#having to get struck by lighting again to regain his lost powers

[barrencelenny]

only half way through an eight hour flight and I’m bored. do you think barry has a slight phobia of lighting.

[exactlycleverpirate]

Wholehearted

Apparently today I woke and chose pain.

Rafayel x F MC fanfic. Angst. Hurt, no comfort (I lied, there is a little comfort at the end, should you desire it.) Spoilers for myth and possibly other Rafayel content. Short (660 words).

This is what I wrote instead of finishing the Abysswalker x MC nfsw fluffy fic I am over 3k words into.

“Amund! No! What have you done?!”

Rafayel ran to catch his lovely bride as she fell, but too late. Much too late. The wicked dagger jutted from her chest, just where he'd indicated a fatal blow could be struck when they had flirted and teased as he'd trained her so many months ago. Now the jest had turned to brutal reality.

“It was her request, Your Quintessence,” Amund insisted, sounding satisfied, perhaps even smug.

Rafayel felt sick as the blood seeped around the wound and stained her dress. The dagger was ironically preserving her life, stemming the flow, but he knew it couldn't be for long. She was dying, and he could do nothing to prevent it.

He pressed his forehead to her, tears coming in choking gasps, turning to pearls before they hit the sand. Her eyes fluttered open to look at him, barely clinging to consciousness.

“Why?” He sobbed, brokenly. “You told me not to give up. You told me there was still hope.”

“You were running out of time,” she whispered, fingers shaking as they lightly traced his cheek. “If I waited, it could be too late.”

It was true, and he knew it. His fire had grown dimmer and dimmer by the day. But he never thought…

“It was supposed to be me,” he cried, hugging her gently, feeling her warmth bleeding away. “I don't want it back. My heart belongs to you. Please, please, don't leave me.”

“I love you,” she whispered. Then the light of her eyes dimmed, her hand fell, and she was gone.

“No! No, don't go! Please, don't go!” But his screams fell on deaf ears. 

Power surged from her body in a flash of light, before rushing into his own chest. He could feel a vitality he hadn't felt in millenia surging through his veins.

Winds whipped across the sands, and with a great rumble, waters sprung up in mighty fountains. Distantly, he could hear a roar of jubilation as his people realized what was happening.

The God of the Sea was whole. The oceans were returning to Philos. No more would the Lemurians watch helpless as humans plundered their treasures.

The waters soon swallowed Rafayel and his lifeless bride. She looked ethereal as she floated in the blue, red fanning out in a deep stain around her.

“What a liar.” He whispered, fingers caressing her cool cheek.

For the first time in well over 30,000 years, Rafayel was whole, his flame reborn. 

He had never felt more empty, more cold. 

There would be no next life to get it right. The heart that had brought her back to him time and again had been returned, just as the prophecy demanded. There would be no more waiting for her. No more looking into lovely eyes that saw him as a stranger. Not even death would be a respite for him, for the seas would bring him mercilessly back, life after life, devoid of the only one who made it worth living.

In one swift move, the God of the Sea had regained his heart…and lost it forever.

***

“Rafayel!”

He woke with a gasp, eyes burning, cheeks stained. He looked around wildly, trying to understand what was happening. His skin felt clammy and sticky, his chest heaving for air. 

“Rafayel! I’m here. You're safe.”

That gentle voice, that beloved voice, and her soft hand against his cheek, stroking over the tear tracks. He pulled her forcefully into his arms, burying his head in her neck and inhaling deeply. Warm. Whole. Alive.

“I’m here, love,” she cooed, running her fingers soothingly through his hair. “I’m here. You’re safe. It was just a bad dream.”

He placed his hand against her chest, and but for a gasp of surprise, she didn't protest, cradling his hand against her. He felt the thrumming of his heart in her chest. He released a shaky breath.

Surely, she was right. Surely, it was just a dream.

[starlightingsss]

mad woman (laxus x reader)

part 2

as explosions went off around her, the girl ducked behind the bar counter was preparing to put up a fight.

"oh poor little guys .. they're so weak!" a haughty female voice laughed, as she heard a few screams.

"now now, ever .. lets not let this get out of hand." a more stern voice replied.

"out of hand, out of hand", something mimicked.

she heard footsteps clamoring around where she was, a little switchblade was in her hand- though it would probably be useless against the group of wizards.

"oi, should we maybe get some drinks? laxus would like that.." a more jokerish voice laughed, as she heard heavy footsteps coming towards her.

as she saw a man turn around the bar, to presumably steal some alcohol, she took her chance.

she shot up, stabbing him in the shoulder and slamming his head into the shelf before turning around to get a look at the other 2 as she ducked back down.

she heard more explosions - directed at her this time, as a few beams of light broke through the counter.

she crawled over to the side of the counter as she regained line of sight with the two other intruders, the woman seemed more aggressive and like a bigger threat, and so she dealt with her first.

she whispered an incantation, a message more so, unheard to their ears, but not ignored by their bones.

her magic was unique, the ability to control bones. from those of animals to those of humans, she could control how they grew and how they moved, and how they mended. if she had a carcass lying around, she could 'give it life'. and if that didn't work out for her, she knew the basics of elemental magic.

the woman hunched over in pain, screaming and clutching her chest as her ribs grew inwards, pressing against her internal organs.

soon she collapsed, not because she was dead - not enough power was put into the spell for it to kill, and i could still hear her heartbeat, she passed out from the pain.

the other guy - green haired - had now learnt of my position. i saw him crafting enchantments earlier, but most enchantment users have a second kind of magic to fall back on.

with his knowledge of letter magic, and his ability to utilize jutsu shiki, it was better for her to come out then give him the time to write an enchantment and trap her.

she focused her energy into the shadows, before eventually merging with them, she reappeared behind the guy but he reacted faster than she predicted, he snapped a spell she couldn't make out, before an overwhelming feeling of fear struck her.

but fear didn't matter, strange people from a strsnge guild? did fear matter if she might just die now before she had a chance to live?

before she reacted, he said something else she couldn't distinguish. she was encapsulated by darkness, as she lost her vision. she couldn't see.

her fear heightened at the loss of one of her most important senses. but that was until she heard the voices, little whispers that fed her information.

the bones were speaking.

they were arguing actually, telling her he was in front of her but slightly left - how if she swung with her right hand she would hit him square in the jaw.

they suggested her to use a fire attack, as he grew used to lightning from some man named laxus?

as she took their advice, swinging her fire-clad fist at the unsuspecting man, he took the brunt of the hit in his jaw - knocking him over.

she heard the thud as the bones told her he was right in front of her and she could just kick him a little, and she did. one firm thwack into his side, leading to a cry of pain.

she stumbled backwards after the hit - assuming he would stay down - as she backed into a staircase and heard a bang.

she felt pieces of rock crumbling over her, as she realized the ceiling was collapsing. with her vision still gone, she couldn't dodge it. once again, she was horrified and scared - until she felt someones arms around her, picking her up and dragging her outside.

once he took her out of the building, she was far enough from the other guy to regain her eyesight, and in front of her was a very hunky looking blonde.

she was seated and he was towering over her, with a very upset expression on his face.

"hello." she said, looking up at his narrowed eyes, with wide ones. she instinctively wrapped her arms around her waist, as he examined her.

"tch." was the only response she got out of him, as she heard footsteps coming from somewhere else in the forest.

"laxus! w-we took out everyone but her and then she-" the green haired guy said, interrupting what the blonde was about to say.

"wiped out all three of you, now." he sneered this, before turning back to her, "how did you manage to take on all 3 of them?"

she just shrugged as she stood up and tried to leave, turning and walking away from the group.

this enraged the blonde, who happened to be a lightning magic user, as a bolt of lightning narrowly missed her.

she turned again, raising an eyebrow, "yes?".

"don't ignore me when im speaking to you." he snapped, walking closer to her.

"you wiped my guild." she hissed in reply, moving away further.

"they deserved it." laxus said, as he stared at her.

she was stunning. her h/c hair beautifully framing her face, fierce eyes of the most luxurious e/c, perfect body, and a dress that hugged her amazingly. she was gorgeous but not in the pin-up way, more in the intimidating way.

"what magic?" he said, further examining her. when he tried to 'feel' her, there was nothing. he couldn't detect a trace of her magic power.

"none of your business." she told him.

"what magic do you use?" he repeated, his voice rising.

"none. of. your. business." she hissed, her voice rising too. laxus was getting worked up, as the thunder legion watched a little bit confused.

"where are you going?" he growled.

"nowhere." she said, less aggressive this time. "you guys blew up my house, remember?"

"come with us." he told her, more of a demand than an ask.

"to where?" she asked, her curiosity piqued.

"back to our guild, to my house." he snapped.

"i have no money." she replied, narrowing her eyes again.

"so?" he grumbled, before grabbing a bag and throwing it into her arms.

the bag was heavy, as she faulted under its weight, wobbling a little.

he mumbled something unintelligible, as they trekked through the forest.

[thexgrayxlady]

WIP Whenever

Chase ducked his head and twisted so that his shoulder hit the ground first. He rolled across the temple courtyard and came to a stop spitting sand with Guan’s staff at his temple.

He rolled his eyes and swallowed his pride for long enough to accept his friend’s outstretched hand helping him to back to his feet. He tucked the loose strands of hair behind his ears and rubbed some mud out of his cuffs before retrieving his dropped weapon to try one last time. His knuckles paled on the staff and meditation and breathing exercises be damned, he couldn’t relax his death grip on the weapon.

Their instructor critiqued and made corrections to their form and moves, but Chase only halfway listened.

This was happening too often.

He tried to remind himself that he was much better at magic and Guan hadn’t been able to touch his time on the obstacle course for months. But if was very hard to care about that when he lost more often than not.

As soon as their instructor gave the signal, he lashed out. Guan effortlessly parried and shoved him back. Rather than waste any more energy resisting, Chase withdrew.

As he did, Chase noticed that for all the power behind his friend’s blows, he left an opening on his right.

Chase pressed the offensive, trying to recreate it. But he couldn’t win through strength. He had to fight smarter. He was quicker and lighter and could dart in and then back to a safe distance.

He tried the feint Brother Liu showed them earlier in the week. Gaun didn’t fall for it, but his block left him just off balance and he was slow to regain his footing. Of course, he didn’t need to be quick if Chase couldn’t take advantage.

The corners of his mouth twitched in frustration. He just had to close the gap while his friend was off balance. But he didn’t know any moves he could use to do that. At least, none that would work. Anything that he knew, Guan did too.  

The impact of their staves jarred his shoulder. Though momentarily stunned, he came back to himself just in time to leap away when Guan tried to sweep his legs.

Chase tried the feint again, studying his opponent’s footwork as he countered. He moved well enough, but slightly slow and imperfectly balanced. His instructors would doubtless give him extra drills later, but it worked well enough for what he needed now.

That he could be satisfied with something that was just good enough was near enough to drive Chase to frustrated mistakes. Yet the idea of losing yet again due to his own impatience was just enough to keep him focused on his goal.

Chase followed up with quick darting jabs. Guan blocked most and the few that struck didn’t have enough power to knock his friend back. That didn’t matter. He just needed to keep his friend too distracted to start his own offensive while he planned.

He didn’t have to use the whole feint. The opening set him up to quickly change directions, but with a few modifications he could use the momentum to carry him over his friend’s counter. His staff would get in the way, but if he was being fully honest with himself, he fought better without it.

He began the feint one last time and now that Guan anticipated his movement, he was in place to intercept too soon and when Chase didn’t meet his counter, his momentum carried him too far. Chase leapt over his guard and landed light. He spun and kicked as his friend turned to catch him.

His foot connected with his friend’s side with a satisfying thud and he couldn’t catch himself before his own momentum carried him to the ground. Gaun motioned to yield.

Their instructor made a few critiques of their form, briefly praising Chase for ingenuity, before dismissing them for the afternoon. Chase was too caught up in the excitement of victory to do more than half listen while helping his friend to his feet.  

“That was really cool,” Guan said. “How did you do that last move?”

“It’s easy,” he said, grinning and practically bouncing as he led the way to another part of the training grounds. “C’mon, I’ll show you.”

[onelazyblob]

Idk why but somehow every ship that I rate from "It's cute" to "Another reason to live" will eventually have a dancing scene fleshed out in my head.

And I mean all of them, even the ships that I don't ship but still think positive of, in different settings and stuff. But all are dancing.

For example, TodoMomo is a ship I personally don't ship, but they get a setting where they are colleagues (dancer/ballerina(?) and pianist specifically) and is practicing in a wide spacious room with floor-to-ceiling windows, floor-to-ceiling mirrors, and wooden floor. A baby grand piano in the corner. It's close to dusk. The orange-red hues of those last lights of day filter through the window, landing on the gracefully dancing figure in the middle of the room while casting shadow on the young man in the corner, who is playing a heartbreaking tune. They don't look at each other, both seem lost in their own world.

Another one is on my hyper fixation rn: Albether. So Aether has regained his power, so he has wings again. Aether took Albedo high up in the sky and somehow Albedo manage to stay in the air too. It's late at night, and no creatures are awake. There is no moon, but the millions of stars that made up the Milky Way illuminated the sky, acting as the background to their dance. There is no music, but they are waltzing all the same. Perhaps to the tune of their own music? No one knows for sure. Aether is smiling, his eyes crinkling in delight. And Albedo? Albedo looked awe struck, pupils blown wide as he take in the breathtaking sight of the love of his life.

Maybe it's the intimacy of sharing one's personal space? Idk ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

[just-another-blog-of-fluff]

Never Back Down

Warnings: the usual - tickling, fluff

Word count: 2500

Ok, I know I just posted like 2 days ago, but this idea started plaguing me on my drive home from work today and I had to just get it written out on (virtual) paper. Hope you enjoy!

* * *

You don’t back down easily. Certainly not from a prank war. Especially when it meant you had captured the attention of a certain Asgardian.

Admittedly, you had been the one to start it. Although, you had good reason – Loki had been teasing you incessantly that day, doing everything in his power just to push your buttons. So, naturally, you did what any self-respecting Avenger would do, and stole his ‘secret’ stash of chocolate from his room when he wasn’t looking. It’s not like you ate it or anything (well, maybe just one… or two…) but it was still enough to poke the bear. Loki, of course, knew exactly who had taken it the moment he noticed it was missing.

The chocolate had disappeared from your room by the next morning. Along with every pair of shoes you owned.

It took much longer than you’d have liked to admit to track down all of your shoes hidden around the compound. You knew you had to step up your game. So that evening, you pulled the classic ‘hair dye in the shampoo bottle’ trick (temporary, of course). The look you received from the now green-haired god the next morning could have shattered glass, but you still couldn’t help but snicker at him.

You made sure you were cautious the rest of that day, knowing he would likely retaliate. Before showering that evening, you double and triple-checked the color of the soap and shampoo before using it to make sure there wasn’t anything unusual about it. You even ordered take-out for dinner; afraid he might try to tamper with your food if you tried to cook something.

Nothing happened. Which only made you more suspicious about what the trickster was planning.

You found out the next morning, when you went to exit your bedroom and suddenly were knocked backward onto the floor as your face struck an invisible barrier. Plastic wrap. Clever. As revenge, you slipped hot sauce into his morning coffee. Needless to say, he didn’t appreciate it.

At this point, you weren’t sure who was winning. The most likely answer was really neither of you, but you figured you should probably be on your toes anyway assuming he would probably be plotting vengeance after this morning. Luckily, there was a mission briefing that afternoon; you figured at least he wouldn’t be bold enough to try to pull something in front of an entire room of Avengers. Or, at least, you hoped.

