't want to open his eyes, growing more and more sleepy with each passing second. “I...I'll never give up on my friends... I'll make them proud..! Then... then I'll finally deserve this...” Slowly the prince laid on his side, curling into the plushie as he started to drift off to sleep.

“...thank you, Kris. I'm sorry for being so selfish.”

[hopeamarsu]

Of potions and myths - Chapter 4

William “Ironhead” Miller x f!reader

Word count 3,6k

Warnings: Some insecurities, some angst, a lot of talking

A/N: We finally meet the elders and start to get into the bottom of what is happening. Basically a lot of talking happens. 

Chapter 3 - Chapter 5

Six new people step inside Pope’s living room, making it feel very crowded. You watch them silently as they approach you, the hand on your hip tightening as the room settles. The connection feels frantic now, bouncing between your bodies as it tries to make sense of your emotions. He’s nervous, just like you are, you realize as you catalogue them. It feels daunting to come to this conclusion about the man who has kept a level head so far and has been a rock of calmness for you.   

“Hmm… I sense a power in this room.” One of the elders speaks in a low tone. He steps closer to you, cocking his head to the side as his honey-brown eyes search for your soul inside. You refuse to back down, no matter how scared you are, and face him. 

Will grips you tighter, his own eyes flashing to red quickly as the man comes closer and closer, until you are practically nose to nose. A warning growl rumbles out of his chest, but the elder only chuckles in response. He raises a hand to place it on Will’s shoulder and it looks like the Captain barely keeps himself in check and doesn’t bite the offending weight off. 

“Calm down, William. I mean your mate no harm.”

Mate? What mate? 

“What do you mean, mate?” Will asks, echoing your thoughts. The elder chuckles again before stepping back a little, releasing his hand on Will’s shoulder, and you can see the tension in his back muscles ease minutely. It’s still there, brimming under the surface, but now that the man has backed up, it’s easier to breathe.

From the corner of your eye, you see Pope, Frankie and Benny move closer to you, flanking your sides in support. This time Will doesn’t growl when Benny brushes your shoulder quickly with his own and you file the information for later investigation.

“I can feel the mating bond between you two. It’s very unusual that it’s even here, the bond hasn’t been recorded in centuries.” He muses and the others murmur something amongst themselves. They seem to converse in broken words and sentences, leaving you and Will and his brothers out of it.   

“I’m sorry, I don’t follow,” You finally pipe up, growing more confused by the minute. Another elder steps forward and gestures for all to sit. “My apologies, my child. You are not one of us and this is something many of us have forgotten also since it’s been buried for so long.” She has a sweet voice, soft and calming. You feel somewhat better as she takes the lead.  

“Please sit down. I will answer any questions you have, if you answer ours in return.” 

You follow her words, pulling Will with you to the loveseat. Benny takes the armrest closest to you and Frankie the other, Pope choosing to remain standing behind you. Despite any worries or hesitations they might have of you, they will stand by their brother it seems and it warms you from inside out. 

“Many centuries ago, the bond was a way of finding out the most compatible companion. A mate.” She begins.

”An unmated wolf would feel a pull, a connection, with the one best suited for them. The connection would grow over time, sometimes manifesting in the physical appearance of colored tendrils until a bond was fully formed. Mated couples often reported being able to feel extreme emotions from one another and if and when the other half of a mated pair died, the other never took another.”

So far you can tick off every box from the list. You chance a look at Will, but he’s looking intently at the elder speaking. As the crowd remains silent, she continues. 

“But as the bond was so rare in the first place, it slowly became rarer and rarer as time went on and wolves stopped looking for the clues, finding alternative means of securing a partner. I think the last recorded bond between two people is over 300 years old. And it’s never been recorded between creatures either.”

She glances in your direction, her eyes knowing something that you don’t. You cock an eyebrow at her choice of words, but choose not to comment. Will also remains silent, not divulging your status which you are grateful of as the elder continues. 

“The only thing that remains is that once a wolf has a partner, a mate, it is for life. Santiago, you are familiar with the wows of our clan when someone chooses a partner. Tenebo te in corde meo usque in sempiternum. Tu solus. The bond is where they originate from.” (I will hold you forever in my heart. Only you.)

You recognize the words to be Latin, though some of the meaning is lost on you. Judging by the sharp intakes of breaths from all the men around you, they are valued highly. 

The elder isn’t finished yet though. Her eyes slowly turn yellow as she regards you. “How did this originate? How long have you felt this between you?” She asks gently.

“We met last night,” You tell her and witness several raised eyebrows as the timeframe registers. “He saved me from an, let’s call it an unfortunate event, and when we spoke outside, I started to feel this pull towards him. It’s hard to resist it and it grows as we become closer.” 

“Closer?” 

“For example, when we touch, skin on skin, there are these golden and silver tendrils all over our bodies.” 

To demonstrate, Will traces your forearm with his finger and everyone in the room watches as a silver line appears, followed by a golden one. They dance and glow on your skin before disappearing after he lifts his finger off, fading away slowly. “The longer and more, uh, intimate the touch, the more vibrant the colors are. And the longer they stay visible.”

Pope coughs behind you and Frankie snickers at the words, but a sharp look from Will shuts both men up quickly. The elders seem nonplussed at the information, almost as if they were expecting it, and the man who previously studied you leans forward. 

He starts firing off questions, about the intensity of the colors, the pattern and how long the tendrils stay on the skin after the touch ends and if you have any other symptoms. You and Will both try to answer as best as you can, with Benny piping up when it comes to the length of time but a lot of it is still shrouded in mystery.

