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ziracona · 10 months

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As promised! The finale of Act I for The Kid. : ) For the Tumblr readers, as always, a day or two early. [Fate/GO AU – The Kid (pt: 1, … 15, 16, 17, 18, 19, 20, 21, 22, 23, ?)] {Some spoilers for original Grand Order run/through Temple of Time}

Mmmph…uhg. Head…hurts. chest…hurts… I…

Slowly, I blink, open my eyes. Where…am I? I…

There was a room, for a long time, and then another, big, empty room. With a sword. And I can’t remember why. I’m so confused. I can’t remember when I am, or why, or…M-my neck! I—

I feel a panic in my chest, and try to swallow on reflex, which should hurt, but amazingly it doesn’t.

It’s…bright here. The rooms should be dark. And I was dreaming, I think. But I shouldn’t dream…? Why shouldn’t I dream? Right. I-I’m dead. But there were memories? O-of a fight, and a girl, and a boy, and I…had…

“Oh! He is up again!”

I’ve heard the voice, but I don’t know it.

I guess I’m not alone in here. Then I’m not in the big, empty room? I’m…

I try harder to focus my vision, and clear my head. It’s so much harder than it usually is. I feel like I’m going to vanish.

“Hey! Hey—Kotarou?”

Louder, clearer. That’s my name. And I know that voice a little. It’s…the…girl? I turn my head towards the voice on my left, and there are two blurry human shapes. A man, with green hair, and a girl with red hair, like mine.

HUH!? Wait. Th—but--then—it wasn’t a dream? I—

Memories come back quickly with the visual prompt, and my mind feels a little clearer. I keep blinking, fighting to be awake now for real, and my vision sharpens. It really is her. That happened after all? Really? …And…I’m still alive?

“How are you feeling?” asks my new lord, leaning in closer, troubled, “We tried what we could, to get you more mana! I was really worried, but the doctor said you’d be alright. Just needed a little time to recover.”

“Yes,” adds the man with green hair behind her, very apologetically. He was called…I…I heard his name. …David? “I am very sorry. I ah, I wasn’t entirely familiar with your history, and when we were banishing demons, I didn’t realize I should be controlling the area of effect on my banishment. I seem to have sort of knocked the wind pretty hard out of you. If I’d realized you were half oni, I’d have been much carefuler about that. I really didn’t know. Are you feeling alright now?”

“Oh…” I say slowly as my brain makes sense of that. So that’s what happened. I guess that makes a certain…sense. “Y…Yes,” I manage as I figure it out, “I think I’m alright now.”

“Good. I’m amazed by the recovery time, actually,” comes a cheerful, friendly voice I think I’ve heard before too, recently, but a man with peach hair I’ve never seen before moves into my field of view and stoops to place a palm against my forehead. My brain wants to jerk back from a strange human touching me, after the last month of memories, but I’m too exhausted and slowed to do anything but stare with eyes that aren’t seeing quite right yet. “You must have already been run ragged from the trap they’d been keeping you in, and immediately deploying a noble phantasm, then taking a banishment spell back-to-back, that’s some spirit origin you’ve got there. I suppose assassins need some hard survivability to fall back on now and again, but even so.”

He smiles at me. I usually view people with some wariness, because it’s only safe, and I feel even more strongly that way now, but this man has somehow got one of the most open and dependable faces I’ve ever seen. He must be…the doctor. That’s where I heard his voice, over the coms.

I guess it makes sense someone like that would be a doctor. And…that…i-it means he’s definitely on our side, then. Right?

“Again, terribly sorry,” says David with an apologetic little smile.

I try to focus back on him, and give a halting nod. My head is still struggling hard to catch up with reality. I seem to be having a hard time with that, since the trap. “…Did…it work?” I ask, turning to Ritsuka as I remember things that happened before, “Your plan?”

“Yes,” she says with a smile, “We did it!”

Oh good, I think with great relief. The idea of those people still being out there does not sit very easy with me, after the last weeks of my life. Months? I really have no idea anymore, I guess. Still. It’s…over. Wow.

Over. …Really…o-over.

“Thank you,” I say, looking up as the thoughts come full circle, “You saved me.”

She nods, and smiles. “You’re welcome. I’m just glad you’re okay.”

“He up an’ alright?” comes a voice I recognize more quickly as the cowboy’s, and I turn my head and see him. Actually, I take in the room for the first time too.

It’s…a hotel room, I think. A little couch and lounge area on my left, and a chair pulled close to the bed, that David’s sitting in. There’s another chair on my right, and a little dresser thing opposite me, then a hall far on my right, with the smell of food coming from it. I see a lot of the ones from earlier—the Caster and whatever was with him, over in the sitting area, but not next to each other. The green-clad archer with a hood is sitting in the chair on the right side of the bed—looks like he was reading something. The cowboy’s come from the little hallway. I don’t see the red archer and the lancer, though.

“Yes, hi,” I respond a little stuntedly as the cowboy walks over, and I remember he was speaking to me.

“Glad you’re feelin’ better!” replies the cowboy enthusiastically, clapping me on the shoulder like we’re old friends, “Had us worried there for a second! But hey—” He adds, turning towards Ritsuka for a moment, “We did it, right? That’s everyone now.”

She nods, smiling.

“Mission accomplished,” says Billy the Kid proudly, spinning his gun out of its holster and back in for show.

“Well, assuming things go well with Emiya and Cu Chulainn,” says David with interest, “Then, what does that mean for the rest of us?”

The doctor gives him a slightly nervous glance, and then looks back at Ritsuka.

“For…? You mean, after? Oh. Well…” She thinks a second. “…I dunno, I guess,” she decides, flushing a little when she looks around the room and meets eyes, which have all stopped whatever else they were doing to focus on her. “I uh. Wasn’t sure I’d get this far, so I didn’t plan far enough ahead. S-Sorry. I really didn’t uh… Well, I-I guess I thought I’d figure it out when I got there—Oh!” she adds, looking at the doctor, “Uhm. Doctor Archaman wants a chance to talk to us all about something important, though, so, that, I guess!”

The Doctor looks immensely relieved, happy even.

Huh. I wonder what this is all about? Actually…I—I don’t even really know what she’s talking about.

“And uh, after…” she says, almost to herself, and trails off, thinking.

“I-I’m sorry,” I pipe up slowly, struggling to at least prop myself up in the bed a little, and making it up against the baseboard, “Uhm. …I’m not sure I understand…what’s going on.”

The others glance at me.

“I uhm. …You said you freed me without…wanting anything in return,” I say slowly. I was going to say something else after, like ‘but you really wanted nothing else after? Even now? …What does that mean?’ but, it feels too strange to say. What does that mean, if it’s true? Do we just…get un-summoned? Have the contracts ended, and hang around until our mana is up? I’m…I feel very lost right now. …I guess I also might not be completely conscious. So, maybe I should keep my…mouth shut…

“Yeah,” agrees Ritsuka, “Sorry. I should have had a better plan than this-“

“—Hey I think ya did real well,” interjects Billy with great certainty.

“You did,” says Doctor Archaman, mind completely occupied somewhere else pretty obviously, but apparently clocked in enough to comment.

“Well. I guess we do whatever you want,” she decides, glancing at me, then the others, “I mean. I told Doctor Archaman we’d hear him out. But aside from that…” She looks back at me. “What do you want to do?”

“…W…W-what do I want to do?” I ask, very confused.

“Yeah,” she says, then glances around at the others, “I mean. You don’t have to stay, if you don’t want. But. It’s not hurting me to keep you summoned either. You could…I don’t know. Go to a theme park?”

“Huh?” says Robin, clocking in to this conversation for the first time.

“Yeah, or. I don’t know,” she says, thinking very hard, “I bet you don’t get to go sightseeing much or anything. But you could. What do you do for fun?”

For FUN?

I look at the cowboy for help, because I don’t know what to do, and he’s the only one I’ve talked to. He looks back, but the look on his own face is indescribable. It’s not a bad look, but it’s like all activity behind his eyes has short-circuited for a second.

“We don’t,” says the person whose class I don’t know, over by the Caster at the far side of the room. His voice is confused, wary almost.

The Caster on the other hand looks positively giddy. “Well I do! When I can, which isn’t usual, but hey! We don’t –what is the saying—look a gifted horse in the mouth? Let’s go do something fun! Yes! Excellent! Come on, Salieri!” He grabs the one whose class I can’t guess—Salieri?—by the shoulder excitedly, but the other man is staring so blankly at nothing he doesn’t even seem to notice.

Ritsuka looks relieved and pleased by the Caster’s response. Slightly more worried by the look on Salieri’s face as he finally registers the contact from the Caster.

I’m so confused, I think desperately.

“For…how long,” says Billy in a very strange, almost cautious voice, still looking a little like his brain has stopped.

“Uhm,” says Ritsuka, glancing at him and the rest of us, then back to him, “Well, however long you want? —I-I wouldn’t try to make you stay around, if you don’t want! I-If that’s what you’re worried about or something! But.”

“I’m sorry,” says Robin slowly, setting his book in his lap, “Are you offering to…set us up with indefinite…vacation leave?”

“Uhm. I guess sort of,” says Ritsuka uncertainly, thinking, “I mean, I did tell you Doctor Archaman has something important I promised we’d talk about, and I think he needs help with a serious problem. But. That can’t take forever, and if you all want to stay after, I uh, don’t see why you couldn’t.”

The spirits in the room all trade absolutely befuddled glances, except the Caster, who looks like he’s having the best day of his life. And I guess David, who just has a completely unreadable expression behind the unwavering smile on his face. This is the most confused I think I’ve ever felt.

“…This doesn’t happen,” I say just sort of automatically. I think I…I must be waiting to wake up still. I haven’t yet, right? This can’t be…a real thing happening to me…? Can...it…?

“Yeah,” says Ritsuka sadly, not understanding that at all, “I’m sorry most mages are so terrible to you.”

“No, I-…”

But what can I possibly say.

I try looking at the cowboy again, but he gives me a completely lost shrug, and then a worried little smile, and turns to look at Ritsuka himself.

“I-I appreciate the offer. Uh. We don’t…know how to respond, because no one’s ever said anything like that to any of us before, and we don’t have any kinda frame of reference to process it with, so we’re all gonna take just a second to kinda run it through,” he offers awkwardly, “I uh. I don’t know if that could even work. I guess you do got your big mana pool, so maybe you could do it,” he adds slowly, “But it’d be dangerous…Mages would be bound ta notice eventually—probably pretty soon. Target someone with—”

“—But with eight heroic spirits watching out for her, how much trouble could she possibly get in?” says the Caster with great enthusiasm, almost ecstatic at this idea.

Okay, this can’t really be happening, right? This is a dream. Surely, this must be a dream. I have gone completely insane from having my head half severed for so many weeks, and I’m hallucinating now to comfort myself. Right? That almost makes sense.

Yeah. I think that’s the only thing that could make sense.

Nobody would be kind to me. Not like this, anyway. People didn’t even treat me this way when I was alive.

“Well,” says David with a wave of his hand, “We are all jumping the gun a little bit. We have to make sure that things went well with the other two, and the last of Ur-Shanabi’s leadership. Make sure her parents stay safe,” he adds to Ritsuka with a reassuring smile.

Huh?

“-And there’s whatever the Doctor here has going on,” He continues with a nod at him, “But why not simply take things a little at a time, no? I mean, we really should stay a while, to be certain Ur-Shanabi does not re-form and begin doing what they did to all of us again, yes? So, it makes sense to stay a while.”

“My uh,” adds the Doctor hastily, and looking a little bit sorry, “my thing is uhm. It’s pretty serious, and…dangerous…” He looks very far away a second, then glances back up, and that sincere, just a little sad smile is there again. “But uhm. I think David’s right. Whatever else happens, take it a day at a time for now. We’ve all run ourselves ragged, the last…what’s it been?” He glances at Billy. “Forty-eight or so hours? And most of you have been through hell for weeks, or, even months. You all deserve a break. It…would be nice, to do something fun. Live a little. Heroic spirits…really never get to.” He looks both very sincere, and happy for us, and somewhere behind that, deeply, irrevocably sad, when he says it. I think…something very bad must have happened to this man, and even as not quite there as I think I must still be, I feel bad for him, seeing it.

David is looking at him, and I see almost the same sadness reflected in his eyes for a second, which surprises me, because it’s the first time I’ve had any guess what David’s thinking at all. But he smiles that same bright smile, like a shield, and the sadness is hidden again behind it. “Yes. Exactly. And you’ll come with us too! We’ll celebrate,” he adds, grinning at Ritsuka, “Something nice, for all of us! A victory party!”

“Yeah, okay,” she says enthusiastically, “That sounds great to me! Once Emiya and Cu Chulainn are back, we can ask everybody what they want to do, and figure something out—”

“—And between now and then, everyone can get some rest,” says David with great finality, still beaming.

“Get off of me, or I’m going to remove your head,” says Salieri, who I’d forgotten about, and I look over and see the Caster still hanging off him, from both shoulders now, and looking incredibly unthreatened by this.

“Please don’t antagonize him!” says Ritsuka worriedly, very threatened by this.

“I just want him to have a good time,” says the Caster, reluctantly letting go, but never dropping his smile.

“I think rest is a good idea,” says the Doctor, glancing at the spirits in the corner, and then back at those of us closer to him a bit nervously, “But uh—I don’t think we’ve given proper introductions yet. I haven’t anyway. And I’m sure all this is overwhelming enough on its own.” He shoots me a pitying look.

It is. I feel very grateful towards him.

“I’m Doctor Romani Archaman. A lot of people seem to have trouble pronouncing that, so if you want to call me Doctor Roman instead, that’s fine with me,” he continues with a kind smile, and then indicating the green-haired archer I already know as David, “This is King David, an Archer. You’ve met Billy the Kid, Gunner, and Ritsuka Fujimaru, human mage.” They nod or shoot me a smile. Billy flicks the brim of his hat up like a greeting. He moves on to indicate the other Archer, the Caster, and Salieri in turn. “That’s Robin Hood, Archer. Wolfgang Amadeus Mozart, Caster, and Antonio Salieri, Avenger.”

Avenger. That’s…a hard class. I wish I knew what to say to him, but I don’t think he wants my condolences.

“The other two who were with us before, the Red Archer is Emiya, and the Blue Lancer is Cu Chulainn,” he finishes, “They’re out dealing with a problem right now, but I think they’ll be back pretty soon.”

“Thank you,” I reply, “I’m Fuuma Kotarou, Fifth Head of the Genji Clan. Assassin.”

There are little comments of assent or introduction from the circle, and it’s all much easier to process than the talk of infinite vacation leave. Did I imagine that? I have to have, right? I’m so confused right now. I should probably try not to act confused though. I want to be useful, to thank her for rescuing me, and that won’t help.

“Well, feel free to get some sleep if you like it,” says Billy the Kid as people disperse a little, coming over to take the seat King David was in before now that he’s vacated it to speak to Doctor Archaman, “But if you ain’t so tired, there’s good food, an’ Robin an’ I were gonna play some cards, if you want in.”

I thought I wanted sleep, but the idea of food outweighs that, and I manage to sit up a little.

“Thanks,” I say. Wait. Food? As a— “Are you…you said there is food for us?”

I look up for my Master, and she’s already vanishing into the little hall I smell food from, so I look back at Billy.

“Yeah, she’s unusual,” he says with a very proud grin.

“That doesn’t begin to cover it,” says Robin Hood, moving his chair over to Billy’s side of the bed, “But it’s completely in a good way.”

… “I…am not completely certain I’ve actually woken up again. Or that any of this is happening,” I tell them, a little worried it’s not a good idea to say that.

“Yeah, I felt that way too,” agrees Billy, nonplussed, “We never get treated ‘cept like shit. It’s happenin’ though.”

Huh. I’m still not totally sure I believe him, but. I … I guess if it’s a dream, at least it’s a really, really good one. And…even that’s quite the rare gift. We’re not supposed to dream like this anymore.

“Okay. Game’s called Faro. Easy to learn—trust me. ‘N I’ll go easy on ya,” says Billy the Kid.

“He will,” agrees Robin tiredly, “But only the first time. Then he’ll take you for all you’re worth.”

Scary…

“Ritsuka’s playin’ Bank, ‘cause I already taught her ‘n she’s actually pretty good at it,” he continues, then pauses to call to the rest of the room, “Anyone else want deal’d in?”

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

“So, be real,” I say, landing silently on the edge of the roof behind Archer and adjusting my grip on my spear, “The kid wanted us to talk to her, ‘just in case,’ but there was never any other way this was gonna go; the others sent us because they needed someone who could make sure we don’t just get her, we get all the information she had backups of too.”

“No,” replies Archer, side-eyeing me for a moment, “If the others wanted to send someone to torture out information, they would have asked Salieri to go.”

I snort. “No way; he doesn’t have the patience for that. Alone, he’d rip her head off in under a minute.”

“Look, it hardly matters,” says Archer with a sigh, turning to actually face me a little. “… What, does it bother you to be the one who seems good at this?”

“At killing?” I ask, genuinely surprised for a second, but no, that’s not what he means. He means ‘at being cutthroat’.

I consider.

“No, not really,” I decide.

He tilts his head like assent. “…Funny they’re wrong, though.”

“Hm?”

“Please,” he says, scanning the building ahead again, and then glancing over at me, “You’re not cutthroat. You picked two kids in a grail war as your allies. I’ve seen you die at least eight times in the stupidest of ways, just because there was something especially rotten you didn’t want to do.”

I can’t figure out if that’s a dig, or a backhanded compliment, or…?

“Oh, you can talk,” I decide to shoot back, because it’s the easiest response, “Under all that superiority complex, edgy shit you got going on, you’re really just a lifelong pacifist who got tired.”

Oooh, low blow. He did not like that.

For a long few seconds, he just narrows his eyes and looks at me, then he turns away, expression hard.

I think maybe I took that one too far.

“There. Top floor. See it?” he asks, and I do, immediately. Just for an instant, but the tiniest change in mana sparks in the third room from last on the far right. Hell of a bounded field hiding her, but we finally found the signature we were looking for.

“We got her,” I say, grip tightening.

He nods, eyes on the window.

It doesn’t take long.

I don’t know what I expected.

But it wasn’t what I got.

I forget, but he’s not like the rest of us. He’s not dragged around to mage summons off and on, and frozen on the throne otherwise. He’s in that reality marble of his, for a few moments, and then thrown out by the Counter Force to deal with some new threat. I forget that he’s not like the rest, because I see him so much. But he isn’t.

We entered the room silent, the curtain blowing behind us. Him ahead, me just behind, waiting.

He raised his sword calmly, and she saw him as she turned.

She was smart enough not to attack immediately. She knew her work well enough to recognize me and what I was, and not to recognize him and know he wasn’t one of hers. She asked.

He said, “I am an agent of the Counter Force. Sent to bring peace and stability whenever the living humans of a time throw the world too far off balance. I ensure the survival of the human race. Whatever the cost, whatever the call, whatever the reason. Without quarter, or excuse, or appeal. You cannot have aimed your hand at the Throne itself, and not expected this would come much, much sooner, than later.”

Director Ayase had nodded, slow, calm. Almost still, even in motion. “So. An answer to what happened last night that finally makes sense. I don’t suppose you people let humans off with a warning?”

He said nothing. He didn’t move. Weapon still, leveled, in the dark.

That was her moment to appeal, but she did not.

“And you?” asked Director Ayase, turning to me instead.

I raised my spear and grinned a smile of sharp teeth. “Revenge.”

“I didn’t realize that was the Counter Force’s business,” she’d said, turning back to Archer.

Expression almost blank, he held her gaze, and said, “One might say, it is our only business.”

That was her second moment to appeal. She did not.

She tried to kill him.

No equivocations, no fleeing, no apologies or attempts.

Only violence.

And she tried to kill him, not me. Not me first. Of all the things. I didn’t care enough to remember the exact words, but she said something about him still just being a glorified familiar, even if his master was the Counter Force, and she’d activated every trap ready in that room and tried to rip him to shreds. I could see on her face that she really thought she could do it, too. Certainty. As much as I’ve seen it, and as used to it as I should be, just how people with money will really, truly believe they can out-flank god herself will never cease to amaze me.

She did not.

I could have killed her, but I didn’t care who did it, and he didn’t need protecting. He was quick.

I had forgotten that he would be quick.

But, he always is. I certainly remember it now. Not quick to move, but quick to kill. Quick in the act of killing. Quick in making it over. He hit her, once, and she was gone, the next instant. Like an execution, not a kill.

I guess when your only job is revenge, that’s what mercy is forced to look like.

And it was mercy. Brutal, and ugly, and unmemorable mercy, but mercy still.

We went through the room after. He set her down, against the foot of the bed. Not undignified, not special. A neutral, basic respect. Like it was rote. And we found what we needed, and we left.

I watch him now with a little more interest, and a little less annoyance, than usual, as we head back. A flicker of mana on rooftops and through trees.

“Hey,” I say finally as we go, and he stops then and waits for me.

“I didn’t mean you got tired of being one,” I say as I join him on the rooftop. It’s getting close to dawn, but it’s still so dark, you wouldn’t be able to tell by looking. I only know because I can recognize the way it feels. “I just meant you got tired.”

He furrows his brow in I think genuine confusion, and then I see it click.

Archer opens his mouth and starts to say something, then doesn’t. I wait.

“…Is this an apology? Of some kind?” he asks finally, confused and almost amused, “Or are you insulting my level of professionalism?”

“Neither, I think,” I say, “I just think you make a poor cleaner.”

He snorts. “And who let Medea escape injured in that holy grail war where her master sold the execution right for his own servant to another contender..?”

Damn. Gonna be like that, huh?

But the tension from before is gone.

“That’s integrity,” I shrug him off completely.

“Sure,” he almost laughs. I return the grin.

Huh. This almost feels familiar too. Can’t remember any good times with this guy to be remem—

“Wait, shit, did we go fishing-?”

“What?” says Archer, completely taken aback.

“Was there like, some time we both got summoned somewhere, where that would have been a thing? For the life of me I can’t remember, but I can almost swear,” I reply.

“Why did you have to say that?” he asks, a matching look of consternation on his face as he thinks, “Damn it. Now I kind of remember that too. Why the hell would we-? Was Gilgamesh there?? AGAIN?”

“God, I hope not,” I say, “I fucking hate that guy.”

“Yeah, me too,” says Archer, thinking hard at the middle distance.

There’s a moment of us digging for old memories, and then I shake it off and turn to him, swinging my spear around to lean on it casually. “Well. Either way. At least now it’s done, and we can go back.”

“To what?” he asks automatically.

Huh. Good question. “Shit, I haven’t thought about that. Are we all just getting unsummoned?” I ask.

He shrugs.

Hm. Well. “Guess we’ll find out?” I offer, and it’s so weird a situation to be in, I laugh.

“I guess so,” he replies with what’s almost a laugh, shaking his head a little, “…I guess so.”

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

“It’s all taken care of.”

“All of it?” checks Ritsuka again, eyes huge.

“I promise you,” says Emiya with a patient smile, “They’re okay. We checked, and your brother is still out of the country. Your parents will be with family for the next month. No one who knew anything is around to do anything about it, and any records and backups have been destroyed.”

“They’re safe,” she checks.

He nods.

“Safe, and Ur Shanabi is dead,” chimes in Cu Chulainn, raising his glass of water.

She just looks at them for a few seconds in silence, then her eyes well up and she throws her arms around him, then motions Cu Chulainn close enough she can reach both, and gets him too.

“Thank you so much,” comes her muffled voice.

“Hey, you saved us from a fate worse than death. It’s nothing,” says Cu Chulainn.

“Yeah, we’re the ones need to be thankin’ you,” I chime in. She raises her head to look over at me. “I mean, I was dead! For months, I think. And you swoop in and save me, save all of us?”

“Dismantle a corrupt organization,” adds Robin, joining me.

“Yes. Save all of us, fight an impressive battle,” says Mozart from over in the corner.

“And the best part: we all made it out alive and fairly unscathed!” adds David gleefully.

I nod. That’s a damn good point. We really did great here, I think.

“…I. Wow,” she says, staring at all of us in turn with big eyes, “We really did it, didn’t we?”

“You did,” says Doctor Archaman with his soft smile, looking genuinely about as happy as we are. I can’t really figure the guy out, but no matter how he got mixed up in this, I guess he’s pretty okay.

“You helped too,” I say, feeling charitable.

He looks surprised, and then looks down and kind of smiles.

“You did!” agrees David readily, “Quite a bit! You blew the vault. Did some big magic medicine work. Ran an attack.”

“Alright alright,” says the Doctor quickly, “We all pitched in. You too. Even half dead, you really saved us there,” he adds, to Kotarou, who is watching all of this still from the bed. He’s sitting up now, and looks a whole lot better, and ain’t bad at cards, but I guess he’s probably pretty overwhelmed still. I would be, if I tried to think very rationally about everything going on, and I’ve been up the longest.

“Way to go team!” cheers Ritsuka, raising a fist. There’s a little chorus of assent or relief from everyone. Robin claps me on the back, and I elbow him in a friendly way back, and grin. Even the Avenger looks happy for the moment. Proud maybe.

“So—a celebration?” suggests David.

“Celebration?” echoes Emiya, turning to him as Ritsuka lets go.

“Yeah, it’s what she suggested. –Oh you two weren’t there for that,” I say, “But uh. Well. I’ll. Let her sorta.” I gesture, to try and pass the baton.

“Oh yeah! Right,” says Ritsuka, turning back to Cu Chulainn and Emiya, “When you two were gone, we started talking about what happens next. Uhm, I promised the Doctor we’d all hear him out, about this security situation he has at his organization. He said he could use help, if we’re willing to do that.”

They glance at the Doctor, and so does Robin beside me, and interesting look on his face. Huh. Wonder what that’s about. Maybe he already knows somethin?

“But before then, we thought we’d all go out and do something to celebrate! If—uhm, if you all feel well enough,” she adds.

We glance around at each other.

“I do,” offers Mozart with great enthusiasm.

“And she said after whatever the Doc’s got, we can all just stick around or do whatever,” I add, overtaken by a sudden Irish drive to add chaos to the moment.

It’s so worth it for the looks Emiya and Cu Chulainn both get on their faces instantly. Cu Chulainn like, triple takes, and Emiya looks like all activity behind his eyes short-circuits for about three seconds.

“I’m sorry—what?” says Emiya, trying to recover, and turning to Ritsuka. Behind him, Cu Chulainn’s eyes are just huge.

“Well, I mean,” says Ritsuka, suddenly uncertain over this response, “It’s not like I can’t sustain you, since I have so much mana. It would be really mean to just send you back to the throne, and, there’s no reason it would be bad for you to get to stick around. It sounds like you never get to do anything enjoyable, or rest, so it would maybe be pretty good. To uh…You know.”

Emiya still looks like he’s hitting error codes in his brain. Cu Chulainn has a massive grin starting to form.

“I mean—You don’t have to stay with me,” hurries Ritsuka, misinterpreting Emiya, “—y-you can go wherever you want! And if you didn’t want to stick around, that’s okay too. I just figure. Maybe you all would want uh. Want a break.”

“Well I do!” calls Mozart again, “And so does Salieri.”

Salieri turns to give Mozart the kind of look Emiya is still giving Ritsuka.

“Well shit,” says Cu Chulainn excitedly, “You’re actually serious?”

“Yes?” she says, confused.

He tries to say something, and then just starts laughing. So hard he kind of doubles over, and slaps a hand on Emiya’s shoulder to steady himself. Emiya turns and gives him a blank look for a few seconds, and then shakes his head and slowly comes back to himself, starting to smile as well.

“Are you two okay?” asks Ritsuka.

“Yes,” says Emiya over Cu Chulainn’s shaky, “Oh yeah,” through his laughter. “This just never happens,” continues Emiya, “It’s enough to apparently give someone a little bit of a nervous breakdown.”

“I’m not having a nervous breakdown,” manages Cu Chulainn as he continues to laugh, “It’s just funny!’

“It’s funny?” asks Ritsuka worriedly.

“Not in a bad way,” Robin answers for them, moving forward, “In a kind of cosmic way. It’s like being horribly cursed your whole life, only to win a 900 million dollar lottery.”

“Oh,” says Ritsuka, clearly not getting it at all, but encouraged at least.

“We can figure the rest out later, can’t we?” pipes up Mozart enthusiastically, “I say we go with the mood, and celebrate! What’s the last time anyone here has been out on the town?”

“’Out on the’—” starts Emiya, incredulous.

“Won’t that be a risk?” asks Salieri, which is the first thing I’ve heard him say in a while. It’s a wild sight, him next to Mozart, who’s a beacon’ ah light without a care in the world, n’him surrounded by an aura like he’s trying to compress all the rage and confusion and murderous intent I seen in him in battle, into a little one foot radius around his body and probably a couple ulcers, just to not destroy everything around him. Never seen someone look so clocked out in such a specific, intentional way. Kinda impressive actually. Like a bomb held together by force of will.

“Being spirits, you mean?” asks Doctor Archaman. He considers. “…Well, we—you—took care of Ur-Shanabi’s leadership. No one around should know to look out for you. What happened with Mercury, they possibly could be looking for Fuuma Kotarou, but they won’t be yet. Their priority will be figuring out who did this, and why. There’s always the chance of being spotted, by other mages, but I don’t think anywhere that would qualify as ‘out on the town’ is somewhere we’d be likely to be spotted. Or for mages to be. So…So long as you don’t do anything to draw attention to yourself.”

“Like…how we look?” asks Ritsuka.

I glance at her in surprise, then down at myself.