Tony was having renovations done on your usual conference room, so the briefing had been moved to one of the smaller meeting rooms on the second floor. You were running late, having gotten lost trying to find your way to the new meeting location, and you were cursing yourself for it because you were really hoping to be assigned to this particular mission. By the time you located the room, everyone else had already arrived and taken their seats.

The room was much smaller than the conference room, with a few chairs surrounding a table in the center of the room and additional seating against the walls. You cringed when you saw the only remaining available seat was in the corner, directly next to Loki. He smirked when he noticed you in the doorway, patting the chair beside him as if being polite, but you knew him better by now. He had something planned, you were sure of it.

You quickly walked across the room, trying to minimize the time that you were blocking your teammates’ view of the front of the room where Steve was reviewing the mission location on a projector. Begrudgingly, you slouched down into the seat beside Loki and leaned against the wall.

“You’re late,” Loki leaned over and whispered in your ear.

“Shh! I want to hear about the mission. Steve was thinking of sending me this time,” you hissed, glaring at him.

Loki was silent for a few moments, so you turned your attention back to the front of the room. Steve now had some images up on the screen of the artifact the team would be responsible for retrieving, which had been stolen from one of the local museums. You wished you had thought to bring your notepad – you knew it would impress Steve if you were taking notes, and you really wanted to have the chance to prove yourself by going on this mission.

“He is insufferable to listen to.” Loki had leaned over again to whisper to you, his breath tickling your ear, and you reflexively shrugged your shoulder.

“Shh! Stop whispering!” you demanded.

“Shh! You should be listening,” he mocked, winking with a mischievous grin. You rolled your eyes and turned your attention back to the front.

Another few moments went by when suddenly you felt something soft tickling the shell of your ear. You flinched and swatted your hand up to your ear, realizing Loki had taken a loose strand of your hair and had experimentally swiped it across your ear.

“Loki!” you whispered, your face heating up. “Cut it out!”

“What’s wrong?” he asked, an expression of mock innocence on his face.

“You know what’s wrong. I’m trying to listen!”

“What is it? Are you… ticklish?” He emphasized his question by poking you swiftly in the side, causing you to jerk away from his touch.

“Loki… d-don’t get any ideas,” you warned, starting to get nervous. He scooted slightly closer to you in his chair.

“Hmm. Surely you must regret tampering with my coffee this morning, now, don’t you?” You narrowed your eyes at him, fixing your gaze on his. He snuck his hand up to your side out of your line of site and gently squeezed, making you jump. “Now, darling, you wouldn’t want to cause a scene.”

“Y-you’re the one causing a scene!” you protested, glancing up to see if anyone had noticed this exchange yet. It seemed no one was the wiser to what was going on in your corner of the room, all watching Steve as he continued to provide intel for the upcoming mission.

While you were looking around the room, Loki slid his arm around your waist to attack your other side. You jolted again as you felt his fingertips gently scratching at both sides simultaneously, biting your tongue to keep from laughing. You refused to gratify Loki with a reaction, so you did your best to remain perfectly still as he continued to lightly trace your skin through your thin t-shirt. You could still see his smirk in your peripheral vision despite your attempt to focus on Steve’s briefing.

Gradually, Loki’s light touch became more of a gentle kneading of the soft skin of your sides. It was becoming more difficult not to move, and a reluctant smile started forcing itself across your face. You had to fight even harder as you felt his fingertips moving up your sides, moving agonizingly slowly, gently digging into the spaces between your lower ribs.

“Very good, pet,” Loki teased, his voice deep and smooth as he leaned close to your ear. You shuddered involuntarily, your face burning, flustering you in a way that only the god of mischief could. Unfortunately, Loki was perceptive, and noticed your sudden change in demeanor. His fingers crawled higher up your ribcage and it took everything you had not to let out a squeak. “It would seem that I’m not trying hard enough, wouldn’t it?”

“S-stop it!” you mumbled, leaning as far away from the god as you could with the wall on your other side holding you captive in your seat. He chuckled, low and deep in his throat, suddenly shifting the hand that wasn’t wrapped around you so he could flutter his fingertips against the back of your knee while continuing to torment your ribs with his other hand. You let out a nearly inaudible squeal, biting down on your knuckle in an effort to avoid laughing out loud. You were trembling now, trying desperately not to jerk away from his touch and draw attention to yourself.

“It’s unfortunate for you, really, that you’re so devastatingly ticklish. Tell me, darling – where are you more ticklish? Here?” He scribbled his fingers faster against the delicate skin on the underside of your knee, making you jolt your leg away from him, “Or here?” The slender fingers latched on your ribs squeezed more rapidly, and you arched your back slightly to evade his touch.

“I’m n-not telling you that!” you hissed.

“Alright, then.” The hand under your knee darted back up to your side, and in one swift motion he slipped his fingertips into the hollows under your arms. You couldn’t help but twist harshly, shaking in silent laughter as you leaned into him involuntarily. “I see I’ve found the answer.”

“I’ll be right back!” you announced suddenly, standing abruptly from your chair, and scurrying out of the room. You shut the door behind you and leaned against the wall, trying to catch your breath and regain your composure. Your cheeks were still on fire and your heart was beating a mile a minute in your chest. If it weren’t for the fact that you actually wanted to pay attention during this meeting, this whole interaction with Loki might have been more enjoyable. His persistent teasing had you completely flustered, though, and while under normal circumstances it may have made you feel giddy, you knew you couldn’t let the team see you like this.

You needn’t have worried, though – the door to the meeting room opened again only moments after you’d left the room, and everyone filed out into the hall, chattering amongst themselves, none the wiser to anything that had been going on in the back corner of the room. Loki was the last to leave, trailing behind the others with a few extra feet of distance between himself and the rest of the team. You took advantage of this, quickly grabbing his arm and yanking him off to the side, slamming him up against the wall with your forearm pressed across his chest.

“Damn it, Loki! What the hell!” you growled, glaring at him, although admittedly with less fire in your eyes than he probably deserved.

“Do you admit defeat?” he asked, grinning.

“Wha- no! Of course not!” you retorted. “You fight dirty, Loki!”

“God of mischief, darling,” he responded proudly, snaking his hand under your arm, and digging his fingers into your uppermost ribs. You shrieked and released him from the wall, stumbling backward to escape the torturous tickles. He was too quick for you, grasping your wrist and spinning you around so he could pin you against the wall where he previously stood. After grappling with you for a moment, he managed to grab your other wrist and pin both arms behind your back in one hand, spidering the fingers of his other hand randomly up and down your side. You snorted, now able to laugh and squirm freely. You managed to twist enough to break his hold, spinning around and sweeping his legs out from underneath him with your foot. He fell to the floor, a shocked expression fleeting across his face as you knelt down beside him.

“You know, I’m willing to bet you’re only good at this from personal experience,” you noted with a smirk. Before he could react, you latched both hands on his sides and squeezed, praying for a reaction. He let out a strangled laugh, jerking away from your touch.

“Don’t!” he demanded, sounding somewhat frantic.

“Aha! I knew it!” you gloated, scribbling your fingers into every possible ticklish spot you could think of, knowing it wouldn’t be long before he overpowered you and escaped your hold. He started to giggle – actually giggle – thrashing violently to throw you off. His laughter made you even more flustered than you were before, never having seen the god in such a state.

“Eheheh – I DEMAND you stop this!”

“Sorry Loki, it’s pretty hard to take you seriously when you’re giggling like a schoolchild,” you teased, working your fingers down to his belly. Unfortunately, this caused him to jolt so hard he knocked you off of him, not having expected the sudden motion. In a flash, he had you pinned to the floor, hovering over you with his chest heaving as he caught his breath.

“I-I am going to make you regret that,” he growled, his characteristic smirk returning as he resumed his tickle attack, his fingers darting across your skin, sending ticklish shocks through your nerves. He was agile, never staying in one spot for long enough for you to get used to the sensation before moving his torturous fingers somewhere else.

“L-LOKI! I CAHAHAN’T TAKE IHIHIHIT!!” you pleaded, pounding your feet against the floor in ticklish agony.

“You should have thought of this before crossing the god of mischief,” he retorted, pinning your legs down with his shin and pinching the skin just above your kneecap. Your abdominal muscles were too sore from laughter to even try to sit up and shove him off you. He slid his other hand under your knee to scratch at the sensitive skin there simultaneously.

“I YIELD! I YIELD! STAHAHAP!!” you begged, slapping the floor with your hand to tap out. Thankfully, he obeyed, releasing you so you could roll onto your side, holding your stomach as the last residual giggles bubbled from your lips.

After taking a moment to compose yourself, you sat up and grinned at the trickster. He raised his eyebrows at you.

“Why are you smiling?”

“I just never pegged you as the ticklish type,” you observed. He folded his arms indignantly across his chest.

“I am not ticklish. That is a weakness that only plagues mortals such as yourself,” he insisted. A sneaky poke to his side told you otherwise, causing the Asgardian to jolt and let out a strangled yelp.

“Mmhmm. Ticklish.”

Loki stared you down for a moment, and you started to worry that he might attack you again for that comment. You were surprised when he held out his hand, offering to help you off the floor.

“Truce?”

“Truce? … What are the conditions?” you asked warily, staring at his outstretched hand as if it might try to bite you.

“You keep this little… incident to yourself, and I will stop pranking you. Provided you do the same.” You squinted at him, trying to assess the sincerity in his expression. Satisfied, you grasped his hand in yours and allowed him to pull you to your feet.

“Deal.” You shook his hand once to seal the deal. You both turned to walk down the hallway to catch up with the rest of the team.

“I shall warn you, though – I made no promises that you would be safe from tickles around me. It’s quite amusing, tormenting you. Almost… adorable.” You felt your face flush hot again.

“Well… I guess I won’t protest too much to that.”

[theultimateultimateweapon]

Kirby: Meta Knight and the Knight of Hades (Chapter 10)

Morpho Knight swung his sword down the slope, releasing a powerful shock wave. The crescent-shaped waves hit Meta Knight in quick succession.

Meta Knight flew left and right, but his arm was hurt and he groaned in pain. Morpho Knight didn’t even look tired.

Meta Knight remembered what happened in the underworld. In that world, he couldn’t feel tired, hungry, or pain at all. The red knight might not feel any of those feelings no matter how much he fights because of the power of the butterfly of Hades.

If so, does Meta Knight have no chance of winning…?

(No, it can’t be...) Meta Knight gripped his sword and thought. (Those who do not feel tired do not understand the breath of battle. Those who do not feel pain cannot read the movement of their enemy.)

Behind Meta Knight were King Dedede, Kirby, and Blade Knight. Both the great king and Kirby fought desperately, but they had finally lost their strength.

Only Meta Knight was standing. He didn’t know if he could get through this mess. Already, just breathing was painful and his whole body hurt.

(Good. I feel tired and painful because I am alive!)

Meta Knight gathered his strength and jumped up, slashing at Morpho Knight.

However, he repelled it easily.

Morpho Knight slashed violently at Meta Knight’s landing.

Due to his tiredness, Meta Knight, who had been struck before, couldn’t move. He held his sword over his body and guarded desperately, but the damage was great.

His head was fluttering. His eyes were hazy, and his feet were swaying.

(Will I… will I go to the underworld again? This time, forever?) When such an ominous idea came to him, something happened.

“Meta Kniiiiight!”

He heard a loud voice. Waddle Dee’s voice.

Meta Knight raised his face.

Waddle Dee overcame a broken pillar holding something.

“Don’t come any closer!” Meta Knight shouted out.

Waddle Dee turned around, gained momentum, and threw what he was holding in his hand.

“Meta Knight! Here…!”

Something flew through the air. Meta Knight quickly reached out and took it.

Immediately, Meta Knight’s whole body shook. His fatigue and pain disappeared as they were swept away. He felt the power in his hand.

“My treasured sword… the Galaxia!”

It’s unmistakable and genuine. Meta Knight held the Galaxia high. A bright light spilled from the tip of the sword.

Morpho Knight attacked. Meta Knight lightly dodged, shook up and jumped high.

“Spinning Knight!”

While spinning in the air, he slashed at Morpho Knight.

Morpho Knight flinched and was struck down.

Then, immediately, he held his sword horizontally and drill slashed!

Morpho Knight was blown off and struck against a collapsing wall.

Meta Knight had completely regained his power. The Galaxia gave him strength. And the Galaxia was also strengthened by returning to the hands of its true owner. The sword fighter and the sword, united for increased power!

However, Morpho Knight wasn’t finished.

When he stood up, he swung his sword down and sent crescent shock waves one after another. They flew with tremendous speed, but Meta Knight didn’t give up, dodging one after another, getting closer to him.

“Take this-!” Meta Knight swung after Morpho Knight. 

Morpho Knight disappeared suddenly. He escaped with teleportation in an instant. Morpho Knight materialized above and behind Meta Knight.

Meta Knight looked back, feeling sick.

Morpho Knight slid in and rushed through the air.

It was tremendous speed. Meta Knight couldn’t dodge it.

“Kah…!” He was moving before he realized.

He grabbed the Galaxia, held it in front of him, and took a strong stance.

At the moment of attack…

“Galactic Counter!”

A deadly mystery that uses the enemy’s attack power against them!

There was no delay, the timing was perfect.

“...ts!” Morpho Knight stiffened his whole body and his attacks were slow.

The game was on. Meta Knight quietly stared at the enemy.

A streak of light spilled out of Morpho Knight. The lights gradually increased, two, three, and the brightness increased. His mask, his sword, and his wings on his back were swallowed by the white light. The knight turned into a ball of light and disappeared with a burst.

After the knight disappeared, countless red butterflies were dancing. The butterflies flew turbulently, fading little by little, and eventually disappeared as if melting away.

“Meta Knight…”

Meta Knight, staring at the disappeared butterflies, was called and turned around.

It was Kirby. He had been injured in the fight, but seemed to regain some energy.

“Did you win?”

“...Yes.”

“Meta Knight really is strong! I couldn’t do it at all.” Kirby looked a little sick.

Behind him, King Dedede stood up slowly. “Uh… Uugh…!”

The king, leaning on his hammer, managed to support his body and said with envy. “I was supposed to do it… I could’ve mustered the strength…!”

“Didn’t you turn and run?”

“I didn’t run off! I was getting a better vantage point!”

Blade Knight also stood up, in tears. “Meta Knight, sir, wow, you’re safe!”

“Yes. No need to worry about me.”

“But what happened? I could have sworn you were on the battleship Halberd…”

Waddle Dee rushed in before Meta Knight answered. “Meta Knight! You won!”

“Waddle Dee.” Meta Knight turned to Waddle Dee.

“I’m grateful you returned my strength with the Galaxia. Thank you.”

“I just carried it. It was the Galaxia that strengthened you…”

Waddle Dee jumped up. “Wait, we still need your help! Your knights are in a hole!”

“A hole?”

“This way!”

Meta Knight followed Waddle Dee to the knights.

The rescued knights were quiet, even surrounding Meta Knight. Everyone’s hearts were so full that no words came out.

Meta Knight opened his mouth. “It was foolish of me to worry, everyone fought so well.”

“Meta Knight, sir…!”

The Meta Knights wept as if the thread of tension had broken.

Sword Knight said. “You’re the real Meta Knight, aren’t you”

“Do I look like a fake?”

“No! You’re definitely real! There’s a big difference!”

Sword Knight saw Beryl crouching down.

Mace Knight snuck behind and grabbed Beryl’s head.

Axe Knight asked, “Let’s punish him for what he’s done. What do you think?”

“Hm…” Meta Knight thought about it.