It feels almost like an inquisition as the rest of the elders join in on the questions. You lose track of how many you answer and you can feel Will feel the same, the irritation running off him in waves. You talk about your past, your studies and your work, the emotions that have transferred over, how it affects you when the emotions hit you. You describe the dizziness, the magnetic pull, the happiness in the hum as you are close.

Will talks about his desire to protect, the warmth of the tendrils as they move on his body and the hunger that makes his wolf crawl and pounce in his chest, wanting to be let loose. He describes the anger he felt at the pub when he understood what would happen and the physical pull he felt to stay outside of your door and the worry he felt as your knees buckled when the wave of his emotions hit you. 

When they are finally out of questions, you feel like slumping back to the couch in exhaustion. It’s almost like you’ve just ran a marathon and recited your entire dissertation at the same time. Benny hands you a bottle of water from the kitchen which you chug down eagerly, your throat parched. From the corner of your eye, you see Will do the same, emptying half of the bottle in a few gulps. 

But there is something inside you, a question that burns in your mind that is begging to be let out. You turn towards the woman. “You spoke of the bond being between two wolves. But I am not a wolf, nor is anyone in my family. Actually, I’m nothing at all, just a mundane. Why has the bond decided to connect us?” Beside you, Will lets out a huff of disapproval, clearly disagreeing with your notion that you are nothing, but you ignore it now. You can grapple over details later. 

“It’s a very good question, my child. But clearly the bond knows more than what we do now. The connection has always been rare and not all wolves experience it. So it’s not to say other creatures, or even mundanes such as you, experience it too but in a very rare form.” She looks at her peers, something flashing in her eyes before continuing hesitantly.

“Maybe…”

Will intejects quickly. “Maybe what?”

“Maybe you need to try and complete the bond to see what happens. If it takes or if it was only a false alarm.” She offers finally, after a long moment of silence. You feel like the wind is knocked out of you. It sounds very ominous and there is even a chance that all this is for nothing? Your shock must show in your face, because she is hasty to continue. 

“We are walking on uncharted territory here, so we don’t exactly know what is going to come once the attempt to complete the bond is made. So I would advise you to think carefully if you want to proceed with this. Once the decision is made, you would complete it here, within our pack grounds for safety.”

You mull over her words, trying to organize your thoughts. You feel Will reach out to you, surely with questions of his own but your next one slips out before you can fully comprehend the possible damage they might do.

“And should we want to break this connection?”

Your words hang in the air but it feels like a bomb has gone off. You feel Benny turn to look at you, his eyes burning on your face, and Pope lets out an involuntary sound of protest. The elders all look at you in surprise and you can feel your ears buzzing with static as they register what you just asked. 

You start to open your mouth to explain you only want to know the options available but the body next to you jumping to his feet and stomping out of the house stops that in its tracks. You all watch as the broad shoulders disappear outside the house and a door slams in its wake.

You wince and hunch your own shoulders forward as you wish you’d stayed silent, maybe bought in your stones to help. You could really use a little extra now that the three men turn to look at you with disapproval. 

Will doesn’t look at anyone as he rushes out, feeling the tightness in his chest spread rapidly. He can hardly breathe properly and as he leans over the terrace railing, he can feel the agitation of his wolf as the animal weeps and howls inside him. 

He doesn’t see it but he knows that his eyes are flashing rapidly and he can feel the need to shift, to run and be alone in the woods. It itches under his skin, clawing out to change skin into fur and fingers into paws. He paces the porch, opening and closing his fists to stop himself from shifting in broad daylight.  

Is he alone with his thoughts, his dreams, his hopes? Surely he must, because you can so easily ask about breaking the bond. Like this isn’t it for you like it is for him. 

He knows it’s crazy to feel this way, to want something so big and grand after such a short time. He can’t help himself though and his wolf agrees; he’s fallen in love and he’s not going to change his mind. 

It feels so different compared to all the times he’s had a girlfriend. Even the one time he had a fiancée, someone he thought he was ready to commit to, even then it didn’t feel like this. The burst of warmth he feels whenever you look at him, the undeniable pull he has when you aren’t touching each other and the mere idea that you don’t want this leaving a gaping wound on his heart. It has taken over him completely and he has willingly surrendered to it.

He thinks about his former lover, wincing at the final memory in the parking lot of Publix after the altercation, trying to find differences between that relationship and what is budding here. 

Had the bond been there even then? Was that the reason his fiancée left, why he couldn’t calm himself down in her presence? Why she had to jump on his back and still it wasn’t enough to break his grip? Was he not damaged goods and a complete failure in love after all? Or worse yet, was he because it seemed so easy for you to talk about breaking the connection?   

A soft tap on his shoulder makes him whirl around and face Frankie, who looks sheepish at being sent over to check on him. 

“You good?” The other man winces when the words leave his lips, he can clearly tell from the agitated look Will is sporting that the blond man is definitely not good. He just shakes his head and rubs the back of his neck, gazing off somewhere behind Frankie’s shoulder. Slowly Will gathers his thoughts, using the skills taught to him to place all his worries into tiny little compartments in his mind. He lets out a breath and counts them for later, before turning to his brother. 

“Not really. Did the elders give out the instructions to break the bond yet?” 

He sounds defeated even to his own ears but there’s nothing to be done about it now. Despite the want and need and desire to go all the way, whatever the completion of the bond means, if you won’t do it, neither will he. He won’t force it, never can and never will, and he will respect your decision. 

“No. The elders are talking with one another now, gathering all the needed information so you can talk with your mate and make a choice. You know the question needed to be asked, deep down.”

“Yeah.” Frankie is right, Will admits to himself. The logical side of him wins out, but the sting of rejection is still there. 