Oh. Haha. Yeah…The whole ‘cowboy’ thing might not scream ‘heroic spirit,’ but it sure screams somethin’. And I’m the most modern hero here, ‘cept apparently Emiya. An he sure don’t look it.

“Ah—uh, yes,” says Doctor Archaman awkwardly.

“We’ll go grab clothes first then! Something to blend in,” says Ritsuka excitedly, “I know a little shop that would be perfect, pretty close.”

The rest of us trade glances.

“Well, I’m in!” I decide, fully pumped. She turns and grins at me. Heh heh.

“I…guess?” says Emiya, almost mystified, while Cu Chulann offers something a little like finger guns from behind him, and Robin nods dissociatively.

“You already know I am!” chimes in Mozart, grabbing Salieri’s arm, “Come on, Antonio!”

Salieri just stares at him blankly. David nods sagely, and claps an arm around Doctor Archaman’s shoulder. Which is kinda hard, because he’s way shorter’n him. “You as well, Doctor! You’ve got a ruined lab coat, bedclothes, and that swimsuit, and none of those won’t grab attention.

Doctor Archaman looks chagrined.

I look at Kotarou.

“Uh…” he says when he notices, and returns the eye contact, “…okay?”

He sounds so unsure, poor guy. I’d be so lost too.

“Let’s do it,” I affirm.

Ritsuka nods. “Great! We can take the train.”

“We can?” Cu Chulainn asks her dubiously.

“No, she’s right,” sighs Emiya, “You see weirder stuff on the train.”

“Really?” I ask.

Emiya and Ritsuka both nod.

To my incredible astonishment, they’re right. We take the train, and barely get a look. I hear someone sigh. Two girls ask if they can take a photo and if David and Kotarou are cosplaying as ‘Guy and Azel’. Doctor Archaman panics and says yes. Other than that, we are left alone.

Ritsuka hops off the train and we follow her through city streets that still seem unimaginably big and full and clean, compared to what I knew. Like a maze, but, she seems to know it by heart, and we wind through the labyrinth to a quieter street and a white and blue building called 2nd STREET Total Reuse.

We get a bit of an odd look walkin’ in, but I guess the cashier ain’t paid enough to care, and Ritsuka goes up and excitedly asks a few questions about where stuff is, and the lady barely pays mind to us at all after that. I get dragged with Kotarou down an aisle, since we’re about the same height, and Ritsuka seems to be havin’ the time of her life pitchin’ ideas to us. So goofy. I can’t think of the last…ever? I guess…yeah, least as far as I remember, I ain’t ever gone clothes shoppin’, even just for the practicality of a disguise, since I was a heroic spirit. Usually if your master wants some incognito, you just go into spirit form ‘n wait.

It's fun. I never had cash to shop as a kid, but the few times when I was real little, ‘n my mom took me for fabric for Sunday clothes ‘n a treat, and the few times again once I started scorin’ as a thief, ‘n first used some spoils?

It was fun then, and it’s fun now. She’s passin’ out jackets and shoes and wonderin’ to herself out loud if it’s fine for me to keep my cowboy hat. It’s so…normal, and different, and carefree. Even just an instant in time, it’s great. Like stepping back into a day I was really alive.

Poor Kotarou looks like he’s still mentally almost 100% clocked out. I hear the others chattin. David seems to be draggin’ Doctor Archaman around the store, and the poor man’s just lettin’ it happen. Guess they must’ve really connected back when David knew him as a boy—rare to have that happen, but I guess I’d feel something like the same seein’ Ritsuka again after a long time. Mozart’s tryin’ to do the same to Salieri, and it’s a plain wonder the man ain’t killed him yet. They got a real complicated relationship. Salieri keeps arguing his clothes are actually normal enough to pass for contemporary, which might be true, because it’s kinda a dated suit, but it’s just a black suit. Mozart ain’t havin it, and Ritsuka leaves us to double-team him, and I have to assume he loses, because next time I see him he’s tiredly wearing a more casual suit jacket, and talking to Cu Chulainn by some shoes.

“You holdin up okay?” I ask Kotarou, glancing over as I’m finishin’ what I got goin’ and step back out of the changing room to see he’s still just holding an armful of things Ritsuka gave him, with his face blank.

He kind of blinks, and slowly turns his head to look at me.

“Oh. Uh. …I don’t really know,” he offers after a moment.

I nod. “It’s a whole lot.”

“Does…?” he hesitates, and considers, then looks up again, seeming more awake, “Does this all feel like it’s not really happening, to you?”

He said somethin’ like this back at the hotel, too. Guess he’s still feelin pretty rough. “Mmm, it did at first,” I reply, thinking it through sincerely, “But I’ve been up for like, 48 hours now. Somewhere around day two, I think, I decided it must be real.”

“…Really,” he says thoughtfully, more to himself than me.

“It is surreal,” I say.

He nods slowly. “It feels like…I was going to say ‘something that would happen to somebody else,’ but, it’s not even that. It feels like something you wish could happen to even just somebody else, a little like you. But wouldn’t. Like you might say, ‘well, in another life, I got a master who just let me goof off and buy things.’”

That is a fair point.

“Guess it does. …I s’pose that means we’re livin the dream, huh?” I add after a second with enthusiasm.

He blinks. “…Does it?”

I consider again, then nod. “Think so.”

“Huh,” he says, thinking that through, “That just doesn’t seem like something that could really happen to me.”

I shrug. “Me either. But I think when somethin’ too good to be true finally happens, you just gotta embrace it whole-hog, ‘n go with your own momentum. I mean, it’s gotta be once in a lifetime, right?” I smile and nudge his arm with my elbow. “Better make it count.”

He thinks, and then smiles a little, and nods again. “I guess so.”

“I mean, we got the bad flip side of that too. Only a handful of us got trapped in death-torture device shit for a couple weeks, so, y’know. I figure we almost earned it.”

I get a real smile that time. He still looks pretty glazed over, but a lot better than he did.

“Plus—Damn Robin!” I interrupt myself, spotting him, “Lookin’ good!”

He pauses where he was about to step past the aisle, and glances at me and gives me an amused sigh and a smile. “This is literally just black jeans and a green shirt. You know that.”

“You’re wearin’ the hell out of it though,” I say.

He rolls his eyes but he keeps smiling.

“Go on,” I say to Kotarou, slapping him on the back to bring him back down to earth, and gesturing to the changing room. He nods and vanishes inside.

“So,” I say as Robin walks over, “If you could do anything in the world to celebrate, what would it be?”

“I don’t know. Get off the throne?” jokes Robin, sliding over next to me.

“I meant in a mundane way,” I say, fake miffed, “And you know it.”

“Mmm, alright,” says Robin without missing a beat, “Mundane celebration, mundane celebration…hm. Maybe I’d…Go visit the old stomping ground?” he suggests, looking surprised at his own idea.

“Like, go home? See what’s changed?” I ask.

He shrugs. “Maybe. Dunno.”

That sounds a little interesting to me too.

“What about just today?” I try.

“Just today?” he echoes, “Well…I guess I’d…” He glances at me and then grins. “Go drinkin’.”

“Yeah?” I ask.

“I mean, why not? It’s not complicated, or elaborate, but I miss spending time eating and drinking with friends between work. Just relaxing, sharing stories.” He gestures with an arm.

“Me too,” I agree, “And it wouldn’t hurt if it was somethin’ sweet! That girl gave me a chocolate earlier, and now my damn mouth can’t stop thinkin’ about the fact that sometimes food is sweet.”

“God, yeah,” agrees Robin with a faraway look on his face, “Man, it would be nice to get drunk. Not much, just a little, you know? Take the edge off.”

I nod.

“You think we can do that?”

“I mean, why not?” I say, “We’re already decided on goin’ to get food or somethin’.”

We look back out over the others we can see. Everyone but Kotarou seems to have their new outfit by now. Emiya looks so mundane dressed casually, and even Cu Chulainn looks virtually normal. It makes me almost feel like, even if it’s just for the next few hours, we’ll really get to be: people, alive, carefree. The little stuff you don’t miss enough till you’re dead ‘n gone. Doctor Archaman is up at the front with David, payin’, and they look so casual I could almost believe they’re family, doin’ something they’ve done 100 times. Any other day. ‘N Rits is over with Salieri and Mozart, trying to keep the Avenger from going insane, by the look of it. I know that, because I’ve met them, but if I couldn’t sense the mana from here, they’d just look like a couple old friends having a fight they don’t mean.

Behind me, Kotarou steps back out of the changing room. He’s got grey pants and red trimmed boots, a deep grey shirt. He could be Ritsuka’s classmate, like that.

He glances at me a little awkwardly, pushing some hair out of an eye, and tries to smile, and I feel the thought even more. We could all be anybody right now.

What a rare gift, no matter how long it lasts. I guess somebody up there’s still lookin’ out for me.

Robin looks over and smiles too, and then double-takes hard and says, “Wait a second.” He looks from him, to me, to himself. “Did she color code us??”

Huh.

I look down at my jeans and brown t-shirt. Up and over at Emiya in his black pants and dark red jacket, Cu Chulainn’s blue flannel and jeans, Mozart’s purple dress shirt and black pants and fancy green scarf, Salieri’s black suit and matching red scarf, David’s cream button-down and black pants with a little green vest.

“God Damn! She did!” I exclaim.

That’s so funny.

“Huh…” says Kotarou, looking down at himself.

“Look!” says Robin, about to lose it, gesturing towards the counter, “She even did it to herself!”

Oh damn, it’s true. She didn’t even need to buy anything, ‘cause she had clothes already, but she’s picked up a white jacket somewhere, to replace the one totaled by that trip to shreds in Ur-Shanabi.

“Well I’ll be,” I say.

“Not the Doctor, though,” says Kotarou with interest.

“David picked his,” says Robin, waving that away, “I saw it.”

From the way the poor man is wearing a slutty little white v-neck with red trim, and looking absolutely miserable about it, I am not surprised one bit to hear that.

“Come on!” calls Ritsuka from the front, seeing us and waving us over, “I think we found a good restaurant!”

I glance at Robin and Kotarou. Kotarou blinks, and then gives a shaky little smile.

“Somewhere we can drink?” asks Cu Chulainn with interest. She nods.

“Well, well, well,” says Robin, immensely pleased. He claps us both on the shoulder, gives me a grin, and heads over.

We follow.

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

“Alright, alright!” says David cheerily, sliding up to the table with my tray of drinks from the café outside.

“Hell yeah!” says Billy excitedly, taking the hot chocolate he asked for and setting it next to the half-finished glass of liquor on the table at his place.

“Seriously?” says Emiya.

“I ain’t gotta limit myself to one drink,” he scoffs, taking alternate swigs from both.

Emiya grimaces.

Yeah, I feel that. I can see drinking both, but alternating? Billy’s my boy though, so I keep my mouth shut and take another sip of the sake we were offered when we sat down. I don’t really care so much what I’m drinking, so long as it takes an edge off, and it is damn well doing that for me.

“And for you, Chavera,” says David, passing another hot chocolate to Ritsuka, who beams and picks one of the marshmallows off the top to chew on, before taking a swig. No wonder she and Billy get along.

“This is good stuff,” says Cu Chulainn, ignoring all of them in favor of the shochu he’s been devouring at a genuinely impressive rate. He’s not wrong. I’m pacing myself a little by mostly sticking with the lighter alcohol, because there is a very specific level of drunk I like to get, but I’ve had some of it too, and it’s quality.

“And dinner was amazing,” agrees Ritsuka, who’s still getting through the last of hers.

I’ve never had okonomiyaki before, but I would agree with that as well. This is pretty much exactly what I was hoping for when I told Billy how I’d prefer to spend my celebration. Go me.

“And you,” says David finally, passing the Doctor, who’s declined drinking alcohol, the last cup in the tray.

“Thanks,” he says, taking it and setting it by his plate.

“Okay, so. We’ve definitely met before,” says Kotarou, gesturing to himself and me, picking up where the conversation was before David’s return. He points to Billy and me then. “You’ve definitely met before.” He points to Cu Chulainn and Emiya. “You two have very definitelymet before. Many times.”

They give unhappy sounds of assent and turn to their alcohol.

“You’ve met, but only you remember it,” he says, indicating Emiya and me again.

Yeah. Very annoyed I don’t remember that one. Emiya doesn’t look exactly thrilled that he does, though, so probably we tried to kill each other. I guess it can’t matter now.

“You two know each other,” he continues, gesturing to Doctor Archaman, and David, “And you two know each other,” he finishes, indicating Salieri and Mozart.

“That seems about right,” I say.

“Archers really get around,” he says contemplatively.

I grin. Dunno why that’s so funny to me. Do we? Maybe we do.

“But this is your first time summoning heroic spirits, right?” he checks, glancing up at Ritsuka. She nods.

“Hell of a first time,” I observe.

“Atta girl,” cheers Billy, who is a little bit drunk.

She grins and flushes.

“It seems oddly fortuitous we’d have had so many meet each other before, and remember it,” says Kotarou with building interest, “I’m not sure I believe in fate as such, but, doesn’t it almost seem…”

‘Meant to be?’

Hm…

“Yeah, I think it’s nice,” says Ritsuka, “It’s like a reunion, in ways.”

David nods sagely and smiles. Beside him, Doctor Archaman watches that and smiles a little too, then takes a sip of his drink.

Man, I still cannot get a read on that guy at all. I’ve been trying, ever since Emiya brought it up, but. As sure as I am something is going on, for the life of me, I can’t pin down what. He seems nice. He seems normal. He seems fine, and mundane, and kind even. A little bit of a coward, a little out of his depth, but, I know he’s neither. No coward would have done what he did last night, or today, and no one out of their depth with heroic spirits can patch together a shattered spirit core. So why is he…?

And he’s damn convincing…

It makes me feel unsettled, but. Then he says literally anything, and I don’t anymore, because he’s the least worrying person I’ve ever met. It’s so frustrating. And he-

“…Is this…?” The Doctor’s face changes dramatically, almost to a disbelieving grimace. He takes another sip, and gives David an indescribable look. “Is this just a cup of warm milk and honey?”

David absolutely loses it in the chair next to him—like this is the funniest fucking prank on the planet.

Doctor Archaman is still giving him this look like he cannot believe he would do this, and I can’t get what’s funny about it at all. The hell?

“Seriously?” he asks, “Are you kidding me? You went to a coffee shop and ordered me milk and honey just to…”

He gives the sigh of someone shifting the weight of twenty years of exhaustion in the breath and shakes his head, but he almost cracks a smile too. David is just grinning elated at him.

“That’s so fucking stupid,” says Doctor Archaman, who I’ve not heard use this tone before.

“It’s funny,” argues David happily.

“Oh, whatever,” says Doctor Archaman, but he’s still drinking it.

“It’s good for you!” says David, pleased, grabbing his arm, “Makes those bones strong!”

“You’re unbelievable,” says Doctor Archaman, not looking at him, but he’s not mad anymore.

I look at Emiya. He’s watching too, and we trade a ‘Oh I saw it, but I don’t know what the fuck it was,’ look. Everything those two do just gives me more questions. Doesn’t alarm me. But the fact they’re so covert about shit that doesn’t alarm me at all, does alarm me a little. Uhg, I hate this.

Whatever, I think, turning back to my own drink.

“Well, I think it’s all wonderful!” says Mozart, circling back. He clinks his glass against Salieri’s cheerily. “Over two-hundred years, and we finally see each other again! And with the same master even! Not at war! What are the odds?”

Salieri sighs and looks at his empty cup. He sat down by me, originally, to get away from that man, but Mozart just dragged a stool over, forcibly somehow shoved it into the space between us, and is now practically in the guy’s lap. Poor bastard.

I refill his glass. He gives me a tired, grateful sigh, and downs it in one gulp. Jesus, and I used the shochu.

“Yeah, it’s real nice! I’m always happy to see Robin, and havin’ partners at all in any summon’s rare enough,” says Billy, raising his glass to me. I meet him with a smile, and we drink.

Somehow everyone kind of ends up looking towards Cu Chulainn and Emiya, I guess seeing them as the next logical speakers, and when they become aware of it, they trade disgusted glances.

“Don’t look at me,” says Cu Chulainn, “I’m never happy to see this bastard’s face. I just can’t get away from him.”

“Yeah, I’m so pleased every time a new opponent walks into the room, and it’s you again,” says Emiya, dripping sarcasm. Cu Chulainn grins.

“I can’t tell if you’re actually friends, or not,” says Ritsuka with a little worry.

“Oh, they’re friends,” says Billy the same time I say, “Friends,” tiredly, and Mozart says, “Inseparable.”

Neither of them like that one bit.

“Well, he’s not so bad I can’t work with him,” offers Cu Chulainn, deciding the meat on his plate is more worth his time than this conversation, and digging in, “Plus,” he continues, mouth chock-full, “less annoying to have him on my side, than taking way more of my time than it should to kill.”

“Yeah, that’s less annoying to me too,” agrees Emiya. I fuckin bet. I would not love to be killed by that specific lancer. He’s terrifying in combat. Even stalling against him wouldn’t be fun.

“I think it’s great to see old friends,” says David, very pleased.

“You couldn’t have even gotten shots in this?” asks Doctor Archaman, still stuck on the drink, “I…I did specifically say ‘oh just anything with caffeine,’ and you got one of the only things at a coffee shop that doesn’t have some.”

David shrugs.

“How about you?” says Ritsuka, smiling at Kotarou.

He flushes and smiles back. “Uh. I…don’t actually remember the summoning I met Robin Hood on in any detail, just that I’ve met him before for sure, somewhere. But I uh—I’m just glad to be anywhere other than where I was the last night.”

She looks happy for him, and Kotarou seems grounded by that.

“You can say that again,” agrees Billy.

“We’re all pretty lucky,” I say, raising my glass, “All things considered.” Most of the others toast that. It’s…all things considered, almost unbelievably true.

“You won’t say anything, but I know even you have to be pleased, spending time with me like life is normal again,” says Mozart to Salieri, sipping his sake happily.

“You really don’t get it, do you?” says Salieri finally, turning to give him such an exhausted look that I feel worse for him than I already did.

“Mm?” says Mozart, glancing over without a care in the world.

“I’m not happy to be here with you,” says Salieri, in great distress, “I would love to be summoned anywhere else. I am expending every amount of effort I am able, not to kill you right now. This is not relaxing and enjoyable: it is a nightmare.”

“It can’t really be that hard,” says Mozart, lowering his glass.

Salieri gets a look on his face that says Oh Yes It Fucking Can pretty clearly. The poor man looks so miserable and strung out.

“We’re having fun right now, though,” says Mozart.

“You, are having fun,” says Salieri.

Mozart sighs and sets down his cup, then shifts to face him. “Alright, Antonio. What would it take for you to have a good time?”

“You really don’t seem to grasp this situation,” says Salieri, almost amazed this time.

“You say, ‘the throne, blah blah blah, Avenger, perception, innocent monster,’” he waves his wrist in a circle, “’You’re compelled to kill me. You’re not doing it though.’ But resisting hurts? Like a command spell.”

“Not…exactly. It’s…” He hesitates, and glances at Ritsuka, then the rest of us.

“Come on,” says Mozart, “I’m taking it serious! I’m trying to help! Let’s figure this out.”

“You cannot just ‘figure it out,’” says Salieri in great distress, “It is what it is! My nature is changed. I am supposed to be the figure who kills you. I am half Antonio Salieri, and half just this concept of a man who is consumed by the desire for your murder. It’s not that ‘I’—the ‘I’ you think of, am compelled. It is that ‘I’ am made up, of multiple parts now. And not all of them are Antonio Salieri. Even if I put forward as much effort as it is possible for me, and more, I still cannot control the part of me that is not me, forever.”

Mozart watches that. For once, his smile disappears, and he looks almost concerned, or thoughtful.

“You do not ‘know’ what I am like,” pleads Salieri, encouraged by this, “because…I am not the man you knew. I am a part of him, or, he is a part of me. But the heroic spirit ‘Antonio Salieri’ and the man called that in life are not the same thing. I know, what I will do. Because I am in here, experiencing it. And I don’t…want to kill you. ‘I’ do, but the part of me you speak to, does not. But…I…I know it’s a battle I will lose. Because I have to win, every second, of every day, to not kill you. The rest of me only has to win once. Even for an instant. I am many things, Amadeus, but you of all people know me not to be perfect. I am not you.”

There is quiet around the table for a moment, everyone listening now. Thinking. Ritsuka looking so sad, and worried.

“…So, if you were ‘invented,’ to kill me,” says Mozart after a moment, thinking himself, “Would that do it?”

“What?” says Salieri.

“If you killed me,” asks Mozart earnestly, “Would that…’fix’ you? Would the rest of you go away, mission accomplished?”

Salieri looks so genuinely horrified by that. “I am not going to kill you!”

Mozart looks to the rest of us and holds a hand towards him like See??

“No! I—I mean, I will not choose to. I don’t…Amadeus-” tries Salieri frantically.

“-Would once be enough?” asks Billy.

“-No—no it would not,” says Salieri, looking relieved by the interruption, “You would return to the throne. It would not be permanent, so, I would not…cease.”

“What about the version who killed me though? Would he be fine after that?” asks Mozart.

“The-? What?” says Salieri.

“The one in the specific summons,” says Mozart, as if this is the most normal line of questioning in the world.

It’s very clear from his face that Salieri has no idea, but is not interested in this becoming a proposition even if so.

“Hmmm,” says Mozart with interest.

“…Amadeus, that would not…” starts Salieri worriedly.

“—Oh, you’re right. Leaning into your desire to murder me is probably not a good idea anyway, and I don’t want to die!” says Mozart, tone 180’d back to light again, “It’s not very fun.”

“Ah,” says Salieri, greatly relieved and a little shaken. He glances at Mozart, then takes a drink to steady himself.

“I do wonder if we could get the throne on a technicality, though,” says Mozart, picking up his glass and staring past it with great focus, “It’s worth the try, right?” He looks over at Salieri. “I mean, you are always welcome to make me die in the Shakespearian manner, and see if that would help.”

Salieri chokes on his drink so horribly I am sincerely concerned it might be killing him. Past me, Emiya chokes almost as hard, and Cu Chulainn spits his drink out and starts laughing uncontrollably. I am lucky I was between sips, and am just stuck staring at nothing and fighting for my life as I try to run that through my head without reacting. At the end of the table, I hear David hacking his lungs up too, and Doctor Archaman fighting a losing battle not to devolve into laughter.

Still coughing up his lungs, Salieri makes it upright enough again to give Mozart, who is beaming, the most pathetically betrayed look I think I have ever seen.

Holy shit.

Cu Chulainn and the Doctor are about to get to me. I am fighting not to laugh in this poor man’s face but oh my god.

“What?” says Ritsuka, deeply confused and worried. She looks from one person to another. “What? I don’t get it? What does that mean?”

“No one tell her,” chokes out Emiya with murderous intent, trying to get alcohol back out of his lungs. Which causes Cu Chulainn to lose it completely all over again, and it takes me with him this time. Billy is giving me such a confused look too, and that’s only making it worse.

“I don’t know either,” says Kotarou when she looks at him. God bless, I think, bending over the table to cover my face as I lose my struggle.

“Everything is terrible enough without you constantly mocking me,” says Salieri very quietly, a cloud of melancholy descending around him like a pillar of fire.

“But I’m not!” protests Mozart with his bubbly energy unaltered, “I mean it. I’m always down for a good time.”

I’m beginning to think Cu Chulainn, David, and I are never going to make it back off this table, and Emiya is starting to crack too.

“What the fuck is goin’ on?” asks Billy, kind of excited by this energy.

“No one tell the kid!” says Emiya again, this time in, I assume, all of our heads but Ritsuka’s, “I’m not kidding. I will end you.”

“We would have to be able to breathe to do it anyway,” I manage to think back from the table. My warrior’s heart feels Cu Chulainn agreeing with me from his own aching ribs three seats down.

“Uhm. Okay,” says Ritsuka kind of nervously, “I’m not really sure what’s going on, but, please don’t be mean to Mr. Salieri.”

“I’m not!” protests Mozart, intent, I’m sure, on making this even worse. “I love Salieri. I’m just trying to put some options on the table.”

Through the fuckin’ gasps for breath coming even from his thoughts, Cu Chulainn holds it mentally together enough to get a, “Including ‘on the table,’” through to the mental group chat before succumbing completely again, and it’s a fuckin’ murder-suicide to everyone else who knows what he’s talking about. Even caps Emiya, and I see David go back down at the end of the line.

We are strung out to be laughing like this like fucking high schoolers, I think, trying to regain any semblance of composure. Damn I hope Salieri was not one of the people who heard that.

Salieri gets up from the table and starts to leave.

“Wait! Antonio!” says Mozart, hopping right up after him, “Come back—I’m only saying it could be worth a shot.”

I consider going after them to make sure the Caster doesn’t get his head ripped off, but that now seems between them and God.

“Should I go after them?” asks Ritsuka, still completely lost.

“Uhm,” manages Doctor Archaman, who was spared Cu Chulainn’s comment, without a mental link, and is recovering faster than the rest of us, but not quite there yet, “Maybe? I’m not really sure. …I’m actually very un-sure.”

“Whoooo,” says David, wiping tears away with his palm, “What a morning, right?”

“Uhm...I guess I better should—I mean—I better. I should—I probably should,” stutters out Ritsuka, hopping up.

“I’ll come with ya,” offers Billy.

She starts to give him a grateful look, and then her expression changes.

“Everyone! Get out here! I don’t know what’s happening, but it’s really bad! Now!”

I have not heard the Caster frantic before.

“NOW!”

I am up before Salieri speaks, the others around me doing the same. I don’t know where those two went, but Mozart said ‘out,’ and we all think the same thing, and tear for the door. The Lancer doesn’t even bother, shattering a plate window and skidding out onto the street, fastest route between two points a straight line, and I follow on his heels.

I know the second I am out what they saw.

The sky.

“What?” I hear Ritsuka gasp. Fear, confusion.

Billy must have carried her with him.

I only vaguely register that.

Around us, humans in the street are pointing, whispering. Some calling out in alarm.

“Is that a bomb?” asks Ritsuka in a terror that must only come from living in the shadow of knowing what a nuke could do to a city.

It’s not though. I could feel that, if it was, even from a distance. But it’s.

It’s not heat and light. It’s nothing.

What the hell?

At the horizon ahead—

SHIT!

I turn and look, and it’s not just ahead of me. It’s behind. Left, right, all around.

Horrible, empty whiteness, at the edge of my vision. Like the world is an unfinished drawing outside the city.

It’s moving.

Oh fuck it’s moving.

Like a wave? No. Like…a scanner almost. Like a searchlight. The white emptiness on the horizon is streaking towards us, at a horrifying pace, and there is…nowhere to go.

Oh fuck. Everyone is about to die.

‘Everyone’? How big can—

“No!”

The most agonized sound I’ve ever heard.

I turn, and behind me, I see Doctor Archaman stumbling out into the street seconds after the rest of us, stuck running on human legs at a human speed.

There is an indescribable horror and terror and heartbreak on his face.

Like he’s done this.

No.

“This can’t!” He looks to David, who has gone white as a sheet, in desperation, “I-It’s not supposed to happen now! It can’t happen now! Not until the end of the year! This is impossible! There’s no WAY!”

He’s almost shouting at the sky, like he’s challenging the world itself on the reality before him.

“It can’t,” he whispers, broken and frozen in a moment of time.

Not like he’s done it. Like he…failed to stop it.

Something almost clicks in my head, but I know it’s too late now.

It is going to be too late for all of us in a second here.

No other idea what to do, I find Billy and move up, take his hand.

He’s set Ritsuka down. She’s still right by him, staring in horror at the whiteness descending on us all. When he sees me take his hand, he looks up into my face, and I see whatever he was thinking of doing, he lets go of the idea and accepts what I’ve figured out, looks at Ritsuka, and puts a hand on her shoulder.

She turns, face ghostly, and he gives her a look that says, “I’m sorry,” and she gets it too. Shaking, she takes the hand he holds out, and he pulls her against his chest. She buries her face there and shuts her eyes.

Ahead of us, Kotarou worriedly looks back at her, then moves closer and steps between her and the skyline, so she can’t see anything at all past him and Billy, and places a hand on her back.

In the streets around us, people begin to panic. Screaming, crying, standing still. Some run. I hear people deny this is happening; I hear a lot of them say ‘bomb,’ in a kind of horror I cannot being to describe.

I see Kotarou shut his eyes too, and hear him whispering words I can’t make out. I’m sure though, from the intonation, it’s a prayer.

I guess I should say one of those myself.

If there was ever a time.

“B'ní?” calls David frantically. He dashes so fast to Doctor Archaman I don’t see him move, and grabs the man’s arms. Doctor Archaman looks at him like a man drowning looks at the last piece of driftwood in a hurricane. “Think! There is a reason we met! We must have something!”

“We-?” Doctor Archaman looks at the skyline in desperation, and I see something like hope flicker to life on his face. “Archer!”

All of us look at him.

“Fuck! Emiya!” he corrects, pulling away from David to move, “Blade Works! It’s a reality marble? How long-? How many people—?!”

Emiya gets what he means immediately. “Go,” he says, I’m not sure if to him or to Cu Chulainn, or both, because both split the second he says it. He looks at me, too, like I’m meant to get something, and a second later I do. Oh shit.

“Billy!” I call as I hear him begin the incantation, “Get closer!”

I let go of him, and he grabs Ritsuka and runs.