Beryl was shaking, rattling. 

Javelin Knight spoke. “Let’s tie him to the bow of the battleship and let him enjoy space travel.”

Trident Knight replied, “Why don’t we send him to Castle Dedede? Let the Waddle Dees take a break and let him do all the castle work alone!”

Axe Knight added, “No, let’s send him to all the towns he destroyed and make him fix them back up again! First, Dreamland!”

Meta Knight spoke. “That’s still too kind. Let’s tie him up so he can’t move and have Kirby perform a song for him.”

“Eh!?” Kirby was surprised. “Why do I have to sing for this guy!? What a waste…!”

“...No, trust me.” Meta Knight told Kirby. “Persuade him with your wonderful singing that he should never do anything wrong again.”

“...Eh? Persuade him?”

“Listening to a wonderful song can change someone’s mind.”

“Oh yeah… songs have the power to move hearts. I see!” Kirby was determined and nodded. “I will sing! It’ll be a moving song that will gentle the heart of any villain!”

“While you’re at it, would you like to serve your home cooking as well? You should make a special dish that will make him cry with excitement.”

“Okay! Looks like Meta Knight is kind to his enemies.”

“Waddle Dee.”

Waddle Dee, who was swaying and listening to the story, jumped up when Meta Knight called out. 

“Ye...yes!”

“I’ll leave it to you. Hold Kirby a concert and set up a special seat for Beryl. Don’t forget to serve Kirby’s special dishes. Have Beryl eat until he is full.”

“Uh… uh… uh, yes…!” Waddle Dee imagined it and nodded in tears of fear.

(Me, Meta Knight…! What a terrifying thing! Kirby’s song is so terrible it could crack the walls of Castle Dedede, and Kirby’s food is so bad he could lose his appetite for the rest of his life…!)

Kirby said with a smile. “Heh, I’ll do my best! Let’s work together, Waddle Dee!”

“Ah… okay…”

“What should I sing? I have to sing with all my heart so Beryl doesn’t do bad things again… of course, I’ll do my best to cook too… Wow, I’m excited! Hey Beryl, I hope you’re looking forward to it!”

“Oh, oh. I’m sure I’ll change my mind.” Beryl was relieved and grinned.

The Meta Knights and King Dedede whispered in the shadow.

“Beryl’s acting like he’s saved.”

“How stupid, he doesn’t know the horror of Kirby.”

“Meta Knight is too cruel. No matter what he did, I’m sorry for Beryl.”

“How could sir make such a proposal…”

“Wow, he’s not kidding around! Good luck, Beryl!”

Meta Knight turned over his cloak and started walking. “Well then, let’s go back to the battleship Halberd.”

“Yes sir!” His subordinates saluted in unison and lined up.

Captain Vul and the Meta Knights were enjoying tea time leisurely for the first time in a long while.

Meta Knight wasn’t there. It seems he had something to do, so he went out without telling them where he was going.

Captain Vul was talking about, of course, Meta Knight.

Axe Knight said. “Even so, it’s strange. Why did Meta Knight, who had been unconscious on the Halberd, appear in the ancient temple?”

Captain Vul replied. “I have an idea, but I can’t quite explain it. I think…”

Captain Vul took a sip of his tea and continued.

“At that time, Meta Knight’s body and mind were disjointed. His body was in a bed in the Halberd here, but his mind was wandering somewhere else.”

“...Huh.”

“Usually, the wandering heart returns to the body. However, Meta Knight is a very strong person, so I think this time his body was called to his heart.”

“...Hmm.”

Blade Knight said. “Meta Knight has a strong body, though.”

“...Well, that is correct. However, if anything, his heart is stronger!”

“Persuasive, if not…” Sword Knight muttered.

“At that time, Galacta Knight took a big hit. Moreover, he was combined with the red butterfly to become even more powerful.”

“Yeah, but what about it?”

“I think I’ve got it. Meta Knight’s desire to fight a strong opponent called to his body.”

“I see, then I understand.”

The Meta Knights nodded.

“Meta Knight’s enthusiasm to fight can be a bit overkill.”

“Hold your tongue. Meta Knight doesn’t like fighting. He likes to make himself stronger.

“Regardless, his desire to fight a strong enemy caused a miracle.”

“As expected from our master!”

Around the time when the peaceful tea party was held on the Halberd, Kirby’s special dinner concert was being held in the basement of the Castle Dedede.

Meta Knight was standing alone in a flower garden of Dreamland.

A pleasant breeze blew and the colorful flowers swayed.

Meta Knight picked up a yellow flower and took a deep breath. It had a refreshing smell.

“It has a nice scent. Pink was… too sweet, wasn’t it?”

Meta Knight couldn’t forget Papi’s happy voice. The whole time he was trying to stop Meta Knight from returning to the original world… At the very end, he was desperate to save Meta Knight. Without Papi, Meta Knight wouldn’t have been able to return to this world.

He wondered, what was Papi doing now? Was he fluttering around looking for someone to talk to?

At that moment, a white butterfly flew by and perched on a yellow flower. It was slowly drinking from the flowers.

Meta Knight muttered in a small voice. “If one day you go to that world, let me know.”

The butterfly stopped moving, as if it had heard Meta Knight’s words.

“I’d like to thank that talkative butterfly with light blue wings. Papi was a good guide… no, a good friend.”

The butterfly fluttered away, and began to fly from flower to flower.

Meta Knight quietly watched until the butterfly disappeared.

(Chapter 9 - Table of Contents)

(The end, thank you so much for reading and all of your support!)

[hello-im-not-a-possum]

The biggest acquired fears of the BATIM FIFE cast.

Henry - Fear of deja vu and or being seen as a villain/hero. Luckily for him, the toons and Ink monsters tend to make his life calm enough for him to rest easy despite the circumstances but also make his life chaotic enough for him to not panic, better yet, most of them mentally register him as “Just some retired artist that was overhyped by Joey, but he’s made some cool works outside of the Bendy shit.” after things calm down.

Linda - She has a lot of weird, brand new fears stemming from this situation, but can’t really point to one and call it her biggest one. Top five are: Being torn apart and eaten, knowing that Joey has erased Henry’s memories of her before and that he could probably do that again, getting stuck in a time loop, losing her humanity and being warped into a parody version of herself, and Joey figuring out how to unlock their bedroom door.

Joey - Losing his memories and personality in the Ink, Sammy and Buddy do not help this fear by giving him the gory details about what it’s like to lose yourself to the ink first hand.

Wally - Being alone, abandoned, and or left immobile. His time spent as a sentient prop really did a number on his mental state.

Sammy - A lot of things, top five are: the notion of Itself in a romantic and or sexual relationship (liked romantic relationships before the studio, always hated sexual ones even before then, but now it fears being in one again. Platonic and or familial relationships are fine and cool.), losing its regained humanity, losing its recently gained godhood, the knowledge that it will never, ever be even close to being the man that it used to be and being constantly compared to him by old coworkers who also aren’t the people they used to be but refuse to acknowledge that because its changes are “more noticeable” and “He’s completely different now...” well, YOU try keeping your old ideals and personality when the world’s changing, you need to hold an entire town together for your ex-god’s sake, and there’s thousands of other peoples’ thoughts and views on you being dumped directly into your brain every given second you unsympathetic fuck, and Susie, it’s absolutely terrified of Susie.

Jack - The possibility of him having to be in the same hivemind with Joey. Thankfully for him, the former director just became a toon instead.

Norman - Losing his sentience again. He’s also cautious of being left alone with either the Ink Demon or Joey. The former because he’s afraid he’ll be killed again, and the latter because he’s afraid he won’t be able to stop himself from killing again.

Susie - Mirrors, Being used and or seen as stupid, and she’s also not a fan of being feared.

Allison - The woman she used to be, everything and anything she hears about her from anyone other than Tom is... ...not pleasant...

Thomas - Joey being romantically interested in him. (Sammy has hinted to him of this being a possibility due to how Joey shows his love and it makes him shudder.) He’s also afraid of others seeing him as Joey’s “right hand lapdog”.

Bertrum - Thomas. Learning just what the former mechanic was capable of made him see him in a new, more sinister light.

Lacie - Being rendered powerless and stuck in a chaotic situation completely out of her control. There’s a rumor in the Lost and Searching town that this fear of hers is what inspired her to take charge as the head of the council as she feared that without a leader for them to look up to, the town would spiral into chaos.

Grant - Not being able to live up to the (real and imagined) standards of their former leader as he looked up to it during their time in Ink hell. The town (Including Sammy itself AND its psychiatrist) tell him that he’s doing great and that he doesn’t need to try to replicate Sammy to lead them, but that fear still lingers...

Shawn - Himself, he finds it hard to control his new strength outside the studio and it terrifies him.

Emma - The toons. Specifically, she fears that her strict, uptight personality makes her seen as a ‘straight man’ to them and their antics.

Buddy - Getting lost to the Ink again and also the Ink Demon. Just because He behaves like a domesticated Saturday morning cartoon villain doesn’t mean He’s any less powerful than He was before, in fact, the former gofer assumes that He’s gotten even stronger now that He’s no longer being held back by Joey...

Dot - Fire and or getting burned.

Lord Inkwell “Inky” The Ink Demon - Sammy. He doesn’t show it because He thinks it’ll make Him look ‘weak’, but His ex-prophet really struck the fear of god into Him over the course of its journey, especially at the end of said journey when it killed and ate His mom.

Malice - Getting flicked off Susie’s shoulder. And or squashed, swatted, etc. While she’s thankful that she wasn’t destroyed or left to rot, she hates her new size and role as Susie’s shoulder demoness.

Deus Machina “The Ink Machine” - Once She learned what living was like, She feared having to lose it. But She feared the notion of losing Her only real friend and companion so much more than losing Her life.

Bendy - Being feared. He didn’t know how scary that was until his two doppelgangers turned his mischievous reputation into a malicious one.

Alice - The Ink Demon, something about him just makes him seem like the scariest demon she’s ever met, even worse than Papa Pluto himself...

Boris - Getting gutted.

[tortilla-of-courage]

The land of Hyrule is one rich with history and legends. Many of which have been lost to time itself. The tales of old long morphed into something near unrecognizable from what they once were. Centuries of wars and disasters erasing more and more of them, to the point where they are nothing that whispers in the wind. If you listen close, you can still hear them.

So listen now and hear the one of the oldest tales of them all. One that was lost when the humans went to the skies.

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

Back when that land was still named  ‘Hylia’ after their great Goddess, a great war sent what few humans that had survived into the sky, to keep them safe. But why was this war started?

Those who have heard the tale would say that it was because the Demon Demise was after the Triforce, and they wouldn’t be wrong. But the true answer is not that simple. Nor is the question.

The real question you should ask is; Why did Demise wait until then to get the Triforce?

The answer; Because his only real obstacle was indisposed for the time being.

One fact that was left out of the stories that were taken to the skies, was that the War between the Goddess Hylia and the Demon Demise had been going on for over a millennia before it ever put the humans Hylia loved so deeply in danger.

Because for that millennia, there was balance. A balance far greater than any that has come to the land since. Because there was one other Deity that had kept the Goddess and the Demon at bay from each other.

And he was the Fierce Deity.

Demise, Hylia, and Kishin

He was Fierce, yet kind-hearted.

Chaotic, yet orderly.

Feared, yet also Loved.

He kept the balance between the Goddess’s light and the Demon’s hatred.

But that wasn’t to say that Kishin didn’t have his own enemies. He did. As there was another Demon, that was not of this realm that threatened the land. It threatened the balance that Kishin worked hard to keep. This Demon’s name, was Majora.

When Majora’s pure chaos threatened the land, Kishin battled him.

For three day and three nights, the Deity and the demon battled, neither gaining an advantage over the other.

After three days and three nights, Kishin realized that he would not be able to beat the demon, so instead he used his power to seal Majora in a mask.

Then he hid the Demon’s Mask away where it was to stay for all of time.

But all was not well.

Once he returned from his three day battle with Majora, the Goddess Hylia called him to tell him of something she had learned during the three nights that he had been away.

“It seems that the demon Demise can only be killed by a mortal.”

“But there is no mortal of a caliber that would have the strength needed to defect him.”

“Not currently, no.”

“So what is it that you need of me?”

“I know that you simply wish to keep the balance in this world, so it pains me to ask you this, as it would mean that my Light would have an advantage, but I would like to ask you, if you would be willing to become a mortal for one of their lifetimes, so that way Demise can be defeated for good.”

Kishin thought over the Goddess’s wish for a moment. To be reincarnated as a Mortal? Would it be truly worth it for the balance of the world? Demise's forces were strong, and if Kishin was to become a mortal, even for one of their short lifespans, they would only become stronger. But then, another thought struck him.

Would Light having more influence on the land be a bad thing? Hylia herself, also respected balance. And from what he learned from his battle with Majora, there were always others that would threaten to upset the balance for the darkness.

So while the Kishin wished for balance, he knew that the land would prosper under light.

“I will.”

And so Kishin was reborn as a mortal. His godly power put into a mask in case something far worse came in the time in which he was a mortal.

Hylia did everything in her power to make sure to prepare him for what was to come. He did not have his memories of being the Deity, as then the plan would undoubtedly fail, So instead she made sure that he had the expercine that he needed. His skill had stayed with him through his reincarnation, so she need not worry about that, so instead, she needed to prepare his mind for the horrors that would come.

What she did not expect, was that she would become attached to his mortal self.

The more gentle parts of his personality were the ones that had come to the surface, and his features, while slightly different, as many of them were marks of himself as Kishin, were quite handsome on his human form.

She found herself falling for Kishin, no Link. That was the name his mortal parents gave him, so that was the name that she would call him too, for the time being.

It only took 24 years for Demise to enact his plan to take the Triforce after Kishin became Link. Four of which he had spent imprisoned by the people that he was to protect.

After they released him, so that way he could fight alongside them, Hylia came down to speak with him for the first time since he had become mortal, and she realized how little he had changed in terms of how he spoke.

Clear, to the point. At one point, she almost found herself calling him ‘Kishin’ instead of ‘Link’.

But she did what she needed to do so that way Link would have what was needed to defeat Demise.

Only it wasn’t enough.

Link was gravely injured in his fight with the demon, so, as a last minute effort, she sent what remained of the humans to the sky, along with the triforce. Then, she went to see him.

Knowing that it was her fault that he had ended up like this, Hylia felt nothing but guilt as she held his body. After all, she was the one who asked him to become mortal in the first place. He had agreed to it, but what was the cost?

Demise still had to be defeated.

And so Hylia decided to reincarnated Kishin once more, along with herself.

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

And so marks the end to a tale that never made it to the sky. But if you must know what happened after, I’ll tell you.

Hylia’s plan worked. Kishin, now twice born as a human named Link, was able to defeat Demise. And together, Hylia, or Zelda in her human form, lived out the rest of this lifetime with him. But while she had regained her memories of being Hylia, she never told Link that he was Kishin.

Instead, she prepared what she was going to say to him once she became Hylia again and he was once again Kishin, but that time never came.

You see, at the end of the battle, when Demise knew that he had lost, he placed a curse onto the boy that had once been Kishin. That was to be reborn, along with his hatred. And the he, and those with the Goddess's blood would forever be trapped in the cycle.

Because of this, Hylia never again was able to speak with Kishin. And his power, was to remain within it's mask, for all of time.

I- HELLO DID YOU JUST SEND IN A WHOLE FIC?

[somethingwritey]

commission: “kids in love” - a zukka fic

hi all! i was commissioned to write a zuko/sokka fic by @kurisu-80. it features a 5+1 style, some hurt/comfort, and lots of zuko pining. we brainstormed the premise of the fic before i began, and it’s here just in time for valentine’s day! 