“At this point we don’t even know what it will take for you to try and complete it. But you acting like this, all out of character, doesn’t do any good. Your mate is just as distressed as you are about this, possibly even more considering this is all so new and unexpected, and I can smell the conflicted emotions on both of you. Find out the options, talk it out, make a decision together. It’s the only way any of this can work.”  

“Mmmmm.”

“You know I’m right, hermano.”

“Don’t let it go to your head, Fish, it won’t do you any good.” Will smirks as he claps his brother on the back and the other man only grins wolfishly in return before guiding them back in. 

You sit and wait quietly inside, shoulders tight, mulling over your own thoughts. You wish you were with your books in your tiny cupboard of an office back at the museum, helping the elders figure it all out but you suspect that something this intimate would’ve been recorded into writing. 

What does it take to complete a bond? You shift through your mind, trying to think of bonding spells but most of the ones you know only bind two inanimate objects to one another or help with the natural bond created in nature. Nothing about two humans, mythicals or not, connecting on a level deeper than normal. .

But would you want to break it or complete it? That is the million dollar question. Both surely have their risks but ultimately it is about if you want him in your life and if he has those same feelings. And your feelings are all jumbled up and you can’t help but to wonder if they are real or a byproduct of the connection.

As the two men return to the room and take their places, it feels icy cold when Will doesn’t touch you, choosing to sit as far as possible from you. You want to reach out, explain yourself and your thoughts, talk to him freely but he refuses to glance at you, keeping his head high and aimed forward. You are resigned back to silence as you wait for the elders to return with more news. 

The only sound is the ticking clock on the wall as all of you are wrapped in your minds. It ticks forwards slowly but surely and as the hour chimes a change, one of the elders return into the room. He isn’t the one from before, but a short and stocky man with a gentle expression on his face and keen eyes, something that distantly reminds you of Pope. He faces your group huddled in the loveseat and behind it. 

“May I speak to William and his mate alone?” He asks, aiming his words to Will’s brothers. They all nod and vacate the room with touches of support for him. Benny twists his body to hug Will, his eyes flashing blue again. He gives you a look, something that is hard to decipher, as he mumbles something into the older man’s ear before releasing him. 

You both want to know what he said but also not. It can’t have been too good if his eyes changed. You have come to the conclusion the shift in color is triggered by something, maybe emotional triggers or more. Yet another thing you don’t understand yet, you think dejected. 

Once the room is empty, the man sits in the armchair. He seems to ponder his words carefully, trying to decide the best course of action and you wait, holding your breath. The silence grates your nerves. If only you had your stones with you, but you hadn’t thought to pick them up. Usually you didn’t need them unless there was a special occasion and the whirlwind of the morning had swept you away. So you can only mumble out a small calming spell and hope for a placebo effect.

“We have a tentative idea of what the completion of the bond is. There are some details that are missing, but we are in talks with the other packs to fill them out. We also have an idea on how to proceed should you want to break it. But I must warn you, going down that road will be complicated and painful as it requires separating your souls and making sure they never reach out to one another again.”

The elder pauses, his eyes turning calculating. He looks at Will first and the man faces him head-on, the soldier inside him coming to life as he shuts down his emotions. His jaw is tight and his shoulders set, the air around him still. 

You watch the transformation and when it clicks, it chills you to the bone. You are no longer in the presence of Will, but with Captain William Miller of the Delta Force. A man or wolf no more, but a war machine, with a single thought in his mind; to complete the mission. There are no if’s or but’s, he will take the instruction and decision and execute it to perfection. 

The elder turns to look at you, his eyes searching for something in you. Whether he finds it or not, you cannot tell, but the elder breaks the connection after a while and turns away from you.

“To break it, you’ll each drink a potion every night for seven nights and on the eighth, you will perform a ritual to separate your souls from one another. After it is done, you’ll be escorted home and you can never return here. William, you will be escorted home also, but you cannot return to the places you’ve been together. For the rest of your lives, you’ll need to take extreme care not to bump into one another as it will be most painful if you do.”

He pauses as he lets the words sink in, watching with interest as the soldier listening to orders doesn’t flinch but you do, your eyes once again betraying the worry inside you. 

“Should you want to complete it, you would need to make your souls bare and intertwine them to one another. This can be achieved by giving into these urges you feel.”

“Urges?” Will speaks finally, the word coming out clipped and void of emotion. You wince internally, but try to keep your face blank so as to not alarm anyone. If this is going where you think it is going, the next words will confirm your theory that sprung up in your mind as soon as the elder mentioned souls.

“You will need to be intimate with one another. As in have sex. And he will have to bite you as you reach an orgasm. This will bind you to one another for as long as you live.” 

The shock on your face is clearly written as you fully understand the words and the meaning behind them. Wait, what? He’s going to bite you?

*

Of potions and myths taglist: @mylifeisactuallyamess @luxmundee @innerpaperexpertcloud

Everything taglist (I fully understand if you want to skip this one, please let me know and I’ll remove you!) @clydesducktape @wayward-rose @themuseic @miraclesabound @clydesfavoritegirl @a-true-janian-reply  @10blurredsmoke10  @caillea @mariesackler @princessxkenobi​

[scribe-the-write-thing]

Hey, it’s ya girl, back at it again with some more OCs discussed with @autophagic , who’s already seen this but heyo. Here I bring something I’m naming A knight with shining scales.   I hope you guys like a Princess Kwenthryth (also known as Nimueh) and her dragon(shifter) knight / girlfriend / target of far too much pining, Remiel.

A lil passage containing: pining, idiots-to-lovers, wlw who need to stop being fools and KISS already, discussion of royal names and the weird world of feudalism and nobility.

-

Kwenthryth had always thought that the crown weighing heavy on the heads of those who wore it was merely a metaphor -- some representation of the pressures that came with the throne, with heading the court and holding an entire kingdom in the balance. 