“Please! Everyone! Anyone who can hear me! I can protect you!” calls Doctor Archaman desperately, screaming at the shop fronts and passers-by, the offices and stopped cars, workers, civilians. Anyone who could possibly hear, “Please! Get close! That thing is going to hit, and kill us all! If you get close to the man in red, we can save you! Please! Please it’s insane, I know this is insane, but look at the sky! Listen to me!” He turns in desperation and finds Mozart in the crowd, “Do something to show them!”

Mozart drags Salieri behind him and runs for Emiya, the sound of a piano suddenly in the air around him and bursts of flashing lights and sparks that mean nothing but spectacle appear around him, and people turn and look.

“Come on!” I call, shoving, trying to get people to move, “We can help you!”

It’s enough. Not for everyone, but in the face of the nothing descending on us, some people move when they see the lights around Mozart, and others follow, just to be trying, some last, desperate human attempt at life. I start throwing open doors, calling into buildings. The wall is getting here faster. On my far right, I see the Lancer who was doing what I’m doing a few seconds ago has now given up on persuasion and is just throwing people towards where they need to be.

Behind us, I hear Doctor Archaman call for Mozart to make the area of effect visible, and a second later a bright ring of gold light appears about fifty feet ahead of me. It’s much, much bigger than he made the phantasm last time. This must be the best he can possibly do.

Even so, it’s so little to a city of people. I see civilians in the street ahead of me rushing, trying to follow the shouts of, “This way!” and “Hurry! You can make it!” they are giving each other now, trying to reach us, trying to reach whatever is promising hope in the face of death like this. There’s no way they’re all going to make it.

I try. I run for them, and start doing what Cu Chulainn was. I see him far on the right, doing the same. Trying to catch people before the light, and throw them back towards the circle of gold Mozart laid for us. I try the first few times to not hurt them, but as wave of nothing tears towards us and the seconds I have left fall to single digits, I give up and just exchange broken bones for the surety whatever this awful, oppressive, horrifying nothingness bearing down us is, won’t get them.

It is like nothing I have ever seen, or felt. I dash between parked cars and am too late—watch the nothing wash over a man with his arm outstretched towards me. I see the terror on his face as it gets him. I grab his hand and pull, praying, and he comes back out of the nothing but a feeling passes from his hand into mine like my head has been ripped out by the nerve endings at the base of my skull, and left empty, and for a moment, it has been. I forget to move, or think, and the wall erasing a world reaches for us, and something grabs the back of my collar, and I am flung backwards. I hit the ground, and my head resets—pained, but still there, still my own, and I see Kotarou land with the man I saved in his arms, looking as terrified as I feel. He gives me an arm and I’m back up with him, returning to the wall of nothing now with the surety that anyone I am too late to save, is facing a fate worse than death. Somewhere behind me, I am aware of Billy and David and Salieri doing the same in other directions, Doctor Archaman and Ritsuka shouting, and Emiya reciting the last line of Unlimited Blade Works.

I grab people I don’t take time to see. I move like I have never moved before, in those last two seconds.

Behind me, I hear Doctor Archaman’s voice shout, “Now!” and I hear Emiya’s voice call out ‘WORKS!’

There is a surge of mana. People are clustered so tightly, clinging to strangers. We see the emptiness of the world erasing around us, sky, city, people, life. And as it touches us, we don’t.

Amidst screams, the landscape changes, and the sky is wrong, but it is sky. Empty, unmoving clouds, and gears the size of skyscrapers. There is a sun overhead somewhere behind the haze, and sand beneath our feet. An empty, barren hill and plateau, littered with swords like the headstones of a graveyard.

We all wait, a moment, to see if it will take. Wait for the whiteness to crack inside the grey sky here. Waiting to die.

It does not.

The seconds pass from four, to twelve, and we realize it is not going to.

We are not dead.

At least, I realize, finding Emiya, sweating, breathing hard, raised hand still outstretched, As long as the phantasm lasts.

#The Kid (fic)#The Kid #fate grand order fic #fate fic #fate go au #fgo au #fate go au fic

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skellebonez · 3 years

Text

Happy Birthday Winter!

Hey @winterpower98 it's your birthday! I really hope you enjoy this, I know I had a ton of fun writing it for you! Actor AU is one of my favorite AUs you've made and coming back to play around with it again was a blast and a half!

Painter MK cackled, taking the brushes filled with bright pink paint into his fists.

“Yes, yes!” He exclaimed, brushing them against his cheeks and bringing another to run up the center of his face. “The art is-OW! OW, THE ART IS IN MY EYE!”

“Cut!” The director yelled, bringing the entire film production to a halt in an instant. “Xiaotian, what happened?”

The young actor dropped the paintbrushes into the hands of a stage worker to rushed over to help him, one hand covering his right eye as he tried to keep himself from laughing. “I think some of it splashed when I waved the brush at my face. I guess the art really IS-”

“Don’t say it,” Heshang said from the other side of the set, doing his best not to join his co-star in laughter.

“-seeping into my pores!”

The entire cast and crew groaned as Xiaotian cackled again, with a few added ows, before another stage hand came by with a bottle of water.

~3…2…1~

“Uh…” Xiaojiao pulled, attempting to pull the prop sword from above her head out of the wall only to be met with… a lot more resistance than should probably be there. “UH…? It’s stuck?”

She stood, attempting to pull it out normally only to be met with just as much resistance.

“It’s stuck!” She laughed, out, bracing a foot on the wall with no change.

“Let me try,” General Ironclad, or rather Red in the costume of General Ironclad for the episode, offered, attempting to do the same with the exact same result as his co-star. “What did you use to hold this in place? Cement!?”

“It should have only been stuck in with force!” A stage hand yelled as Xiaotian and Heshang joined in, both failing to pull the sword out from the false wall and Heshang nearly toppling over backwards with his additional costume pieces.

“Whoever stuck that in there needs to be moved to making sure the safety equipment stays connected!” Xiaotian offered, watching as even more people tried to remove the sword. “That is not coming out.”

~3…2…1~

Heshang held Mo in his arms, waltzing around the set as he waited for places to be called for with the shockingly content feline in his arms.

~3…2…1~

“You are selling beautiful vegetables today?” Pigsy said, leaning over the the display to give an awkward smile to the disguised Spider Queen.

Tang looked over the produce from where he knelt, looking back up at his companion with a concerned and confused look. “Are you… a-are-PFT-FUCK.”

Everyone on set burst into laughter as Tang did, both of his fellow actors holding back from laughing themselves.

“Why is it this line!?” Tang yelled in frustration as he continued laughing. “It’s not a hard line! I wrote this line! Why do I keep laughing at the last word!?”

“Maybe if Ganglie wasn’t making goo-goo eyes at me you’d keep straight face,” Zhi-Zhu Jing managed to get out through her laughter.

“That’d be the only thing straight about me.”

~3…2…1~

Dicky Cheung, or the actual Sun Wukong disguised as a human actor in full costume of himself, took a running leap and jumped onto the counter of Pigsy’s noodles, sliding to a perfect stop with a wink toward the camera.

~3…2…1~

“MK, there’s something I wanted to tell you…” Mei said, looking at MK with sparkles in her eyes before snickering. “Stop looking at me like that, it’s hard enough to keep a straight face during this scene!”

“Sorry!” Xiaotian yelled to the camera. “I can’t help it! How are Jin and Yin this wrong about these two in the show?”

“Himbos!” was the shouted answer from Tang at the other end of the set.

~3…2…1~

“One of the rare talents that no one knew the great Sun Wukong possessed…” Xiaojiao said ominously, camera panning over to Mr. Cheung in full costume. “Surprisingly good peach juggling!”

“Gotta keep myself occupied somehow!” The actor laughed out, catching two peaches in either hand while the last one was caught perfectly in his mouth to the applause of everyone watching.

~3…2…1~

“Thanks for the Key los-AH!”

Red flung his arms wildly, key flying into the air as Tie Shan rushed forward and caught him just before he face planted into the ground.

“Mine!” Mr. Cheung yelled as he caught the key mid air and rushed through the frame.

“YOU’RE NOT EVEN IN THIS EPISODE!”

~3…2…1~

“Thank you… for giving me all o-ooh, whoa!” Lui Er Mihou, or unbeknownst to nearly all Six-Eared Macaque in disguise much the same way as Sun Wukong was, yelped as the cable that was supposed to gently raise him and make him look like he was floating yoinked him as good 4 feet off the ground way too fast. “That’s too much power!”

“SORRY!” The line operator shouted, fiddling with the controls. “Someone loaded the weight setting for Xiaotian into your line instead of yours.”

“I already feel bad enough treating him like garbage and beating him up in this role, this is just rubbing salt in the wound,” Liu Er muttered, leaning back and swinging limply much to the amusement of everyone who couldn’t hear him before raising his voice. “When will my beloved friend Sun Wukong come to rescue me?”

“SPEAK MY NAME AND I SHALL APPEAR!”

Liu Er yelped in surprise as Mr. Cheung rushed in and grabbed him from beneath to hold him bridal style with a shit eating grin. He couldn't help the flush on his cheeks in response.

“HOW DO YOU KEEP SHOWING UP IN SHOTS WHEN YOU AREN’T SUPPOSED TO BE THERE YET!?” The director yelled with more than a little amusement in his voice despite the disruption.

~3…2…1~

“You!” DBK said, rounding on Red Son. “You have brought me nothing but failure! Time and time again! I keep telling you I… shit, I can’t remember the next line when you look that sad, I am so sorry.”

“Nothing but disappointment?” Red offered helpfully, immediately breaking out of his downcast somber gaze to the floor with a wide smile.

“It is scary how fast you get in and out of character sometimes, kid,” Niu Mowang laughed out, clearly resisting the urge to ruffle the younger actor’s hair lest he ruin the styling job that took far too long every time they got dressed.

~3…2…1~

The White Bone Spirit stood at the entrance to the Silken Web Cave, looking at the camera before far too much time passed from when she was supposed to say he line. She moon walked backwards out of the frame without changing her expression one bit as the other actors devolved into cackles.

~3…2…1~

“The Year of the Spider starts tonight!” Spider Queen proclaimed from her high vantage point before she muttered something under her breathe, narrowing her gaze and then looking off to the side. “Or next year ‘cause I don’t remember my line.”

~3…2…1~

Huntsman slowly lowered into frame, upside down and gripping the rigging holding him up like Spiderman.

~3…2…1~

“Oh yeah?” Sun Wukong said, appearing in frame as he walked down the wall MK was embedded in. He grabbed his staff, yanking it out of the wall and jumped down and smacked the wall with it.

… only for it to go through the wall once again and crack it. Or, rather, the false wall that was on a tilted angle to make it look like he was talking down it, rather than a heavily slanted floor.

“I’m sorry!” Mr. Cheung yelled, looking at the damage he caused. “I must have hit at weak spot!”

He hoped no one noticed that when MK offered to get the prop staff for this shot and put it into the wall… he grabbed the real one by accident.

~3…2…1~

Nui Mowang held the little bird that was Wukong’s transformation stand in for one of the final scenes, gently petting the little head with a big goofy smile on his face.

~END~

The entire cast sat around on various travel tables right outside the small Lunar New Year Festival set they had set up, various extras that had answered the open invitation for the shoot going about and getting the free food that was available at the functional stalls provided by the catering they had hired.

It was an odd sight to see Red Son and Spider Queen and Sun Wukong and everyone else sitting around together, but Liu Er Mihou being there outside of his Macaque costume broke the illusion a little bit.

It was the final day of shooting for the season 2 opening special to Monkie Kid, Revenge of the Spider Queen, and everyone was there. Even people who didn’t have to come in wanted to give a temporary farewell to Tie Shan, Nui Mowang, and Red before season 2 proper began shooting. There was still a chance they could bebcalled in for bit roles, the scripts weren’t entirely finished yet, but as far as anyone knew the Demon Bull Family wasn’t going to be returning properly any time soon.

Maybe in season 3, Tang had teased, holding the begun scripts for that in his little tablet away from prying eyes. And they were always welcome to help out in bit roles, background characters or voice over or to use their other talents to work other jobs that were needed around the set.

But even before then it would be a while.

And so that’s how Red found himself sandwiched between Long Xiaojiao and Qi Xiaotian, with the newly added member of their quartet in her full White Bone Spirit costume hanging over his shoulder to watch the compilation that Xiaojiao had expertly edited on her phone for them all.

“The director gave me permission to use whatever I wanted and I though that… maybe we could all have it for ourselves,” Xiaojiao offered, pulling up the wireless transfer option on her phone. “To watch when we miss each other being on set together. I know we’re going to probably be back together with Red Son eventually! But…”

“I’ll miss shooting with you too,” Red said smiling softly as he pulled out his own phone to accept the file. “Hopefully Mr. Tang isn’t just teasing us about season 3.”

#monkie kid #lego monkie kid #fanfic #gen fic #actor au #ensemble cast #shadowpeach #(hinted)#scheduled

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carryonthroughtheages · 3 years

Text

Hello everyone!

Another year of Carry On Through The Ages is over and done! We have emotions and exhaustion, but we're so happy that this year had the hype and excitement that it did.

Thank you, from the bottom of our hearts, to all of the AMAZING creators who spent the last several months working away at their historical content!

Thank you also to the hard-working mods: @bazzybelle, @giishu, @palimpsessed, and @xivz . This fest would not have been as successful as it has been without you!

We encourage everyone to look under the page break for all the fics and art. They're all fantastic!

Here is the link to the AO3 Collection: Carry On Through The Ages 2021!

Thank you all, and until next year! 🧡🧡🧡

MONDAY:

1) sun on the sea (T) - @trenchcoat-moth : AO3 // Tumblr

Tensions run high in England, and Malcolm decides it's for the best he sends Baz to live with Fiona, where he'll be safer.

That is, until Baz's ship is attacked.

2) The Words I Long To Say (M) - @bazzybelle : AO3 // Tumblr

Simon Snow was dead.

Baz Pitch was sure of it. Simon had gone away seven years ago to fight a war in the jungle and he hadn't come home.

So, when Simon shows up in Baz's club, investigating a string of brutal murders, all Baz wants to do is hold him close and never let him go.

But these aren't the same boys from 1960 and Baz has a lot of processing to do before he's ready to believe in Simon again.

3) we are slaves to gods, whatever gods are (M) - @wellbelesbian : AO3 // Tumblr

I don’t fully understand what plagues him, but I know it’s bad, and I know it goes deeper than guilt. He didn’t want to kill his father, not really, but we were instructed to do so by Apollo. Cleanse the house of its sins, dispose of a murderer to set things right. It was only right that I join him; he was avenging my mother as much as his. Clearly, Apollo didn’t seem to consider that such an act would make Simon a murderer in his father’s place. It seems I got off fine, but as far as Simon is concerned, the vengeful spirits that once spun and danced on the roof of the palace now hunt him down, determined not to stop until he rids the world of himself.

4) World War II Era Art - @stardustasincocaine : Tumblr

TUESDAY:

1) the art of loving you (E) - @one-more-offbeat-anthem : AO3 // Tumblr

1955. London. Young love.

Forbidden love.

A year ago, starving artist Simon Snow met Baz Pitch, son of a wealthy art patron, at a party, and their days (and nights) together have been a wonderful secret.

But Simon is tired of being a secret and knows it's time for things to end.

(Baz has other ideas.)

2) Reliquary of an Arsonist (T) - @tea-brigade : AO3 // Tumblr

Simon Snow grew up a ward of Watford Abbey, but when his magic manifested in an explosive accident as a child, he became the Abbey’s anchorite—never to leave Watford’s walls, for his own protection. That is, until Abbot David sends him on an important errand…

Basilton Pitch paints portraits for his patron, Lord Grimm. But he’s never forgotten the magic he learned from his mother—nor the men who condemned her to death as a heretic. When Simon arrives and offers Baz a commission from Watford Abbey, he sees his chance to avenge his mother once and for all...and he’s willing to burn down everything in his path to that end.

But it was no coincidence that pulled these two unlikely souls together. Something more sinister is underway at Watford Abbey, and only Simon and Baz can uncover the truth before everything goes up in flames.

3) Westward Son (E) - @aristocratic-otter : AO3 // Tumblr

Simon and Baz have found each other again, but there's nowhere in Brooklyn or Virginia where they can safely be together. So now, they venture the hazards and struggles of the Oregon trail, to perhaps find a little homestead in Oregon of their own.

4) A Way Out (T) - @lying-on-the-sofa : AO3

I frown at him..“You don’t know me.”

He offers his hand. “Simon.”

Simon. I feel the name around in my mind and assign it to his face. Simon. I don’t shake his hand. They’ve still got my arms pinned. “Basilton.”

Simon nods at me. “Now we know each other. Let him go.” Very casually, he takes his other hand from behind his back. A sword, flashing. He leans on it and smiles invitingly. “Let him go.”

This time, they listen.

Simon Snow has been trained for years to become a tribute—one of the fighters Athens sends every ninth year into the Minotaur’s labyrinth. He wants to know the way out, if only for Penny’s sake. Luckily for him, Prince Basilton of Crete also wants a way out—off the island, where no one will know he’s the half-brother of the Minotaur.

Unluckily for both of them, they don’t exactly form the most agreeable pair.

WEDNESDAY

1) long is the road the leads me home (G) - @wellbelesbian : AO3 (Version 1) (Version 2) // Tumblr

Baz has a rather unremarkable life, and he's fine with that. Running his late mother's beloved inn with his temperamental aunt, estranged from his father and step-siblings, he's successfully convinced himself that he's better off without attachments.

Then Simon barrels into his life, guns blazing and rapier drawn, and Baz is swept up in dramatic plot he never bargained for.

Worse still, he finds he quite likes the thrill.

2) New Romantics (T) - @ninemagicks : AO3 // Tumblr

Basilton Pitch, twenty-two years old and a famed poet of the Romantic era, has fled to the countryside. In Mummers House, the fabled haunt of literary greats, he sulks himself into oblivion and awaits a sad, disappointing end to his brief years of brilliance. The cause of his downfall? None other than Simon Snow, the so-called “bad boy of English poetry”, breaker of rules and eternal thorn in his side. Baz hopes that Mummers House might mean an escape from London, from Snow and his increasingly virulent popularity... but the rain that comes has other ideas.

3) thnétos (T) - @snowybank : AO3 // Tumblr

thnétos: subject to death, mortal

a retelling of Apollo and Hyacinthus

4) A Medieval AU art piece - @thewriterxj : Tumblr

THURSDAY

1) From Eden (E) - @orange-peony : AO3 // Tumblr

I wonder if his skin is warm or cold to the touch. I tell myself it’s simple curiosity, that I’m an artist and capturing things on paper or canvas is my way to make sense of the world. That drawing him feels so natural, so I should just follow my instincts. Ebb used to say it all the time. Follow your heart. It knows where you’re supposed to go.

I wish I could. I wish I had enough money and freedom to just draw what I want. To paint him in his unattainable beauty. To draw him the way I want to. Naked and vulnerable, raw. Without frills and expensive suits.

Just Baz on paper, my fingers tracing his delicate and beautiful lines with simple charcoal.

2) Slings and Eros (M) - @palimpsessed : AO3 // Tumblr

Young god of love Simonides is tasked by his father, the god of war, to bring about the ruin of a mortal prince to punish his blasphemy. However, once Simonides sees his intended victim, he begins to have misgivings. Prince Tyrannus might have offended the gods with his very existence, but all Simonides can see is how beautiful and lonely he is.

Or, a very loose interpretation of the Eros and Psyche myth.

3) I Don't Want to Set the World on Fire (M) - @knitbelove : AO3 // Tumblr

September 1940: Going back to Watford feels different this year, and not just because England is at the brink of war with Germany and Italy. Penelope seems unsettled by everything, and Agatha is distant, and Baz is … simply not here.

What if Carry On but during the Blitz?? Yeah.

4) A Fool's Oath (M) - @thewriterxj : AO3 // Tumblr

A simple soldier is invited to join the ranks of the royal guard. He and his appointed mage arrive at the royal city to find themselves at the mercy of an unmerciful court. As he struggles to find his place in this foreign environment, he also finds himself entranced by music that only he seems to hear that floats out about the city. He makes an oath to wed whoever makes such beautiful music.

Too bad that person is the crown prince.

FRIDAY

1) Stranger Tides (T) - @tea-brigade & @xivz : AO3 // Tumblr

“If some god shall wreck me in the wine-dark deep, even so I will endure…” Captain Simon Snow of the Chosen One is many things—cunning, handsome, ruthless. Greedy. It’s no surprise that Snow finds a way to piss off the God of the Sea, he always manages to get himself into some type of trouble. This time, however, he’s not the only one who will suffer the consequences. Poseidon promises to not stop his pursuit until Snow and all of his men are dead.

Enter Basilton Pitch—rich, beautiful, mysterious. Suspicious. He offers the crew of the Chosen One a hefty sum to take him back to Europe from the Caribbean. And who is Captain Snow to refuse so much coin? After all, Greek gods aren’t real.

Right?

2) The wayward heir [comic] (M) - @letraspal : AO3 // Tumblr

Like a folk song, our love will be passed on. Simon Snow wants to be an artist. He used to live in Fiesole where he worked in the wool shop of his good friend Ebeneza Petty. He has now chosen to return to his native Florence in order to participate in an art contest hosted by the Pitch family, the most important bankers in all the three continents and Simon’s last chance for an art patronage. No matter how much he hates them.

But being back in Florence also brings back the memories Simon wanted to leave behind : his days as an orphan, the mystery about his mother, and once more being under the inquisitive eyes of his godfather, the new archbishop Davy. The archbishop is very same man who would never forgive him for dropping out the priesthood and ruining his secret plans against the Pitches.

The last thing Simon needed was an unbearably handsome jerk getting him into trouble on his very first day in Florence. How can focus when this man is the most annoying person he has ever met and yet his major source of inspiration.

3) Prohibition Blues (T) - @heyyyandrea : AO3

Simon Snow is a baker and aspiring playwright in Prohibition Era New York City. When he meets a handsome man at Shepherd's speakeasy who is interested in his work, he can't help but think it feels too good to be true.

4) Earth Below & Sky Above (M) - @phoxphyre : AO3 // Tumblr

In the depth of the palace of King Minos of Crete lurks a creature known as the Minotaur.

Baz, prince of Athens and chosen of the god Poseidon, has heard the stories. And now he’s volunteered to come to Crete as one of the annual tributes—to dance with the king’s bulls and fulfill his destiny. He just wants to survive the bulls, protect his people, and go home.

But what if the Minotaur isn’t a monster—but just a boy? And what if instead of slaying him, Baz fell in love with him?

A Carry On retelling of the myth of Theseus and the Minotaur, set in Bronze Age Crete.

5) A 1980s AU Art piece by @stardustasincocaine : Tumblr // Instagram (Slightly NSFW)

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idiotwhotalkstoomuch · 3 years

Text

I never expected you guys to like demon Senjuro so much lol I’m really happy to see that like it was such a random impulse thought but the au has a lot of room for growth

In this post Im gonna establish a few things about what happened to Senjuro and Kyojuro in the events between Senjuro’s “death” and the pillar meeting. I will only cover their relationship and a little bit of Senjuro’s relationship with Tanjiro. The others can come at a different post cause this post is gonna be long lol so I put it under cut cause no one really wants a post to flood their dash

TW: Mentions of death (some are children), mentions of cannibalism (If you’ve seen even the first episode of demon slayer and had no problem, you’re fine with this post. This post is slightly not anime only friendly as I make references to an upper moon and I show a manga only panel as of posting this) Shnjuro gets really depressed but luckily there is no attempted suicide

Senjuro Rengoku

- His class was at the bottom floor and they were cleaning the school (I heard thats a thing in Japan if someone has a better idea on what they’re doing feel free to shoot an ask) when they got attacked

- In canon we dont know his age but I’m gonna guess like 12-14 but in the au he is 13 so he was 12 when he became a demon. A rogue demon attacked Senjuro’s class and Senjuro ran to get help and was fatally injured but still managed run to get help as he was given a nichirin sword and even if it didnt change color he must have known breathing techniques at the very least on a basic level and the demon was too preoccupied with some of the teachers and others trying to kill the demon, of course unaware of what it was except for Senjuro

- Upper moon 4 was sneaking around when he saw the all but dead body of Senjuro and demons really dont have standards for turning people into demons so when he noticed he was alive, turned him into a demon mostly so that if he did find any “evil people” (demon slayers) he could use him as his meat shield alongside his personalities

- When Senjuro woke up as a demon (cause even if he was a breath user he was very inexperienced so Hantengu had no problem making him a demon), he had no memory of his life as a human and looked around trying to find a human to satiate his hunger and saw a human in the distance with someone and began to run to them to satiate his hunger when he felt himself being held back.

- The spirit of Ruka Rengoku gently held her son back and instructed him to not eat humans as that’s not something he should do and even if Senjuro couldn’t recognize the woman holding him back, he found himself obeying her and running to go to a place to hide from the sun

- From that moment on for a few day he would hop from place to place whether underneath homes, in caves or any place he could find to avoid being seen and to be shielded from the sun and found himself growing sleepy so in the cave he hid in, far away from the place he was last in, he closed his eyes and fell asleep for a year

- When he woke up, he had unwittingly burnt away Muzan’s control of him and was unsure on what to do when Ruka’s spirit appeared again telling him that he needs to find his way home. Senjuro wasn’t actually listening to a lot of what she said except one thing stuck to him.

- “Senjuro”, he didn’t know what his name was as a demon but the name seem to stick to him and he figured this must be his name (he would of course be correct)

- When he found himself staying with the Kamaboko squad, having been spared despite being a demon due to him not having any form of aggression to them (something they all noticed due to his general demeanor and their enhanced sense) and Tanjiro could smell he hadnt eaten one human and he invited him to join them. He joined Nezuko in her box (she can grow really really tiny if she wants or is tired)

Reference:

Kny chapter 85

- He joined for two reasons: One, he was really scared of people and demon slayers especially so when Tanjiro offered him the chance to be able to be safe and hide he took it. Secondly, he wasn’t sure but the smile Tanjiro gave and his warm reassurance reminded of him of someone, when he thought hard he only saw blurry shadows and got a headache so didn’t try to push it

- Tanjiro did ask him in the wisteria house while Zenitsu was chatting with Nezuko and Inosuke was off being Inosuke about his past and Senjuro told him about his brief meetings with a woman with black hair and asks if they’ve met before as he feels familiar

- This is where he gets the idea that the woman with black hair (Ruka) is his mother and Tanjiro guesses that the person that he thinks is Tanjiro must be his father (right on the first part Tanjiro but wrong on the second lol, you tried)

- He wears a cyan yukata with a new hakama pants as the clothes he was previously wearing was the same bloodstained clothes he wore after turning into a demon and Tanjiro didnt want to leave him in that. Tanjiro thought to get him a gag but the idea made Senjuro uncomfortable so Tanjiro made him swear to never eat a single human

- In Mount Nagatumo, he was too scared to jump out to protect Tanjiro like Nezuko but when she gets sliced up he leaves the box to watch her while Tanjiro fights Rui, unfortunately he is caught in Rui’s webs like Nezuko and was saved from it by Nezuko flames (though it did burn him a fair bit, Nezuko would apologize to him for this later)

- Giyuu doesn’t kill Senjuro cause his resemblance to Kyojuro despite the different clothes and demon eyes is clear to anyone who can see and Shinobu also finds herself hesitating but shakes those feelings off as Kyojuro deserves better than to see his little brother as a demon. Luckily Giyuu stops him and Senjuro runs with Nezuko and Tanjiro but is later taken back to the demon slyer corps by a Kakushi who put him and Nezuko back in their box

- When Sanemi stabbed the box, he moved to try and protect Nezuko but the box was too cramped and they both got stabbed despite his efforts. Later when he tries to bait him with his marechi blood, he’s too focused on resisting the blood and on Nezuko who he had grown to see as a sister to care about the wide eyed looks the pillars were giving him.

Kyojuro Rengoku (I am so sorry in advance Kyojuro simps I put this man THROUGH IT)

- He had just finished a mission and was going to get another mission when a crow he hadn’t seen work in years came flying to him, obviously panicked telling him how Senjuro’s school was attacked and how no one can find Senjuro among the bodies. The crow was Shinjuro’s

- When he hears that, all the kakushi and other demon slayers present would say they had never seen the flame pillar run so frantically, he only stopped to apologize briefly if he bumped into someone while running but the only thing racing in his mind was his little brother who had no weapon to defend himself with. He forced the image of his brother being nothing but a corpse away only thinking about saving Senjuro

- When he reached the school, he forced himself to calm down. Panicking isn’t going to magically bring Senjuro to him so he needs to keep himself in check because with so many people dead, he’s not the only one concerned over the kids

- There were no survivors on the area that was attacked, the police were there investigating the deaths of the many children and teachers, Kyojuro had to spend time convincing the police he was with them and to be allowed to investigate as well

- With no survivors, he heard from the police that there was a blood trail when they got there and he went to find the trail, when he reached the end of it where there were no traces of Senjuro but since the people there were untrained civilians, Senjuro was the only possible person to have been there

- He spent multiple days searching, Mitsuri was at one point sent to check on him and it was clear he was pushing himself, as days passed by, his composure and bright demeanor were crumbling and he started latching onto any lead to at the very least find the body of Senjuro to take back home but it was becoming clear that he would never find it and a kakushi had to be the one to tell him that his body was likely eaten to the bone or eaten and discarded to either rot away or eaten by someone else

- Kyojuro took a week off, not just because of the grief he felt at that moment but because he needed to check on his father and make sure he would be okay, the man didn’t even face Kyojuro when he came in to visit, he forced himself to not cry in front of his father as he tried to talk to the man who couldn’t even say a word and just drank away even as his eldest son tried to talk to him

- Servants were hired to monitor Shinjuro by Kyojuro as he was concerned about his health both physically and mentally but he did notice how Shinjuro never resisted to being taken care of by the people he hired. They reported to him he could be heard muttering Senjuro’s name and even stares at his room for extended periods of time

- When he made his return, he apologized to the pillars for his behavior the past two weeks (even though no one blamed the man, some even said it was okay if he needed more time, they wouldn’t judge) but whenever he was told that he said he had to be strong to protect the weak so he could be someone that could stop families from ending up like his own

- He was far more determined in killing demons, demon attacks had become personal to him now, whenever he saw a demon eating people he found himself wondering what they must’ve thought in the afterlife as the demon desecrated their bodies

- In the pillar meeting, when he was informed of a swordsman who travelled with not one but two demons, he felt disgust as who knows how many humans they could eat. On the way to the meeting, he couldn’t help but notice Shinobu deliberately avoiding him a bit, Giyuu was doing the same but the man never really talked with them much to begin with

- When he saw Senjuro go out of the box with Nezuko, he felt the smile on his face drop and his heart practically sunk to the core of the earth as he saw the unmistakable hair of a Rengoku and the face was so clearly Senjuro’s despite his eyes having a black sclera and his iris and pupil becoming cat like, the pillars had all turned to see if the flame pillar was alright and he could hear Himejima mutter prayers and Mitsuri was on the verge of tears seeing Senjuro alive but as a demon

- He found himself going into denial until Tanjiro, who had been freed as Obanai left to comfort the distressed love pillar, ran and yelled Senjuro’s name and told him to resist his hunger

- “My sister and the other demon with us are different! They would never eat a human!”