💖 commission me! visit this post for more commission details!

---

Zuko didn’t know how to feel.

The hardest part was over, presumably, and yet the brand new emotion coursing through his body - no doubt unlocked by the Avatar’s reluctant trust - unsettled him. He wanted a name for it.

After thinking it over, he settled on relief.  

For so long, he’d been consumed by nothing but white-hot anger - and beneath that, searing pain - that relief was hard to recognize. It wasn’t hot. Instead, it ran down his back and legs and arms like water. But… he had to admit, he rather liked it.

“Unpack,” came a voice behind him. Zuko jumped a little; he’d almost forgotten that Sokka was still there in the doorway. “Lunch soon. Uh… welcome aboard?”

Welcome.

Zuko hadn’t felt welcome in a long time.

He looked up at Sokka to thank him, but paused - suddenly struck by his eyes.

Blue. Water. Cool. Healing. Wonderful.

Zuko suddenly felt the need to study Sokka’s eyes forever, to never tear his gaze away. Sokka let him for a moment, like he understood Zuko’s need. And then the moment passed, with Sokka shaking off whatever had come over him and exiting the room.

Zuko didn’t move, though, staring after him for a while longer. A new heat had begun somewhere in his body, but it wasn’t anger. It was… contained. Almost hungry. He wished he knew what it meant.

Two new emotions in one day had to be some kind of record.

///

Sokka looked… younger when he slept, somehow. Like one of the tired kids they all were instead of a general orchestrating a covert rescue mission into the depths of the Fire Nation’s most heavily guarded prison.  

Zuko watched him for a few moments before training his eyes back on the landscape around them.

Don’t be creepy, he scolded himself. Sokka wasn’t his to look at like that.

Instead, he thought back to what Sokka had said before they left.

“I have to regain my honor.”

Zuko shivered a little at the memory, so similar to his own favored mantra and yet, somehow so different. Zuko’s had been selfish. He’d wanted to save himself; Sokka just wanted to save his father. And Zuko was fairly certain Sokka wouldn’t mind staying behind in the prison forever if it meant ensuring his father’s freedom.

The Water Tribe boy didn’t need to regain any honor; he had more in every bone of his body than Zuko ever would.

Maybe that’s why Zuko was so drawn to him.

///

Oddly enough, the version of Sokka dominating Zuko’s mind that night wasn’t the one splayed out with a rose in his mouth.

Although he was thinking about it. Maybe a little too much.

But the Sokka that he’d been shown after had wrapped a hand around his heart and squeezed until Zuko thought it might burst.

Vulnerability. Sokka had shown him vulnerability.

He thought about the way Sokka’s voice changed when he talked about his mother’s murder. Beneath the jokes and the sarcasm, Sokka was quietly patching over the part of himself that he’d lost - same as Zuko.

Zuko wished suddenly that he’d told him about losing his mother, too. Maybe the other boy would’ve confided in him further. Maybe it would’ve been Zuko that Sokka would set up candles for by moonlight and looked forward to -

Stop!

That feeling was back. Zuko shook his head and limbs, trying to scare it away. He had to stop this obsession. It was eating away at him, leaving him exposed.

After the war is over, this will end, he told himself. You’re just bored. Nervous. It won’t be like this forever.

By the end of the night, watching Suki sneak away from Sokka’s tent in the early morning light, he’d almost convinced himself that was true.

///

Fire Lord Zuko.

The title still sounded so foreign and unwieldy. Like it didn’t quite belong to him.

“Congratulations, Your Zukoness,” came a voice.

Zuko turned around, raising an eyebrow. “Sokka, how did you get in here? I thought -”

“Eh, Toph is distracting the guards.” Sokka shook his head. “You really should get some better security, I mean. A couple of rocks and -”

“Sokka!”

Sokka smiled, resting his weight on the crutch he was using. Zuko was instinctively aware of the bandages wrapped around his own torso beneath the heavy new robes.

They all bore scars of the recent battle; peace had come at a cost.

“I came to wish you luck in person,” Sokka continued, less joking and more genuine now. “You’ve come a long way.”

“Aren’t you coming to have some tea with Uncle tonight?” Zuko furrowed his brow. Was Sokka leaving? Was this goodbye?

“Yeah, yeah.” Sokka waved his hand. “But everyone is gonna be there. I wanted to tell you in private, I guess.”

In private.

Zuko hoped his cheeks didn’t look as hot as they felt. Even after Sokka left to join his father and Katara outside at the reception, he found himself smiling… just a little.

Sokka had that effect on people.

///

Time was a finicky thing, Zuko was realizing.

One moment, they were children, and the next, they… weren’t. Or maybe they’d never been children at all, too burdened with adult worries and fears their whole lives. Most of them had lost people at a young age, forced to grow up far too quickly.

Aang had lost his entire culture.

Zuko had lost his mother.

Katara and Sokka had lost their mother, too. And now their father.

Chief Hakoda had passed peacefully in his sleep, Zuko had been told. Even after the tenuous usurpation attempt by Gilak, Hakoda’s time at the helm of the Southern Water Tribe could hardly be called blemished. His strength and rationality had brought them to new levels of international recognition and power.

He had been one of the most influential chiefs in Water Tribe history.

Zuko hadn’t been able to make it to Hakoda’s memorial - unable to get out of several Fire Nation industrialization meetings - but he had managed to make it to the South to see Sokka become the next Chief.

“You made it,” Sokka said after the short ceremony. “I wasn’t sure you would.” His voice was heavy - lacking its usual bravado.

“I wouldn’t miss it.” Zuko laid a hand on Sokka’s shoulder, walking with him across the frozen landscape - away from everyone else. “I’m so sorry about your father.”

Sokka’s eyes turned glassy, and he looked away - unable to speak.

“He was a good man,” Zuko continued. “And he would be proud of you. I know it.”

Without warning, Sokka threw his arms around Zuko, burying his head in his shoulder. Surprised, Zuko stayed frozen, wishing he could do more to comfort the strongest man he knew.

“You’re going to make a great chief,” he said quietly.

When Sokka lifted his head, his face was inches away from Zuko’s - closer than the two of them had been in a long time. Zuko almost leaned forward, almost cut through the last bit of space between them, but before he could, Sokka was moving away.

“Thanks, Zuko.” He straightened his furs. “I should get back to Katara and our people now. You’re welcome to stay the night.”

And then he was gone.

////

Zuko hadn’t stopped pacing all morning.

He’d sent the letter after an agonizing few days of rewriting, second-guessing and re-thinking.

But he’d finally done it. Finally watched the messenger hawk lift into the sky. And now, all that was left to do was wait.

“Fire Lord Zuko?” a guard said, at last, bowing low as he entered the room. “The Chief of the Southern Water Tribe is here to see you.”

Zuko took a deep breath, straightening his topknot. “Send him in.”

Sokka burst through the doors, trailed by a couple Water Tribesmen. “I got your message,” he called before he’d even reached Zuko’s side of the room. “What’s the big emergency? Where’s the threat?”

Sokka looked strong - a powerful and more confident version of himself. Being the leader of the Southern Water Tribe had been good for him.

Zuko glanced at the entourage Sokka had brought and winced. He needed to speak with him privately.

“Give me a moment alone with your Chief,” he said to the others. Glancing at his own attendants, he waved for them to be dismissed, too. He wanted the throne room to be perfectly and totally empty.

“What’s this about?” Sokka looked around, seemingly unnerved. “What’s wrong?”

“I wanted…” Zuko cleared his throat. “I want to talk to you. About a partnership between the Southern Water Tribe and the Fire Nation.”

Sokka raised an eyebrow. “What kind of a partnership?”  

Zuko swallowed hard. “The kind where their Chief and Fire Lord are… together.”

“Okay, okay.” The true meaning of Zuko’s words clearly hadn’t registered with Sokka, who began to tap his chin. “We team up, you’re saying? Form a political alliance? Hold on, hold on - don’t we already kind of have one? Isn’t that what my Dad was trying to -” And then he broke off, eyes narrowing. “Wait, together? Like… as a couple?”

Zuko rubbed the back of his neck. “Well, when you say it like that -”

“I didn’t say it! You did!”

Sensing Sokka’s imminent rejection, Zuko tried to save the situation. “I didn’t - look, it’s not like that, I just meant -”

“You made this whole emergency up, didn’t you?” Sokka shook his head. “Just to get me here! That’s -”

Zuko cringed, waiting.  

“Kinda genius,” Sokka finished, nodding. “Somewhat evil. But genius.”

“I’ve liked you for a long time,” Zuko sighed. “I think. It’s confusing. But I just couldn’t wait any longer to tell you. I had -” His eyes widened for a moment as Sokka’s lips landed on his before they fluttered shut.

When they broke apart, Sokka seemed surprised at his own actions. “Is randomly kissing the Fire Lord grounds for arrest here?”

The idea made Zuko laugh. “Not if the Fire Lord wanted it to happen.”

Sokka grinned, and then paused. “You - you did want it to happen, right?”

“Yeah.” Zuko leaned forward to kiss him again. “For longer than you could possibly imagine.”

Finally, Zuko thought, letting himself get caught up in the moment. He understood what that feeling was now, the one he’d been so confused about that day at the temple and every day after that.

Love.

He loved Sokka, so full of honor and eyes bluer than water.

And he probably always would.

----

💖 keep an eye out for more commission pieces coming soon!

💖 message me about writing for you! send a private message or find me on twitter @/catrameows!

[tttinytrash]

 Another of Shy’s lovely prompts! This time we have big Swap Papyrus as our merskele, and a highly unfortunate reader. Not much other preamble on this one, so let’s jump into it!

How had everything gone so wrong so fast?

The storm had come seemingly out of nowhere, and your tiny boat was being buffeted around like it was nothing. The icy sting of the wind-whipped rain juxtaposed terribly with the aching fire beneath your skin as you overworked muscles desperately tried to wrangle the lines to get you the heck out of this mess. 

You lost your footing on the soaked deck and tumbled harshly, catching yourself on the rope around the perimeter of your boat just barely. You clung for dear life as a huge swell dangerously tilted your entire hull, threatening capsizing you and your only hope of getting out alive. It was in this moment you saw a faint orange glow beneath the waves, but you had absolutely no time to consider what it could be as you scrambled back to your position to try and regain control of the boat before you hit the rocky outcropping nearby.

You got your ropes again and fought like mad, but it quickly became futile as an enormous wave struck you along the starboard side and tossed you off the boat, into the rocks. Thankfully, you missed the worst of them but felt a sharp pain in your left leg. You fought back the pain and came back to air to see your boat had been mercilessly dashed into the rocks shortly after you, and had begun to sink. 

You desperately paddled, kept aloft by your life jacket, but your safety gear was no match for whatever had apparently wrapped around your good leg and dragged you towards Davy Jones. You fumbled where you felt the pulling, realizing a rope from the boat was tangled around your leg. Thankfully your knife was still folded on your belt and you used it to saw off the rope. Without its pull you were rushing towards the surface again, but it seemed so far off you weren’t sure you’d make it from this depth. Is this how you left this world?

As your body was pulled upwards by your own paddling and the buoyancy of your vest, blackness creeped on the edge of your vision. ...and orange?

-----

Papyrus had felt the distress from a strong soul from deep below the waves. From his vantage point and because of his size the stormy currents were a novelty, but clearly for whoever had been caught above it was life or death. 

...maybe he’d just go check on them, push their boat out of the worst of it and back towards shore. Yeah, that’s all. No biggie. 

He came near the surface and saw it was lone human on a small boat. Jeez, how had they even lasted this long on their own? He was impressed, but looking for an opening in which he could help without being spotted. Humans spelled trouble for his kind, and despite the 0 EXP he saw in his Check he couldn’t not be wary. The last thing his bro or the rest of the school needed was hunters.

Unfortunately his caution meant the storm beat him to the punch, and smashed the ship. Oh Delta, was the human dead?

No! He could still feel the bright flare of determination somewhere... below him?

They were being dragged down by the wreckage, and as he darted towards them to free their leg he saw them do it themself. Oh gosh, they had a knife. The weapon made him hesitate again, which meant he felt their determination start to peter out. Their grip went slack as the knife fell away, consciousness slipping due to lack of air.

Curse him and his soft Soul!

He sped over, cupped his hands around them, and propelled them both towards air as fast as his fins could go. Delta let him not be too late...

The hoarse hacking when he made it to air was more of a relief than he’d expected, but after mostly clearing their lungs the fatigue won out and they collapsed into his hands They seemed barely aware and were just making drunken sounds, but their eyes did intermittently open.

During his observation, the waves of the storm actually managed to surprise him and dunk his skull underwater, but he managed to keep the human in the air thankfully. 

There was nothing else for it, he had to take them in and get them both out of this mess.

He took a brief moment to spit out seawater so the human would have air, then slipped them into his mouth without much ado. Tossing his skull back brought them to the opening of his throat, and they weakly threw their arms out as if to steady themself. The sluggish movement hopefully meant they weren’t fully aware still, as he didn’t have any time for reassurances (he narrowly avoided being dunked again and the storm was getting even worse) and didn’t need a fighting human inside. One strong swallow brought them swiftly toward his core, at which point he left the surface. 

One hand was absently brought to rest on his middle, where he felt the human slide in and go mostly still. He still felt the bright power of their soul, so they were alive, but they may have finally succumbed to exhaustion and passed out. That was fine by him, that left him time to figure out what the heck his next move would be.

-----

Wakefulness was slow to come back to you, and you spent a blissful moment in hazy awareness. 

Sadly for you, memory snapped back into place in the next moment which made you to jolt upright. The rapid movement was more than your abused body wanted to handle, and it very clearly told you as much. Well apparently you had to take a breather, so you took stock of your condition. Your headache throbbed in time with your pulse, your muscles ached from overuse, and your throat and eyes hurt from saltwater, but you were alive. You looked to your legs, which were the areas that hurt worst. The left was a rainbow of bruises and may or not be able to be stood on, but you were both surprised and relived the underlying bone wasn’t utterly shattered from your unfriendly meeting with the rocks. Meanwhile the right had an ugly forming bruise and plenty of abrasion from the rope that had wrapped around you and dragged you down.

Oh, right. Now you recalled being dragged downwards after the destruction of your boat. So... what happened to you? You remembered rushing back towards the surface, but not reaching it.

Where were you?

You looked around and saw you were in a spacious cavern. The sand along the edge was widest where you sat, oddly bundled atop what was likely someone’s sail at one point. Maybe even yours. The center of the cavern, and indeed the majority of the “floor” so to speak was water. So this must have been an air pocket. How far underwater were you? How long would this air last? Then again, the cavern was huge for a single human so food and water would be the first priorities. But it was still concerning to have limited air supply. 

Any planning ended when movement from the water caught your attention. A giant freaking skull of all things rose from the depths, followed by the rest of a skeletal torso adorned with an orange tail. Oh, god, the orange glow had been this thing?! What did it want?!

You were frozen in place, much to your chagrin and the monster before you focused its gaze on you. Oddly, it smiled when it spoke “oh good, you made it.”

“W-where am I? Who are you? What do you want from me?!”

He actually managed to quirk an eyebrow at you without having eyebrows. “in a cave, papyrus, and nothing.”

“...What?” Everything just felt too fast right now, but your panic did start to fade the longer the monster before you did a grand total of nothing towards you.

He laughed a little, surprising you enough to shake off a good chunk of panic and actually process that he’d been answering your questions.