A while, yes, that certainly was too -- oh, was that overwhelmingly and terribly true, it was far more than some allegory. It’s difficult to balance properly, weighted gold threatening to slide and crash heavily onto the floor. She has to keep her head upright and straight to be even marginally comfortable, and it feels as if, if she tilts even slightly, her neck might just break under the pressure. Wouldn’t that be a sight for a coronation?  (Though, she supposed, that was the whole point of practising; to not make a fool of herself right away).

She adjusts it, carefully, on her head, and it indeed weighs heavy on her head.

Far too heavy. Both literally and metaphorically. She wonders, faintly, if it being uncomfortable is part of the point; if it’s meant to be some sort of reminder.

If she was more awake, if she felt less sick to her stomach and more in the mood to be clever, she may just have been able to come up with a quip about it all. 

She had tried - admittedly, in vain - to argue against wearing it at all. Wouldn’t a lighter crown be better? A new reign, a shedding of the old-- a new crown would surely be better, wouldn't it? 

Her advisors hadn’t appreciated the sentiment -- blathering on about traditions and their importance, and they had gone on so long that Kwenthryth had been forced to just laugh and pretend she had been making some bad joke. And that idea had been soundly quashed there; if she brought it up again, one of the chancellors might just magic up a way to enchant the damn thing to stay there permanently. 

She adjusts the crown again, before tucking a stray strand of hair back behind her ear, observing herself in the mirror for a few more seconds before sighing, deeply, gaze flickering to look over her shoulder in the reflection, watching the figure standing there -- on guard and alert as ever. And she can’t help the small smile that plays on her lips.

Kwenthryth turns, slowly, careful not to jostle the crown; she’ll have to get used to moving with it on, she supposes. She can only grimly imagine the embarrassment of it toppling off mid-speech during her council meeting -- the last thing she needed was any more reason for those superstitious old men to doubt her ability to reign. 

“How do I look?” She asks, with a half-smile that’s more like a grimace -- everything about it feels awkward, as if she’s an imposter taking the place of whoever should actually be here instead. 

Remiel’s gaze is fixed on her, intense as ever -- though there’s a hint of… something, almost like stunned but not quite, within the look. 

“You look…” Remiel pauses, seems to grapple for words -- and Kwenthryth hopes that that’s a good thing, that she’s not trying to come up with some white lie or politely word criticism. “... Queenly.” It what she settles on eventually. 

Kwenthryth can’t help the snort that escapes her at that -- good-humoured and soft.

“I would hope so.” She says, with a hum. “Looking the part is at least the minimum.”

Remiel huffs, nervously, and Kwenthryth can see the faint tint of a blush rising to her cheeks, pink flushing as she straightens up more, adjusts herself, seemingly flustered. 

“I- I meant that- of course you’ve always looked regal-” Remiel bites her lip, fidgeting from side to side, and Kwenthryth feels the urge to move forward and soothe her anxieties- “You- you look beautiful.” It’s said quickly, and there’s some flicker of regret on the knight’s expression immediately after, some anxious energy bubbling beneath the surface. “Not that you don’t always look amazing, you do but…” She trails off, just watching Kwenthryth back for a while.

It’s Kwenthryth’s turn to blush, then. 

It’s more than just warmth across her cheeks, though -- she feels the burst of affection and… something, in her chest, too, along with that familiar fluttering in her abdomen.

“You think I’m beautiful?” She asks, quietly; the question falling from her lips before she can even think, before she can consider properly if she should ask it. Beauty was a thing she seemed to be ever chasing, yet never reaching. No matter what, some criticism would be made. True, she had been called fair by many of the court and outside of it, but she could never know for sure whether such compliments were genuine, or the work of sycophants wishing to grow closer to her. 

Oh, and just when she hadn’t thought it possible for Remiel to flush any deeper -- the flustered nature is cute, really, even if she doesn’t completely understand why things are spiralling like this. If anything, shouldn’t Kwenthryth be the one more flustered? She’s the one complimented, after all-

“I- well- I-” Remiel shifts, one hand moving to scratch at the back of her neck, and her gaze has shifted to fix on some spot on the floor. “Of course I do- I mean- you are- I don’t mean to step out of line, I-”

“Please, don’t apologise.” Kwenthryth soothes, with a grin that she hopes is reassuring, moving closer to Remiel, careful step by careful step -- both out of necessity to keep the crown in place, and so as not to alarm her. “You’re not stepping out of line at all. I… I really appreciate it.” It feels different when Remiel says it; more than just some standard compliment, something said merely because it’s polite. It feels real. “I- if it means anything; I… think you’re beautiful too.” 

Gods, how had Kwenthryth ever thought that she wasn’t? It was a different beauty to most ladies of the court perhaps -- something more wild, powerful, all might and oh-so-gorgeous strength. Kwenthryth can remember seeing her during combat training- 

She shakes the thoughts from her head before she’s too lost in them. 

Remiel’s looking at her again, expression confused, unsure, as if she thinks this might be some sort of joke- and it’s only now Kwenthryth takes note of how close they are, because Remiel is having to look down at her. 

“I- you’re too kind-” the knight begins, sounding doubtful already, and Kwenthryth elects to shut down that doubt as quick as she can-

“I meant it.” She tells her, firmly. “You are. You’re… the most beautiful person I know.” She utters it almost like a confession -- some secret she’s held. “Inside and out.” She adds, quietly.

Silence settles then, and Kwenthryth feels a flighty panic take hold in her heart; just how awkward has she made this now?

“Sorry- I… perhaps I overstepped there…” 

“No- it’s- it’s alright-” Remiel exhales a laugh, though it’s shaky. A little bewildered. “That means a lot, coming from you, your hi- Kwen.”