- Senjuro was a good kid, he was innocent, kind and a bit on the timid side. He had helped raise him, he knew Senjuro would never want to harrm a fellow human even when threatened.

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mssirey · 3 years

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More SuperReign Knights AU!! (A follow up to this)

The rains had mercifully held off for the summer games, but were not so gracious as their duel—called a draw the day before to keep them from taking the whole fairgrounds down around them—resumed in the training yard. There was no ceremonial garb to be concerned with and after the sun had been on their skin all morning, the rain was almost welcome.

The singing of their blades was momentarily drowned out by calls to clear out—lessons abandoned around them—and the disgruntled shouts of curses at any god that might listen as hungover knights stumbled for shelter. But all it took was one glance while their swords locked to know that Kara had no interest in postponing the conclusion of their duel.

The challenge that always managed to define them—both the tie that connected them and the bounds of what they were—reared its head in the fires she saw in Kara’s eyes, just as it had shaped her words the night before. Sam could still feel the imprint of Kara’s weight in her lap; the way her knees caught against the outsides of Sam’s legs; the way she relaxed back; the smell of her hair—it refused to leave her, but she couldn’t find a hint of its meaning, or its mirror, in Kara.

The other knight wasn’t as graceful as Sam knew her to be capable of—her parries sloppy, her timing off by a hair—but Sam was too sluggish to press that advantage, the night’s ale lingering enough in her system to dull her reflexes. But they fell into step, following the familiar dance between them, the ring of their blades clashing joined by the patter of rain on soft soil.

As the skies grew darker and the rain came down in sheets, they were left without witnesses—no one to judge a victor—and still they continued. Sam tried to steer Kara towards a slick stretch of mud, swinging in a wide arch—allowed herself to be predictable, easily avoidable if Kara stepped correctly—and then a turn of her grip would allow her to follow with more aggression, push the other knight back, direct her to where her footing would be compromised.

Kara was sharper than Sam gave her credit, already noting the shift in the terrain—a lesson both J’onn and Alex had been sure to drill into her and the others in her class—and she knew to disengage, to take stock of their surroundings. “You’re going to have to do better than that,” she called as she put a few paces between them, competing with the shower to make her voice carry across the yard.

Just as Sam felt the water running down her neck and beneath her leathers, Kara’s short hair was getting flattened, falling over her eyes. A quick swipe pushed it back in a messy sweep and still more rain coaxed it forward again. They were both blinking, adjusting to the rivulets that streaked their faces, each testing their grips with a few easy swings, knowing that it was only a matter of time before it was hard to keep a handle on their blades.

The rain was hard enough to distort the image of Kara, and perhaps that was for the best as her tunic clung to her abs beneath the line of where her leather chest guard cut off. It had never been quite so distracting and Sam couldn’t bring herself to examine the interest her eyes showed.

“You can forfeit here,” she offered, a laugh forced from her lungs to cover how the words had teetered on her tongue, nearly tumbling from her lips to die in the gathering mud. “I wouldn’t hold it against you.

“Never!”

It was always the same. Kara never chose to back down, and it had been thrilling to have someone who wanted to cross blades, who took every chance to stand opposite her despite the names she had been given—Black Reign the one that had stuck, shortened eventually to Reign. Most young knights feared her, would bow out of duels or take early falls to avoid truly testing her, but not Kara.

Kara. The golden knight of high noble birth, who could have easily chosen to be a knight in name only, but who instead stood fiercely behind the codes she upheld. The woman who was bright in spirit and wit; who could turn a room with both action and song; who was greeted by everyone, but also took the time to greet in turn—even those whose voices were lost in the crowd or those who struggled to get anyone to meet their eye.

Kara was the one who sought Sam, relentless and insistent, and through her Sam found it easier to hold her blade proudly. She enjoyed the rivalry they shared, but somewhere along the line it had become something different… or perhaps she wanted it to and instead it remained just that. She couldn’t decipher it, couldn’t understand it.

And so Sam leaned into what she knew. She strode forward to close the distance between them, boots already feeling the suction of fresh mud, careful to watch the turn of Kara’s grip and the shift of her weight, to check which foot was planted.

“Come on, Sam, don’t hold back!”

Only Kara could demand something so boldly and genuinely want it. It was foolish, brash, but also welcome.

Sam let the fire caged in her chest bleed into her arm, dropped her grip to the one hand and swung, hard enough to crack bone through armor. She trusted Kara to know how to handle it, her heart rising with the shriek of her blade dragging down the length of Kara’s as the angle directed her momentum away from the other knight.

Kara shouldered her to the side, tried to unbalance her, to find an opening after her aggression, but her own footing made quick maneuvers tricky. They danced apart, righted their stances and then circled, each watchful for any slip.

Sam’s blade was longer and heavier, and she knew the bones in Kara’s hands and forearms would feel the sting of each clash, until numbness reached her shoulder. If she could keep Kara at a distance, keep her on the defensive, it would only be a matter of time before she couldn’t hold her arm up.

But Kara knew that as well as she did, knew to not let her control the pace. So to provoke Sam meant she was studying, gauging how steady her blade was in the rain and how fast her swing. She needed to know the windows of opportunity, and Sam couldn’t let her learn them.

Sam charged, put her body behind her blade and caught the twist of Kara’s grin--a brief glimpse as she was sidestepped--the revelry at her full effort setting her heart out of rhythm. She couldn’t understand what joy Kara got out of it, but that smile made her knees unsteady.

They continued, going even with what Kara redirected and what she avoided, each stumbling and slipping more and more as the earth soaked up the rain, until Kara found the opening she was looking for.

Sam got too close and the pommel of Kara’s sword came down on her hand, wrenched her blade from her, and if she had been steady enough to get away, Sam would have lost. But favor turned, and Sam swept her feet out from under her, gratified by the wet impact as Kara’s back hit the ground.

Sam kicked her sword from her grip and took advantage of the knight’s struggle for breath, getting over her and pinning her arms.

“You look good on your back.”

Sam said it in the spirit of competition, but the hitch of Kara’s breath and the flutter of her lashes brought the possible meaning into glaring focus, the realization painted in broad strokes across her skin. A splatter of mud touched Kara’s cheek and Sam released her wrist to gently brush it away, her gloved thumb lingering after, hovering, drawn by a yet unnamed force towards parted lips.

Sam’s hand sank into the mud by Kara’s head, braced as she felt the pull of her own heart, the gravity that called her towards the other knight. The rain added the barest gleam to Kara’s lips, enough to keep her gaze trained and narrowed in.

She watched as Kara’s lips moved, formed around words she didn’t speak, tried to guess what she might say—if it would be a remark about how she should move from where she straddled the other knight. She hoped that wasn't what Kara wanted, but the peek of tongue she witnessed kept her from truly considering the consequences.

Sam leaned down, only to pause, her breath heavy as it shuddered from her lungs. Her cheeks burned hot, the rain on her neck not enough to cool her. She didn’t catch Kara’s fingers as they slipped into her leathers, at the opening for her arms, but the tug overcame the last of her hesitation, and she let herself fall into the cushion of those lips, to taste the heat that scorched its way through her skull and licked down her spine.

There was no reason to be found. No question to be answered. Sam knew how to follow instinct, how to let her body move for her, and so when her mind sought haven in the comfort of the other woman’s presence, her tongue pressed for what it wanted, drank deeply as Kara met her with just as much desire, a groan spilling into her mouth.

A boom of thunder drew them apart, laughing and breathy.

“This isn’t defeat,” Kara panted, and then her face pinched into that endearingly regretful expression she got when she tripped over her own tongue, her ears bright red.

Sam exhaled a laugh. “It never is with you,” she noted with a shake of her head.

#knights au #superreign #kara danvers #sam arias #mssirey #my writing

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thebigqueer · 3 years

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Ok, here we go. Dark!Bianca idea. Shortly after the events in the desert, a severely injured Bianca is found by agents of the Titans who were shadowing the quest party off-page. She is brought back to Titan HQ and is convinced to join their crusade against the gods while her friends and family think she's dead. Jump ahead to BotL, instead of Kelli the Empousa, it is a mysterious masked assassin who attacks Percy and Rachel at Goode. The events mostly play out unchanged until Geryon's (1/8)

ranch, where instead of Bianca, it is the ghost of Maria di Angelo who is revealed to be sending Iris messages to Percy about Nico, while also strongly hinting that Bianca's still alive. Jump ahead to Mt St. Helens, Percy fights the assassin again, and during his stint on Ogygia, Percy begins to put two and two together after the assassin demonstrated skills similar to the Hunters. At Antaeus' Arena, the assassin is finally unmasked to reveal a still-alive but scarred Bianca, replacing (2/8)

Ethan Nakamura as the demigod enforcer. Percy is convinced that Bianca is being mind-controlled and goes to Mt Tam to rescue her as well as stop Kronos. However, when he confronts her, Bianca reveals that she's operating of her own free will, feeling vengeful against the gods for robbing her of her life and having pledged her loyalty to her new Titan master. Kronos intends to make Bianca the prophesy kid, promising her the free will she craves so badly as well as promising not to hurt (3/8)

Nico. Going into the Last Olympian, Percy and Nico are both determined to convince Bianca that she's making a mistake, and this time Nico's duplicity is not to simply learn about his mother but to try and summon her spirit to get through to Bianca. At the same time, Kronos gradually starts treating Bianca as less of an ally and more of a tool, and the Titans' actions cause her to have doubts even though she dosen't know what else to do. It all comes to a head in the final battle.(4/8)

Nico returns from the Underworld by himself early, giving Hades an ultimatum to come and fight or hide. Just before the final attack, Kronos sends Bianca to infiltrate Olympus to disable the magic defenses, but Nico arrives to intercept her and make one last bid to save her. They fight, with both begging the other to stand down even as they slug it out. Finally, just as Percy arrives to chase Kronos, the battered siblings' duel ends when Nico gives another ultimatum. He throws down his (5/8)

sword and gives Bianca, now reduced to fear and frustration-induced tears, the choice between perusing her grudge and allowing herself to continue being Kronos’s slave or doing the right thing. Finally able to make a legitimate choice of her own, Bianca chooses to turn her back on the Titans. She still ends up wounded, but unlike Ethan in canon, Nico manages to save his sister while Percy and Kronos have their final battle. After everything ends, Percy petitions for Bianca’s pardon along (6/8)

with the rest of his list, though Bianca turns it down, realizing the harm she almost caused to the person she loved more than anybody else. She is given a reduced sentence in service to her father, and though she does not properly forgive any of the gods that hurt her, she does recognize that the spite and anger she felt would only lead to more death. Nico gets to visit her occasionally, and she starts a road to redemption that Luke never got the chance to take. In HoO, Bianca is (7/8)

more of a background character, but it is she that finds Hazel in Asphodel and alerts Nico to her. Overall, dark!Bianca is an anti-villain who’s affiliation with Kronos is clearly drawn from her pain and grief over the gods’ interference in her life, but her saving grace is her brother. Nico manages to pull her out of the darkness and save her from becoming the same monster Luke became. What do you think? (bear in mind, this is my rough draft) (8/8)

Okay, WOW. Anon, I am actually going to start a petition to make you the new Percy Jackson author because that was such an interesting plot to read.

First of all, I love that you replaced Bianca with Ethan. As interesting as he was in the series, and as much as I loved his character, after reading through your rough draft, I feel like Bianca would have been a much better character to use throughout PJO. Her arc could have been expanded upon and completed thoroughly, and it could have made a lot of sense. Ethan felt more like a representation of "demigods turned to the other side," which I get is the point, but I loved the way you used Bianca because with your plot, her character could have been used so well to properly show how easily the Titan army manipulated kids.

Furthermore, I feel like your plot with Bianca could have been a much better way to use her character throughout the series. From my interpretation, in canon she seemed more like a stand-in tool just to enhance Nico's own character arc and his motives, but your plot for her would have actually given her some kind of foundation and an actual arc for her to go through. You've given her such an interesting character and I think it really provides more justice to what she could have been.

I also love the way that not only did you give her a better arc, but you also enhanced Nico's own arc and the plot, too. Her death in the books seemed more symbolic to him and a turning point in his character, but with her character in your AU, it's both important to Nico and Bianca. You've given her an actual character, and you've set up such an interesting conflict between Nico and Bianca.

Additionally, I love the divide you've created between them. I think that - based on what we know about her in the books - as much as she loves her brother, Bianca also feels very limited with him because of how she's been forced to grow up and be his savior. She understands that he's only a child, though, which I think could also play into her own hatred for the gods - they've not only destroyed her family, but now they're forcing her to take the role of an adult when she's a mere child, too? She was never angry at Nico - she was only ever mad with the gods.

Maybe that's something that Nico also feels bad about, and maybe he tells her about it when they're standing each other down. Maybe she lets him know that she never hated him or felt that he was bringing her down.

Also, I want to add that I adore the way you put them on opposite sides. It sets up such an interesting dynamic to their relationship because here you have two people who love each other so much, but they're on two different sides of a large war. They're both too stubborn to go onto each other's sides, and Nico knows Bianca's only going to get herself into more danger. I just love the potential that has for both of their characters.

I know Percy had a large fear about Nico being another kid to join Kronos' army, so I bet Bianca being on his team would have left Percy incredibly terrified for Nico, too, because he knew how much Nico loved Bianca. Would he have been nervous for Nico's ability to change his mind? Nico knows he'd never join Kronos, but would Percy have known?

And, knowing that Bianca's now on the Kronos side, how would Percy react? Because he felt pretty guilty about her death in TTC, right? Would he feel guilty that she's on the other side now, too? Would he try to reason with her, only to push her further away? I'd love to see how Percy would deal with knowing that Bianca - an important child of the Big Three - would react to her being there. He was already nervous about Nico joining sides, but having Bianca there would have really scared him.

And the part about Bianca finding Hazel instead of Nico? That was mind-blowing. I love everything about that situation because now that introduces Hazel into the narrative of Nico and Bianca's story. My question for you would be how does Hazel's character change now? How does she fit in with Nico and Bianca? Because in Heroes of Olympus she's clearly very insecure about her relationship with Nico and how he views her, but if she actually knew Bianca, how would she feel? Would she feel more left out (knowing that Bianca and Nico have known each other much longer and have a stronger connection with each other)? Would she be distrustful? And how would the three of them adapt to this additional family member? I have high hopes that by the end they would all love each other very much, but I'm just really curious into how Hazel's addition would influence the dynamic of all three.

And, essentially, it all ends into a somewhat win-win situation. Bianca's still living; Nico's got two new sisters; Hazel now has a new family.

I think this is such an interesting concept, and I'd love to read it. If you ever post it anywhere, please do share the link! This was such an intriguing plot to go through and, again, I think this could have been a much better use of Bianca's character.

Thank you so much for sharing it with me.

#WOW #I seriously wish you had a Tumblr because I just know you would post the most interesting takes #anon tag #asks #pjo meta #nico di angelo #bianca di angelo #hazel levesque #rick riordan #riordanverse #nico di angelo headcanon #bianca di angelo headcanon #hazel levesque headcanon #riordanverse headcanon #pjo #percy jackson and the olympians #heroes of olympus #hoo

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bitsandbobsofwriting · 3 years

Text

Soulmate AU part 3: The teenagers slowly become adults;

Leon is endlessly proud of his kids (he’s long accepted that he’s a dad of three unruly teenagers now, and shares custody with Gwen and Hunith, the only other sensible ones), and Morgana and Merlin are abruptly made aware of their new... role(s).

Part 1 Part 2 Part 4

All of their birthdays pass in the next few months. Of course, Arthur’s and Morgana’s come with big celebrations, insisted on by Uther (I mean... Morgana had just come of age, and Arthur was the Prince, can you blame him?), but the gang put on mini celebrations just for them in the evenings.

Everyone got everyone gifts, and they spent as much time together during the birthdays as they could, even Gaius and Hunith joining them when they had time.

Leon was quickly climbing the ranks within the Knights, and was the youngest to be granted the title of captain at just 23, which gave him little more control over his own schedule. He worked incredibly hard, was a good teacher, and never took advantage of his post, so his fellow knights didn’t mind so much when he gave himself the occasional day off, for his kid’s birthdays.

The other knights had definitely picked up an Leon’s... older brother instincts when it came to The Prince, The Ward, The Servant, and The Physician’s Apprentice, and ribbed him mercilessly for it, but he didn’t really mind too much. Said kids certainly found it hilarious.

Morgana coming of age also meant an influx of potential courters, both foreign royalty and local nobility.

Much to Uther’s annoyance, she rejected every single one before even meeting them, insisting that she would marry for love, not because some old man wanted to suck up to The King.

It didn’t take long for him to give up on finding her a suitor to be honest. She wasn’t heir to the throne, so it wasn’t too important, and he knew how stubborn she was; the more he tries to set her up, the more she’ll resist.

Merlin’s sixteenth birthday came a few weeks after Arthur’s seventeenth, and Uther begrudgingly gave Morgana and Arthur a day off from lessons and meetings. Frankly, he knew there would be no point in trying to enforce anything, they would just ignore him and sneak out to see the boy anyway.

A couple months after Arthur’s seventeenth birthday, it came time for his official Knighting (he talked about it endlessly when it happened, being one of the youngest to ever be officially knighted, most aren’t knighted until they’re closer to 21. Leon had been very young as well, at only 19).

Much to Uther’s chagrin, Arthur and Morgana insisted that Hunith and Merlin have a front row seats.

He gave in eventually, after Arthur threatened to not turn up to his own ceremony, and Morgana pointed out that the only people in attendance would already know about the whole soulmate thing.

It was a momentous occasion, that involved huge public celebrations (which Arthur and Morgana, of course, snuck out of the castle to join in on, with Gwen and Merlin), and a large feast in the evening.

Hunith finally got a chance to wear one of her nicest dresses, and Arthur even managed to wrangle Merlin into some smart clothes (just a touch of red and gold, to subtly compliment what the Prince was wearing, of course).

Though Uther did insist on having them introduced as “Family of the Court Physician” to anyone who asked, which annoyed Arthur to no end. But he’d agreed to not go public until he turned 18, so he was just going to have to put up with it.

They had a great time, and even Uther loosened up a bit once he’d had a little to drink. He still avoided Hunith and Merlin like the plague, but did get tipsy enough to clap Arthur on the back, and tell him he was proud “Of both your achievement today, and the happiness you found with your soulmate.” which Arthur definitely did NOT tear up at, thank you very much Morgana, and which Uther will deny happened until the day he dies.

Despite having to hide their respective soulmates, the gang had fun. Once the food and tables where cleared away to make way for music and dancing, things livened up a great deal.

Morgana dragged Merlin to dance, despite his insistence that he didn’t know how. Arthur, Gwen, Leon, Hunith, and Gaius watched on in amusement as Morgana tried to teach him the steps in the middle of the floor, no one in the hall daring to complain (she was the King’s Ward, after all).

Morgana made her way through the group, insisting that Arthur danced with her next, then Leon, and then, much to Uther’s annoyance, Gwen and Hunith.

Everyone soon forgot about their worries, maybe it was inappropriate for commoners and servants to mix with royalty and knights, but this celebration was for Arthur, he could bloody well do what he wanted.

Thankfully, by the time Morgana managed to force Arthur and Merlin on the dancefloor together, everyone else in the room was too drunk, and too wrapped up in their own dance partners, to notice The Prince dancing with the Physician’s Apprentice.

Overall, despite the stress of feeling like Uther was glaring a hole in the back of all of their heads, they enjoyed the night. Hunith and Merlin felt, even though it was obviously much fancier, the celebrations were similar to the ones they had back in their little village.

They had greatly missed the Yule celebration that had undoubtedly happened at the end of last year in Ealdor, but this more than made up for it, and by the end of the night, their spirits were lifted, so much so that they weren’t nearly as homesick as they used to be.

It was just days after the celebrations, that Arthur and Merlin (choosing to sleep in Merlin’s bed tonight, so they could have breakfast with Hunith the next morning) woke with a start to the sound of frantic banging on the front door. It was very late, still hours before sunrise.

Arthur woke immediately, his instincts kicking in as he grabbed his hidden sword and made his way out of the bedroom before he was even fully aware of himself. Merlin woke up a little slower, but still grabbed his own sword and crept out of the room after Arthur, meeting a worried Hunith in the corridor.

Arthur gestured at them to be quiet and raised his sword a little higher as the banging started again.

Merlin ignored him however, as he widened his (now golden) eyes and dropped his sword. He rushed to open the door before Arthur could stop him, only to find a distraught Morgana shivering on the front step.

She was still wearing sleep clothes, with a cloak and shoes hastily thrown on. He eyes were red and she had tear tracks down her face, her hair a mess.

The moment Merlin threw open the door, Morgana falls forward into his arms, the Warlock only just managing to catch her as she begins crying again.

It takes Arthur a moment to recover form his shock, but he quickly gathers his and Merlin’s swords, dropping them on a side table, before mouthing “tea?” to Hunith and stepping towards his soulmate and his sister.

Hunith nods slightly, and with one last worried look to the girl who had become like a daughter to her, she busies herself in the kitchen; lighting the fire, boiling some water, and gathering together some tea leaves, the type that help with sleep.

Arthur manages to pull the other two inside, so he could shut the door, and he guides them to the living room. Merlin settles in a large, soft armchair, and Morgana follows closely, falling into his lap and continuing to cry into his shoulder, clutching desperately at his sleep tunic.

Arthur sits himself on the armrest, and Morgana gropes blindly for his hand, which he quickly takes, before looking to Merlin and raising a worried eyebrow.

Merlin just shakes his head in confusion. Morgana hadn’t said anything yet, just cried, and he had no idea what could’ve brought on such hysterics so suddenly in someone who was usually so calm.

He wipes all thoughts of his own nightmares from his mind as he strokes Morgana’s hair and whispers gentle words to her. She finally calms down a little as Hunith walks in with four cups of tea, and Merlin asks quietly:

“Would you like Gwen? She only lives a few streets away, Arthur could fetch her and be back in only a few minutes.” Arthur gets up, moving to put on shoes and a cloak, but Morgana croaks out a desperate:

“NO! No, I don’t want to worry her.”

She goes to stand up, but Merlin pulls her back down, settling her comfortably in his lap, as she fiddles with her hands and refuses to meet anyone’s eyes.

Merlin just frowns, still stroking her back, and Arthur speaks up quietly:

“What’s wrong ‘Gana? Are you hurt?”

Morgana shakes her head and looks up at Arthur, then Hunith, before finally looking back at Merlin. She gulps before she begins to speak:

“I... I had a nightmare-”

Merlin gives her a sad smile, knowing how terrifyingly disorienting they can be, but before he can say anything, Morgana continues:

“-but not a normal one. I’ve always suffered with night terrors, and Gaius makes me sleeping draughts but they never work. This one was so vivid. Like it was real.-”

She looks down to her lap, and Merlin begins to frown again as she continues:

“-I never really noticed before, or I just wrote it off as coincidence, but all of my dreams... they come true. And this one...”

Arthur speaks up as she trails off:

“Are you sure, Morgana? Maybe you just got a little muddled up, perhaps you dreamt about them after, and got confused?-”

Morgana looks up sharply, somehow still managing to look a little intimidating despite the messy hair and tears:

"Do you remember when you got caught by that mace during training last week?-”

Arthur frowns slightly, nodding as he rolls his shoulder automatically, still feeling a dull ache:

“-well the night before, I dreamt about it, that’s why I came to watch that morning. I just wrote it off because in my dream, it was Leon that hit you, not Sir Kay, but that was the only difference. Even the bruise looked exactly the same.-”

The other three look surprised, but before they can say anything she gulps and continues:

“And when we got attacked by those bandits? I dreamt about that a few days prior. In my dream, Leon was with us as well, and there were three more attackers, but again, other than the slight difference, everything was the same. Even how Merlin ended the fight, and the memory charm.”

Arthur collapses in the chair behind him, looking thoughtful, and slightly worried, as Merlin breaks himself out of his train of thought:

“Why didn’t you say anything?”

Morgana bites her lip, before saying timidly:

“I almost did, but I just thought I was being paranoid; seeing connections where there weren’t any. But tonight...”

Arthur looks up sharply, frowning (not accusingly, just... worryingly) as he says:

“What was your nightmare about ‘Gana? I’ve never seen you this scared before.”

She looks up and meets his gaze, tears gathering in her eyes again:

“We were in a cave, me and Merlin. It was dark, and we were... not quite scared, but confused. And then a dragon appeared, huge, angry. It spoke, I couldn’t understand it, but Merlin obviously could, and they talked for a while. Merlin got angry, and then the dragon looked at me, and reared up and started spitting fire. I woke up just before... just before it burned me. I snuck past the guards and came straight here.-”

She looked to her lap again, before mumbling:

“Honestly, I didn’t even know you were here, I just wanted to see Merlin, because he was in it.”

Merlin pulls her close again, and she settles with her head in the crook of his neck as he strokes her hair, worrying his lip at her description of the night terror.

Hunith looked worried, and Arthur was deep in thought for a few minutes, before speaking up again:

“I suppose you two just... stay away from big caves? And if you find one somehow, come find me, and Leon would probably be good as well, and we’ll see what’s going on, together.”

Morgana looks up at him through her lashes, and mumbles:

“It felt... evil. Not the dragon or the place, but... me. Like it was justified in attacking me, like I wasn’t supposed to be there.”

Merlin tightens his hold on her, and his eyes flash gold as he grinds out:

“ ‘Gana, anything that tries to hurt you, will have to go through me first, dragon or otherwise.”

Arthur smiles comfortingly as he says:

“Exactly. As if I would ever let the two of you explore a dragon’s cave without me anyway.”

She looks up as she laughs, just a little, and Hunith speaks for the first time since Morgana had appeared:

“Would you like to stay here for the rest of the night? I can move in here and you can take my bed.”

Merlin shakes his head:

“No, she can stay with Arthur and I, the bed is big enough for the three of us. That way we can wake her up if she gets any more nightmares.”

Arthur nods and pats Morgana’s shoulder before going to their bedroom. He lights a candle, pulls the covers back, and places the swords back in their hiding places.

Morgana sits up straight and looks down at Merlin:

“Are you sure? I can make my way back to the castle easily enough.”

Merlin shakes her head, smiling at her:

“No, it’s fine. I’d prefer you to stay with us anyway. We can talk to Gaius tomorrow about the dreams. I was born with magic remember, it’s not impossible for it to have happened to you as well, we’ll just have to be careful, ok? Everything will be fine, ‘Gana, promise.”

Morgana smiles, and wipes her eyes as she stands up. She gives Hunith a quick hug, thanking her for the tea as she picks up her an Arthur’s cup. She follows Arthur into the bedroom, and Merlin gives his mother a worried look, before grabbing his own cup and saying goodnight, telling her quietly:

“Make sure your door is shut. Hopefully she won’t have anymore nightmares tonight, but I have a feeling she’ll wake up loudly if she does.”

Hunith nods, before whispering:

“Do you think she’s right? Is she some sort of... seer?”

Merlin sighs, looking towards the bedroom, before looking back and replying:

“I don’t know. Maybe. I’ve never exactly met any other magic-users, I only have Gaius and my own experiences to go off.”

Hunith nods, and the two separate, heading to their own rooms and shutting the doors behind them.

Arthur and Morgana were already settled, having finished their tea. Arthur was back where he was earlier, and Morgana sat in the middle of the bed, her head resting on his shoulder.

Merlin walks around to sit on Morgana’s other side, abandoning his undrunk tea in favour of laying straight down. Morgana and Arthur follow him, and Morgana turns over, curling up under Merlin’s arm, and whispering a quiet, teary “thank you”.

Arthur settles an arm over Morgana’s back, his hand intertwining with Merlin’s on the pillow, and Merlin’s other arm settles over her waist, holding her close.

The boys share a worried look, before closing their eyes. They fall into a shallow sleep, prepared to jump awake at even a twitch from Morgana, determined to keep her safe.