“S-sorry. I’m a little scrambled right now.”

“got that part, yeah.” he teased.

You couldn’t help the laugh in response before replying “It was, Papyrus, right? I’m Y/N.”

“good to meetcha, kiddo. so, how much do you remember after your boat crashed?

“Not much. I was underwater last I recall, how did I get here?”

“didn’t miss a ton then. i fished you out, but with the storm it was best to bunker down for awhile. it’s still pretty nasty up there. i can take you back to shore when the storm lets up. for now, how’re your legs?”

“Not the best, but I’ll live.”

“lemme heal you up then.” he said, bringing his hand up towards you and approaching.

“Woah! Wait!” You scrambled to move away, only managing to tangle yourself in the sail and bring a wave of white hot pain to your left leg.

“right, big scary monster. got it.” He backed off, hands up in surrender. 

You felt bad about it now, but couldn’t help that his sheer size made him intimidating. Even if he’d apparently been the reason you weren’t dead...

“let’s try from a distance then, show that i can help?” He formed a bone from nothing, glowing bright green and as big as your hand. Surprisingly, he shot the bone towards you, where it struck the bruising on the better leg and appeared to melt into the skin on contact.

You flinched, expecting pain from the impact, but found it just felt warm and tingly instead. Upon inspection, the soreness was diminished and the bruising was nearly gone. You looked up to Papyrus, mouth agape in wonder.

“heh, maaaagic~” he wiggled his fingers, clearly amused by your reaction. “can i help now?”

You hesitantly nodded, presenting your pretty busted leg. You two were stuck here for now, may as well give him a little leeway. 

You didn’t scramble away at his approach this time, but couldn’t help but tense up anyways. He gingerly brought his hands forward, laying the very tips of his long, thin fingers atop the damaged limb far more gently than it seemed should be possible for such large hands. Even the feather light touch made you flinch momentarily before his phalanges started to glow the same green as the launched bone had been. Warmth seeped into your leg, and it felt like a warm blanket on a cold rainy day. The energy being transferred somehow carried a sense of benevolence, which made you feel safe.

“we’re lucky it’s your tibia that got the worst of it. bones are my specialty, for obvious reasons.” He said, smiling a little at the final comment.

You chuckled at his observation, “I can see why. And, uh, thank you for everything, I don’t think I actually said that yet.”

“eh, don’t mention it.”

For how odd this whole encounter was, it wasn’t so bad at all.

-----

Well, as comfortable as the human had gotten with him (not feeling the fear radiating off them after awhile was such a gratifying feeling) he still wasn’t looking forward to getting them out of here. He kinda knew this was gonna be rough, but with the storm outside finally quelled he needed to get this little human back home. 

He had left the cave to assess the storm, but his thoughts were completely focused on how to make the next steps easier. So distracted, he almost swam past the entrance to the cave entirely. Luckily he snapped out of it and was able to redirect to enter the cave. The human perked up as soon as his skull crested the water, and he didn’t fight the smile in reply.

“ready to go back topside, squishy?” he asked.

“The storm is gone?” The human asked hopefully.

“yep, won’t be any trouble.”

“Ok so how do we do this? Are you just going to cup me in your hands, or...?”

“ah, about that. we’re pretty deep down, i don’t think you’d make it back to air just holding your breath.”

“Oh, well how did i get here then?”

“same way you’ll gave to get back, i just played submarine. i’ll just take you in, and you get to relax while i take us back towards the nearest port.”

“...I don’t follow.” 

They were confused and hesitant, but not outright scared yet. That was good. The hope was that being casual and forward about it would play off the trust he’d already built, “it’s totally safe, but the short version is i’d swallow you and let you out later.”

There was the inevitable flare of fear, but it wasn’t as strong as it could have been. “Safely? You’re sure?”

“yep. you’ve already done it, but i’m not surprised you don’t remember given your state when i found you.”

They were silent, but a plethora of emotions swirled around them. He could easily feel their distress without even trying.

Better try reassurance and appealing to logic, then. “kiddo, if i’d wanted to hurt you, wouldn’t i have already done it?” he kept his voice soft, non-accusatory, and gave them space to think. 

His words seemed to have cut through their clouded emotions and they nodded after a moment. “Yeah... you would have. Ok. If that’s how I get home, let’s do it. Can you just... make it quick? To uh... get me inside, that is.”

“you want me to just do it for ya?” he asked, somewhat surprised.

“Yeah, get it over with. I don’t want to think about that part too much if I’m being honest.”

“alright, can’t say i blame you.” He gently scooped the human into his hands, and his Soul sunk a little at how much they’d curled in on themself. “you can close your eyes if you want, i’ll tell you when it’s done.”

They took his advice, and he saw them cycle a steadying breath. Well, they’d said make it quick so...

He pinched the back of their shirt, hung them over his open mouth, and lowered them in. He was able to release them and the slight drop brought their legs into his throat. The extra space meant their head was fully behind his teeth, so he closed his mouth around their warm body. He felt their hands flutter blindly around the area as if they were fighting the urge to stop their descent. He decided to keep going, even if it felt a little wrong when they were so clearly anxious, to comply with their request for speed.

One swallow brought their hips down, and he felt his throat dip into the small of their back. Another gulp and he felt their ribcage stretch the ectoflesh around them, and a third brought their form fully inside his. He brought his hand up to trace their downward journey, until he lost them past his clavicles. He felt them spill into his belly a few seconds later, limbs flailing outwards as they startled in the suddenly more open space.

He didn’t think they really needed him to tell them, but went ahead and said it anyways “ok kiddo, that’s the whole trip. i’ll give you a sec to get your bearings before we head off.” While they settled, he leaned his spine along the sandy embankment in the cave and bought his hands to fold over his belly in concern for his worried passenger.

They did start to move around, movements shaky and uncertain. He didn’t comment, letting them figure things out as they pleased. Their tactile approach did feel pretty nice, actually, but he didn’t outwardly react for fear of discouraging them. Whatever observations their pawing at the walls and floor were helping them make was lessening the fear exponentially.

After a while he hesitantly asked “you doing ok in there?”

Their tiny voice sounded a little odd coming from so very close, “Y-yeah. I’m good. ...I’m good...”

“good. told you it was safe. how do you feel?”

“Confused? Overwhelmed? ...I’ve got a dumb question though.”

He laughed, which seemed to have knocked them over since he felt an impact inside. “whoops, sorry kiddo. but if you’ve got questions you can ask.”

“...What does this feel like for you?”

That surprised him, and he fumbled for something to say beyond “good.” They took up space, which was helpful considering it’d been awhile since his last meal. Definitely wouldn’t bring that up though, for fear of scaring them. 

“Papyrus?”

Shoot, had he been silent for that long? “sorry, surprised me there. uh, i guess this feels protective? kinda feels good, like a hug?”

“But you can feel me in here?”

“of course. you’re right here,” he lightly pressed in where he could feel their weight, and heard the squeak of surprise in response.

The squeak devolved into laughter, and they hesitantly pushed back at his invading hand. 

He chuckled and relented on the pressure, “alright, that one wasn’t even dumb. any more questions?”

“I guess that was the big one. Think I’m set to go.”

“cool, hold tight then.” He pushed off the sand, ducked out of the cave, and headed towards human civilization.

The human slid around due to the drastic shifts in gravity, but resettled relatively quickly.

After a bit, Papyrus offered “i can let you see where we’re going if you like.”

“You can do that?” they sounded excited at the prospect.

He turned his magic from opaque to transparent in reply, earning a happy gasp from the human as they quickly readjusted to take the best advantage of the view. He went quiet again, happy to let them enjoy the views of the ocean most human weren’t afforded. 

This really wasn’t how he’d planned for his day to go, but he couldn’t really say this experience left him disappointed. 

With any luck, maybe he’d get to see this little sailor out on the sea again.

[doridoripawaa]

Time was fickle, with too much power in her hands

Leaving foolish mortals subject to her demands.

One never seemed to know just how much time had passed

Or which breath they breathed would become their very last.

Relentlessly, the sands of time had flowed each day

And the lives these twins should have shared, drifted away.

When they should have been together, they were apart

Until they ceased to understand the other’s heart.

Fate would have denied them a chance to live at all.

But they faced their demons with their chins held tall.

Side by side, the star-crossed twins had once again met

And acted together without any regrets.

Now reunited, only one question remained.

The time the brothers had lost… could it be regained?

~~~

“...ran.”

A gentle voice, accompanied by a pair of warm, tender golden eyes.

“Saeran.”

A little shake of the shoulders accompanied the whispers this time.

“I know you aren’t sleeping, Saeran.”

As dawn’s light poured in through the windows, a young man with snow-white hair groaned and flitted his eyelids open. The soft pinks, oranges, and yellows of the outside that filtered in through the windows was enough to illuminate the eager, but fretful, face poised over his sleeping body. His emerald eyes narrowed as he scrutinized that face, which was finally starting to fill out around the edges again after the travesty he had endured. Apparently Honey Buddha chips and PhD Pepper could, actually, be beneficial for one’s health.

“I’m…” Saeran closed his eyes again and turned over onto his side, away from that burning golden gaze. “I’ll sleep now, Sae… Saeyoung.” The name felt bizarre on his lips, as if it were a name he wasn’t uttering himself. He knew it had been a great source of comfort in his youth, but after so many years of lies and deception, Saeran… had a lot to unlearn and relearn, to say the least. He still struggled to look directly at Saeyoung’s face, the face that reminded him of their past.

“Come onnn,” Saeyoung whined, and a small smile began to tug at the edges of the younger twin’s lips. Even though he wasn’t facing him, Saeran could easily picture the redhead’s lower lip sticking out in a pout and his freckled nose wrinkled up in frustration. “The sky is awake, so let’s wake up, Saeran.”

“Big talk coming from someone who also didn’t sleep,” Saeran commented casually, and he tried to pull up his blankets to cover his face.

The older twin, however, was not having any of his brother’s sass this morning.

“Rise and… shine!” Saeyoung chirped, and before Saeran could react, he grabbed onto the younger twin’s blankets and ripped them clean off of his body, giggling gleefully as he did so.

Saeran groaned inwardly (and perhaps outwardly, judging from the way Saeyoung was smirking at him) and pulled himself upright into a sitting position. The absence of blankets certainly would not stop him from sleeping, but candidly, he knew that his restless night wasn’t about to end in slumber anyway. He was trying to catch up on his years of sleep debt--he really was--but old habits die hard, and he was still the type of person who’d rather finish all of his tasks before taking any rest for himself.

Letting people down was the last thing that Saeran ever wanted to do.

He had taken up the torch of living for himself, but that did not mean that he suddenly stopped caring for all of the other people in his life. And despite everything, despite everything…

Saeyoung was near the top of his list of people he wanted to protect.

“You’ve got me,” Saeran conceded with a sigh, earning a hearty “yahoo!” from his brother. “Well, now that we’re both up,” he went on, brushing his bangs out of his minty eyes, “what did you have in mind for us for today?” He couldn’t be exactly certain of what his brother had planned; the elusive 707 was a mysterious, curious little cat, always sneaking this way and that. He must have had some sort of scheme up his sleeve, and Saeran was going to end up being dragged into it. He was happy to see Saeyoung being so playful, so mischievous, so cheerful again… but he could also be a bit of a headache.

“Fufufu,” Saeyoung chuckled, and his twin could have sworn that he saw a tail flicking eagerly behind him, “you see… I have nothing planned!” He put his hands behind his head and struck a wide grin at his brother. “Nothing at all!”

Confusion. Consternation. Curiosity.

Saeran narrowed his minty eyes at Saeyoung suspiciously. “Then… why are we awake?”

That, of course, was a question to which both of them knew the answer but neither of them wanted to vocalize it.

“Well, I just thought…” Saeyoung began, and then his arms dropped to his pockets, and his glittering golden gaze suddenly became clouded over with a hint of embarrassment. Embarrassment? Was Saeyoung… flustered? “I promised all those years ago that we would get to live freely, that we would get to do what we wanted.” A soft laugh slipped from his lips, but it was a sorrowful, pitiful sound, rather than a joyous one. As he lowered his head, Saeran couldn’t quite make out the expression in his eyes; the sunrise was reflecting off his glasses, obscuring his eyes--and his true feelings--beneath. “Well, the time has finally come!” He lifted his head and beamed at his twin again. “You’re in charge today, bro. Tell me how you want to spend the day!”

Saeran couldn’t shake this anxious feeling that crept up along his spine, sending a gentle shudder throughout his body. “Can… can we bring--”

“Brotherly bonding day!” Saeyoung interrupted him, and he folded his arms over his chest. “You. Me. That’s all.” His cheeks were nearly as red as his fiery curls, but Saeran could see how desperately he was trying to conceal just how uncomfortable and awkward he actually felt. The younger twin couldn’t help but admire his brother’s spirit; his ability to find laughter in even the darkest moments was a quality that had served him well.

“I’m in charge, then?” Saeran asked, looking for reassurance. He still felt his hair stand up and his nerves begin to prickle whenever he got too close to Saeyoung, but he was desperate to get over these feelings of dread. This was his beloved brother, his closest companion, his absolute ally. A day to catch up on lost time sounded… almost too good to be true. “Then, you’d better wear something comfortable.” Now a smirk played onto Saeran’s lips as Saeyoung tipped his head to the side curiously. “Be ready in 30 minutes.”

~~~

Through glades and underneath trees, traveled the twins

The elder being led by the younger one’s whims.

As birds chirped above and squirrels chattered in the trees,

Saeyoung couldn’t help but look at Saeran with glee.

“Are we there yet?” Saeyoung asked, but Saeran’s reply

Was but a shake of his head and an amused sigh.

“Be patient,” he murmured with a chuckle so soft,

That Saeyoung felt his heart soar high and aloft.

But then Saeran stopped, and with a smile on his face,

Turned ‘round and whispered, “Welcome to my happy place.”

The pair entered a field that was vibrant with life.

Of blooms, buds, and blossoms, the gorgeous field was rife.

“I come here when I need to breathe,” Saeran explained.

“When the world is getting tough and my heart feels pained.”

Just then, to the younger twin’s cheeks rose a soft blush,

“I want to share it with you,” he said in a hush.

Touched to his core, Saeyoung clutched his chest with his hand.

His brother had trusted him with this secret land!

“I want to make a crown for my lover, you see,

And I figured I’d let you accompany me.”

That was all Saeyoung needed to hear, ‘fore he said, “Let’s make beautiful crowns for your beloved’s head.”

As the sun traveled across the sky through that day,

The twins sat making flower crowns in their lil glade.

After making many wreaths of roses and mums,

Hunger began to rumble in both of their tums.

“If it wouldn’t be a hassle,” Saeran began,

“Not too far from here, I know of an ice cream stand.”

One twin wore a crown of lilac, one of aster,

As they raced to the shop to see who was faster.

One opted for strawberry, one for vanilla,

And they sat to watch folks from the nearby villa.

The sun was on the horizon, with bright pink rays,

To signal that the end was coming to the twins’ day.

As the first few stars twinkled in the growing night,

“Let’s head back,” Saeyoung prompted with a smile so slight.

Upon their return, the two climbed up to the roof,

One with a huge grin, the other a bit aloof.

But both were enchanted as they pointed up high,

Tracing constellations in the evening sky.

Saeyoung dared to turn his attention to Saeran,

And what he saw made his heart flutter yet again.

His twin was smiling, looking genuinely glad

As though the day with his brother weren’t half bad.

“Saeran,” Saeyoung whispered, his voice but a mumble.

“Thank you for today,” he said with a smile humble.