Kwenthryth quirks a smile at the catch -- the adjustment, however slow, feels nice. More casual. But still-

“You know, if you wanted, you could call me Nimueh-” Her real name, the thing buried under the grandeur of the royal name, one she often forgot herself. “-I think that everyone else will only know Kwenthryth. Not many will remember Nimueh” Kwenthryth was a name earned, a name chosen -- but Nimueh felt like home, some rooted thing she could go back to when the title felt too much. “I should like it if you were one of the few that did.” True names were an intimacy -- the sorcerers of old said there was magic in a name, and perhaps that was partially true. 

“That- that’s a great honour-”

“One I see fit for my closest friend,” Kwenthryth reassures, feeling another flutter in her chest at the little intake of breath that gets her. “Think of it as returning the favour.” She gives a shrug. “I consider it a great honour that you remain my companion.”

“Are you sure? It feels far too-” Remiel shakes her head, not finding the word she’s looking for, but looking thoroughly… well, overwhelmed. “... intimate.”

Would intimacy be such a bad thing? Is the first thought that flitters through Kwenthryth’s mind-

“Alright,” is what she says, however, “perhaps we should focus on just Kwen for now, and work up our way from there?” She offers, amusedly. 

“That… That sounds good.” Remiel says, with a nod, returning her smile. “I agree, Kwen.” Her name’s said more confidently this time, more sure. “I’m glad that you view me as a friend- I think of you as mine, too- Not that I’m not also your guard but-”

She isn’t quite sure what’s driven her forwards -- whether it’s the flustered look, the compliments still swirling in her head, a way to still the nervous, awkward scramble for the right thing to say or a mix of them all, but Kwenthryth has moved herself forward, rising up on her tip-toes and letting her eyes flutter closed as her lips meet Remiel’s.

What am I doing?

It’s her last thought, before she loses herself in the feeling -- she’s warm, her lips soft, and it feels so right that it’s sending bursts of tingling energy bursting in her chest. All she can think of is questioning why she didn’t do this sooner, when it feels oh-so-perfect, as if it’s the only place she should be. For a while, she feels Remiel pause, only for a beat-

Then there comes the best part -- the fact she’s kissing back. She’s accepting this, she wants Kwenthryth, too. That’s enough to make her heart soar, to make her lean in deeper, sighing softly as she feels Remiel’s arm wrap around her waist, protective and yet so gentle. She encircles an arm around her shoulder in turn, pressing herself closer, and she hears the crown slip and fall to the floor behind her, but by now, she doesn’t care. 

The kiss is chaste, soft and simple, and yet more than enough, and they only break for air -- both of their breathing slightly shallow, blushes for the both of them flushed deeper than ever. 

With the pumping adrenaline gone, it’s only then that the flighty panic of before, the fear of awkwardness, comes crashing back in like a wave-

What had she just done? 

Remiel is just staring at her, wide-eyed, lips slightly parted, looking as if she’s still not fully recovered-

“I-” Kwenthryth tries to start, but her sentence dies in her throat. What would even be right to say?

She doesn’t know why - she doesn’t know why she’s done anything, now -, but instead of speaking, she quickly swoops down for the crown again, faintly relieved but not truly caring that it’s not dented, and settling it back on her head. She readjusts her hair, smoothes out her dress, as if nothing happened.

“I should get to my meeting. The council are probably waiting-”

“K- Kwen-” Remiel starts, sounding incredulous, voice still quivering slightly. 

“I’ll- I’ll see you later,” she says, trying to lower her tone into some seriousness. “I promise. You… meet me in my room, if that’s okay?” She tries for a grin, some feigned casuality as she moves by, focusing on reaching the door before she can make any further decisions without thinking them through. “Just- meet me after, Queen’s orders, hm?”

She has to joke, in all this mess of her own cause. She doesn’t even know what she feels, whether she did right, had Remiel even really kissed back or had that been some imagining? Why had she even followed through on the thought to do that? Why had she even had the thought in the first place?

Bheric always did say she had a way of making things far more confusing than they had to be -- here, she supposes, is the evidence.  Being a Queen wasn’t easy; and yet here she was, seemingly wanting to make it harder for herself.

Gods, just how was she going to be able to get through a council with this spinning in her mind? So much for a decently focused first day. 

What a brilliant start to her reign.

[prettyfunkyunorganized]

Christmas Daughter Series - Reaper

I’m so busy I wanna fall apart! But it’s the holidays, so I HAVE to post a few Daughter Series posts! Reaper is first up. I know I just did a Reaper post, but he’s the only guy I’ve got ready tonight. Sorry! Hope you enjoy nonetheless!

More Daughter Series: Hanzo, Roadhog, McCree, Reaper, Soldier 76, Genji

Halloween Daughter Series: Roadhog, McCree, Reaper, Genji

Reaper installments: pt 1, pt 2

Christmas Daughter Series: Roadhog

“I’ve got to get another place,” Reaper growled to himself, “a place where no one will drag me to things like this.”

It was Christmas Eve night, meaning Talon was having their annual holiday party and good fucking god. These people had no control. None. Who invited all the low ranking low lives? All of them! This was the largest warehouse in the base, and it was packed to the brim. And who decided on the music? And what the hell was with this obnoxious light show? And an open bar?! With these people?!

“This place is going to a mess tomorrow,” he sighed, watching Sombra drunkenly try to fight a woman twice her size. Then tried to kiss her. She was going to have quite the hangover in the morning and the only thing worse than regular Sombra, is a salty Sombra. “Guess I’ll be avoiding her – well, more than usual.”