Morgana wakes the next morning having slept surprisingly well through the rest of the night.

Merlin is sitting up next to her, one hand protectively splayed on her back, the other holding a book in his lap. She can hear people bustling around in the next room, and she can see the sun start to peak through the curtains.

Merlin looks down at her when he feels her wake, and puts a finger to his lips, before whispering:

“Gwen and Leon arrived earlier to join us for breakfast, we haven’t told them you’re here.-”

Morgana frowns in confusion as she sits up, and Merlin continues:

“-I think you should tell them what happened, they can help, like they helped me, but we still thought it should be your choice. You can sneak out the widow and head up to the castle if you want?”

Morgana shakes her head, and murmurs:

“No, you’re right. They should know, I don’t like keeping things from Gwen, and Leon can always tell when we lie, anyway.” She says the last bit with a weak smirk, and Merlin chuckles:

“Come on then, I think breakfast is almost ready. Plus, some of us have semi full days today, so we should get going before we all start running late.”

Morgana nods, and moves to stand in front of the mirror, grimacing before trying to straighten her hair a little, and washing her face in the fresh wash-bowl.

Merlin chuckles a little before following her up, and throwing a jacket on over his sleep clothes. He waits for Morgana to finish, and allows her to nervously take his hand as they exit the room.

It takes a few moments for anyone to notice them when they first enter the kitchen, Arthur and Hunith cooking, whilst Gwen and Leon play cards at the table.

Arthur is the first to notice, and gives Morgana a smile, before looking to Merlin with a raised eyebrow, meaning “the truth?”. Merlin answers with a small nod, and Arthur smiles again, before saying loudly:

“Morning, you two certainly slept in, didn’t you?”

Everyone looks up at that, Hunith briefly smiling before going back to the food, and Gwen and Leon widening their eyes in surprise. Gwen jumps up to give Morgana a hug, which she enthusiastically returns:

“ ‘Gana! I thought I felt you close, what are you doing here? Did you stay the night?” There’s no accusation in her tone, just concern, and Morgana gives her a brief smile before nodding, and saying:

“It’s... a long story. Let’s sit, we can tell the both of you.”

Leon packs the cards away, and moves up the bench so Merlin can settle next to him, Gwen and Morgana opposite them, and Arthur and Hunith hurriedly serve up food before sitting down at the ends of the table.

Morgana explains timidly what had happened just a few hours previously, and Gwen grabs her hand as she describes the feeling of being deserving of the flames.

(The way she words the sentence does make Merlin tense slightly, but only Arthur notices, and he squeezes Merlin’s knee under the table.)

Leon listens intently, and when she’s finished, he leans across the table to clutch her hand briefly before looking to Merlin:

“Is that possible? Could she be some sort of seer? I know there are lots of them among the druids, but I’ve never actually met one.”

Merlin shrugs slightly, and replies:

“I’m not sure, it’s possible. We were going to talk to Gaius, he knows more about this sort of thing than me.”

Gwen and Leon nod, and Hunith speaks up:

“Me and Arthur are busy today, and I’m assuming you are as well, Leon?-”

He nods, though reluctantly:

“-But why don’t you two go with Merlin to see Gaius? He’ll probably be more able to understand if you can explain it directly to him.”

Morgana looks a little tense at having to explain it for a third time, but Gwen nods her head:

“That sounds like a good idea, maybe we could... get into contact with some druids somehow? If they do have seers, they might be able to help.”

Leon looks troubled at that, but Arthur speaks up first:

“That could work, but only if we absolutely have to. I don’t want to put them in any unnecessary danger, by potentially exposing them. Plus it would be a long journey, we’d have to come up with excuses. I don’t think my father would accept any reason we gave for needing a few days off to leave the kingdom.”

The others nod in agreement, Morgana looking even more worried, but Hunith sees her expression and speaks quietly:

“I’m sure that won’t be necessary. Gaius knows a great many things, and if not, I’m sure we can figure it out ourselves.”

Morgana smiles at her gratefully, and with that, the conversation comes to an easy end.

After they clean up, and a round of goodbyes is had, Hunith rushes off to the tailor’s, and Arthur and Leon reluctantly head back up to the castle.

Morgana wraps herself in a cloak, with the hood up, and Merlin quickly gets dressed. In the end, they had decided that Gwen and Morgana would head to Morgana’s chambers, so she could get washed and changed and run a brush through her hair, and Merlin would head straight to the Physician’s chambers, and explain the situation to Gaius.

He was indeed troubled, when Merlin explained what had happened, in as much detail as possible to stop his best friend from having to recount it again.

He knew of her nightmares, and had been making sleeping draughts for her for years, but she had never talked about the similarities to real life events before.

Gaius mentions not knowing much of her heritage, passed her parents and grandparents, but even if it wasn’t an inherited gift, it’s possible for the occasional, naturally magical child to be born. As proven by Merlin.

Morgana and Gwen arrive shortly after, and Gaius gives the King’s Ward a comforting pat on the shoulder, before saying quietly:

“Merlin has explained what has happened, it does sound potentially magical, but beyond that, I’m afraid I can’t be of more help. I think the Prince’s suggestion of just being careful where you go is currently the best course of action. Might I also suggest that you stop taking sleeping draughts for a while? It might be that they are interfering with the process, making them more or less vivid, accurate.”

Morgana looks a little scared at that, but Gwen squeezes her hand and Merlin speaks up:

“That might be a good idea, it’ll be easier to figure out exactly what we’re dealing with if there isn’t any interference.”

Merlin’s confirmation gives Morgana a little more confidence, and she nods firmly. She’s never run away from things before, she’s not going to start now, especially when she has her soulmate, best friend, brother, and knight in shining armour beside her.

Merlin gives her a smile, and Gaius gives him the day off, encouraging the three of them to take the day to relax, and recover from last night’s ordeal. Merlin gives his mentor a grateful smile, and takes Morgana’s other hand, dragging the girls out the door, before saying with a cheerful grin:

“Fancy going to watch Arthur get his arse handed to him on a silver platter during training?”

During everyone’s lunch break, they explained the plan... or lack thereof.

Leon was a little... tense, at the idea of stopping the sleeping draughts and just seeing what happens, but in the grand scheme of things, there weren’t any other options.

A few days passed, getting less and less tense as each sun rose and set. Morgana slept peacefully, no more nightmares or... visions. It was still a worry in the back of all their minds, but it was no longer a pressing issue that they lost sleep over.

Until the fourth day.

It had been exactly a year since Hunith and Merlin had moved to Camelot, and they were having a mini, evening celebration at the house, with the whole gang there.

Morgana had gone into the garden to cool off a bit (seven people all in one small room at the beginning of summer... yeah it got pretty hot, pretty quick).

Merlin joined her and they chatted quietly, reminiscing about all the ridiculous things they had gotten up to in just one year, laughing about how many grey hairs they had given Leon.

The conversation halted when Merlin straightened his back, and took in a gasp at a voice echoing through his head:

“Emrys...”

Morgana frowns at Merlin’s sudden reaction to seemingly nothing:

“Birdy, what’s wrong?”

Merlin looks at her in surprise:

“Did you not hear that?-”

“Emrys!”

He gasped, and took a step away from the house, peering into the dark:

“There it was again, can you not hear it? Who is that?”

Morgana looks troubled, and takes Merlin’s shoulder, pulling him round to look at her:

“Merlin there’s... no one there. I didn’t hear anything. Are you alright?”

Merlin looks at her, confused, but tenses, and whips his head around again when the voice echoes again:

“Come and find me, Warlock, I’m waiting. Come alone.”

Morgana calls desperately for Arthur, but Merlin pays her no mind as his eyes strain to see something that isn’t there. After only a second the Prince appeared with a pop by Merlin’s side:

“Merlin, what’s wrong?”

Merlin doesn’t answer him, and he looks to Morgana, worried. She has the same troubled expression on her face as she replies:

“I don’t know, he keeps hearing something that isn’t there.”

Arthur looks back to Merlin, and shakes his shoulder roughly, finally getting his attention:

“Merls?”

Just then, the others walk out of the house, looking worried at Morgana’s scared call, and Arthur’s sudden disappearance. Merlin looks over the group, before glancing once more out into the dark street, before looking back to Arthur:

“It’s a voice, someone’s calling for me. They’re calling me the wrong name but... they’re definitely calling for me.”

Everyone looks troubled at that, and Merlin shakes his head when Gaius asks if he recognises the voice.

Leon lifts his head in sudden thought before speaking hurriedly to Morgana:

“In the dream, you said Merlin and the dragon spoke to each other, but you couldn’t understand them, right?-”

Morgana gives a nervous nod, and the group looks to him, confused, as he speaks again:

“Well, maybe it’s... like that. Maybe that’s how you and Merlin find the cave, you follow the voice.-”

The others look doubtful, but he continues anyway:

“I know it’s far fetched, but how else were the two of you just going to stumble upon a cave big enough to hold a dragon?”

Arthur nods at that, mumbling that it makes sense, and Morgana looks scared. Gwen grabs her hand, and Gaius and Hunith look to each other nervously.

No on really knows what to say, but they all look to Merlin as he groans, bringing a hand up to his forehead, as the voice echoes louder:

“HURRY Warlock, I find myself running low on patience this night.”

Arthur pulls him close, and Gwen takes his other hand, Merlin mumbles:

“Whatever it is, it’s telling me to go find him, alone. I have a feeling he’s not going to stop until I go.”

Leon scoffs before saying:

“Like hell are we letting you go alone, but we should see what this is all about. Lead the way, Birdy.”

Arthur steps back and tells everyone to wait a minute, before popping away. He reappears moments later with his and Merlin’s swords, and three spares, for Gwen, Morgana, and Leon.

Leon just raises an eyebrow, taking the offered sword, and Arthur shrugs:

“Pays to be prepared. There are at least two more still in the house-”

He looks to Gaius and Hunith:

“You two wait here, we’ll try not to do anything too stupid.”

They both look worried at that, but Arthur rolls his eyes, and says:

“Leon and Gwen will be with us.”

At that, Gaius and Hunith relax slightly, which everyone would find hilarious if they weren’t focusing on bigger things.

Arthur turns back to Merlin, taking his hand, and gesturing him to lead the way.

The Warlock leads them up the main road, towards the castle gates. The others are confused at that, they had expected him to start walking out of the city, towards the wilderness, not further in.

They follow him though, getting tenser and tenser, as he allows his feet to carry him through the castle, going further and further down. Towards the dungeons.

They duck out of the way when people pass, and thankfully manage to avoid being seen by everyone. No one notices them even as they move through the dungeons to a hidden, back staircase that falls deeper and deeper into the earth.

All of them frown at this, none of them had been aware of this section of the castle, all having thought the dungeons were the lowest level.

They reach the bottom, seeing a great metal gate in front of them, that opens to a large cave. Morgana gasps, and mumbles that this is the cave from her dream as she grips Gwen’s hand tighter.

Leon takes a deep breath, before stepping in front of the group, and walking slowly forward, pushing the gate open easily, and stepping into the cave, sword raised in defence.

Arthur and Merlin follow quickly, Gwen after them, holding a fearful Morgana behind her protectively.

They gather on a ledge, staring in wonder and fear at the huge cavern that stretches out in every direction. After just a moment, a deafening roar echoes from somewhere near the roof, and the group collectively gasp before huddling closer together.

That is, apart from Merlin, who steps forward, a frown on his face as he yells:

“Like hell I was coming alone. What is this?”

With that, a blizzard like wind whips through the cavern, and everyone takes a step back, looking fearfully up at the giant dragon that descends from above.

Merlin holds his ground, automatically gripping his sword tighter, as the beast lands in front of him, gazing at him impassively.

Arthur speaks up loudly, but his voice shakes as he says:

“Merlin... step back... come here. Please.”

Merlin doesn’t move, but the dragon absentmindedly moves his gaze to the group, making direct eye contact with Arthur before tilting his head downwards, slightly reminiscent of a bow, before looking back to Merlin.

The group moves slowly towards Merlin, unprepared to leave him alone, and the dragon grumbles again, in a language that Merlin doesn’t realise isn’t even English:

“I let you have your year of fun. Now you must grow up, and learn of your destiny. There are bigger things in motion that you could ever hope to imagine.”

Merlin frowns, and the group looks to him in confusion as he replies:

“You let me? What does that even mean? And how did you call me down here? What destiny? And my name isn’t Emrys or whatever, it’s Merlin, always has been.”

The dragon narrows his eyes, before replying, the deep rumble of his growling unnerving to those who can’t understand him:

“So many questions. You are the great Warlock, known as Emrys, the most powerful magic-user to walk the earth. Arthur is the Once and Future King, destined to unite Albion.”

Merlin tilts his head in confusion:

“...right.”

The great dragon appears to huff in frustration, before continuing:

“He will face many threats. It is your destiny to protect, and guide him on his way to unite the land, and bring magic back into balance.”

Merlin furrows his eyebrows. He was already sort of expecting the whole “bringing magic back” thing, but the official “destiny” thing is definitely news to him:

“And how do you know all of this?”

Kilgharrah takes a great step back, ignoring his question, once more looking over the group stood just behind Merlin. His nostrils flare, smoke swirling out as he huffs, and narrows his eyes:

“You should not have brought the witch. In another life, she was destined to become a monster, the hatred to your love, the darkness to your light. The risk is too high, she must be destroyed, before she falls once more.”

He rears up, and takes a deep breath as Morgana stumbles back fearfully, the group gathering around her protectively. Merlin rushes back, standing between the dragon and the group before he can exhale. He falls back down onto his front claws and growls, but Merlin shouts before he can say anything:

“NO! You want to hurt ‘Gana, you’ll have to kill me, and I suspect your precious Once and Future King, first.”

With that, Arthur steps further forward, to be in line with Merlin, and the dragon turns angrily, whipping his tail to the floor with a bang, before turning back and glaring at him:

“Her destiny is inevitable, none of us choose our destiny, and none of us can escape it. She must be destroyed before it’s too-”

Merlin interrupts him:

“I don’t give a FUCK about your destiny. No one’s future is set in stone, and I will never let you hurt her, especially not for something she hasn’t even done yet.”

The dragon growls once again, before leaning close to Merlin, he speaks in English this time, so the group can understand, his voice deep and gravelly, filled with anger:

“On your head be it, or more likely, your precious soulmate’s head.”

With that, he gestures a giant claw briefly at Arthur, before flying off once again, disappearing into the shadows of the cavern.

Merlin blinks a few times, and the anger on his face fades to confusion as he looks back to Morgana, gazing at her assessingly.

She looks terrified, and gulps before saying:

“What is it, what did he say?”

Merlin shakes his head roughly, and walks forward, gathering her in a hug, before pulling back, his hands still on her shoulders. He gives her a small smile before looking to the others:

“Let’s get back to Hunith and Gaius, we don’t want to be gone too long. I’ll explain as best I can when we get back-”

He lets go of Morgana and shrugs briefly:

“-though to be honest, I’m not sure even I fully understand.”

With that, he leads the group out of the cavern, holding Morgana’s hand tightly, and refusing to look back.

Leon and Arthur bring up the rear, and they quickly find themselves back at the house, having made the whole journey in silence.

Hunith and Gaius hurriedly stand and look nervously to the group as they re-enter the house, and grimly settle around the kitchen table without a word.

Merlin and Arthur look stuck deep in thought, and Morgana quietly sniffles whilst Gwen comforts her, so Hunith and Gaius look to Leon for explanation.

He bites his lip and takes a deep breath, before beginning to explain:

“Well... we found the dragon.-”

Gaius gasps at that, and Hunith frowns, worrying her lip between her teeth:

“-Though none of us but Merlin could understand what he was saying. Something about destiny, and Kings, from what we could hear Merlin saying. It wanted to hurt Morgana, and got angry when Merlin and Arthur stepped in the way. Then it... flew off I guess, and we came back here.”

The others, apart from Merlin, had started to pay attention as Leon explained, and when he was finished, everyone looked to the young Warlock.

He still had a deep frown on his face, and was sat exceptionally still, staring at his hands folded on the table.

Morgana gulps and takes his hand, shocking him out of his internal deliberation:

“Merlin, why did it attack me? What did it say about me?”

Merlin takes a deep breath, and stares at her, a slight frown on his face as he noticed the reappearance of tears.

He pursed his lips, trying to decide what to tell her. Risk terrifying her even more, by telling the full truth, but being able to work together to combat it? OR, only tell part of the truth, lie, and save her from the heartbreak, trying to help her avoid her so called destiny from the side-lines?

He clenched his jaw, before giving her a small smile and looking around at his family; the decision was much easier than he first thought:

“He told me about our... destinies. Apparently my real name is Emrys, and I’m a powerful Warlock, destined to help Arthur become The Once and Future King, whatever that means, so he can unite all of Albion, and bring magic back into balance.-”

The others frown in confusion at this, and he looks back at Morgana, squeezing her hand once more before continuing:

“-He said that... in another life, Morgana was destined to become a monster, to fight against mine and Arthur’s destiny-”

Morgana let out a breath at that, and a few more tears fell as everyone else around the table tenses at the accusation:

“-he said that the risk of it happening again, in this life, was too high, and she had to be... destroyed, before she got in the way.-”

Arthur stands abruptly in anger at that, and Leon has to put a hand on his shoulder to calm him before he started angrily yelling. Merlin gave Morgana a reassuring smile before saying:

“-I, of course, told him to fuck off, that he would have to go through me before I let him punish you for something you hadn’t done, and have no intention of doing.”

Morgana shakes her head quickly, like she feels the need to convince her family that she isn’t some sort of beast (that breaks all of their hearts a little bit), before putting her hands over her mouth, and tightly closing her eyes.

Merlin stands and quickly walks to the other side of the table, pulling Morgana up and gathering her in a tight hug. He blinks away the tears in his eyes at her distress, and pointedly ignores the painful stares of everyone else in the room.

Gwen puts a comforting hand on Morgana’s shoulder blade, as she once again finds herself crying into Merlin’s shoulder.

The Warlock tries not to sound angry (he feels the urge to go back down those steps and yell at the bastard, but he figured that probably wasn’t such a good idea) as he murmurs comfortingly to her:

“Don’t you worry ‘Gana, you’ll never be a monster, not to us. Pre-written destiny is a load of crap, our lives are whatever we make of them, dig your own path. I’ve got you, and I’m never letting go. You aren’t alone.”

She looks up at him with bleary eyes, and the others crowd closer as her next question comes out as just a whisper:

“Promise?”

Merlin smiles at her, and wipes away her tears, but before he can answer, Arthur speaks up, in a strong voice:

“We promise, ‘Gana.”

Leon gives her a reassuring smile, and Gwen nods her head firmly as she speaks:

“We’re in this together, destiny or no.”

Gaius and Hunith take the beds that night, as the other five fill the living room with various blankets and pillows. They crowd in together, Morgana held protectively in the middle, everyone else silently making oaths to themselves that they would never let her down.

That’s the end of part three!!

I reckon there’ll be two more parts to the story, but again, that depends on how many different ideas I want to fit in. I also haven’t started writing part 4 yet, so it might take a little while longer for it to arrive.

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chanluster · 4 years

Text

two types of fireworks | {f} ; mild {c}

oneshot | tangled! au | historical! au | 21.2k words

“ who could be better adventurers than a wanted thief and a girl with magical hair? ”

s u m m a r y > > when you find a notorious thief wounded within the woods you wondered, you heal him, not realising that the same man will lead you to your destination, and the few feelings you’ll develop along the way.

c o n t e n t s > > long haired flynn rider! hyunjin, rapunzel! reader, irritated companions to lovers, a lot of fluff, kkami is a horse, hyunjin gets SOOOO angry with you all the time, teasing, hyunjin gets flustered easily, everyone in skz included cause i miss them everyday, jisung is the villain iMSOSORRY, a few swear words sprinkled throughout, perhaps? sexual tension? never r e a l l y addressed, and of course, some familiar disney scenes

a u t h o r ‘ s n o t e > > once again, i cannot control myself and wrote double the intended word count!! i hope you like and reblog if enjoy this homies, and remember, long-haired hyunjin domination!!!

back to masterlist

YOU WONDERED WHEN YOU WOULD FINALLY GET OUT OF THE FOREST.

Bag slung over your shoulder, your naked feet skimmed through the soft grass as you trudged on, waiting for an opening within the infinite trees to your destination beyond.

It was days like this that you wished Mother had a horse at the foot of the tower. Even though it was a creature you had never seen, you had studied its striking figure within the illustrated books your mother gifted on countless birthdays, their natural-coloured coats, long, beautiful faces and poses of them galloping across green fields.

Green fields you wished had greeted you sooner.

The only sound of the entire forest was the rustling of leaves upon branches, woodland creatures here and there scrambling for food, or for shelter within the thousands of trees surrounding you. Even the sun could not break through the dense masses of nature, only slivers of light shooting through the leaves, providing light for your journey.

Hard. The paths were hard, your feet getting slightly muddied, and even your water was slowly running thin, leather skin holding about a day’s worth of water left. Your food was stocked, collecting apples from the nature above, but you knew you needed a proper meal if you had not a clue of when you were to arrive at your hidden destination.

You knew what you were searching for. You just did not know where to search.

Sighing, you felt your spirits dampen the further you lumbered on, the mass rings of hair wound around your other arm a heavy weight. The locks were endless, making a trail behind you. You tried to gather up as much hair as you could manage, but the damned mess refused to listen. Irritancy furrowed your brows, and you let out a shallow sigh, cursing fate for being so cruel.

Within the trees, you spotted an opening - a sliver of light beyond the tunnel of nature. You gasped, picking up the pace of your feet, running out and breaking free of the leafy barrier.

Before you were not the opening fields you expected, but rather a small pond, cocooned within the trees you ploughed through. The water looked pure, glimmering from the sunlight which now freely fell upon the opening. It was a peaceful sight, but still could not stop the disappointment reaching your face as you slumped your shoulders.

Brilliant.Yet another dead end.

You were about to head for the pond when you heard distant shouting.

Fear froze over you, expecting your mother breaking through the bushes.

Your instincts had you dashing for the trees again, gathering your hair and hiding behind the bushes. The aggravated voice grew louder, but the closer it came, you realised with confusion that it was not laced with anger. It was laced with pain.

Suddenly, something broke out of the bushes. You nearly let out a childish yelp.

It was the most beautiful man you had ever seen.

Hell, it was the only man you had ever seen - you would have kept staring in awe were not your features distorted with worry. This man stumbled to a nearby tree looking over the pond, one hand clinging onto the trunk as the other hugged his abdomen, fingers stained with the blood caked upon his turquoise vest. Dear God, there was so much blood.

He whirled, back to the trunk, and slumped down, legs spread before him as his mouth parted, letting out shallow breaths as he tried to stop the bleeding. His head frantically darted, looking everywhere, and then tilted his head back against the wood as he closed his eyes. Sweat matted his locks, beaded down his cheeks, and he hissed as his hand held his bloodied side tighter. His satchel had been discarded before the pond, a few papers and food spilling from the opening.

You watched him whither slowly, fingers threading through your hair. You wanted to help; of course you did, but you held back. Perhaps fear still crept at the back of your neck, but you hid behind the bushes, waiting for what might happen.

Minutes later, you wished you ran to his help instead. The man, after heaving rapidly, left his hand upon the wound, thumping down on the ground, slumping fully against the tree.

Your eyes widened at the realisation.

In that space of a few seconds, you knew.

Whoever he was, you had to save him.

Feet nearly stumbling upon huge tree roots, you rushed around the pond. Hair getting caught in a few twigs, you did not glance back as you tugged at the meters of locks, the man’s face now closer in your vision.

You dropped down to where he sagged against the trunk, unrolling your locks from your arm, eyes darting frantically to his figure. Instantly finding the horrific wound, cutting through the fabric and his skin, you slide your hand through curtains of your hair, taking out a long trail and tugging the ends to you.

With hesitation, but then determined certainty, your hands unbuttoned the man’s vest, taking every single nerve in your body not to glance at his face. The white shirt underneath was stained with blood as well, which you raised up to his top part of his chest, exposing his granite-hard abdomen. You would have even blushed were it not such a grave situation you found yourself in, blood oozing out of the injury.

With a final, long draw of breath, you grabbed the locks of your hair, carefully tying them around the man’s waist. You made sure the strands covered every single ribboned area of his stomach, praying to fate for this miracle. The only injuries you had treated were cuts from paper and burns from hot trays of cupcakes. A slash this deep and serious was going to be another matter entirely.

Once you were done securing the hair, you put your hand upon the locks guarding the injury, and closed your eyes.

The words that left your mouth nearly silenced the forest.

“Flower, gleam and glow.”

A spark.

“Let your power shine.”

You felt the glow hum beneath your fingers.

“Make the clock reverse.

“Bring back what once, was mine.”

You dared not open your eyes as you sang, sensing the miracle of your hair threading itself around the unconscious man, assessing the wound, driving inside and repairing the damage done upon his skin. You dared not stop singing, fearing for his life.

“Heal what has been hurt.”

The magic obliged to your call, slowly knitting the wound, working on the scarring, the loss of blood.

“Change the Fate’s design.”

The lost flesh formed miraculously underneath your fingertips, tendrils of muscle knitting within itself, saving the abdomen from complete ruination. You carried on, squeezing your eyes further shut.

“Save what has been lost.”

You felt the damp blood dry in the moments, the newly created muscle now raising your hand slightly as warmth radiated around you, courtesy of the otherworldly glow of your hair. It comforted your nerves, still there despite knowing you had brought the man out of grave danger.

“Bring back what once was mine…”

You took a deep breath, both hands upon his wound.

“What once was mine.”

You paused.

Opened your eyes.

There he still was, leaned back before you, dreaming away with a restored peace, lost when he got slashed in his gut. His top half was splayed out before you, abdomen all healed save for a dried blood scattered here and there. You turned to the pond, straining as you cupped some water and splashed it upon the crust, hitching your dress and using the ends to wipe the mess away.

As you wiped you looked up at his face — it was then you noticed the little details; his closed eyes, the groomed brows — the straight nose, gosh, the full lips, slightly parted mouth. You could not help but stare at the man, sleeping in tranquility with the nature around him. It was almost like he did not possess a grave wound moments before.

You realised when you glanced down that he was still bare waist up, and with heated cheeks raised your hands to the hem gathered at the top of his chest. Your eyes darted, and locked with his open ones, and reverted back to the shirt to yank it down—

You stopped completely in your tracks.

Widened your eyes.

Tilted your head up to see the man’s opened eyes, just as wide as yours, the lips you shamelessly stared at not so long ago parted more.

It was a few seconds before the heavy silence was shattered.

With the man’s rather shrill scream.

“OH MY GOD—!”

Suddenly he wasn’t slumped against the tree, but shooting straight up, backing away from you. Stunned, you retreated a few steps too, watching his slender eyes nearly shoot out of his sockets.

“Who are you?! What did you do to me?! How am I not dead—?!” his questions kept coming, head darting to where his satchel lay. He jumped towards it, frantically searching for some kind of weapon only to find a few posters and salted meat. He then perked his head towards you, immediately positioning himself in a fighting stance, fists out.

“Don’t make me fight you, girl!” he exclaimed, warning written in his face. “If I have no sword I can fight with my fists!”

That was a convenient time to whip out a weapon of your own, but you only argued with words.

“I’m not here to hurt you, I promise!” you reasoned, hands raised.

“Then why were you so close?! Bombarded in my face and fiddling with my shirt?!” he showed off his chest, now covered by the white material, turquoise vest still open. “Oh, dear God, what did you do?!”

“Nothing!” you proclaimed, pointing towards your chest. “I only healed your wounds!” You took a step closer. “You were going to die!”

Hesitantly, the man followed your finger, lifting his shirt up to see his side, completely free of scarring, of the slash that haunted his skin. He then looked to you once more, anger being replaced with pure fear.

He let out another unnecessary scream.

“WITCH!”

The tree stopped him backing up any further, and he watched you with pure horror, expecting you to grow fangs, form claws and gut you mercilessly. You only regarded the beautiful, yet rather silly man with incredulity.

“I’m not a witch,” you grumbled, crossing your arms, “I just have hair that glows when I sing.”

That did not help your situation at all.

“Because that’s normal, is it not?!” he yelped, and dashed behind the tree, taking notice of your hair. “And having a kingdom's worth of hair on your head isn’t something out of a grim fairytale?!”

“Well that ‘grim fairytale’-like hair is what saved you from death,” you snapped, hand slipping into your satchel, feeling the handle of your frying pan. “Ungrateful man!”

“Witch!” he growled right back.

“Ungrateful man!”

“Witch!”

“Ungrateful man!”

The man soured up, his raven locks caressing his cheeks as the wind rustled the forest. Both of you stared each other down, pan-handle jutting out of the satchel, and the other’s fists raised once more, half of his figure behind the tree still. None of you backed down. None of you dared lose to the other.

Minutes past, the only sound being the water softly lapping in the pond. The man let out a sigh, breaking the stare.

“I’m leaving.”

He picked up his satchel, a stray poster falling to the ground. You watched it descend, asking, “What, where?”

“None of your business.” He dusted himself off, buttoning up his vest. “I can’t waste my time here.”

You ignored his cold answer, and picked up the poster. It advertised the day of the Fireworks, a couple of weeks away, and boasted of the activities happening in the Kingdom of Corona.

An excited gasp escaped you.

“You!”

The man turned, frowning. “What now?”

You ran to where he stood, blocking his vision with the poster. “You know of Corona? Do you know where it is?”

Grunting, he waved the paper away from his face. “Of course I do.” He slung his bag over his head. “I was going to go there before I got rudely stabbed.”