Saeran turned and replied, much to Saeyoung’s surprise

“Thank you, Saeyoung,” with a glimmer in his mint eyes.

~~~

A pair of flower crowns sat on the counter as the two brothers began to settle in for the night. Saeyoung yawned and stretched, ready to just fall asleep in his green pullover hoodie instead of actually changing into any pajamas. He wasn’t exactly sure how a day of weaving flowers and eating ice cream had taken so much of his energy, but he was willing to attribute that to a lack of sleep from the night before.

Well, a lack of sleep plus the constant fear gnawing at him that his brother secretly still loathed him and that he was just masking his fury and frustration as humility and timidity. Saeyoung had proposed the bonding day just as much for Saeran’s sake as for his own; they needed to make up for lost time, to try to reach out and understand one another again. Once they had been so close, they had been the other’s only ray of light in a world that constantly tried to snuff them out in darkness.

Now? He wasn’t exactly sure where they stood. Saeyoung didn’t know if he could ever again become that guiding light, that lighthouse in the night. But maybe, just maybe, he could be a candlestick, with a little flicker of hope, light, and warmth that could help lead his brother to safety and security.

‘Time for another sleepless night,’ the redhead thought, barely suppressing a sigh as he began to head towards his bedroom. “Thank you, bro,” he repeated once he saw that Saeran was also getting ready to turn in for the night. “It… it means a lot to me that you spent the day by my side.” A bit of a cheesy admission, sure, but in his efforts to change for the better, Saeyoung was trying to be more open about his feelings.

Maybe not to everyone, quite yet, but at least to his brother, his confidant.

“Well… good night, Saeran,” Saeyoung concluded at last, and he turned to open the door to the bedroom, eager to collapse and at least rest his eyelids even if sleep would never come.

A slight tug on his sleeve prompted him to stop before he ever reached the handle.

“S-S…” A soft whisper like a hiss trickled from the white-haired boy’s lips, and as Saeyoung turned his head to cast his twin a quizzical glance, he immediately noticed the vibrant vermillion that coated Saeran’s cheeks. “Saeyoung,” he managed to utter at last. “I… did not sleep at all last night,” he admitted finally, and Saeyoung almost began to worry that his brother wasn’t even breathing, judging from how red his face had become. “I kept… having nightmares.”

Saeyoung blinked sympathetically at his brother. He understood that feeling all too well. He couldn’t remember the last time he had had a full night of sleep without some sort of haunting memory creeping up in his psyche, too.

“I think… I would sleep better… if I knew that I’m not alone, that I’ll never be alone again.” His gaze softened as he drifted away into his thoughts, his memories, his feelings. “If I had a reminder that I am enough, that I have strength and courage, when I think I am alone and powerless.”

The intensity of the aquamarine gaze that bored into Saeyoung’s golden eyes almost set the older twin ablaze himself. “I need that reminder,” he admitted. “Which is why…” His voice trailed off, but he quickly regained his composure. “Saeyoung.”

“Yes?” Saeyoung chirped, standing straight at attention. What was fueling his brother’s fire?

“Would you… be my guardian angel tonight?” Saeran murmured at last. “Would you… stay by my side until I can fall asleep?”

Guardian angel. A chance to be the candlelight in his brother’s life, once again.

“Be ready in 10 minutes,” Saeyoung told him with a smirk and a wink. “I’m going to tell you a bedtime story.”

He certainly didn’t expect the day with his brother to go so smoothly.

He certainly didn’t expect the day with his brother to end like a dream.

He certainly didn’t expect the day with his brother to result in him finally getting some sleep.

But as the twins lay side by side, both passed out in slumberland, for the first time in years, they finally looked at peace with one another.

I am delighted to have written for @megami606sama 's beautiful art for the @mysme-rbb !

[belit0]

Anonymous:

Hey! I just found ur blog and I’m liking it, could I request something of Indra x reader smut in which they’re sparring and reader is pretty good, almost as good as him, and Indra has always liked her and she teases him and then he goes all dominant and smut ensues

Your relationship with Indra has always been different in an indecipherable way. All the students of the future heir of Ninshu were trained by him with rigor and hardness, hoping to form valuable warriors capable of defending their lives in the future. But when it comes to you, the way the Ōtsutsuki has to transmit his knowledge is… uncomfortable.

Unable to understand when the relationship with your Sensei changed so much, you start trying to go back over your memories. You have been appointed to Indra’s command since you were both just children, and as infants, your bond reached the rank of a beautiful friendship. However, as the years went by, that had changed.

With every ounce of respect that Indra gained in his person, the innocence he once carried as a toddler was lost. Was that why he barely came around to correct your mistakes? He showed no difficulty in directing degrading glances at less skilled students when they failed, but in your direction, there was never even a quick glance.  It was like being a ghost in front of his crimson eyes.

And it was painful to admit that perhaps, as he ascended in his position within the clan, and was soon to take up his position as a leader, he no longer wanted to associate with people from lower branches like you. After all, the only one you saw wailing around him was Ashura, and occasionally his Father.

But an undeniable determination ran through your veins every time you managed to execute one of his techniques in the same way he showed them. In front of the whole group of Indra’s students, you were the best at replicating his fire techniques and his close combat against another adversary. Satisfaction and pride flooded your chest as, one after the other, your opponent’s fell in front of you unable to match your skill.

And just when you thought your Sensei would finally recognize your talent… Indra was already leaving the scene, ignoring your wonderful display of strength, turning his back on you in the most offensive way a mentor can offer. If you were a weak woman, you would have shed tears every time the Ōtsutsuki refused to acknowledge your power, but your predicament does not know surrender.

This is how you decided to act. Indra was once one of your best friends, and although he would be your greatest superior in the future, today he still didn’t have absolute power over the clan. An intervention on the man was the first thing that came to your mind when you thought about your options to get answers.

One cloudy day, which promised a potential storm, you watched your Sensei walk out the gates of the village into the hills, just as he would do every day after his responsibilities. A routine that you knew very well. With dissimulation and light step, you followed him to his destination, without revealing your presence. Keeping a few meters behind him, you slipped through the upper branches of the trees, where the leaves perfectly reconciled your presence. With the stealth of your excellent ability, you watched as Indra began to practice his best skills. A smile appeared on your face when you noticed that you were able to execute them almost like him.

After half an hour, you noticed how your teacher relaxed within, what he believed, was the privacy of his training. Unaware of your presence, Indra stretched out his body, positioned himself in a less murderous pose and continued with his routine. You knew it was time to make your move.

Jumping without warning from your hideout, you landed hard on the forest floor, just as a flash of lightning illuminated the sky above you both. The man turned his face towards you just to watch the moment when your fist struck his face with overwhelming power. Faced with the surprise attack, the Ōtsutsuki flew back a few meters, until impacting with a tree trunk, where his body was embedded within the wood.

Fire engulfed your being as you saw your complete strategy, and the first of your long list of complete points. You would prove to your mentor that you were worthy of his attention and wisdom, and more importantly, you would beat up your best friend for behaving like an idiot with you.

“[Y/N]… what… the fuck… WAS… THAT!?” Indra grunted from his landing place, holding his face with one hand, while with the other he pushed himself off the wood to stand on his feet again.

"I am tired of your bullshit… Indra-Sama. I’m here to prove my worth to you.”

A scandalous thunderclap rumbled in the heights of the cloudy sky, which was turning blacker every second.

"I don’t need you to prove anything. Go home.”

The distance between you two was still great, as the man stood still in his place after being freed from the nature that had caught up him. He wiped his nose with the sleeve of his clothes, as your blow severely injured it. It is probably broken, but you will not pity him until he admits your value.

"Enough of that!”

“Enough of what?”

“What have I done to deserve your hatred, Indra? Why can’t you even look at my face when it’s your damn duty?”

“…[Y/N]… no… I don’t hate you.”

“Don’t fill your mouth with lies that you won’t be able to keep later, because I assume that if I leave now, everything will be the same when you return to the village.”

"Stop talking to me like that! Have you forgotten that I am your superior?”

"Until you deign to put your conflict with me into words, I will not see you as one! You may accuse me to your Father if you wish, but it will not change my resolve!”

The first drops of rain fell from the sky, weeping at the conflict between the two old friends.

“…I…I can’t [Y/N]…just drop it.”

“Fight with me Indra.”

“What?”

“ FIGHT ME!” At your battle cry and in the rain now present, you shortened the distance between you and the Ōtsutsuki, going towards him at full speed. Wielding a kunai in your skillful hand, you decided not to leave him any room for doubt.

Indra was forced to quickly evade your attack by jumping to the nearest tree branch. You mercilessly followed him, initiating your own pursuit of enemies.

“WHAT’S WRONG, INDRA?! STOP SHOWING ME YOUR ASS, I DIDN’T MEAN TO FIND OUT THAT YOU LIKE SUCH THINGS! FIGHT ME YOU COWARD.”

“STOP THIS NOW [Y/N] YOU STUPID IDIOT”

“OH, I TOUCHED A SORE SPOT? WHO IS THE LUCKY MAN INDRA-SAMA! WHEN IS THE WEDDING INDRA-SAMA!”

“I’M GOING TO FUCK YOU UNTIL YOUR LITTLE BRAIN IS FRIED, YOU FUCKING WOMAN.”

There, the moment of distraction that Indra needed to turn the game around. He disappeared in front of your eyes while you were still chasing, to appear behind you and kick your lower back. You flew from the height of the tree you were standing on and landed with your stomach on the wet grass of the forest.

You turned on your back trying to regain your battle stance in order to meet Indra, who was standing over you with each foot at the side of your body. With his ankles, he squeezed the sides of your waist to prevent you from moving from the ground. When you tried to get up, pushing your torso up to hit his legs, or hopefully his groin, your Sensei fell on top of you. Straddling your body to prevent you from escaping, he held your wrists over your head so you couldn’t hit him.

The rain fell violently on your face, and the man lined up his head with yours to keep the water out of your eyes. With an angry grunt at the disadvantageous position you were in, you heard him speak.

“Stop it, right now.”

“NO!”

“[Y/N] IT’S AN ORDER”

His tone had suddenly changed. His intimidating red eyes were stuck inside yours, a frightening sensation you had forgotten. Those orbs have an unknown power, and being so close to them was overwhelming. Something you haven’t experienced since you were a child. In the face of the situation, your courage momentarily abandoned its cause, and pursuing your goal became more complicated under that commanding figure.

“…Indra… talk to me…”

“What do you want me to say…”

“An explanation wouldn’t be bad."

The only noise that filled the silence between the two of you was that of the drops on to nature. The man seemed to be looking for words to start a new sentence, and you decided not to push or play with your luck.

"What do you want me to say [Y/N]… That I had to stay away from you because your presence took me away from my responsibilities? That I cannot have you as my student because I would not bear the thought of seeing you fight for your life in a war? That I cannot look into your eyes because I get lost inside you? Or that having you under me right now, with wet clothes sticking to your body outline, is making it hard for me to think…”

"Ind-dra-a…”

In response to his statement, the Ōtsutsuki leaned over you even more, almost joining his forehead with yours for a few centriments. Breaths brushing against each other, the man slid his hands from your wrists to your ribs, caressing the inside of your arms and the side of your body, as well as the mound of your breasts on the fabric of your clothes.

“Say my name correctly.”

“…Indra-Sama…”

“You know how hard it takes me not to assault your mouth every time you utter those words in public. Repeat it.”

“Indra-Sama…”

His hands went through your stomach, feeling the rain water accumulated on your body. Taking his time, he slowly brushed your breasts, without paying much attention, and placed one hand on your neck, while the other pressed against your cheek.

He exerted a little pressure, while his thumb massaged your lower lip, gently caressing you in an affectionate manner. Poking his finger into your cavity, he commanded:

“Bite [Y/N]"

Without hesitation you obeyed. At the sensation of your teeth, a grunt escaped the man’s lips, and more pressure was deposited in your throat. The gesture did not go unnoticed by your attention, and a hot tickle attacked your belly under Indra’s weight.  With your hands now free, you lifted one, and tangled it in the soaked mane of the Ōtsutsuki above you. You pulled his hair a little, forcing him to lean back slightly.

"Are you trying to play dirty? What a bad apprentice… maybe it’s time for a punishment.”

In a surprise move, he took possession of your body and your movements. He laid you back on your stomach, and opening your legs with his knees, joined your groins. Despite the barrier that existed thanks to the wet clothes you both wore; you could feel something definitely hard in contact with the source of your heat.

With one hand he held your head to the ground and with the other he painfully grabbed your waist. He brought his mouth close to your ear and whispered erotically, while an intimate massage was given to your womanhood with his dressed limb.

"Moan for me [Y/N], I want to hear you.”

Again, you did not hesitate to follow his orders. The moans were trapped in your throat from before thanks to his stimuli in any form. When the sound reached Indra, everything escalated quickly.

This was not the end you had in mind for your ambush of Indra, but you had no reason to oppose the results you had achieved.

[vegalocity]

The Forest (Red Groom AU)

So i was like ‘I should rewatch the Princess Bride again before I jump back into this fic series’. So I re-read my own series as to remember where I was at, rewatched the Princess Bride, and blacked our for a few hours. And when I woke up I found this on my word processor lol

Also catch me messing with everyone ELSE’S dialogue but keeping the Prince’s 100% just Prince Humperdink’s lines so i don’t have to give him a personality (hats off to @starsfic for reminding me of the obvious ‘you don’t have to cast him at all’ thing)

--

The spotty light of the forest faded into the pitch of night as down, down the prince fell. By the time he hit the ground there was only the faintest patch of sunlight shining through the very sinkhole he'd fallen into.

Prince Red Son cursed his luck thrice times over as he took in the dark world around him, the caves surrounding him seemed to be more burrowed into the ground than they were naturally forming, which spelled both good and bad.

“Red Son! Can you hear me?! Are you alright?!” he heard Xiaotian's voice echo from above and the part of him that was still riding the high of his love being alive, and what's more still just as in love with him as he was, swooned at the care in his voice. If they had been safe at the time and Red Son allowed to linger on the feeling, he was sure he would feel much that of a child positively drowning in the ardor of their first love.

As it was he had to repress the feeling as much as he could. Later. When they were safe.

“I'm fine!” His legs felt like liquid beneath him but he was able to keep on his feet. “I think this is a burrow of some kind!”

“A burrow? Like an animal made that thing?! Hold on I'm coming down there-”

“I can climb back up!” The words came out before he really thought about them, driven mostly by pride; the prince had been dealing with being passed around his captors for the better side of two days now, and though he trusted Xiaotian with his life easily, the fact remained that he'd been at a distinct physical disadvantage with his magic restrained as it was.

And he was kind of tired of being helpless.

“Red,” And my, did the shortened version of his name sound intimate when spoken like that “-you could barely stand! You're injured it's okay! I'm coming down and getting you!”

“I'm not a child Xiaotian,” he just needed to figure out how to get back up without injuring himself further. Now, it wasn't a vertical drop, else he would have probably broken something on the descent down “Just allow me a moment to think of something!”

Now, it wasn't vertical but it WAS too steep a drop to easily climb by hand, he'd need something to act as ballast, like a rope of some kind-

“....You said your copy of the Monkey King's staff can grow or shrink, yes?”

“I....did?”

“Can you extend it down here so I can use it as a ballast to climb?”

“Oh! Yeah probably!”