From his perch on a high up balcony, Reaper could see most everyone below. Doomfist was lounging by the bar with an onslaught of women trying to win his favor while he toyed with their hearts. Widowmaker has been swapping between sipping copious amounts of wine and dancing in the middle of the everyone with reckless abandon. She had been getting sloppier as the night went on, needing more and more room for her flailing arms. There were a few other people Reaper recognized from one mission or another, some keeping their cool, some not. One was already vomiting out back. Looked like just about everyone accounted for, even Maximilien was sitting in the corner in one of his finest suits. Only one person missing.

He tapped his foot impatiently, eyeing the door. “Sunshine, where are you?”

There was a small clink and some whirring before Amelie hopped onto the metal scaffolding above the festivities. “You always find the best hiding spots,” she said as she approached.

“I’ve been at this a while,” Reaper replied with a dry laugh. “What are you doing up here? You seemed to be almost enjoying yourself.”

“I am not, but they have a number of wonderful vintages being served, and liquor always makes me restless,” she explained, leaning on the railing beside him. “I need to move when I’m drunk. You know that.”

“That I do, that I do,” he chuckled. Widowmaker may be odd, strange, and downright unsettling, but she was still a decent associate. Infinitely more tolerable than most. She was quiet, straightforward, professional, and complete frigid bitch. Before Sonya came along, the blue sniper was about the closest thing Reaper had to a companion. They still had sessions where the two of them would bundle up in enough clothing to hide their bizarre appearances and snark about passersby in the city, usually with a couple of flasks.

“Do you plan on scowling down on the rest of us all night,” she asked.

“Maybe.”

Amelie began to sway with the music. “Waiting for Sonya, then?”

“Maybe.”

“I’m sure she will be here eventually. Your child is much more sociable than you and I. More willing to keep up with appearances,” she said, almost as if comforting Reaper, but he knew better. She was stating the facts, not being nice. Amelie didn’t do nice.

“Speak of the devil,” Reaper murmured as Sonya came entered the warehouse fashionably late and looking stunning. She wore a dress in her favorite deep crimson color that flared out at her slim waist, satin falling just below her knees. Her hair was dolled up in two careful braids adorned with gold leaves while the rest of her long dark hair cascaded down her back and shoulders. The large black, faux fur coat made her look like something off the cover of a prestigious magazine. Black heels and gold jewelry finished her ensemble, cementing the fact that she was the best-dressed person in the room.

“That girl does take after you, doesn’t she,” Widowmaker said thoughtfully. “All dramatic entrances and over the top style.”

Reaper scoffed, “You’re one to talk with your grappling hook and half exposed tits!”

She shrugged. “True. At least your girl has good taste.”

“Do you mean to say I don’t,” he snarled.

“No,” Amelie said moving toward the ledge of the balcony, “but I do find your mask to be less than fearsome.”

“You don’t even feel fear,” Reaper snapped.

“Still,” the tall woman shrugged before gracefully dropping to the ground and heading back to the dance floor.

“I forget how much of a bitch you can be,” he said shaking his head in amusement. Sonya was looking around curiously, ignoring a few men and women who had made flirtatious advances. Reaper turned to mist and floated to the floor below, waiting by the edge of the bar for her. She joined him with a wide smile.

“About time you showed up,” he chided her jokingly.

“Look, I don’t get a lot of opportunities to get all fancied up, so I took my time. And, ya know, I’d rather be at home anyway so I may have taken a while longer than I needed with my make up,” Sonya admitted.

“Well your efforts were worth it, Sunshine,” he chuckled.

“You like it,” she asked, scrunching her face worriedly and looking down at her outfit. “It’s not too much? I almost didn’t wear the coat – “

“Stop it right there,” Reaper said firmly. “You are the perfect amount of extra tonight, coat included.”

“Aw shucks,” he laughed, “if it gets your seal of approval the outfit must be alright.”

“Maravilloso, mija, maravillioso,” he said putting a hand on her shoulder. “Want a drink?”

“Absolutely,” she said waving at one of the bartenders. She sipped a glass of wine, marveling at the wild variety of people in the warehouse – thousand dollar suits rubbing against Walmart tees, all clamoring for booze and a chance to brag.

“I knew the invite to this thing was pretty loose, but I wasn’t really expecting all the high ranking members like yourself to be schmoozing with the rest of us. I figured there would at least be a VIP section or something,” Sonya said toying with the lipstick print on her glass.

“Last year we basically had two separate parties �� one for the low lives and one for those of us who know how to handle ourselves. We were in the same vicinity, but there was a definite line in the sand. And bodyguards to maintain the line,” Reaper grumbled.

Sonya grinned, “Which group was Sombra in?”

“Both,” Reaper groaned, “she started with the grunts, blackmailed her way into the professional side, then went back to the low-brow members because the rest of us ‘fucker-oonies weren’t no fun.’”

His Sunshine burst out laughing. “Yup! That’s Sombra!” Reaper loved to hear her uncontrolled laughter, all loud and coming out in bursts.

“At least when the party’s a clusterfuck you and I get to people watch together,” Sonya said putting a hand on his arm.

“Don’t worry, hon, I’d vouch for you. Nothing but the best champagne and hors-d'oeuvres for you,” Reaper promised.

“The real question is,” she teased, “would you be willing to hang out the filthy heathens below if I didn’t want to hang out with your hoity-toity friends?”

“For one,” he began, “they are not my friends. And for two, of course I would leave Ogundimu and the others behind to stay with you. In a heartbeat.”

Sunshine beamed and leaned into Reaper’s side, “Thank goodness, because you were really the only person I wanted to see tonight. Sloppy Amelie is fun and all, and Sombra’s terrible beatboxing is hilarious, but you’re by far the most tolerable.”

“D’aww,” he snickered, “I find you tolerable, too, unlike this asshole.” Doomfist was approaching. Sonya smacked Reaper in the arm.