A thrilling wave washed over you, barely containing your smile. “You’re still going then, aren’t you?”

“Yes, but—” the man stopped talking.

Began glaring at you.

“You’re not coming with me.”

The smile fell instantly.

“But wait!” You hurried over to him, but he reflexively dodged your advances. “We’re journeying to the same destination!”

“So?” He straightened his vest once more, and turned his icy stare towards you. “That, if I can remember correctly, is not my problem.”

“But I do not know where the Kingdom is!” You tried to break his shell, the constant rejections of teaming up.

“Refer to my previous point, witch.”

“I’m not a witch!” you sniped, getting more and more irritated with his discouraging demeanour. “I save you from the claws of oblivion, and this is how you repay me!”

He gritted his teeth. “I never asked you to save me.”

You scoffed, shocked by his total lack of gratitude. “Oh, really?” You finally brought out your own weapon. “Then I can gladly bring you back to your original state!”

The man stared at the black frying pan before bursting into laughter.

His shameless laughter made you even angrier, and you swung the pan back, another bad remark and it’ll hit home.

“A frying pan!” He gasped out, clutching his stomach. “What are you going to do? Fry my food to hurt me?”

You let out a roar as you swung the pan right onto his head.

With a sharp PANG! It banged against his head and the man let out a hideous yelp, gripping his head.

“What are you doing?!” he cried out, doubling over before the pond.

You only positioned yourself once more, the weapon hovering above your head. “Don’t insult my frying pan ever again. Nor my hair, you bastard.”

He groaned painfully in response, massaging his head to soothe the pain of the metal. “How do you think,” he guttered, looking over his shoulder at you, “I’m ever going to let you come with me after you nearly knocked me out?”

You did not break his stare. “Because I can easily do it again.

“Take me to the Kingdom of Corona. I saved your life, and it’s the least you can do in return.”

Again, the battle of eyes, refusing to surrender. You did not even know the man’s name, but you wished to swing the frying pan upon him, really make sure to wreck that awfully beautiful face.

That made you scowl further. Why was he so ravishing?

Whether it was your stubbornness, or the promise of another beating, the man stood straighter, a heavy exhale leaving his lips.

“Fine. You win.”

He turned fully to you, not leaving your eyes.

“You may accompany me to the Kingdom.”

The minute the words left his mouth, you flung your arms back, letting out a howl of victory.

“I’m going to see the fireworks!”

You ran around the tree, hair looping around the trunk as you hooted in pleasure. “I’m going to see the fireworks, I’m going to see the fireworks, I’m going to see the fireworks!

The man, still caressing his head, hissed at the commotion you made. “Oh, be quiet!”

Ignoring him completely, you continued your unpredictable running, until the former trudged up and stopped you in his tracks, gripping you by your arms.

“Stop!”

You returned his sour expression with a brilliant smile. “I can’t help it! I’ve been wanting to see the fireworks for a very long time.”

“Whatever.” He let you go, looking around the forest. “But before we go anywhere…”

He settled his eyes upon you. For once, there wasn’t any scorn alight in them.

“At least you can tell me your name.”

You pondered a bit. “Tell me yours first.”

The man rolled his eyes. “Fine.” He held out his hand.

“Hyunjin. Hwang Hyunjin, at your service, even though I don’t wish to be.”

You stared at his hand.

“Why did you raise your hand at me?” You asked in confusion, pan still in yours.

The man — Hyunjin — regarded you in disbelief. “You...you don’t…?” He cocked his head, retracting his hand. “Where did you come from, witch?”

“Again with the witch!” You exclaimed, cutting distance to his face, hovering the pan under his chin in warning.

“How about,” he started, lowering your weapon with his hand, “You pause the constant threats, and tell me your name?”

With a cautious eye still upon him, you obliged. “____.”

“____,” he repeated. “____,” he continued, as if tasting the very name that identified you. “Well, then, ____, the first thing we’re to do is search for Kkami.”

“Kkami?” Your eyes followed his every move, as he brought out his own leather skin, filling it with the water from the pond. You reflected his move, replenishing your own water.

“My horse,” he clarified, placing the skin within his satchel, closing the straps. “He must not be far.”

That snippet of information nearly had you screaming. “You have a horse?!” You asked eagerly, earning a hiss from the man.

“What are you so excited for? It’s just a horse.” He then sighed, tying locks of his hair in a half-up ponytail. “Yes, I do have a horse. So does half the kingdom.”

“I’ve never seen a horse before my eyes,” you explained, wonder misting your eyes, yet clearing your mind. You knew you had to find this ‘Kkami’ soon.

Hyunjin glanced at you, curiosity knitted onto his features. “You really do surprise me. It’s as if you’ve never left your home in your life.”

You could only offer him a smile. “You can say that again.”

“Come.” He started up a rather fast walk, separating the bushes with his hands. “He must not be far.”

You followed his trail, sparing one last look over your shoulder at the pond, then turning towards this Hwang Hyunjin, the man who would lead you to your destination.

The Fireworks of Corona.

For the next hours calls for Kkami were being pursued by the two of you, with little to no result, for a horse could not possibly call back on his searchers. Hyunjin showed no mercy in his marching, and you refused to let him show you mercy, despite your legs on the brink of collapsing.

After another hour the both of you broke away from the forests, and found a cobblestone road, leading to an unknown destination. Signs decorated the pole standing on the opposite side of the road, and the man stepped onto the path, assessing the places mentioned.

“Ah!” He spoke out after. “The Wolf’s Den.”

“What is that? Your home?”

“An inn, not far from here.” He looked to his left, the continuing pathway. “I stop there often in between journeys, so perhaps Kkami went there to wait for me.”

“Well, what are you standing around here for?” You sprung up in front of him, a tired grin etched into your features, a beacon of hope now beyond the road. That inn better be within the next ten steps.

Sure enough, there were only mere minutes of walking before you set your eyes upon a wooden cottage, it’s sign, displaying The Wolf’s Den, swaying within the cool woodland breeze. Distant noise was heard while you both walked towards the inn, howling and boisterous laughter ringing through the forest.

Hyunjin let out a sigh of relief, picking up the pace of his stride.

Confused, you followed his line of sight, and let out an excited gasp at what he ran towards.

Horses. Real horses, right before your eyes.

There were different colours of the animal, slick brown and black and white coats, but the one the man strolled towards, almost a skip in his step, possessed the opposite colours, black and white scattered upon its body, an unusual yet beautiful combination. The horse softly neighed when its owner laid a nurturing hand upon him, whispering greetings to him.

It was so...ethereal. Even if horses were common animals, seeing one for the first time from your own eyes rather than the pages of a children’s book made all the difference.

Hyunjin, feeling your blatant staring, glanced back, a groomed brow raised. “What is the unnerving staring for?”

You snapped out of the bubble of your thoughts, instantly souring over his comment. “I was just looking at your horse,” you mumbled.

“Oh my. You really were not kidding, then.” The other brow then joined its partner. “Are you going to faint if we come across a donkey?”

You gave him a scowl. “Shut up!”

He huffed out a laugh, patting his horse once more before walking around to the entrance, tilting his head up to assess the whole inn. He then looked past at you, still admiring Kkami. “I’m going to go inside for a bit. You stay out here.”

Again, you perked up, furrowing your brows. “Why can’t I come in?”

Gritting his teeth, he said, “Don’t argue! The inn’s full of madmen, and you’ll get scared.”

“You don’t know that!” you cross your arms, shooting him a mean glare. “I can take care of myself!”

“Just stay outside!” he exclaimed, wrenching open the door and storming inside, a loud bell indicating his presence as the door closed behind him.

You scream in anger at the door as if Hyunjin was still there in front of you. Dear God, he didn’t have to be such a pain in the rear!

Stubbornly, you stepped right to the door, opening it just a little bit, sticking your head inside.

Your eyes widened at the sight of the inn.

About a few dozen men were creating disorder, drinking away in big glasses, shouting and hollering, even threatening to throw punches at one another in a rather strange state of mind. Sweet singing was heard over the melody of the piano, a man’s rich voice adding softness to the anarchy. You noticed men stumbling around tables and slurring their words, your curiosity being stained with a little fear.

Why were these men acting like fools?

You opened the door a little wider, hand on it still as you stepped inside, the other hand holding onto your bundles of hair.

Your eyes settled on Hyunjin squeezing past the crowd, walking up to the counter, where a line of men were already settled, different coloured drinks in their hands. A handsome man, of similar age to your companion, greeted him with a dazzling smile. “Hyunjin!” he welcomed warmly, raising his hands.

You saw your grumpy companion sit down on the high chairs, not particularly returning the smile.. “Chan,” he started, putting his elbows on the counter top. “Any news?”

“The news is that you should rest,” this Chan countered, pouring a dark-red liquid in a glass, sliding it to his friend. “When was the last time you slept properly?”

His concern was waved off, as Hyunjin sipped on his drink, completely unaware of your presence. “When Jisung didn’t run off with my treasures.”

Chan’s smile faded, as he looked frantically around, lowering his voice. “What? Jisung betrayed you?”

Hyunjin kept darting his eyes back to you. “Let’s not dwell too much on it. My main objective is to find him.”

The bartender parted his mouth, worry in his features. “And...and what will you do when you find him?”

You saw the man’s face darken. “I will make him regret fucking with me.”

A small gasp escaped you, hands coming to your sides. This fury was of another scale entirely, and it made you almost shudder at his need for vengeance.

You were about to take a step further when the door shut completely.

The bell rang, a lot louder than you had imagined.

The chaos quietened at the sound, all eyes turning to the door.

Then at you, with all your seventy feet locks, trailing out the shut door.

And if that didn’t ennerve you entirely, then the look on Hyunjin’s face as he slowly got up from his seat, that same cold fury now focused on you, definitely did.

You nearly yelped out a cry of help.

The melody of the piano continued, and before all the men could come pounce on you, your hands dropped the tumbles of hair, falling at your feet as you grabbed your pan and raised it in warning.

Hyunjin thundered past the others, though, hair bobbing with each step as he stopped right behind the pan you raised in defence.

“I told you to stay outside,” he guttered.

You only craned your neck back, matching his stare. “You do not tell me what to do.”

“I swear to God—”

He was cut off when Chan eased past his customers, stopping beside Hyunjin as he widened his eyes at your arrival.

“Oh my,” he started, a small glance at the pan. “Miss, none of us intend to hurt you, do put the...your weapon down.”

Your eyes did not stray from Hyunjin’s. “One of you does.”

The owner of the tavern raised a brow at his friend. “Well, he won’t hurt you as long as he’s under this roof.”

He then blessed your eyes with a smile. “The name’s Bang Chan,” he said, hand stretched out. You took it, just how the ladies in your books did, and felt the expected kiss on the back. “What may I call you?”

“____,” you offered.

“Don’t let Hyunjin’s usually foul demeanour dampen your spirits,___,” Chan continued, leading you further into the tavern, the men unable to keep their eyes from you.

“Oh, so he’s always like this?” you mused, the already sour glare grilling into you.

The man leading you to a seat laughed, a single cheek dimpling. “Don’t you worry about him,___.” he snapped his fingers, the man playing the piano stopping, being replaced with another as he came down the stairs. “Worry about what drink you would like.”

“No!” Hyunjin cut in immediately, daggering the men around him with his gaze. “Do not even think about giving her anything.”

You scoffed louder than usual so the long-haired man would hear. “I would very much like a drink, thank you, Mr. Bang.”

The manager chuckled at the game of cat and mouse, pulling a seat for you to settle down into. “Chan is perfectly fine, ____.” He then turned to his friend. “Don’t fret too much, I’m only offering some ale.”

As if on cue, another fine, slender man, who was just playing the piano, presented you with a huge mug of the diluted alcohol, a soft smile etched onto his lips. You melted at his demeanour, accepting the object with a thank you. He then glanced at your companion, smile slightly fading.

“I assume you have heard about Jisung?”

Hyunjin cocked his head, a watchful eye still on you as you took a careful sip, eyes widening at the slight, sweet tang to the drink. “Of course. The bastard tried to stab me.”

“Dear God,” was his answer. “Are you alright?”

“Yes.” The feline gaze was more prominent, and you did not know why you began to drink the ale a little faster. “I escaped death...perhaps by witchcraft.”

You held in the urge to roll your eyes.

Hyunjin then fully focused his attention upon the musician. “Wait, Seungmin, how did you know of this?”

“Jisung came to the inn.”

Chan looked to his coworker. “I did not see him arrive.”

Seungmin shook his head, you right in the middle of these men as you finished your first mug. Another sweet customer poured you some more from his serving, and you clinked your drink with his, continuing to watch. “You were tending to Kkami. It was very quick, he came and went.”

“What did he tell you?” Hyunjin demanded.

“Well, firstly he told me you and him had gone your separate ways.” Seungmin propped a finger of his chin, thinking some more. “Which made me a little sceptical, since both of you are joined at the hip. Anyway, he said you gave him whatever you both had picked up on your adventures, and that he was going to Corona and sell them off.”

A curse was emitted over this information. You wanted to know why that was such a problem, but in reality all you wanted was more ale. “Chan?” You called, holding out the mug. The owner of the inn immediately took care of your request, filling the mug to the brim and setting it upon the wooden table.

“That is quite enough,” Hyunjin declared, trying to pry the drink from you when you slapped his hand away, shooting him with what you thought was a terrifying glare.

In reality, the men around him began to laugh at your attempt of intimidation, which looked more like a child pouting over a scolding. Your companion tried again to take the mug away but this time you hugged the drink as tightly as you could, some of the contents spilling lightly onto your top.

“I swear—” he muttered, but then angrily shook his head, dismissing you entirely. “Seungmin, do you know when he plans to go to Corona?”

The said-man furrowed his brows in thought. “He did seem in a bit of a rush. I reckon he has already found buyers and is riding to the city as we speak.”

Hyunjin poked his tongue out under his cheek, clearly not content with this new information. Chan, sensing his discomfort, put a hand on his shoulder. “Don’t worry too much,” he reassured him.

“I must leave for the capital now,” the younger said, and the other knitted his brows in irritancy.

“But you just arrived!”

“I can’t let Jisung get away with this,” Hyunjin muttered, and suddenly the words of his departure truly hit you.

“NO!”

All the men flinched at you shrill call, the one you knew the most sending you his typical bitter glare. “You, firstly,” he drawled, pointing an accusatory finger at you, “Need to stop drinking!”

“But I’ve only had two mugs!” you exclaimed. “And it only tastes like water!”

“It’s three, actually,” he corrected, propping both hands on his hips. “And I do not want some whiny, drunk witch while I travel.”

“Hyunjin!” Chan scolded, instantly at your side. “Why are you calling the poor girl a witch?”

“Mr. Chan,” you recited, as if you were a bard about to sing poetry, “This insufferable man has been abusing me with this term all day!”

A gasp escaped the owner of the bar, who then frowned at the man accused. “You monster!”

“Dear God,” he mumbled, ready to leave the inn then and there. It was a shame that he owed you a favour, or else he would have abandoned you in the forest.

Hwang Hyunjin did not like doing favours for others. Even if they derived from pretty young ladies with magical hair.

A scowl marred his full lips at the strange thought.

“I am not leaving,” you declared, dragging him down to reality as you took a hefty gulp of your ale. You smacked the cup down, eyes never leaving his. “And you are going to stay with me till I am done.”

That’ll show him. You were extremely confident that he would listen, now that you told him off. Your brain, now a little fuzzy, praised you for standing your ground, along with a smiling Chan and Seungmin. Wait, did Chan have a twin? He did not before, so why was there two of him before you?

“Oh, hurry up, then!” The man roared, and you flinched from his tone before the words settled in. That then caused you to harbour a complacent smile upon your face, and when he caught sight of it he let out a groan. “And for God’s sake, get me something to drink!”

Seungmin obliged, chuckling at his friend’s tantrum, and Chan only ruffled his half-ponytail, messing it up slightly. “That’s the spirit, Hyunjin,” he said. “Learn to relax.”

“How can I relax when my ex-partner is about to sell off everything we made together?”

“Even Jisung would need his rest,” the elder countered, sitting the younger down onto the seat opposite yours, which looked a little less sharp even with your blinking. Were these the consequences of drinking? Were there consequences for drinking?

Well, you did not seem to care. Not when it tasted so divine.

“If I do not catch the bastard because of this wit-ow!” he was interrupted by a pinch of his gut, done by Chan over his lack of manners. “I mean girl!

“If this girl—” he knifed you with a look, which you returned with a feline grin, as you drank some more. “—is the reason I do not catch Jisung, I will willingly kill her in his place.”

“Whatever you say!” you hollered much too loud, earning a deep snarl from the man as Seungmin curved through the customers and brought more drinks, propping his friend’s drink before him.

Hyunjin wrapped his fingers around the black handle, and on cue, you raised your own mug.

“To catching whoever annoyed pony boy this time!” you declared in a mighty roar.

Laughter rang from all around the tavern, yet the man you targeted only grumbled, awkwardly clutching tufts of his locks before taking a swig of his drink.

Alcohol was shared throughout the evening, an airy and boisterous atmosphere lingering in the candle-lit room, orchestrated by you as you told your dream of seeing the famous fireworks of Corona. You informed them through ale-tainted words of their importance for you, as they happened on your birthday without fail every year, and when the men around you heard they all hooted an early happy birthday to you, all toasting to you and your contentment.

At one point, at what you thought was your fifth glass, you scrambled on top of the table, to Hyunjin’s absolute horror, and you requested another toast.

“To people like me and you!” you exclaimed to the tavern, and everyone cheered so loudly that you thought your ears would lose its purpose.

You then had the brilliant idea to try and jump down from the table - why, you were ready to take the leap when you heard a frightened yelp. Looking down, blinking hard to differentiate one man from another, you saw Hyunjin shooting up from his seat, arms reaching out.

With your mouth parted you felt his long, slender hands grip each side of your waist, and a small gasp escaped you as you as he lifted you in his arms, setting you down upon the tavern stone as quickly as he picked you up. His hands nearly left their place on you when you looked into his eyes, yours so wide at what he did he reflected your action.

Even in the chaos of the tavern around you, you found slight peace within his stone-cold eyes.

The tranquility was short-lived, when he shook his head, hands straying as they gripped the empty mug, turning to Chan, who was downing his own third beer of the night. “I’m going to take my leave now,” he said.

“But it is past dusk!” The owner stood his ground, gathering all the empty mugs. “I cannot have you trotting about in this forest.

“And look—” he pointed to you, who was asking around for yet another mug-full of ale, being guiltily refused by the men surrounding you. “—she is in no state to travel. You both need rest.”

“We are fine,” Hyunjin insisted. “I will take care of the damned witch.”

“Stop it,” Chan warned, setting the objects upon the counter. “Just because she has hair which could wrap around our inn ten times, doesn’t mean she’s a witch.”

“Pony boyyy!”

Grimacing, Hyunjin turned to catch you, offering him a lop-sided smile as you stumbled up to him. “Ponyboy, serve me some ale!”

“Oh my God,” he muttered, looking you over, assessing your rather ridiculous state. “____, we are leaving.”

“Leaving?!” You repeated one horror. “But we cannot leave now!”

“That is what I am saying too!” Chan chimed in.

Hyunjin did not acknowledge his friend’s comment, though. Only your refusal, as he propped his hands on his hips, leaning into you with brows furrowed.

“___,” he whispered, and, oh, why was your breath abandoning you? “You come with me, or I can easily leave you here. You carry on drinking, hmm?”

Well, there it was. Of course, all you wanted to do at the time was drink till only the Den’s ale ran through your veins, but in reality, you knew your situation. The fireworks were mere days away, and although you would have gladly asked any of the others to accompany you to spare the agitation of this long-haired man, you could not dump yourself onto his friends. At least the former owed you a favour.

You had to see the fireworks. And only Hwang Hyunjin could show you in time.

“Fine,” you mumbled, but Hyunjin raised a hand to his ear, mocking a confused expression.

“Wait, I’m sorry, what were you saying?”

“Damn you, I said fine!” you exclaimed right into his ear, making him flinch. “I’m coming with you!”

His amusement had not faded entirely, though, as a ghost of a smile still lingered on his lips. He turned to Bang Chan, who already had his arms held out. “You better not die,” he mused, and the long-haired man only scoffed before hugging his dear friend.

Seungmin, then playing on the piano, waved his hand in goodbye, sending a flying kiss Hyunjin’s way, smiling adorably when the latter rolled his eyes.

Chan also kissed your hand in respect, holding onto to it as you tried to steady yourself. “Farewell, ____,” he said with a radiant smile. “We will try and find you both in the capital if we can find the time.”

“Thank you for the drinks, Mr. Chan!” you yelled with too much enthusiasm, earning a chuckle from the man. “I wish I could repay you, but-”

“There is no need,” he countered kindly, waving off your concern. “Any friend of Hyunjin’s is a friend of mine.”

Scrunching your nose at the thought, you found the said-man already at the door, calling for you to hurry up or else he’ll dump you here and go alone. Sticking your tongue out, you bid your remaining farewells, waving to Seungmin before whirling, the whole tavern chanting goodbye to you as you followed, rather clumsily, Hyunjin out of The Wolf’s Den.

The cool, night air kissed your face as you stepped out into the forest, blinking excessively to familiarise yourself with your surroundings. Soft neighing was heard beside you, and you turned to the sound, finding Hyunjin going through his satchel, now strapped upon Kkami. The boy spared a glance towards you before saying, “Let’s get going.”

You looked at the horse, and suddenly you realised how big the animal really was. You feared even trying to slide your foot in the stirrup, knowing you would fall flat on your rear.

Hyunjin, noticing your uncertainty, huffed out a malicious chuckle. “Oh, so now the bold little witch is scared, now? Of riding a horse?”

“The pan is right beside me,” you warned, wishing your glare would have intimidated the man who teased you. In reality, it only made him laugh some more. “And you already know I’ve never seen a horse in real life, let alone ride one.”

The man watched you rather pityingly, stroking Kkami’s mane before sighing. “Come here, then,” he started, patting the saddle.

You tilted your head, confused. “For what?” You scowled at him, lower lip jutting out. “I am not going anywhere near you.”

“Well then, I hope you enjoy walking in forests at midnight,” he said, holding onto the reins as he propped one foot atop the stirrup. “All alone.”

He was about to hoist himself upon his horse when you groaned out, running to him, hair trailing after you. “Fine! Help me get up the bloody animal!”

Shaking his head, he descended upon the grass before you walked right up to Kkami, a little too big for your liking. He inhaled, a little too loudly, and then his hands gripped your waist, hoisting you up.

You nearly yelped at the contact but remembered to grip onto the reins, propping one leg over the other. Your dress hitched a little higher with the distance, and you felt the eyes of your companion upon the exposed skin for barely a second before he grasped the pommel of his saddle, and climbed atop the horse.

It was then you noticed the sheer closeness of him, right behind you, even more so when he leaned forward, taking the reins from you, his head hovering near yours. If you were not influenced by alcohol, you would have screamed at him for daring to approach you, but you were influenced, enough for a strange, sensational feeling to hit your gut. You tried your best to ignore it as you swiped the air with your raised pan, holding onto your bundles of hair.

“To the Kingdom, Pony boy!”

“Oh, be quiet!” Was his answer before snapping the reins, Kkami instantly obliging.

You instantly lurched back at the sheer force of the horse’s galloping, a shuddering breath whooshing out of you as you collided with Hyunjin’s chest. The animal picked up the pace immediately and swept through the vast expanse of the forest, the light of the moon guiding your way. You held onto the pommel of the saddle, occasionally letting yourself lean against the man behind you. If he noticed you closing the distance, he did not say anything of it.

Soon, the ball of light which accompanied you on your journey was halfway through its own, indicating that midnight had long passed. Fatigue crept up your mind, but with every bounce of the horse had you perking up, irritation marring your features.

“Hyunjiiin,” you whined, watching trees upon trees sweeping past you. “Can we rest already?”

You rather felt more than heard his sigh. “We need to get to the capital.” He snapped the reins, urging Kkami to gallop faster. “It’s already a two-day journey, we need to be as fast as possible.”

This was not acceptable in your mind. Holding onto your hair, you looked over your shoulder, catching your guide watching his path ahead. “But Hyunjin, I am tired!”

“That sounds more like a personal problem to me, ____,” he only said, raising a brow at you. The pathways became thinner, branches barely missing your heads.

“Hyunjiiiiin!”

“What?!” he demanded, turning a right, past the signs. “Stop vexing me, already!”

“Pony boy, I will jump off Kkami if you don’t listen to me!” You warned, already sliding slightly off the saddle. With slight concern you realised that the horse was riding a little too fast for your drunken liking.

“Oh, I dare you to,” the man growled in your ear, already so irritated with your constant rambling. You, on the other hand, found no fear from his threat, only wishing he had not dared you to do something so risky.

Because now, you were going to do just that.

A thunderous shout escaped Hyunjin as you swiped your left leg over, sitting sideways upon the horse and ready to jump off and to your very possible death. With one hand guiding the reins his other immediately stopped you, wrapping around your stomach and pulling you straight against his chests.

“What in fine heavens are you doing?!” The man screamed in anger, causing you to wince. Kkami slowed with the pull of the reins.

You looked up at him, wide eyes with confusion. “Why, what you dared me to!” You answered, as if it was a reasonable action to commit.

Hyunjin did not seem to agree with you on this. “You...you—”

“If you do not stop over, Pony Boy, I will jump once again!” you warned him, already wanting to squirm out of his grip if the damned man was not so strong.

You then flinched when an enraged cry escaped Hyunjin, pulling harshly on KKami’s reins. On command, the horse began to slow its galloping, and when your companion searched for a place to stay he spotted a little opening within the trees, a plain, grassy area among the oaks and bushes. Hyunjin, leading the group into this space, sighed in relief when he saw a little pond among the greenery, and stopped his horse before the calm waters.

The man, swinging his leg carefully behind you, got off the horse, and you waited for him to bring you down, only for him to create distance between you two as he propped his satchel before a large oak tree.

“Ponyboyyy,” you called, but he only looked back, knifing you with a glare.

“Oh, so now you’re afraid to get off the horse?” he taunted, fisted hands upon his hips. “What about ten bloody minutes ago when you were ready to jump to your death?”

“I was a different person then.”

“No!” he countered right away, practically ripping out an apple from his bag. “No, you are still the same, drunk, witch who keeps putting a giant dump on my plans!”

You had the audacity to giggle. “I did not take any dumps on your plan, silly! In fact, was it not me who saved you?”

“Oh, be quiet!” he only demanded, making you laugh a little uncontrollably.

“Will you help me down, already?” you sang out, only to irritate your companion some more. “Or will I have to risk breaking my legs?”

The prolonged silence had you nearly sliding off the horse when you heard his heavy footsteps, harsh grumbling sounding from the trees until Hyunjin advanced to where you sat, dropping your locks of hair upon the ground. Strong hands held onto your waist, and you grabbed onto his shoulders quicker than you thought, clinging onto him as he descended you from Kkami, neighing from the lack of passengers.

His hands left your sides instantly, and you did not know why you missed their presence. Perhaps the alcohol messed with your mind a little too much.

You watched as Hyunjin began to collect some wood, a few thick branches from the trees and bushes scattered around the grasslands. Hair trailing behind, you walked to where he dumped the wood beside the pond, settling yourself with your satchel strapped to you.

Your eyes lingered on him still when he sat down beside you, maintaining a distance as he brought out his flint and steel. Creating fiction, he swiped against the materials until a spark was ignited, and quickly he brought it near the wood until the spark caught on. The man began to blow softly as the fire expanded, catching onto every twig and branch until it spread to the very ends of the wood, illuminating the empty expanse.

Hyunjin brought out a few edibles, while you hugged yourself a little tighter, the past-midnight air powering over the fire. He looked over the strips of meat, and slid his eyes to your satchel.

“Pass me your pan.”

You squint your eyes at him. “And why do you want my pan?”

The man cocked his head, locks of raven hair spilling over his shoulder. “Why would I want a frying pan, ____?”

“Don’t be smart with me!” You chanted, opening up your satchel, the black utensil in display.

“Just give me the damned thing,” he ordered, holding out a hand. You, on the other hand, curled a smile upon your lips as you brought it out, refusing to give him the pan.

“What is the magic word?” You asked, all sweet and sugary.

Hyunjin’s brows dipped in annoyance. “Now!”

“Wrong!” You sang out, swinging the pan in your hand. The gesture seemed to tick the man off even more. “Guess again.”

“____!” He snapped, and you let out a cackle at his reaction. “I am extremely tired and hungry, so stop toying with me and hand me the bloody frying pan.”

“Fine!” You responded, and did not realise the full intensity of you whacking the pan to him till it hit Hyunjin right in the face.

A pained groan escaped him as he dropped his meat, hand instantly rushing to his face to cover the scratch marring his cheek. You let out a shocked gasp, eyes instantly looking at his covered face.

“Oh my God, I am so sorry,” you began, hands reaching to his wrists, but he turned away from you, hissing.

“Damn it,” he cursed, pulling away slightly, and with slight distress saw an angry cut across his cheek. “Are you crazy?”

“Hyunjin, I’m so, so, so sorry, please—” you were about to beg for forgiveness when you had an idea.

“Oh yes!” you exclaimed, which was not received well with the injured beside you. You ignored his grumbling, and grabbed his wrist. “Wait, Ponyboy! Stop covering your face!”

“Stop calling me Ponyboy!” he retorted, but that was not important when you knew how to fix your little mistake.