Now he'd probably need something to ensure if he grip slipped he wouldn't fall for too long and injure himself like a fool once again. Now he hadn't had a lot on hand when the Spider Queen and her mercenaries had apprehended him—barely more than the simple travel clothes he'd been wearing—and what else he'd had had been lost in his captors' desperate fleeing from his love, so other than what he had in his pockets his only set of tools was the clothes on his back.

Ah! But he DID have the clothes on his back did he not? He shed the thin overcoat he'd been allowed after the Spider Queen had searched him for weapons and once the golden ended staff entered his sight he looped the body of it around the staff, and tied it off before tying the sleeves around his torso.

“Okay hold it steady!”

“Got it!”

Admittedly it wasn't the easiest climb, his arms still ached from his self inflicted burns, his legs still trembled from the force of the fall, but before too long had passed mottled daylight was around him again and he took Xiaotian's hand as he was pulled back over the ledge.

“Thank you.” Though he'll admit without most of his magic at his disposal he was tiring rather quickly. He held himself together infront of Xiaotian as his lack of firepower was already embarrassing to be caught by someone so important to him with, but being winded by a simple climb was a humiliation he'd like to be spared of.

“Anytime.” Xiaotian huffed a sigh “But if those are burrows down there we should really get out of this forest quick as we can-”

“And head off to your mountain?” the idea of Xiaotian, his humble noodle boy, having an entire mountain of his own to rule over (temporarily? He had no idea if Sun Wukong would want it back by the time his pilgrimage was complete or not) was such a strange concept, he wasn't sure if it had become quite real for him yet.

“Yup!” Ah, that sweet chipper tone, so sorely missed in the five long years they'd been apart and-

Wait...

“...You're going to tell your fathers as well right?”

Xiaotian paused, and he could see him pale a bit from his stance.

“...Oh man I really AM a dead man when they get ahold of me.”

He couldn't help the laugh at the idea, Xiaotian in that full Monkey King transformation sitting in the Inn all crumpled in on himself like a scolded child, with either of his parents just ripping into him.

“...Wow...” Xiaotian sounded breathless and when Red Son looked open him for a moment he was struck by the greatest sense of Déjà vu. That quiet afternoon in the inn when he'd glanced at him out of the corner of his eye and known his heart, But here was that look once more, in this darkened forest so long later.

“What?”

“Nothing I just... forgot how much I loved your laugh.” Xiaotian reached up and rubbed at his neck, a bashful grin making his cheeks turn pink, and Red Son felt his own face grow warm in response. Damn Noodle Boy still knew exactly what to say to make him a mess- “It's honestly so cute. That crazy cackle-”

-Nevermind. He scowled and now it was Xiaotian's turn to laugh.

“No I mean it! I love how wild it is!” He folded his arms and huffed, but didn't stop Xiaotian as he untangled them to link one of Red Son's arms in his own. “You throw your entire self into absolutely everything! It's admirable! And you already know how much I love your passion-” Dammit.

“We should try to find somewhere relatively safe before nightfall hits. Who knows what other dangers there are here.” He sniffed, as primly as he possibly could.

“Whatever they are we can handle it!” Xiaotian chirped in response, almost too optimistic, especially granted he'd JUST been saying that they should leave as fast as possible.  

“I mean whatever made those burrows probably left awhile ago if so much plant matter had built up over them as to cover the air vents like that.” That was true-

“Well, what about the R.O.U.S? Isn't this their migratory region?”

“The Rodents of Unusual Size?” Xiaotian shook his head “I've passed through this forest before, never ran into them, I don't think they're anything but rumor.”

And then they pounced on them.

The Rodents of Unusual Size were pack animals so when they descended on the two of them they did so at least a dozen in number. Their most bold had tackled Xiaotian to the ground and and its size—roughly that of a small wheelbarrow—had sent him grappling with the creature, trying to get it off him and draw his staff at once.

Before the rest of the pack made its move Red Son gave the one on his love a swift kick, sending it yelping and scurrying off to regain its strength. Then the others began to descend on them. Xiaotian had drawn his staff in the respite and gotten back to his feet, but the most Red Son could improvise as a weapon was a nearby branch that had fallen from a tree.

He felt pathetic in comparison to Xiaotian at his back.

He hadn't even gotten out of the damn sinkhole without help. Sure it had been his plan but-

Xiaotian moved not flawlessly, he hadn't been combat trained when he'd left, and he'd only been trained by Sun Wukong for a short while before they'd parted ways, he'd gained his skills on the way instead of having them trained into him, and Red Son had fallen out of weaponry while he'd still been a boy.

One of the rodents lunged for him and he barely swiped the branch quick enough to bat it away. He sensed one nearing his blindspot and turned just a bit to keep it in his sight-

-and felt Xiaotian push him out of the way as another rodent lunged upon his turned back.

The grunt of pain-

The smell of human blood-

Xiaotian was knelt on the ground at his side, struggling with a rodent that had its teeth buried into his shoulder.

It was instinct, not emotion, not intent. The bone deep—soul deep—need to protect all he held dear, the memory of despair, the memory of joy. The words 'True love' spoken so matter of fact and plain. A simple statement of what was real instead of a challenge or declaration.

Seeing and smelling his blood and the very real danger and he'd been protecting him this was his fault he couldn't die like this he couldn't live to make his way back and return to Red Son just to die like this and have it be HIS FAULT-

Fire.

The golden bands on his wrists glowed, then shuddered-

-and then they broke.

And there was fire.

The rodent on Xiaotian was burned and burned and kept burning, the flames encompassing the creature, but never once touching his beloved, and not once daring to burn their master after they'd been forced to disobey him for the length of two days.

The rodent dropped twitching and smoldering and when he looked up, eyes burning and glowing from the power he'd been forced to restrain for far too long, the remaining rodents had scurried off to their holes. Fearful and skittish of the power that had been released.

“Woah...” Xiaotian's voice cut through the roar of the flames still crackling up his arms and it felt so right it hurt that he'd gone any time at all without it as it should be.

Though he still felt a weak ache in his limbs, his fire allowed to spring forth at his command once again was doing quite a lot to quell the pain, and he offered his hand to his love.

“We should leave before they come back.”

Xiaotian took his hand and stared as though he'd never seen him before.

“Is something wrong?”

“I just... I never saw you fight before I guess.” Xiaotian gripped his sluggishly bleeding shoulder. Red Son removed his thin coat again to try and treat the wound, though it was a bit challenging as they continued their trek.

Soon enough the forest was beginning to thin, and the dim light of dusk made strange shadows pass across the world. They were nearing Flower Fruit Mountain if Xiaotian's estimate was anything to go by, and hopefully that would mean they were soon to be safe-

But then came the sound of horses.

“Pull your sleeves down.” Xiaotian whispered urgently. “If thats your fiance make him think you still don't have your fire.”

Red Son cursed the fact that he hadn't thought of that first. Nonetheless he did as directed, and let Xiaotian pull him protectively behind him.

And there were horses, and warriors, and a macaque with fur black as pitch, and leading the caravan was his fiance.

“Surrender.” The prince demanded the second they got near.

“Oh, you wish to surrender to me?” Dammit Xiaotian. “Very well, I accept.”

His fiance looked vaguely amused, but only vaguely. “I give you full marks for bravery, but don't make yourself a fool.”

He'd never known the man before now, this being Red Son's first time gazing upon the prince his parents had decided to be his betrothed, and the prince's eyes on him as well.

Red Son wasn't the best at parsing out emotions, but he knew the prince had hired the Spider Queen to kill him, so he knew the thing that looked like desire in the prince's eye was nothing but bloodlust. He wanted not him, but his parents' army, and he was willing to slaughter anyone who stood between him and that goal.

“Ah, but we know the secrets of the forest! We could live there comfortably for days without you and yours finding us!” Red Son could see the blood starting to seep back out of Xiaotian's shoulder as he drew his staff again. “So if you wish for a death at the hands of the R.O.U.S packs, please be my guest and feel free to visit!”

“I tell you once again, surrender!” his betrothed stressed, and Red Son saw movement from the corner of his eye. Xiaotian couldn't turn his head from the prince, but he could see the prince had brought archers with him. Many archers. Archers whom had peeled away from the caravan before their approach.

Xiaotian was not immortal. Or maybe the Monkey King had taught him to be in the first way he had learned to be immortal for his aging to cease, but if he was he wasn't invulnerable.

“That won't be happening.” He could make a ring of fire around the both of them and spread it out to destroy any arrows that came into their path and then expand it forward to knock back their foes, But then they'd have only a small opening, and their only option would be to retreat back into the forest and hope to loose his fiance, maybe in the burrows of that large unknown creature? But that risked Xiaotian being wrong about it being some time since said creature had been there and risk the wrath of a huge underground creature likely out for blood at two tiny by comparison beings invading its home.

“For the final time, surrender!” the prince barked and with a flourish drew his sword from its sheath. The black furred macaque at his side drew a staff from his person,  spiked at either end, and shot them both a wicked grin, but it was Red Son's eye he held.

The macaque took one hand away from his weapon to reach beneath his shirt, and what he pulled out made Red Son's only plan null. A fire resistance spell scribbled on a small block of wood, and another pair of those damned golden cuffs. He'd be restrained again in an instant if he couldn't even injure anyone and he'd be just as helpless as before, but this time at a heavy disadvantage with his love injured, it would only be hours before they caught up with them, if even that.

“Death first!” Xiaotian cried, holding up the staff and ready to charge-

“You have to swear you won't hurt him!” The words ripped from his lungs before he had a chance to truly consider them.

“What did you say?” The prince broke his gaze with his love and raised a brow at him.

“Red Son...?” Xiaotian's voice was so quiet, so confused...But that didn't matter. If it saved his life then he refused to regret it.

“....I'll go with you. We'll surrender and I'll let you take me back to your mountain, but you must swear you won't hurt this man.”

He'd been useless ever since he'd been kidnapped by those damned mercenaries, he'd relied on Xiaotian to survive the forest—whom had needed to get hurt before he could even gain a fighting chance at being his equal again—and now he couldn't get them out of his fiance's clutches together.

If he went back with the prince he'd be killed and his death blamed on whoever the Prince wished to destroy with his parent's army but-

-but he knew his limits.

“I swear it on all I hold dear.” His fiance responded.

“He has his own mountain to return to, you must let him return in peace.”

“It will be done.” his betrothed agreed, he turned to the macaque and murmured something to him, but all he could hope for is that this prince wasn't an oathbreaker-

-not like he'd turned out to be.

Xiaotian was staring at him, his wide dark eyes hurt and uncomprehending and it was so unfair that this was how it had to end. That he'd only had him back for such a short time before he had to choose to give him up.

But...

“When I thought you dead it nearly destroyed me.” he forced his voice to remain firm, no matter how much his heart hurt at what must be done. “I cannot survive that a second time.” and he knew he couldn't.

But he was a selfish demon after all, because despite his actions, and his willingness to give himself over to his betrothed, Red Son still desired one last fleeting moment with his love.

The kiss was soft, Xiaotian's calloused hands gripped loosely in his own and he prayed he would remember the feeling and never forget his warmth. Whether he was killed by his betrothed, fought back long enough to be kept alive and announced dead and forever kept in a basement somewhere, or yet worse live a long healthy life beside a demon king he didn't love, and never able to see Xiaotian again.

“If this is all I can do for you, then please, let me save you.” his voice was barely over a whisper, any louder and his voice would crack and wobble with emotion.

“...As you wish.”

And then there was a hand on his shoulder that was not Xiaotian's. It was cold and slick, like the scales of a reptile.

And so, leaving the keeper of his heart behind, Red Son pulled away from Xiaotian, and got on the horse offered to him.

And if there was a thin yet steady plume of steam trailing behind his steed, well... nobody bothered to say anything.

–

And Xiaotian was left standing alone as the keeper of his heart turned himself in to what was no doubt his own execution.

His sluggishly bleeding shoulder gave a thin throb of pain as a few of the prince's caravan followed Red Son and that wretched prince, but staying behind were a majority of the archers and the black furred macaque.

“Well, guess we should be getting you back to your mountain then.” The Macaque drawled, leaned back casually on his own horse and hiding his staff only now. His strangely shaped ears twitched as Xiaotian took a step forward. Wait- Not strangely shaped, there were three of them. Three on either side.

“We're men of action. Lies don't suit us.” He'd responded simply, and the Six eared macaque grinned that wolfish grin at him again. And sure enough he felt a few groping hands as a couple brave archers grabbed him and bound his hands behind his back.

“Love that staff by the way. Looks quite a lot like one an old friend of mine used to wield. But like, a crappily made cheap replica of it.” The Macaque hummed and took the staff from the ground after he'd been forced to drop it. “Way lighter too. Don't even need to have stolen anybody's powers for it!” After a beat the Macaque met his gaze, and he must have been making a bit of a face because he suddenly looked off his game. “What?”

“Six-Eared Macaque was it? I know someone who's been looking for you.” The swordsman flashed in his mind, the scar on her shoulder, the fierce determination in her eyes, that masterful, artistic swordplay. She'd had every moment of her confrontation with this macaque planned out for a decade, right down to what she would say to him.

He hoped she found out where he was and got her revenge from it. She deserved to, she seemed like the kind of person Xiaotian would have gotten along with swimmingly if they'd known eachother under better terms.

The Macaque growled and swiped out with his staff, knocking him on the side of his head.

And as his vision swam, as the world grew dark, he heard the macaque growl:

“Take him to the pit of despair, Looks like we've got a new test subject.”

He missed Red Son.

[oss-crime]

Chapter 5-Escape of the Witch Salmhofer; Scene 6

Original Sin Story: Crime, pages 194-199

Once she was moved to a room, Meta wondered if the day had finally come where they would kill her.

The room was without decoration, just like the cell she’d been in up to this point.

Its sole difference was that there was a wooden chair in the center of it. The feet of the chair were bolted to the ground, and it had several leather straps attached to it.

She’d heard some rumors.

That this sort of thing was an execution chair.

An execution device where electricity would flow through it, killing the person sitting there.

Meta recalled Raisa’s ugly features.

…Maybe those burn scars had been from being struck by lightning.

Well, this probably wouldn’t be enough to make her look like that. She had no lingering regrets, nor was she afraid of death, but she did want to leave behind a pretty body when she died, if possible.

That aside…

How odd to have something like this in a temple meant to venerate the gods.

Though, I guess it’s not that strange. This is a temple Yegor runs, after all.

He would probably say something like, “This lightning strike is judgment from the gods!”

“—Sit,” ordered the executioner, someone with their face entirely covered by a hood.

…It was a man’s voice.

There was no one else in the room outside of him and Meta.

“…”

As Meta obediently sat down, she started hatching a plan.

…This room doesn’t look like it was made with any of that magic-sealing artifact.

She could try controlling the executioner with her bewitching ability, or else—

“If you’re thinking about trying to put up some kind of pointless resistance, you’d better think again,” the executioner said to Meta as he released her manacles. “The powers of an ‘Inheritor of Gilles’ don’t work on me.”

Meta’s brow lifted.

“…You. You’re not just a simple executioner.”

Now that she thought about it, she did feel that his voice was somehow familiar to her.

It resembled someone that Meta knew quite well—

“It can’t be…Darling? Is that you!?”

The executioner lifted his hood.

--And underneath was, quite clearly, the face of Meta’s beloved Pale.

For a moment, her eyes light up…

But then her expression quickly regained its composure.

“…No. You’re not Pale.”

The man who looked like Pale grinned when he heard that.