“Evening, Akande,” she said brightly as the large man took came close. Since when was it ‘Akande’ and not his last name?

“Good evening, Sunshine,” he said with a small bow.

“Look at you all spiffed up,” Sonya said eyeing Doomfist’s well-tailored suit. How many reams of fabric does it take to cover a man that wide, Reaper wondered.

“I’m glad you approve.” His teeth were just as pearly white as his button-down shirt. “You, however, look absolutely ravishing. I must remember to find more occasions to see you in a proper dress.”

“I dunno about that,” Sunshine said, shifting her weight from one foot to the other, “I forgot how much I hate high heels.”

Doomfist looked around hurriedly, frowning until he saw someone sitting from the left of him. “Move,” he demanded with no explanation.

“What,” the other man said, confused.

“I said move,” Ogundimu repeated, grabbing the back of the man’s barstool. The guy finally understood and hopped off the seat and took a few steps back.

“There you are, my dear,” Doomfist said, dragging the chair to Sonya’s side. “rest your feet.”

‘My dear.’ Reaper’s jaw was fully clenched. Even worse, Sonya wasn’t protesting in the least. In fact, she smiled as he offered a hand to her to help her onto the tall seat.

“Thank you, Akande,” Sonya said putting her skinny fingers on top of his massive ones.

“And they say chivalry is dead,” Doomfist hummed out in a suave voice.

“Is it still chivalry if you’re bragging about it,” Sunshine asked with a raised brow. Reaper snorted.

“Touché,” Ogundimu laughed. He leaned on the bar top to Sonya’s right, staring at her as they chatted casually. All those long hours in the prosthetics lab must have fostered some sort of . . . friendship – which was to be expected, but Reaper still didn’t like it. Nor did he like their easy way of speaking and comfortable closeness. Reaper stood there, sulking, feeling like a third wheel.

“Tell me, Sunshine,” Doomfist said, inching closer to her as she shed her fluffy coat, “what do you have planned for tomorrow? Any traditions to keep, or are you in need of some company?”

“I’ve got plans,” she said simply, looking to Reaper with a warm smile.

“Afraid she’s all mine,” Reaper mocked Doomfist, putting his arm around Sunshine.

“For now,” Ogundimu replied confidently.

“My, my,” said a familiar synthetic voice, “you two are certainly possessive.”

The two men stopped glaring at each other to see Maximilien standing before them, his metal face flat, but his tone was vaguely disapproving.

“She is a woman worth fighting for,” Doomfist said straightening his posture. Reaper did not follow suit, holding Sonya close.

“That may be true, but perhaps you should be aware of how this young woman feels about the two of you fighting over her,” the omnic said gesturing to Sonya. She sat in between Reaper and Doomfist, looking annoyed and awkward, not a trace of a smile left.

Reaper instantly released her, giving her shoulder blade a quick apologetic rub. Sonya gave him a weak smile in return.

“You know how I feel about conflict,” Ogundimu rumbled, “especially when there is something so lovely to gain.” Clearly he felt no remorse.

Sonya let out a frustrated sigh before hopping to her feet and taking a step toward the omnic. “It’s Maximilien, yes,” she asked, lips pulled up in a forced way.

“Indeed it is,” the Talon board member nodded.

“It is a pleasure to meet you, sir, despite the less than civil circumstances.”

She held a hand out to him and he took it in both of his, very gently. “Likewise, miss. I have heard you referred to as both ‘Sonya’ and ‘Sunshine.’ May I ask what you prefer? Or would you prefer Ms. Reyes?”

“Sonya, please,” she responded quickly, easing into a genuine smile, “and I appreciate you asking, sir. It is nice to see that someone has retained their manners.”

Omnic laughter had always felt wrong in Reaper’s ears and this time was no different. Maximilien was usually not in such an amicable mood.

“I was just thinking the same thing, Sonya. I understand you are researching Ogundimu’s weapon,” Maximilien hinted.

“Yes, I am. It’s proven to be fascinating, if not slow work. The Doomfist is a baffling piece of technology, but I like a good challenge.” Reaper had always admired his daughter’s passion.

“That is good to hear,” Maximilien said reaching into his breast pocket, “I value determination in my associates.” He pulled out a sleek, shimmering business card and handed it to Sonya. “I have been monitoring your work since you joined Talon, and I am intrigued. Impressed, even. Should you find yourself with a desire to take on another task, please let me know. I am staying on the base for a few days and would enjoy the chance speak with you in a more  . . .” He looked around at the crowded room, “Private, less intoxicated setting.”

Sunshine blinked in surprise, taking the small slip of paper in both hands. “Thank you, sir. I will get back to you soon.”

“I am looking forward to it,” Maximilien said with a nod. “Now, if you will excuse me, I had had enough of this particular brand of revelry for the night.”

Doomfist said a simple goodbye and Reaper bobbed his head as the omnic left.

“That was unexcepted,” Sunshine reeled, turning back to the other two men.

“Seems as if he was waiting for you,” Ogundimu grumbled. “Waiting to make his offer to whisk you away.”

Sonya leaned over, watching as the filthy rich omnic disappeared out of sight. “I wonder what on Erath he would want me to do for him?”

“I’m sure it’s nothing as interesting as working with me,” the large man said pompously. Reaper rolled his eyes and slumped against the bar. Christ, he missed drinking in public.

“Akande that’s enough,” Sunshine growled, “you’re frying my last damn nerve with your overly haughty bullshit.”

Both men recoiled a bit in shock. “I beg your pardon,” Ogundimu said, something akin to anger sneaking into his voice.

She sighed and rubbed her face, “I’m just a little tired of you treating me like a trophy to be won, every day, day in, day out. It’s too much.”