You brought his hands from his face, and you blinked several times to notice the slash of the rusty pan. “Wait, stay still—”

“What are you trying to do?” he demanded, trying to pry your hands off but then you impaled him with your stare.

“Ponyboy, let me help.”

He matched your glower. “What are you going to do, huh? Save me again?”

You did not answer him, separating a small section of your hair as you wrapped it lightly around your finger. You then reached that hand out, bracing yourself for the touch.

The first caress of your fingers against Hyunjin’s cheek had him completely freezing his complaints.

Noticing, you were careful — so, so careful, when you relished the softness of his skin. It was incredibly unfair; had this man not travelled places, gotten himself in filthy situations, only for his skin to be flawless? You knitted your brows at this detail.

“I’m going to sing, now, okay?” you murmured to him. “Do not be scared over what happens.”

“Oh, because something magical is going to happen, no?” he taunted, eyes darting between you and you hair-engulfed fingers.

You only smiled at his ignorance before you closed your eyes.

Wait, how did the song go again?

Oh yes. I remember. Stupid ale. I’m never drinking again.

You parted your mouth and began to sing.

“Flower, gleam and glow.”

Hyunjin stopped breathing.

“Let your power shine.

Make the clock reverse.

Bring back what once, was mine.”

Hwang Hyunjin stopped breathing, ceased completely because the moment the words fluttered from your mouth, the moment your hair began to glow all over, like molten lava slowly spreading over a volcano, he did not know how to function.

You continued to sing, distinctly aware of his eerie stillness as the hair, brushing against his cheek, performed its healing on the cut, forming more flesh from the damaged skin and repairing itself.

“Heal what has been hurt.

Change the Fate’s design.”

The verses rolled off your tongue, never opening your eyes as your fingers caressed his skin, wonderfully warm underneath you as additional warmth from your hair radiated all around the opening. The fire seemed so insignificant now, when you possessed all the light in the world, threaded within the locks of your hair.

And Hyunjin only watched, eyes starstruck over your transformation.

“Save what has been lost.

Bring back what once was mine…”

At last, you opened your eyes, meeting with the sole man in the forest. His awe-filed gaze beheld you, in all your celestial glory, and more warmth radiated from you, specifically from your cheeks.

You nearly forgot to end the healing poem.

“What once was...mine.”

The glow lingered when you closed your mouth. Your fingers lingered along his cheek.

His eyes, too, lingered upon yours. Almost unable to stray.

Even when his hesitant hand raised to your fingers, feeling the cut on his skin - now gone, courtesy of your witchcraft.

No. Not witchcraft. Magic.

“I…” he tried to say, but his words were paused, crippled under your fantastical abilities. “It...it is healed.”

You felt your hair’s light begin to dim. “I do not lie, Ponyboy.”

His gaze darted all over your face, one glance at your parted lips and felt another sense of warmth heating his face. “Hmm. I guess not.”

Something within you wished he would lean a little closer, share some of the heat which you were losing the longer you stayed silent. You dared not take the step, despite your entire mind begging you to stop being a coward.

Come on, Ponyboy. Do not fear like I do.

Perhaps it was only wishful thinking.

For the man clasped your fingers, and brought them down from his face, the hair curled around loosening. His hand, letting yours go, strayed to his side, where the damned frying pan lay discarded.

Hyunjin did not feel much like cooking anymore.

“We should sleep,” he said, leaning against the tree trunk. “There is still a day’s journey left for Corona.”

You only nodded, rounding up your locks and attempted to create a make-shift bed from the volume. He watched you work, shivering slightly from the icy night air, despite the fire still burning.

When finished, you dusted your dress, laying down upon the hair-bed, facing Hyunjin’s left, the side of his face darkened by the direction of the moonlight. He spread his leg before him, sighing out, and crossed his arms, closing his eyes.

Even then, he heard your teeth chattering.

Of course, he could always ignore it. It was not like him to care for the wellbeing of others, especially those who managed to piss him off every time they opened their mouth.

He glanced at you.

There you were, knees raised to your chest, curled up in a little ball with your masses of hair, engulfing you almost completely. Even with your magical advantages you trembled under the midnight chill, cursing nature for being too, literally, cold.

Hyunjin cursed too, but himself, when he took off his turquoise vest, sliding it off his arms, and stretched towards you.

It was your turn to still under another’s presence, as the leather attire settled on you like a blanket, instantly warming you under the shade of the oak trees. You let out a soft hum at the heat, and the man widened his eyes at the reaction. He found it annoyingly endearing.

“Thank you, Ponyboy,” you murmured to him, a lazy gaze on him.

He did not say anything in return. Only went back to his original position, fingers pinching his hair grip, sliding it out as his locks escaped from the tie, cascading his shoulders as he smoothed them down. He then sat down, leaning against the tree, spreading a leg before him.

A comfortable silence settled upon the both of you, save for the leaves rustling from the breeze and the sound of crickets scattered around the forest. You closed your eyes, fatigue creeping over you, but you held on to your conscious, a few unanswered questions in mind.

“Hey, Ponyboy?”

You heard, rather than see, the man sigh.

“Hmm?”

Keeping an eye closed, you observed his lack of movement, a hand upon his raised knee. “Why did you agree to letting me come with you?”

A soft scoff emitted from him. “Because you would have knocked me out with that damned frying pan if I said no.”

“No I would not!” you argued, but when he shifted his eyes to you in disbelief, you found yourself doubting your own words. “Well, well...you would have defended yourself just fine!”

“Whatever you say,” he said, facing ahead once more.

The quiet was blanketed upon the both of you once more, yet you still looked at him. Dear God, nature was truly unjust for making him so ethereal.

“Is there something else you wish to ask me, witch?”

You pouted at the name. “Do not call me that.”

“And you can keep calling me Ponyboy?”

The mention of the endearment had you giggling once again. “And what about it,” you mused, smirking,”Ponyboy?”

You smiled harder when Hyunjin tutted. “You are truly...impossible!”

A laugh escaped you, you shifting in your bed of hair. You could not help biting your cheek, as you wished to say one more thing to your companion, the man who had closed his eyes, ready to sleep.

“I can feel you looking at me,” he said, making you blink away the slight daze you were in.

You bit your lip before parting your mouth. “I…” you brought his vest closer to yourself.

“I just wanted to say thank you.”

Hyunjin opened his eyes.

“For what?”

“You know…” you ran a hand over his turquoise vest. “This. The inn...letting me come with you in general.” He was about to open his mouth to object, but you stopped him. “No, shush! You did not have to.”

He rested his stare upon you, locking his hands over his knee. “You saved me from death, ____. It is the least I can do.”

“Well,” you murmured. “Thank you anyway. For putting up with me.” you let out a huff. “Drunk and sober.”

A small chuckle emitted from him, raking his locks back. “I am never letting you drink again.”

“I bet.” you could not help the slight burning of your cheeks. “I must have been such a bane to your existence this entire time. I would not have been surprised if you left me at that inn.”

There was a pause after, and you figured he was tired of talking so you closed your eyes, ready to lose yourself to temporary oblivion.

Then you heard his whisper.

“I would never do that, ____.”

You dared not look at him. God, you could feel him looking at you, but you did not dare, for you feared what would happen if you matched your stare.

So you kept your eyes close, the image of a certain long-haired man lingering in your mind as you slept.

And the certain long-haired man you thought of, slumped against his tree, only watched you drift away to another world, wondering whether you truly were the bane of his existence.

The answer he received, as he closed his own eyes, scared him.

For no matter how drunk, how tenacious you might be, he would still not have abandoned you at the inn.

He could not have abandoned you at the inn. Anywhere, for that matter.

It was that rather strange thought, and his even stranger heart rate, which finally had him joining you in slumber.

THE TWO OF YOU TRAVELLED FOR ANOTHER TWO DAYS BEFORE YOU REACHED YOUR DESTINATION.

By that time you had fully recovered from your drunken state, and went through with the dire consequences that brought with it. Of course, Hyunjin made sure to mock you as your head hurt throughout the journey, and only ceased when you whipped out the frying pan, promising to hit him properly this time.

You both were actually arguing over the last slice of cheese when you looked towards the path, and spotted the giant, cream-coloured turrets, shooting up in the sky, peeking out from the trees. You let out a scream then, making Hyunjin nearly drop the cheese, and you took the reins from the boy as Kkami galloped faster towards the kingdom.

“Slow down, ____!”

But you did not listen to him, your hair about to fall from the horse had your companion not held onto the masses, and your blood began to thrum under your skin when the lining of the trees broke.

An excited scream lurched out of you.

A baby pink bridge stretched beyond your vision, guiding you to the entrance of the kingdom. It was plated in solid gold, and several people walked up and down, smiling politely at you as you stopped Kkami before the start. The entire castle was in full view, despite the length of the bridge, and you could barely contain the thrill which drummed in your veins.

“Hyunjin, do you see this?”

He did not share your raging enthusiasm. “Just carry on riding, witch!”

You stuck your tongue out to him before you snapped the reins, Kkami starting off on the bridge. You heard the waves lap against the stone, the clear blue water twinkling in the sun, and the citizens watched you rush past in mild surprise, not expecting someone to be this excited for entering the capital.

But of course you were excited. Especially when you arrived at the place you’ve been dreaming to see on your birthday.

“____, you heathen, slow down or you’ll get us killed!” Hyunjin shouted over the rapid clicking of the horseshoes over the stone.

You only obliged when you passed the entrance, guards nodding, and slowed Kkami’s gallop to a mild trotting around the streets. There was buzzing all around, thatched houses displaying colourful banners, depicting the fireworks which were to occur that evening, and many people seemed to have dressed up, enjoying each other’s company, children running around with kites and ribbons, playing and simply having fun.

It made you smile a little, seeing everyone in such harmony. You hoped you would be able to join in.

Hyunjin jumped off the horse, to your surprise, dusting himself off. “Off,” he ordered, hands out, and you complied, wrapping your arms around his neck as he brought you down, bare feet touching the cobblestone. Your hair tumbled down from the saddle, and a few people nearby watched in awe at your neverending locks.

“Why are we getting off?” you asked, picking up as much of your hair as you could.

Hyunjin grabbed onto the ends which you could not carry, one hand guiding Kkami along with him. “The fireworks are still hours away.” He began to walk, leading you deeper into the streets of Corona. “So I’m going to use this time to search for the whereabouts of someone.”

“Oh, is this the whole Jisung business?” your eyes darted everywhere, each flash of colour, of each depiction, drawing, painting of the fireworks.

You saw the man visibly stiffen. “Yes,” he muttered, fingers tightening on the reins. “I know a few friends in the city who might know where he went.”

“Show me the way, then!” you declared, returning each awe-filled smile one sent you. “If you have more friends like Mr. Chan and Seungmin then I want to meet them!”

Clicking his tongue, he said, “If you’re going to end up drunk with them I’d rather you didn’t.”

“You’re just jealous that your friends like me more than you,” you mused.

“You keep thinking that,” he only said dryly, though he feared that might be true. You had a habit of creating an unforgettable impression of yourself to others.

You certainly left that impression on the poor man who walked oh so carefully beside you.

Another turn of a street and you were met with various shops, the scent of various savories and sugary desserts tempting your nose, and your eyes being bombarded with all the goods from around the country. You demanded Hyunjin to provide you with some pastries, but he only glared in rejection, moving on from the stalls.

The man then stopped before a flower shop, dozens of different forms scattered around the opening. Stepping aside what nature has to offer, Hyunjin went inside, only to be met with more flowers.

“Felix?!”

“Who is that?” you asked, but your question was answered when a small, blond haired man stepped out from the back door, holding a bouquet of roses in his little hands. He adorned a peach-coloured shirt and black trousers, leather shoes thudding as he walked inside the shop.

This man smiled brightly at seeing your companion. “Oh, afternoon, Hyunjin!” he greeted. “I’m surprised to see you here..”

“I was not going to come to Corona so early, as well, but something has come up.” He looked around, tying Kkami’s reins onto the wooden column, holding up the shop sign. “Say, has Jisung met you in the past two days?”

Felix furrowed his brows in thought, sliding the roses in an intricately decorated vase. “No, actually,” he admitted. “I haven’t seen him in about two months.”

“Damn it,” Hyunjin seethed, playing with a stray lock. “Is Jeongin here?”

“He’s outside, but he’ll be back any moment.” Felix then looked past you and your companion, and parted his mouth. “Ah, here we go!”

You turned around, and instantly softened at the beautiful boy which skipped into the flower shop, black curls bouncing along his step as he held bags, stained slightly with grease. “Felix, look!” He proclaimed, holding his possessions out and catching a glimpse of all the sugary goodness Hyunjin refused to buy you. “Lunch!”

The said-man rolled his eyes, dusting his hands. “You are crazy if you think I’m going to let you eat all of those pastries for lunch.”

“Oh, don’t be such a stick-in-the-mud!” Jeongin whined, propping the bags on the counter. He widened his grin at seeing the long-haired man. “Hyunjin!”

“Hey, buddy,” you heard him say, while he brought out a hand to ruffle the boy’s hair. “Tell me you’re still as troublesome for Felix as before.”

“I could never let you down,” Jeongin drawled, earning a laugh from his elder.

He then turned to you, and his mischievous demeanour dissolved into amazement. “Oh my, miss, your hair!” His eyes skimmed over the locks, astonishment growing. “I’ve never seen anything like this before!”

“It can be a nightmare,” you confessed, dropping the masses of hair from your arms. “Carrying it, at least.”

Jeongin studied your phenomenon a little longer. “Miss, may I offer you assistance, then?”

You raised a curious brow. “And what would that be?”

“Well, if it can be bothersome,” he started, locking his hands behind his back, a little shy. “How about I braid it for you?”

“You…” your eyes widened, your fingers threading through your hair. “Can you do it?”

The young boy looked to Hyunjin, who very much doubted him. “I mean, you can go about your business, and until then I can take some trouble away from the lady.”

“Jeongin,” Felix warned. “Don’t go asking things like that!” He turned his eyes towards you, apologetic. “I’m deeply sorry, my lady, but this boy is still learning to hold his tongue.”

“No, no, it’s alright, Mr. Felix,” you reassured him, facing Hyunjin as he, too, pondered over this offer.

The long-haired man eyed the youngest a little warily. “I will be nearby, so I guess ____ can stay.” he then knitted his brows. “If I hear that you caused any inconvenience to her—”

“Oh, don’t you worry, Hyunjin, we’ll be fine!” Jeongin sent you a dazzling grin, bowing. “I will be on my best behaviour.”

Felix propped a little hand to his hip. “I’ll make sure of it.”

Hyunjin slid his eyes to you, parting his mouth. “You’ll be okay, right?”

You shook your head. “I’ll be fine!” Raising your hands, you turned the man around, pushing him out of the flower shop. “Go and find that Jisung man of yours and let me enjoy my birthday!”

“Alright, alright!” he looked over his shoulders. “I’ll be back in a couple of hours.”

“Don’t miss me too much, Ponyboy!” you simpered, to which the man only rolled his eyes, leaving your sight as he turned to another corner.

You then turned to the two boys, smiling kindly. “In advance, I apologise if I annoy you with my rambling.”

Laughing, Felix gathered up a pot of orange tulips, turning towards the back door. “Ah, don’t be sorry, Miss ____, consider us good friends! I’ll be going in and out to check up on lunch but Jeongin will be here.”

“I won’t bore you, promise!” the younger exclaimed. “I have many good stories of Hyunjin!”

“Now that,” you get out as you laugh, “Is something I wish to hear.”

“Only for you, Miss ____,” Jeongin mused, gesturing towards a stool sat beside the counter. “You can sit here while I braid your hair. I don’t want you getting tired.”

You thanked him, walking over and settling yourself upon the cushioned seat. “If you can tie up all this mess, then I owe you a huge favour.”

The boy stepped towards your back, assessing how he was going to start this difficult process. Making an approving noise, he then grabbed the bags he first held when he came inside, bringing out a sugared doughnut and holding it out. “Snack?”

Seeing the treat had you yelling in joy. “Of course!” you took the doughnut from him, immediately digging in. “Thank you, Mr. Jeongin!”

“Please, Miss ____, just call me Jeongin,” he offered, separating your locks into three sections, splitting them downwards and creating distance between them on the floor. “I feel much too old when you call me that.”

“As long as you call me only ____,” you said as you ate, watching the busy street. You then felt a faint tightness on your scalp, and sensed the boy’s fingers commencing their task.

As Jeongin worked on braiding your hair, you slowly depleted his sweets, striking up conversations of the Kingdom, the shop and the people who dwelled here. You learned a great deal from his words, describing you the constant merriment within the walls throughout the year, yet today was the most important day for Corona - the fireworks celebrating the ascension of the King and Queen who lived in the castle.

The young boy also explained his relation to your grumpy companion, explaining that their acquaintance originated from childhood, when Hyunjin would fight off any bullies which tried to pick on him, yet would be the first to tease him whenever he had the chance. They, along with Felix and others, all grew up together, but Hyunjin had been the first to adventure out of Corona along with Jisung, who, too, was a childhood friend.

It was welcoming, hearing the humble beginnings of Hwang Hyunjin. A true shame he turned out to be a grouchy and annoying bastard.

You cocked your head, reassessing that statement. Well, he was not a bastard. That was a much too harsh a word to describe him. In truth, you wished you still harboured the feelings you first inhibited when you met him.

In truth, you found yourself warming up to him.

I would never do that, ____.

That night, beside the moonlit pond, when he declared in a quiet murmur that he would never abandon you, despite your irritable demeanour. It was terrifying, because it was all you could think about. Although it had not even been a week since you healed him in the woods, here you were, pondering over him as if you had been all your life.

This only added to your fear.

“Isn’t that so, ____?”

You perked up at Jeongin’s question, looking over your shoulder to see him already so far ahead in his task. The plait, each third huge and reducing the original length of your hair. You observed with further fascination that the boy had created another network of braiding, woven into the bigger thirds, and you let out a sigh of wonder, thankful for your miracle for the first time. “I’m so sorry, but I couldn’t listen.”

“Oh, I was just saying how Hyunjin should have stayed in the Kingdom, but he left to do whatever he did with Jisung.”

You brought your feet upon the railings of your stool. “Jeongin, what does Hyunjin actually do?” You asked, curiosity fresh on your tongue.

“Apart from being a pain in the rear?” A laugh escaped you, and Jeongin continued braiding, nearly finished. “Well, all I know is that he’s involved in a lot of trading circles. Every week I used to see him bringing something new from foreign lands.”

“So a true adventurer, then?”

Jeongin propped a third into another. “In a sense.”

After a half-hour Felix joined the two of you, mitten-covered hands holding a tray of hot bread as he set it on the countertop. He admired his friend’s artistry as well, taking off the gloves and watching for a little while as Jeongin was on the last parts of your hair.

He then spoke. “I have an idea.”

The younger kept working as he said, “Go on.”

Stepping past you so he faced you, Felix propped a finger over his chin. “Hmm...yes…”

You gave him a confused look. “What do you mean, ‘yes’?”

But he hurried out of the shop, grabbing different variations of small flowers, all ranging from soft, pastelled colours, and walked over to you again.

“May I?” He asked, and you nodded, understanding what he was about to do.

As you thought, the man picked out a blue forget-me-not, and planted it within the folds of your hair.

“Hmm,” he only got out, continuing this as he scattered more flowers in your locks, adding colour as he then moved past you, going behind as the flowers now littered the back of your head, lining against the plaits.

“Felix, this will take you forever!” You said, worried that you may waste their time.

“No it won’t, Miss ____,” he waved off your concern, carrying on the task as if it would not take him a whole day to complete. “We want your hair looking immaculate for tonight. Especially if it’s your birthday today!”

You smiled at the kindness, initiating further conversation with Hyunjin’s friends as they kept you entertained throughout the afternoon. It was the first time meeting them, and already you wished to see them often. Secretly, you envied your companion for having such sincere friends.

You, on the other hand, were never given the chance to create such special bonds.

It was another hour before you heard a satisfied noise escape the youngest, and you turned, catching a victorious grin on his face.

“It’s done, ____!”

On cue, you looked down, and gasped.

The finished braid was a masterpiece: all the networks of plaits were worked intricately into the original big three, and at the end were tied by a band of daisies, knotted so tightly there was hardly room for the locks to be set free. Felix tucked in the last of the flowers, and this added feature enhanced your hair even more, like a little garden of your own growing in your locks. The whole result had you returning their smiles.

“Oh my God, Felix, Jeongin!” you started, swivelling on your stool, braid following. “It's exquisite!”

The two mocked a bow at you, receiving your applause with grace. “It was our pleasure, ____,” the elder said, a toothy grin on display. “I know I like having flowers in my hair.”

“Now you’ll be the talk of the town,” Jeongin drawled, which had you hesitantly laughing. The younger’s eyes then perked up past you. “Oh, look, just in time!”

You turned in your seat.

Stilled at seeing Hwang Hyunjin catching sight of you. Your new hairstyle.

His eyes lit up at the change.

He saw the huge plait, and the flowers which littered in your hair, and thought he saw paradise inhabiting earth. He then saw your face accompanying this hair, and knew paradise will be staying for a while. Taking in the decoration, the intricate consideration of detail within your locks, had you elevated in every single way.

By God, he found you so beautiful.

Jeongin raised a brow over Hyunjin’s dumbfounded reaction. “Are you not going to say anything?”

But the man was silent, hands on his satchel tightening. He then saw an empty expanse in your hair, just above your ear, and had a little idea.

Spotting his favourite flower, he picked it up from the stash outside the shop, and slowly walked towards you, your eyes never leaving his.

When he stopped before you, he raised the white rose, sliding the small stem within your locks. It found home above your ear, and the man nearly swooned at how perfectly it suited you.

He curled his lips at the sight of you. “You look...ethereal.”

You cursed at the hairs at the back of your neck, which stood erect at the soft praise. “Thank you, Ponyboy.”

Jeongin let out a snort, in result receiving a glare from Felix. “Ponyboy?”

Hyunjin’s smile faltered. “Do not even ask,” he only snapped, and returned his focus to you. “Let’s go.”

You stood up from your stool. “Where are we going?”

He began to walk out of the shop. “Our next stop,” he said, smiling at your scowl over his vague answer.

As he glanced at his friends, he saluted, a gesture of friendly mockery. “Thank you, you two.”

“Anytime, Hyunjin,” Felix said, and he took your hand, pressing a chaste kiss upon your skin. “And thank you for letting us decorate your hair.”

“No, please,” you countered, “Thank you for such an extraordinary present. I won’t forget the gesture.”

“Do see us again, ____!” Jeongin exclaimed, which, after you chuckled, you promised you would.

After waving the two goodbye, you followed Hyunjin out of the flower shop, a confident stride in your step as your flower-kissed braid trailed after you.

The streets were fuller, the crowds more loud and excited as you two squeezed through people, with Kkami trotting behind on Hyunjin’s leash. The silly horse tried to pluck a few flowers from your braid but you made sure your hair stayed intact, having no intention of it being ruined in any circumstances.

“Hyunjin, where are you taking me?” You demanded, trudging through the streets. Your feet, still bare, began to hurt. “If we don’t stop soon I’ll collapse!”

He spared a glance at your step, wincing as a pained groan escaped you. “It’s not far,” he said, looking ahead once more.

“Ponyboy, can’t you carry me?” you whined, and when he turned back to see you, you braced yourself for a verbal lashing with the frown he adorned.

Instead, you were hit with something quite different.

After a hard, ragged sigh, he paused his walking, widening his arms from behind. “You better not be heavy,” he warned.

You watched him hunchbacked, dumbfounded at his acceptance. Since when was he complacent on giving you comfort?

Your cheeks then burned when you were reminded of that night again. Of the turquoise vest, which, although was hugging his lean figure now, was hugging you.

“Are you going to just keep staring at me,” Hyunjin jeered, bringing you back to reality, “Or are you actually going to jump on?”

“Oh!” you got out, and stepped towards him.

You slid your arms around his shoulders, locking your hands upon his chest. You then felt his hands wrap around your thighs, and a small breath went free from your throat as he hitched you upwards, grip tightening on you.

“You are very lucky to have me, witch,” the man gritted out.

He then yelped as you pinched his shoulder. “You are very lucky to have me, Ponyboy,” you only mused, and raised your fist in the air, despite the growing nerves. “Come on now, let’s get going!”

Hyunjin obliged you, starting up a heavy, yet steady pace towards their destination. Each time he took a step, it radiated off you, and you hoped to all the heavens above that your body would not give up on you. Every time the man hitched you higher, though, had the possibility becoming much less likely.

You had not realised just how much his hands on your thighs affected your very senses.

A few specifics from the crowd watched the two of you in adoration, murmuring how sweet it was for your lover to hold you when you were tired. When Hyunjin heard these whispers he nearly dumped you on the cobblestone, but you did not miss the scarlet blush which developed on his face. The rather charming image had you smiling as you rested your cheek against his neck.

The man kept his hands secure, never letting you go till you arrived at wherever he wished to take you. You only knew you arrived when his grip on you loosened, straightening his back so you had no choice but to feel the street beneath you. So bizarre that you missed his touch — his warm, welcoming fingers.

You followed to where he looked, and saw the front of the shop littered with shoes. Different types of footwear, all neatly stacked on wooden racks, their sizes carved into the wood. You did not have the time to carefully admire each design before Hyunjin tied Kkami to another column, feeding him an apple before taking your hand and leading you inside the store.

The minute you entered you were welcomed with a homely extravagance, more and more shoes being displayed all around you, different colours and patterns luring you into getting all the pairs. It was a little odd, that your companion wished to show you this place so eagerly, but when he rang a bell atop the counter, and another man with fire-kissed hair entered from another door, furiously sewing on the back of a child’s shoe, you assumed that he must be acquainted.

“Minho!” Hyunjin exclaimed, following the said-man to where he paused his stride, setting the shoe down and breaking the thread, finished.

“And what do you want?” was the heartfelt response, as the seller put the object under the counter. Hyunjin mockingly pouted, to which his friend scoffed. “Oh, you’re not getting any free clothes this time! Pay or go away!”

You let out a small chuckle at his tagline, and the man’s eyes darted to you, brow raised. “And who is this lady?” he inquired, fingers drumming on the countertop. “Who is much too beautiful to be accompanying this swindler?”

“Hey!” the man beside you objected, but you could not help the laughter which spluttered from your lips.

“My name is ____,” you said, locking your hands behind your back. You then roamed your eyes about the room, turning to him once again, awed. “Did you make all these yourself?”

“Why, of course!” Minho opened up the countertop, joining you as he admired his work. “I take pride in my work, and am glad you appreciate them.” He then glanced at Hyunjin, squinting his eyes. “It’s honest money, after all.”

Confused, you looked to your companion but he only rolled his eyes, waving off the comments. “Save the sarcasm for later, buddy,” he drawled, and propped a hand upon his friend’s shoulder. “Now show me your best shoes for women.”

You widened your eyes. “Hyunjin?”

Minho curved his lips. “Oh, trying to delve into a new world, now?”

“Shut up,” was his answer, as the long-haired man strolled further into the shop, right where all the elegant, more colourful shoes were inhabited. “Ah, here we go.”

You followed him hurriedly, not quite understanding. “Hyunjin, what are you doing?”

He only trailed a finger across the racks, humming to a few shoes which caught his eye. “Getting you a present.”

This only added to your shock. “What?” You breathed out, but he was too busy picking out a pair of boots, dark with silver lining around the edges. “Hyunjin!”

“How do you feel about these?” He held them out to you, who still did not comprehend why he was giving you a birthday present.

Well, it was your birthday. So why did you expect him to give you nothing at all?

“____!”

You blinked. “What?”

He holds the black boots. “What are your thoughts?”

Before you could answer, Minho clicked his tongue, walking to where you both stood. “Hyunjin, do you not know anything of styling?”

“What do you mean by that?” The long-haired man furrowed his brows.

“Whatever you think I did.” The shoe-seller turned to you, mock pity in his gaze. “My lady, let me help you out. This buffoon does not know the art of attire.”

“Ugh!” Your companion grumbled, and you could not help but melt a little at his pouted irritation.

Minho watched his friend cross his arms, looking away in annoyance. “Let him sulk,” he said, and smiled at you. “Until then, I’ll find you something worth your beauty.”

You return his enthusiasm, letting him whisk you further into the women’s section, all the shoes in fashion at the time displayed before you, begging to be worn by you. Minho’s designing eye had to be commended — the man knew how to create.

“Let me see what you’re wearing,” the orange-haired man ordered, and you gave him a little twirl of your violet dress, your flower-littered braid following.

“The flowers are adorable, might I add,” he said, and you thanked him excitedly, watching him choose more softer colours to pick your perfect pair of shoes from.

At last, his hands settled upon soft, ballerina-like shoes, lilac in colour and ribbons flaring out from the back. With a satisfied hum he brought out the pair, holding them out to you. “What do you think?”

You brought out your hands, holding the shoes, and felt your smile grow. “They’re so pretty,” you gushed, feeling the silky ribbon between your fingers. “May I try them on?”

“Go right ahead, my lady.” He gestured to a leather seat, and you sat yourself down, just as Hyunjin walked up to Minho, scowl still there. “Are you done moping around now?”

“Quiet, you,” your companion snapped, but his agitation faded when he saw you dust away at your feet, and slide them inside the shoes. Your other foot pursued the first, and you stood the ribbons scattered to the floor.

“You’re supposed to tie them,” Minho explained, about to show you when a hand stopped him.

He was met with Hyunjin’s determined features. “I’ll do it.”

You watched as the long-haired boy stopped before you, hands landing on your shoulders as he pushed you back on the seat. He then knelt before you, taking the attached ribbon in his hands. “May I?”