“Hey now. You figured it out pretty quickly. I’d been hoping to poke fun at you by pretending to be Pale for a little bit.”

“What kind of game is this? –Seth.”

“It’s been a long time, Meta. Last we met was I think when you tried to kill me at Merrigod Plateau?”

“You here to get payback for that now? Didn’t think you were the type to hold a grudge.”

But Seth slowly shook his head.

“Hardly. I wouldn’t be holding a grudge against you. It wasn’t something you chose to do on your own, after all—It was Pale’s orders, wasn’t it?”

“Nope. I was just trying to do something nice for him, knowing that he was starting to shun you.”

“Well, whatever the case, the fact remains that Pale had been starting to rebel against me, his ‘brother’.”

“Yes, and you too—have become our enemy.”

Seth once more shook his head.

“You’re wrong. I’m not your ally, but I’m not your enemy either—Rather, I came here to help you.”

“…? What do you mean?”

“It would be too difficult to avert your execution at this stage. Gammon’s ordered the complete extermination of Apocalypse. So…I have no choice but to put you to death, for now.”

“…So you really do want to kill me.”

“Let me finish. It’s impossible to get you out of here alive. But—that’s not necessarily true of a corpse. All criminal corpses are slated to be temporarily taken to a mortuary on the outskirts.”

“…And then you’ll revive me at that mortuary and I’ll roam the graveyard as a zombie.”

Meta had said that in an attempt to be joking, but Seth nodded seriously at her comment.

“I’m glad you’re so understanding.”

“Wait a second…Are you kidding me? I’m really going to turn into a zombie—"

“Ha ha, alright, alright. I’ll explain it properly.”

Seth finally began to tell Meta about the plan he was thinking of from the beginning.

.

--After she was done listening, Meta nodded in understanding.

“I see…But will it really work?”

“On that, you’ll just have to trust me. At any rate, once you have safely escaped from here, you’ll then need to head straight to my research institute and participate in my experiment—that is your condition for my help.”

“…Got it.”

Meta quietly nodded.

“Put this around your neck.” Seth handed Meta a pendant with a heart charm attached. “The decorative piece is designed to open up. Inside is a map that records the route to get to the research institute.”

“You’re well prepared.” Meta put on the pendant as instructed.

“That’s because my own position will be at risk if you screw up—Well, shall we begin?”

Seth began to fasten the execution chair’s straps to Meta’s arms and legs.

She made no move to resist, simply watching him.

“Phew…Hey…Is this gonna hurt a lot?”

“Maybe? I’ve never been executed before, so I wouldn’t know.”

“Obviously.”

Meta’s abdomen and forehead were strapped to the chair.

“All ready…Now then.” Seth pulled away from the execution chair, and put his hand on the switch affixed to the wall to start up the device.

“…”

Meta swallowed.

“Now then—Have a nice trip, Meta Salmhofer!”

Seth threw the switch.

“--!”

Electricity struck Meta’s body—

And she immediately lost consciousness.

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[themurphyzone]

PatB/BatB AU: If I Can’t Love Him Ch 1

Summary: Sequel to Imprisoned and part of the PatB BatB AU.

The Beast knows he’s too far gone, in too deep to ever have hope of regaining what he lost. But one action leads to another, and through a series of mistakes, discovers he may have been wrong about so many things.

Pinky is running for his life. He knows he made a promise, and he finds the servants charming, but he can’t stay. The castle was not and will never be his home. But things aren’t always as they appear.

AN: OK ok technically the disastrous dinner request does happen first (as of posting this first chapter, the dinner request scene has not been written yet but I do hope to get around to it), but I just wanna write the West Wing and its aftermath ok lemme have my angst.

This will be a 4 chapter story, each chapter named for a lyric from If I Can’t Love Her from the BatB Broadway musical. It’s a really heartwrenching song and every time I hear it I just wanna hug poor Beast.

AO3 Link

Ch 1: Careless and Unthinking

The Beast heard music drifting from the large dining room, traveling along the wind until it reached his usual haunt on the castle roof just above the West Wing.

Though he was too far to properly hear the lyrics, he recognized that irritatingly catchy melody to Be a Pest, a song the Warner siblings performed on a semi-regular basis ever since the curse upended their lives.

He should’ve known the Warners wouldn’t leave the prisoner alone in his room to starve.

The Beast huffed, a misty cloud forming in the frigid air.

He wasn’t sure why he said that when he didn’t actually want the prisoner to starve. It was counterproductive to breaking the curse.

And that mouse was far too foolish to suit his purposes. Arguing every order, determined to defy him at every turn, uncaring of self-preservation when he skipped into the castle and announced his presence without the slightest attempt at stealth.

Not that anyone else bothered to heed his orders, despite his higher station, but it was especially irritating from someone who was supposed to be a prisoner.

Surely all his hopes of regaining his rightful position weren’t dependent on an idiot whose head was permanently up in the clouds!

Rage mounted in the depths of his deformed body, and though he tried to hold back, he couldn’t stop the primal roar that worked its way past his throat.

It echoed off the trees, a flock of faraway birds taking to the air to get away from a perceived predator.

He struck the roof with one clawed, oversized hand. Several loose tiles spiraled into the abyss below.

The rush of adrenaline was overwhelming. It felt good to be so powerful. His old body was woefully lacking in strength and height.

He’d never been able to climb onto the roof before. A mouse was far too small and fragile to ever attempt something so death-defying.

Nor was he able to tear furniture apart so easily. But now he could.

Give in, a voice whispered, sweet and tempting and malicious all at once. Why resist your anger? Give in now, and you won’t be hurt ever again. I promise.

Anger was the only emotion worth feeling. It was blissful to not experience anything other than splintered wood and torn cloth under his claws. No worries, doubts, or fears to hold him back. When his thoughts became nothing but a simplistic chant of destroy, destroy, destroy.

Then all coherent thought would cease, and only instincts were left.

But anger was a fickle companion. It would encourage him, drive him forward, yet it would suddenly flee. It didn’t stay with him in the wake of his destruction.

And the guilt came.

His shortsightedness robbed everyone of a comfortable life. Nobody was spared. Not the innocent toddler, not the orphans or stray animals seeking a safe haven, nor the regular household staff.

On that first long, horrible night, he’d promised to break the curse. They’d be back to normal before they knew it, and they’d only remember it as one odd, terrifying nightmare.

But his plan didn’t work. And he made that promise again. Then his next plan failed before he set it into motion.

Tomorrow night. I’ll break it tomorrow night for sure.

For the past five years, he made that same promise every night.

But the curse wasn’t broken. The nightmare wasn’t complete.

Every plan failed. He tried everything.

That is, he tried everything except for the condition laid out from the very beginning.

The beautiful witch’s voice haunted him, mocking him through every waking hour and dream, taunting him with fate-sealing roses and mirrors that reflected the monster he was.

“If you can find somebody to love, and earn their love in return, my enchantment upon your castle shall be lifted. Fail in your quest, and you shall remain a beast for all time.”

The condition was an open secret in the castle, though only the Warners dared to bring up the topic within his vicinity.

He laughed, but it was a harsh, guttural laugh, completely devoid of joy.

Love? How could he possibly love anyone?

Love only brought pain.

As a foolish child, he loved his parents.

Then they abandoned him in favor of the lavish court. His existence was a scandal unto itself, and he was secreted away to a province with little royal oversight.

He let out an ugly snarl, cruel fangs digging into his upper lip.

The harsh, unnatural sound only served as a reminder that nobody would ever love him back. His mind, which once held ideas on how to reclaim his throne and improve life in this neglected province, was now dull and dimming further by the day.

He couldn’t read or invent anymore. His hands were too large for the delicate machinery, his claws ripping apart everything he touched. He barely remembered how to stand on two legs, and the few times he tried, he quickly lost his balance and had no choice but to stalk the hallways on all fours, stripped of all dignity.

Intelligence was all he had. And even that would be gone soon.

Nobody wanted a dumb, slavering, mud-colored beast for a lover.

A chilly wind blew snow into his fur, startling him out of his ponderings. The night had quickly grown dark and cold, the land below shrouded in an early winter. The moon and stars were hidden by thick, low clouds.

He didn’t hear any music. The prisoner had likely eaten his fill by now.

The silence unnerved him.

It was quiet on the rooftop, but without the background noise of the servants working or screaming from the unfortunate souls who were assigned Warner or Mindy duty, it was far too quiet for comfort.

When it was silent, the most unwelcome thoughts nagged at his deteriorating mind.

He sighed, regretting his decision to ponder on the roof this long. But then, it seemed his entire life was just one bad decision after another, so he was hardly bothered.  

Stretching his sore limbs, he carefully gripped the slippery tiles as he descended down to the West Wing balcony. The wind whipped at his cape, and his exposed fur stood on end to keep his body warm.

This body was more resistant to the cold, able to endure conditions any weak, normal mouse would hide themselves from.

He was powerful.

But that thought quickly came to an end.

He lost his grip on a handhold, sliding several inches on the slippery stone.

The brief scare made whatever remained of his shriveled heart leap in fear, and he was reminded that regardless of physical prowess, he was still mortal.

On some nights, being mortal was a good thing.

He took hold of a thick, tangled growth of ivy that crept up the stone walls over the years, so thick that even his sharp claws couldn’t cut through it. The servants had valiantly battled the plants over the years, but there was only so much they could do.

The castle would crumble once the curse took hold permanently and become nothing more than a relic lost to time.

He crept down the ivy to the West Wing balcony, allowing the mysterious, cruel light of the enchanted rose to guide him to safety in the darkness.

Brooding over a rose and making doomed plans in the vain hope of breaking this curse.

That’s all he was good for these days.

Just as he set foot on the balcony, his ears perked at the sound of footsteps within his chambers. He growled quietly to himself.

He wasn’t in the mood to deal with the Warners’ antics tonight. Not when their advice proved little use against the prisoner’s stubborn refusal to have dinner with him.

But the footsteps sounded…different. Lighter.

Not brassy like Yakko’s, wooden like Wakko’s, or clinking like Dot’s.

The Beast inhaled sharply.

No.

It couldn’t be.

His prisoner was an idiot, but surely he wouldn’t break the only rule he’d been given. He should’ve been thanking the Beast for his leniency with the guidelines to follow for his stay within the castle property.

Don’t go into the West Wing.

But the mouse was right before his eyes, still on the far side of the room, twirling around in awe at the torn draperies, splintered wood, and haphazard bedding.

“Narf. This room could use a good sweep. I’ve seen pigsties cleaner than this!” the mouse tsked, shaking his head at the sorry state of the West Wing.

Really? The Beast wanted to scream. That’s your main concern right now?

Never mind that the West Wing was a grim testament to just how far he’d fallen, the shadowed lair of a beast, the broken décor scattered and abused throughout the years because it felt so good to lash out at something without guilt, and his prisoner commented on the mess of all things?

His claws brushed against a shard from a broken vase, and he sullenly flicked it aside. The ceramic remains skittered across the balcony.

Alright, so maybe the West Wing was a little messy…

An odd sense of embarrassment washed over him.

He crouched behind a thick tangle of ivy, feeling very much like a predator lying in wait for unsuspecting prey. Perhaps he wouldn’t have to do anything, and the mouse would just leave on his own.

The mouse picked his way through the West Wing, stopping to gawk at a shredded mattress and pile of ragged blankets that served as the Beast’s bed. He plucked at a strip of fabric that had fallen on the floor, and the Beast growled lowly. His sleeping area wasn’t a spectacle.

It was simply where he woke up from a nightmare, only to find that he never truly left.  

The mouse gasped, his ears twitching. For a fleeting moment, the Beast believed he’d successfully chased him out of the West Wing. But the mouse turned to a portrait in a golden frame, one that had been painted so long ago, in a faraway life.

He’d dragged his claws across that painting many times, when he could no longer take the image of himself as a prince, mocking him with his dead-eyed stare and prestige.

Reminding him of what he used to be.

Though he wanted nothing more than to be rid of it permanently, some part of him couldn’t bear to throw it away. He didn’t know why.

He was tempted to spring out of his hiding place and tell the mouse to get out right now, but the gentle, almost reverent way the mouse pulled the hanging scraps of the portrait up to what remained in the frame made him hesitate.

In the entryway of the balcony, the rose sparked within the bell jar, its ethereal glow blinding for just a moment before it settled once again.

His hesitation cost him.

Slowly, the mouse approached the enchanted rose. The glow was always mesmerizing, always the only beautiful thing in an otherwise dark and ugly room.

Sometimes he fantasized about shredding the rose to pieces and scattering the petals to the wind, so that he wouldn’t ever have to look at it anymore.

But he wasn’t the only one affected by the curse, though he was the one who bore the brunt of it. Too often, he’d come close to forgetting that.

The rose floated just above a small, elevated platform. Five petals had fallen so far, lifeless and dead. More would join them soon enough. The pink glow illuminated the mouse’s unusual blue eyes, which were already lit up in idiotic wonder and curiosity.

With a surprising amount of strength for a mouse so slim, the prisoner carefully lifted the bell jar and set it aside.

The sheer stupidity of that action stunned the Beast.

Then the mouse reached out, fingers outstretched, just a few inches away from-

THAT FOOL WAS GOING TO DAMN THEM ALL!

All-consuming fear and fury seized hold of the Beast’s mind, his vision filled with red haze as he sprung out from behind the ivy thicket.

Protect the rose. Protect the rose at any cost.  

The Beast snarled, ignoring his prisoner’s startled gasp. The mouse tripped over his own feet as the Beast snatched up the bell jar and slammed it over the rose.

For a moment, he feared he was too rough with the precious items. Though no petals fell, he wouldn’t allow himself any relief.

Not until the intruder was dealt with.

He gripped the bell jar tightly, slowly turning to face the mouse who thought he could just barge into the West Wing without any consequences whatsoever.

“What are you doing here?” the Beast growled, blocking the rose from the mouse’s view.

The mouse held his hands in front of his face. “I…I’m sorry!” he stammered.

Did he truly believe a simple placation would work? That he broke the one rule, a rather generous rule, just to satisfy his own curiosity?

“I warned you NEVER to come here!” he snarled, caring nothing for the apology.

The mouse stumbled over the corner of a ceramic vase which had oddly survived the carnage the Beast had wrought over the years. His eyes were wide, his ears limp. He squeaked something in protest, pitifully trying to justify his poor reasoning.

“DO YOU REALIZE WHAT YOU COULD’VE DONE?”

A roar tore out of his throat. He was dimly aware of a terrified scream, his large paws smashing a vase into jagged shards, and all he knew was the pleasure of unleashing his wrath upon anything that couldn’t fight back.

He only saw red.  

“GET OUT!”

A pile of broken wood flew past the mouse’s head. He let out a ragged cry and fled the West Wing. His piercing scream echoed in the Beast’s ears, banishing the red, vengeful haze that overtook his mind.

Broken furniture surrounded him.  

Downstairs, the servants pleaded in vain for the mouse to stay. A cold wind blew through the castle, icy enough to pierce through his defenses.

The Beast turned to the rose, just in time for the sixth petal to fall.

It had a wicked sense of humor.

The enchanted mirror reflected cruel, sharp fangs as he panted for breath. The portrait’s gaze bore into him, dead-eyed and mocking and judgmental.  

And the twisted black horns which adorned his head were heavier than before.  

AN: I’m sorry mice, I love you, I swear…

No I did not start the BatB AU as an excuse to torture Brain as much as I already do. It’s kinda sad that many character traits of Disney’s Beast and Brain overlap. Short temper, arrogant, a goal they want very very badly but their own vices prevent them from ever obtaining it, brooding, someone they love so much they’ll do anything for, even give up their own desires, but they don’t believe they can be loved back…yeah. 

I tried to do the West Wing justice cause it’s such a great scene in the movie, but I don’t think it translates well to a text based medium. Oh well, you can just listen to the soundtrack, but I think I did well enough with it.