Reaper’s eyebrows went up as he slowly turned to Doomfist to see his reaction. Was he . . . blushing? The man looked both taken aback and perturbed, glaring back at the masked man, but his expression softened considerably once he looked back to Sonya.

Doomfist finished his drink in one giant gulp. “Understood, Sonya. I will leave you be. Perhaps we can speak again after the holiday. Contact me if you need access to my weaponry.” With that curt phrase, Ogundimu turned and left, leaving Sonya rolling her head back and groaning.

“What’s wrong,” Reaper asked nervously. He was slightly worried he was next on the outburst list, not that the aging man didn’t deserve it – he had been acting like a child.

“Now he’s pouting,” Sunshine whimpered. “I’m straightforward and honest just this once, and he runs off like a moody teenager. Fan-fucking-tastic.”

“He’ll get over it,” Reaper reassured her, “I’ve seen him get like this before about council matters. Give him a day, and he’ll be back to his usual self. I think the big guy’s just not used to people challenging him anymore, but, as much as I hate to say it, he only gets this way about things he – “ Don’t say ‘cares about,’ Reaper thought to himself. “Things he is . . . invested in.”

Judging by Sunshine’s sly little smile, she was reading Reaper’s mind again. “’Invested’ or not, I just hope he’s not going to be even more of a pain or try to put me on a guilt trip. Or strangle me in my sleep.”

“He will not strangle you in your sleep, I can guarantee you that.”

Sonya still looked rather wary, but mostly tired. She grabbed her coat and threw it back over her, nuzzling into the large collar like all that fluffiness would keep her safe.

“Hey,” Reaper said softly, “you want to get out of here? Get away from the lights for a second?”

Her mouth pressed into a line as she considered the offer. “Yeah, that sounds nice, but I gotta do one thing first.” She whipped around and flagged the bartender once more, waited for her two shots of tequila, downed them both, then gave him a thumbs up. “Let’s go.”

“That’s my girl,” Reaper laughed. They walked into the cool night air and sat together on the far side of the warehouse where they could hide from everyone else. Sonya plopped down on a pile of pallets heavily, lulling her head on her poofy coat.

“What’s going on with you,” he asked sitting next to her. “You’ve been in looking down for the past couple of days.”

“Sorry,” she said rubbing the bridge of her nose.

“I’m not asking because I’m annoyed or anything, I’m asking because I’m worried. What happened to my chipper, sassy sunbeam?”

Her laugh was dull and unconvincing. “I’ll be fine, Reaper, it’s just been a bad week. A bad time of year for me.”

“Why,” he pressed.

“I just, ugh. It’s weird, don’t worry about it.”

“You’re my kid,” he said scooting closer, “worrying about you is 90% of what I do.”

She snorted and rested her head on him. “It’s just that, even though the Orphan’s Army was a disaster and far from, I guess, nurturing, they were still like my family. A lot of us had this really tight comradery, and I’m just kinda missing that. I know I’ve got people here that are sorta like friends, but it's not the same. We don’t have the same connection. I miss that feeling.”

“You’re lonely,” he said sympathetically.

“Maybe not quite lonely,” she said sadly, “I think I just miss the kind of friendships I used to have. The people here just . . .”

“I understand, mija, I really do.” All day Reaper had been trying to push aside memories of Jesse pigging out on pie and oppressively strong coffee while Genji told bad jokes in an effort to make the cowboy snort out a pie-coffee smoothie. He remembered basic training with Jack and the shitty Christmas dinner they had at the barracks, wondering how someone could mess up pre-packaged pudding. Then there was the year little Fareeha was obsessed with horses, and Gabe got her the biggest plush pony he could find. So many damned memories that managed to made him nostalgic and enraged at the same time.

“You want to tell me about it,” Sunshine asked softly.

“No, no, no,” he said, body tensing, “but just know that I hear where you’re coming from.”

She nodded. They sat in silence for a long time, each thinking about the people they lost, one way or another. About the betrayals they both endured at the hands of those they trusted.

“At least I have you,” Sonya murmured. “At least I’m not completely on my own.”

Reaper reached over and rubbed her cheek. “You’re lucky I ever let you out of my sight,” he teased. “But I’m sorry if I was too antagonistic with Ogundimu or if – ”

“Don’t be,” she said waving her hand, “I know you’re not possessive like that. And even if you are, you actually have a reason to be. Akande is just my boss and a horny shitlord.”

He laughed so hard and so forcefully he started coughing. “Ah mija,” Reaper said once he had recovered, “you’re so perfect.”

She laughed as he pulled her into him again. “Thanks, Reaper. We’re still on for tomorrow, right? Food and film frenzy?”

“And presents,” Reaper said mischievously. Sonya instantly shoved her father away and gave him an incredulous look.

“What do you mean ‘presents?!’ We promised no gifts,” she whined.

She was so cute when pretending to be mad.

“I lied,” he said flatly, “I’m a villainous masked man. I do that sometimes.”

“Rude,” she spat, beginning to smirk again. “It’s a good thing I got you presents, too.”

“What the hell,” Reaper bellowed. “You’re supposed to be the good one! Or at least the less morally compromised one.”

“Yeah, but I’m still your girl,” an air of pride in her voice.

His Sunshine laid back into him and was soon breathing slowly, asleep next to him. She probably shouldn’t have mixed the liquor, not that he minded having her warm weight pressed against him.  Reaper smiled widely and pressed his mask against her beautiful dark hair in lieu of a kiss.

“Tomorrow is a new day, mi sol,” he whispered. “We’ll get through this together, you and I.”

Additional tags: @watch-your-grammer @winchester-sonsandcastiel @envy-kitty