Your heart skipped happily a little beat. “Of course.”

Raising your leg slightly, you offered him easier access as he began looping the two strips of ribbon, one overlapping the toner and continuing this cycle till the material wrapped all the way up to your shin. You slid your dress higher, and only stopped when Hyunjin tied a little bow at the top of your entangled ribbon. He then did the same to your other leg, effortlessly wrapping the strips all around your leg till it hit the shin once more. After another bow, his fingers lingered on your leg, barely skimming over your ribbon-adorned skin.

He looked up at you, and an unrecognisable haze lifted in his eyes. “Happy birthday, ____.”

You certainly could recognise the butterflies in your stomach, fluttering much too uncontrollably. “Thank you, Hyunjin.”

Perhaps you both could have relished in this position forever were someone’s voice not dragged you both down to reality.

“Are you both going to keep eye-rutting each other or am I going to get my fare?”

You immediately stood up, feeling yourself heat up over the comment. Hyunjin, too, snarled at his amused friend, buttoning and unbuttoning the top of his vest. “I’ve got it, you greedy prick.”

“Good,” Minho only said, smirking at the two of you as he retreated to his counter, where all his gold was stored. You and Hyunjin followed him there, the slight distance having too much weight for it to be comfortable.

Your companion brought out a little bag, jingling as he set it upon the countertop. “This alright?”

Taking the bag, his friend weighed it with his hand, and nodded in satisfaction. “Better than that.”

“Thank you so much for this, Minho,” you began, putting a hand to your chest in respect. “I will cherish these shoes.”

“You better, my lady,” he teased, but returned your gesture.

You turned to leave with Hyunjin, beginning to head out when he stopped. “Oh, I nearly forgot!”

He rushed back to the seller, who sighed. “You just can’t leave me alone, can you?”

His question was ignored, and was instead presented with another. “Minho, have you seen Jisung recently?”

This had the fire-kissed man cocking his head. “I did,” he answered, shocking Hyunjin. “Yesterday, actually.”

“By God—” The long-haired man could barely contain himself. He whirled to you, pointing to the entrance. “You go outside and untie Kkami. I’ll be right out.”

“Hyunjin,” you tried to object, but the look on his face, the silent pleading, had you giving in, nodding grimly as you exited the shop, waving to the owner.

Kkami welcomed you with a hearty neigh, and you stroked his mane, slowly untying his reins. “Why does he not tell me things?”

Your answer was another noise from the horse, and you patted the creature, leading it out on the streets. The sun was descending, light still clear yet the first glimpses of oranges had arrived. The fireworks were mere hours away.

The man had not come out after a while, you looking back every now and then, catching concern in his dazzling features. The people’s excitement did little to have you join in, and you began to worry that something may be wrong.

You were about to go inside the shoe shop once more when you caught sight of Hyunjin exiting, hands fisted at his sides, expression grim.

Stopping before you, you worked up the courage to ask first. “What’s going on?”

Surprised, you noticed he could not even look at you. His eyes drifted away, a tick in his jaw, teeth grazing over another. Oh, the man was enraged.

When let in a deep breath, he faced you, catching guilt in his slender eyes. “I cannot be with you when the fireworks occur.”

Silence.

Despite the merriment around the two of you, the pure joy radiating in the kingdom, you felt your heart stop. “What?”

The man tightened his little ponytail, locks still caressing his neck as he tried to avert your gaze. “I have to be elsewhere when nightfalls, but I can show you where you can see them best, so you’ll be okay-”

“Hyunjin-”

He continued, closing his eyes. “I don’t want you missing the fireworks, so let me show you the best spot before I have to leave.”

You could not believe your ears. “Hyunjin, I-”

“And I know how important they are to you, so I suggest we start going right now, so I can be on my way-”

He would have gone forever, rambling excuses if you had not looked down, at his clenching, unclenching hands. If you had not reached your own hands out, clasping them with his. The man ceased his digression at the sudden contact, and finally whipped his head to you. His frantic eyes met yours, and something within you cracked.

You did not let go as you breathed out, “What’s the matter, Ponyboy?”

No irritation responded to you from the nickname. Only his commencing of his thumbs, stroking the back of your hands. “I have learned of Jisung’s location.”

Parting your mouth in surprise, you asked, “Where is he, then?”

“I do not know where he is now, but I know where he will go tonight.” his gaze scrutinised you. “And do not think I will tell you of that place.”

“What?” Bewildered, you took a step closer, and noticed the lack of distance between the two of you. At the time, you took no note of it. “Why won’t you tell me?”

“Because for the past few days I’ve been with you, the one thing I’ve learned about you is that you’re incredibly foolish.” You scoffed at this strange declaration, but he carried on. “I know that if you learned where I was going you’re going to follow, especially if I tell you not to go.”

You were about to object, but you shut your mouth, glancing sheepishly back at him. “Well, maybe you should let me come with you!”

“Damn it, ____, I probably would have any other time.” He let out a harsh sigh. “It is much too dangerous tonight.”

“Damn you, Hyunjin, what is it that’s so troubling that you even can’t tell me?” you demanded, your grip on his hands tightening. “What did this Jisung do to you?”

The mere mention of his name had the man hissing. “The bastard crossed me,” he guttered, and you felt his rage pour off of him. “And I’m not going to let him get away with it.”

You watched him helplessly, clinging onto his hands. “Hyunjin, please,” you pleaded. “Please, let me help you.”

As you watched his stare peer into you, you witnessed the chaos behind his eyes, a civil war raging within him whether to trust you or not. You prayed to the heavens that this man, this reckless, insufferable, heartwarming man, would let you in.

He opened his mouth.

“I’m sorry, ____.”

Letting go of your hands, he took the reins of his horse. “It’s too dangerous.” he then murmured to himself, and although it was quiet, you heard the words well enough.

“God forbid if I let you get hurt.”

He then stepped passed you, already walking ahead, leaving you to catch up to his agitated stride.

Of course you were angry. How could you not be? you asked yourself as you followed him, refusing to stroll beside him. You two have been travelling together for nearly a week, yet he still does not trust you enough to tell you of his troubles. Disappointment washed over you more, for ever thinking he would give you a chance.

You knew that if you were in his position, you would tell him everything.

After a few twists and turns of the street, you were met with a network of ports, a whole civilisation mingling upon wooden stilts. Boats of all shoes and sizes docked along the wooden lines, and you saw with mild surprise that barrels of fireworks were filled to brim on each deck.

“Around the evening, this place will clear away, and all the little boats will enter, offering places to see the fireworks.” Hyunjin glanced at you, but you refused to meet his eyes. “Find yourself a boat, and have him row you beyond the kingdom.”

Nodding, you began to descend on the steps, until your wrist was caught by his hand. “____.”

Still, you looked ahead.“What?”

“I’m sorry.” A pause. “You know I’d let you come if circumstances were different.”

Silence was his answer, to his immense dismay. He let go of your hand, and instead had you gripping your horse’s reins. “Take care of Kkami while I’m gone.”

Holding on, you looked back, and made sure he drank in the solemnity of your gaze. “Don’t you dare die on me.”

A little laugh huffed out of him; it was all he could offer, when he turned, and strode into the crowds of Corona.

God. It physically hurt seeing him leave.

Kkami neighed softly. “I know,” you only said, already wishing dusk would arrive.

At least the fireworks were still happening. Something you’ve been wanting to see for years is right before you now.

So with that small consolation, you sat down on the stone steps, watching the port’s business as you stretched your feet, now adorned in a Hyunjin’s birthday present, and waited for time to pass. Sometimes, when your mind drifted to that certain man, you would run a shaking finger over the white rose embedded in your hair.

This was harder than you thought.

The sun began to descend some more, the blue sky morphing into more oranges, reds and pinks. The atmosphere was hushed now, chatter still here and there, but almost awaiting for something. The larger ships had set sail long before, and, just as Hyunjin had said, smaller boats populated the docks, devoid of the fireworks.

Curiosity peaking at your mind, you heaved up to your feet, dusting the back of your dress, and, tugging Kkami, decided to go upon the wooden wharf, taking the longer route without the stairs.

The horse, seeing the water, began to stomp its hooves, but you reassured him, stroking its long face as you led him along the dock, careful of the sailors.

You reached near the end of the dock, and noticed a small boat anchored at the very edge, fireworks stored all around it. There was a small man settled inside the boat, tying up stray objects with rope, whistling sweetly away. You tried to take a step forward, but Kkami neighed loudly, frightened to get closer to the bed of water.

“Kkami!” you seethed, trying to calm the creature down, but it only made more noise, stirring the people around you. Sending them apologetic looks, you took out a carrot, seducing the animal with it until it settled, munching on the vegetable.

“Careful with that fine horse of yours, Miss!”

Startled, you turned around, and saw the same man you were looking at now staring back at you. He had a friendly, curious smile upon his face. His dark locks were swiped back with a dirtied cloth, tying at the back of his neck. His loose shirt followed the sea breeze, and as you took a step closer, his hands came into view, roughened with labour.

Catching your expression, he chuckled to himself, a sweet little sound despite his appearance. “You should know horses don’t like the water much,” he explained, continuing with his work.

“Ah, sorry,” you said, slightly embarrassed. “It’s my first time taking care of a horse. It’s my friend’s, you see.” You could not help the irritation slip.

The sailor sure sensed it. “Oh, no,” he mused, a sympathetic smile on his lips. “Has this friend let you down in any way?”

Careful to tie Kkami along the railings, you walked towards him, fisting your hands. “I was going to watch the fireworks with him,” you confided. “But he just abandoned me! To go heaven knows where!”

The man scoffed, tying the fireworks. “A man, I presume?” you nodded, and he sighed, setting the bunch in his boat. “Just tell me the name, my lady, and I’ll take care of him for you.”

You huffed out a laugh at his offer, waving it off. “Oh, it’s alright. I just wish I knew where he was.”

“I’m sure he’ll come back,” the man reassured you. “As long as he has not gone anywhere near the castle walls.”

You paused as the words left his mouth. “Why?”

He turned to you, leaning back in his boat. “A lot of suspicious dealings happen there, my lady. Almost every thief in Corona sells their faux possessions along the abandoned walls of the palace. Especially today, with everyone distracted by the fireworks.”

The moment you heard this information, you felt your interest spike to the clouds. “Oh?” you sat yourself upon the docks.

“My lady, please.” He gestures to a free seat upon his boat. “I cannot have you sitting on this dirty wood.”

He held out a hand, and you took it, taking a mindful step onto the boat, and, making sure you weren’t going to fall into the waters, stepped inside, hull shaking as you settled down before the man. He let go, and put that hand on his chest. “I’m Changbin, by the way,” he introduced. “I need to prepare for the fireworks but I’m only just behind.” He then regarded your hair, wonderment in his gaze. “How long is your hair?”

“The name’s ____, and longer than you think,” you replied, bringing the massive braid in front of you, stroking the flowers. “You said there were thieves in the Kingdom?”

Changbin looked at you incredulously. “____, there are crooks everywhere around here.” his incredulity then turned a little timid. “I must confess, I was one myself.” he then sat up. “Not anymore, though! I swore never to degrade myself like that ever again.”

“Well, that’s good to hear,” you consoled him. “I assume it would have been entertaining.”

“I guess so.” He relaxed once more, watching the lazy waves lap over each other. “Though I had never done anything too fantastical.” He pondered some more. “Actually, there was one adventure I partook in. Hellish, but incredibly delightful.”

The sailor then exhaled deeply. “Maybe that’s because I was on a job with Hyunjin.”

You were about to ask more when you stilled.

Hyunjin.

“Did…” you knitted your brows, not sure you heard him properly. “Did you say Hyunjin?” You leaned in, now fully focused. “You know him?”

Changbin stared at you for a few seconds before he burst into laughter. “Who doesn’t know of Hwang Hyunjin?

“The most famous thief of the Kingdom.”

Your mouth dropped.

“Hyunjin? A thief?”

“Why, the greatest one out there!” He chuckled some more. “I was very lucky to go on an exploit with him, but he usually stole treasure alone.”

He then corrected himself. “No, in fact, there was someone else he always committed his plundering with. Damn it, I can’t remember the name…”

Your assistance was barely a whisper. “Jisung?”

“Ah, yes!” he exclaimed. “Those two were joined at the hip. Though, mind you, ____, I spied the man wandering around the streets alone.”

“You did?”

A nod was your answer. “He had this big bag with him, and from my previous adventures with them I knew it was Hyunjin’s.” Changbin drummed a finger upon his chin, lower lip sliding over the top. “Something suspicious is amiss.”

With the way your eyes widened, everything coming to you in an instant, you knew.

Something horrific will go down.

Jisung’s apparent betrayal, from the conversation at the tavern. Hyunjin saying it was too dangerous to disclose wherever he was going to go. Changbin revealing a huge trade off occurring around the castle walls, including the big thieves of Corona.

It all made sense.

You suddenly shot up, yelping as you nearly fell off the boat. “Careful!” the man warned, but acting with caution was the least of your concerns when you now knew where that long-haired bastard was.

“Changbin, I have to go to the palace walls,” you said, hopping quickly off the shaking boat.

The sailor, steadying it, stepped onto the docks, too, puzzled over your sudden change. “Good God, why do you want to go tonight?”

He then looked into your eyes. Saw the desperation, the realisation that hit you not moments before.

“Oh dear God!”

Walking to you, he planted a hand upon his forehead.”Hwang Hyunjin’s the friend?”

“Changbin,” you began, looking back on the streets. “He’s in deep trouble. He’s gone near the castle walls to confront Jisung and I’m so scared something’s going to happen.”

Looking ahead, the sailor bit the inside of his cheek, weighing in his options. He glanced at his boat, and the fireworks, needing to be transported near the palace. “We need to be quick, _____.”

Bringing out a dagger, glinting in the new moonlight, he asked, “Do you have a weapon with you?”

You searched through the bags strapped upon Kkami, and whipped out your frying pan. “Got it.”

Changbin raised his brows, but decided against commenting on your choice. “Keep the horse here, then. We need to be as quiet as possible when we arrive at the wall.”

He then stepped past you, leading you up the steps and back into the crowd, making sure you’re close behind. The two of you made little noise as you left the populated streets, diving into private neighbourhoods, avoiding questionable groups who stared at you, and only averted their gaze when Changbin flashed his dagger in the moonlight.

As the palace came closer in view, you felt your nerves return. Not even for yourself, you realised, as you turned another corner, walking silently along the muddied footpaths. More for the long-haired thief who may or not be in extreme danger.

You prayed to the heavens he was okay. Because if something happened to him, you really did not know what you would do. Did not even want to comprehend the turnout of events if things turned sour.

��____.”

You perked up at the mention, realising that you had reached the start of the palace barricade. The walls towered over the two of you, fencing you from the inside of the royal lands. Changbin looked at your right, and sure enough, at the far end, from the houses clustered together in a close, a group of men were gathered. The sailor beside you crept closer, back against the house walls, and you journeyed nearer, the former quickly switching to another residence, taking you with him. Beyond the building, you both studied the group closer. Before you, with his back to you, was a slender figured man, his black longcoat blowing in the night breeze. Although you could not see his face, you heard his uncontrollable cackling, taking a step closer to the group, holding onto a certain fugitive.

You nearly let out a scream. There he was, your esteemed Ponyboy, struggling to free from the thieves’ hold as he raged against the man before you. His semi-ponytail was left down, stray locks tumbling over his face, and his boots dug into the cobblestone.

“Look at you,” this man cooed, leaning into your companion. “All angry and ready to slit my throat.”

“You took what was mine!” Hyunjin roared. He was met with another round of heartless laughter, and you realised that this man was no doubt the notorious Jisung.

“We need a distraction,” Changbin said, looking around the dimmed area. “Otherwise…”

He did not need to say more.

“I took what was needed to send a signal,” Jisung clarified, studying something in his hands. However, you could not see. “That I have no desire to share my treasures with you.”

“You bastard!” the captive growled, but was shoved down by Jisung’s men once more. “I did all the work! I put my life on the line and you know that!”

“A shame that life wasn’t taken,” was his cool answer. “Now I’m going to have to take it myself.”

You and Changbin exchanged fearful glances. You needed to act. Now.

Just as the sailor was about to step into the scene, loud music began to play.

Sounding from nearby, it not only stopped you, but the thieves in front of you. It was a sweet harmonising with a flute and a fiddle, and, puzzled, you saw the same expression on Hyunjin’s capturers.

Then, you heard the voice which led the music.

“Who has the right mind to be singing in a neighbourhood like this?” Changbin whispered furiously, but you only answered his question with a knowing smile.

It was the same, mellow call which you drank to at the tavern. And when another voice joined in, you nearly laughed, already remembering the fond memories.

Mr. Chan and Seungmin arrived just in time.

Jisung turned his head to the direction of the music, and you saw the side of his face, doe eyes marred in irritation, thin lips pursed. “Who the fuck is belting out a song at this hour?” He looked to the four men, pointing to two. “You both! Go check the drunkards and shut them up.”

Obeying the command, the rest still kept an iron grip on Hyunjin, who, you could tell with a broken heart, was losing his strength. The fury, however, was still there, daggering his former partner in crime.

“Now, tell me, Hyunjin,” Jisung mused, wrenching the man’s face forward with a hand, clasping his cheeks. “How did you manage to heal yourself so quickly?” His gaze dipped, to the dried blood stains on his turquoise vest. “I was sure you’d die off from the stab wound.”

“Well, you were wrong, weren’t you?”

Jisung, scoffing, dug his nails in his cheeks, causing Hyunjin to release a pained exhale. “I can see that, you little prick. Now I know it was deep enough to take weeks to heal.”

He leaned in, tilting his head in curiosity. “How did you manage to fix yourself up like that? Where did you find such a miracle?”

Your companion was about to snarl out a retort when his eyes darted beyond Jisung, into the dark. He caught the sight of a white rose.

His eyes, then, caught sight of you.

Of you, hiding in the shade.

His mouth stayed parted.

You pressed a finger to your lips, taking a careful step out of the dark.

“Oi! Hyunjin!” Jisung forced him to look at him again, anger simmering. “What was the miracle?!”

Your long-haired thief watched his once best friend, a still peace harbouring his face. With one last glance towards you, he smirked, sliding his gaze back.

“It was no miracle, Jisung,” he rasped out.

“It was witchcraft.”

Just then, when you were about to swing your frying pan down on Hyunjin’s nemesis, a deafening sound erupted from the earth.

Blinding lights shot into the sky. Exploded into millions more, blazing into different directions. More coloured brilliance followed, illuminating the night.

You felt your soul at a standstill.

“The fireworks!”

Hyunjin, watching everyone distracted, took the golden opportunity and raised his fists to the men’s chins, causing them to yelp in pain. They released his hold on him, and the man wrenched free, already on one of Jisung’s lackey’s.

The leader took note of the commotion, widening his eyes. “For God’s sake, it’s two against one!”

Soon, it was two against two as Changbin raised his knife, charging towards the other man. He landed a damaging hit on his shoulder, and the chase began in taking them down.

His back still to you, you raised the pan, watching him about to charge towards Hyunjin.

You were ready to swing it on his head when the second round of fireworks started.

Looking back, completely off guard, this time they were more victorious, like beacons bursting in the cloudless sky. It was a shame the castle blocked the main view of their ascent, only seeing wisps of the blaze.

However, remembering you have a man to knock out, you turned to see the very nemesis.

Jisung, although not very large in build, had a calculating, cunning face which chilled you to the bone. Even your arms felt numb holding the pan, when his stare penetrated through your every layer.

“Oh my,” he murmured, taking a slow step towards you. Reflexively, you took one back, weapon still out. “And who might you be?”

“Hyunjin’s miracle,” you spat, and you dared to take a full swing of the pan.

To your absolute horror, Jisung instantly dodged, ducking and then grabbing the handle from you. He waved it in the air, grinning like a demon in your scary stories.

“Look at you,” he purred, continuing his tempered pace towards you. Fear curled in your stomach, hands slack at your sides, feet backing away. “Trying to fight me with a kitchen utensil.”

He chuckled darkly. “It’s almost adorable.”

You did not realise how long you were retreating for till your back hit the murky, palace walls. When you caught the predatory gleam in Jisung’s eyes, your breathing nearly ceased to work.

“You really thought you’d save your little thief,” he crowed, daring another step, creeping closer, too close for your liking. He threw the pan behind him, skidding along the cobblestone. “With what? A sailor and a frying pan?”

When he was only a mere few inches from you, he regarded your braided hair, the flowers which littered among each strand. You froze up completely when his fingers reached out, tucking in a stray curl behind the beloved rose.

“Or perhaps it was your infinite locks that healed him.”

You could not suppress the shiver that escaped you, and he, noticing, snickered, planting the hand beside your head. “Where is your salvaged thief now?” he whispered.

The fireworks erupted behind you still, and you closed your eyes, not able to take in what was to happen next. Hyunjin was right. You should never have come here.

But you would have done it again without hesitation. Ponyboy was in trouble, and hopefully he took this opportunity and ran away from this scene.

You would fight a thousand Jisungs to save him, over and over again.

Jisung was about to take the next step, do something unnamable.

Till you heard the loudest PANG!

Instantly, you opened your eyes, and found the wicked man being thrown to the side, thudding on the dirty cobblestone. From the sound of the pang! You knew that this man was unconscious. He ceased to even move.

You whipped your head to whoever knocked Jisung out straight.

And let out a breath you didn’t realise you were holding in.

Hwang Hyunjin stood before you, heaving as he held up your frying pan. His eyes, dilated, were rooted to you, and his mouth was parted, mist escaping his lips and joining the cool night air.

Silence fell upon the close, with Changbin finished dealing with the last of men, and the two of you just stared and stared at each other till you let out a ragged sigh.

“You can never insult my frying pan again.”

You waited for him to laugh, or even scoff at your ridiculous statement after experiencing a life-threatening situation.

The man did not even smile.

Only dumped the pan upon the ground before he was on you in seconds.

His hand clasped onto your wrist, and pulled you towards him. You stumbled into his chest, and when he wrapped his arms around you, you found yourself being nearly crushed with his hug.

He nestled his head into your neck, his locks falling to your shoulder, free of the ribbon which tied them. “This is why,” he muttered upon your skin, “I did not want you following me.”

You rested your cheek against his chest, returning his embrace. “If you get to save me, I get to save you too.”

There was a heavy pause. “You missed the fireworks because of me,” he whispered, and hearing the guilt in his voice nearly undid you. “I don’t even know how to compensate for something you’ve waited so long to see.”

Although there was that downside, something within you wasn’t as devastated at the thought as you’d expected to be. “There’s always next year, Ponyboy,” you reassured him. You then smiled deviously. “Or should I say thief?”

Hyunjin pulled away slightly, holding you still as he blushed scarlet with embarrassment. “I suppose you know I’m no adventurer.”

You caught the slight fear in his eyes, and your heart broke. He really thought you’d be wary of him now that you knew of his true identity.

Squeezing his shoulders, you offered him mischief through your smile. “Being a witch isn’t so far off from being a thief.”

A little laugh spluttered from him, but he quickly reigned in his amusement, looking at you once again. “You know, I never really wanted to do this,” he confessed. “As a child, I always had to look out for myself, and stealing was the only way to escape poverty.”

His hands tightened on you. “I really want to get out of this mess. In fact, I was going to let Jisung get away with everything, but he took something very precious of mine.”

He turned to his satchel, the one his nemesis was said to have pinched, and went through the inside until he brought out the most stunning necklace, the diamonds glistening as gold swirls curled along its edges, the golden chain studded with more of that jewel all around.

“Hyunjin,” you breathed out, observing the jewellery. “It’s beautiful.”

The man hummed in agreement. “It was my mother’s,” he said, admiring the necklace. “It is the one of the few things which is truly mine.”

His soft voice hardened. “Jisung stealing it was the last straw for me.”

You upheld his gaze. “I would have done the same.”

He did not say anything for a bit, just regarding you under the moonlight. Well, in his eyes, it was more admiration, awe-stricken marvelling.

You, in his eyes, were a little too stunning under this night.

The thief was to say offer something when he heard more voices.

Freezing, he turned around, only to find more men joining Changbin. The men who contributed in saving him.

After staring at you a moment longer, he let go of you. “Let’s join the others.”

You nodded, not missing his hand on the small of your back as he led you to his friends. Chan, Seungmin and Minho were all talking amongst themselves, despite the unconscious bodies around them. They all noticed you both walking towards them, and instantly they all smiled at your arrival.

“____!” Chan exclaimed, raising his wooden fiddle in excitement.

“We missed you so much at the inn!” Seungmin added, holding his silver flute.

“I nearly died ten minutes ago, prick,” Hyunjin guttered, but was only responded with more laughter.

Minho, raking a hand through his fire-kissed hair, clicked his tongue at you, dipping his eyes. “Not even a day and you’ve muddied the shoes,” he drawled, earning a stuck out tongue from you.

“When did you arrive?” you asked him. “I only heard Chan and Seungmin’s singing.”

“I was handling more men further ahead.” he then rolled his eyes. “Felix and Jeongin were supposed to help me but the little one’s stomach started to hurt. Apparently he ate too many doughnuts in the afternoon.”

Hyunjin glanced at you, eyebrows raised, and you scoffed. “Excuse me! You were taking your time! Not my fault Jeongin and I got hungry.”

“You did not get to see the fireworks, then,” Seungmin stated. You shook your head, hugging yourself a little tighter.

“What a shame,” Chan said, sadness in his usual cheerful tone. “I remember you talking about the event so fondly.”

Changbin, who was quiet throughout, then spoke up. “Actually,” he started, looking at you. “I think I can fix that.”

You and all the men turned to him, baffled. He only said, “Minho, bring Felix and Jeongin to the docks in fifteen minutes. Bring some good snacks with you.”

“What have you got in mind, Bin?” Hyunjin asked, furrowing his brows, but Changbin only stepped past the group, whistling.

“Follow me, friends!” he declared, sheathing his dagger. Everyone, still confused, decided to follow, save for Minho, who turned to another avenue to fetch the absent two.

You and Hyunjin walked side by side, hands skimming against each other as the men in front of you led you out of the network of residences, until you were away from the palace walls, and any more danger.

Soon, you found yourself descending the same steps where the thief had left you to face Jisung. The people had dispersed, as the fireworks had ended, yet when Changbin turned the corner, to the far end of the harbour, his little, firework-filled boat still floating upon the sea. Kkami was present too, waiting patiently for his owner to return, and when Hyunjin saw him he sighed in relief, hurrying towards him.

The horse neighed eagerly as the man stroked his mane. Changbin stepped past him, carefully getting on the boat, searching for some flint and steel.

It was then you realised.

“We’re getting our very own fireworks show!”

The sailor grinned at your enthusiasm. “We can’t let a lady be disappointed.”

Chan tapped on his fiddle. “Seungmin and I can play the music!” he declared, wrapping an arm around his friend.

You clasped your hands together. “Oh, I’d love to dance!”

“Let me join in!”

Stunned, you whirled around, and found Jeongin running up to you, beaming from ear to ear as Felix and Minho followed behind, holding food. You returned his smile, calling, “Jeongin! Feeling better now?”

Blushing, he scratched the back of his neck, raven waves curling under his ears. “Ah, I really wished I could have helped at the palace walls, but my stomach chickened out on me.”

Felix tutted as he set the food along the benches. “I told you to stop eating, but you do not listen!”

“He goes after all of us here, then,” Minho commented.

“Can someone help me with the lighting?” Changbin asked, and the men flocked to assist him.

Only Hyunjin stood rooted as he tied his messy locks back, staring at you with an indecipherable emotion.

It did not go unnoticed. “What’s wrong?”

You could tell he was thinking. Pondering hard over what he wanted to do next.

He then brought his hands upon your shoulders, turning your back to him. “Hyunjin?” you got out, surprised, but he said nothing as you heard him fishing something out of his satchel.

You were about to turn around and scold him when you felt cold metal upon your neck.

Looking down, a small gasp escaped you when you found his mother’s necklace settled on your skin, tinkling as the man clipped the lock under your head of hair. When he was done, he spun you around, assessing the added accessory upon you.

He smiled lovingly at the sight.

“Hyunjin, I-” you started, trying to untie the necklace. “I-I can’t take this from you.”

Pausing your efforts, he held onto your hands. “Yes you can. I want you to have this.” you tried to argue some more, but he raised his brows. “No! I don’t want to hear more.”

Your eyes swirled with something akin to affection. “Hyunjin.”

His lips curved upwards. “You know, ____, I always call you a witch but…” he let out a shuddered breath, fingers playing with a stray curl. “But you certainly never looked like one.”

Your heart, damn the thing, fluttered at the statement. You only held onto the lapels of his vest, wishing that all these people would fade away, if only for a moment.

The long-haired thief leaned in a little, tugging you closer, and perhaps he would have closed the distance were it not for Changbin letting out a victorious screech.

“It’s happening, everyone!”

He quickly jumped off the boat, others following as the spark was lightened. Everyone took a few steps back, watching the spark fuse closer to the fireworks, Hyunjin holding onto you still.

Chan bumped his elbow against Seungmin, firing up his instrument. “Let us liven up, everyone!”

Seungmin brought the mouth of the flute to his lips, and instantly, music began to fill the docks.

“When will the fireworks start?” Minho demanded, tapping his foot, but when Felix shushed everyone, they all watched as the fuse hit the heart of the firecrackers.

The first thing that welcomed you all was a very loud BANG!

Everyone jumped at the sheer light which flashed before your eyes, shooting for the stars as it burst into the sky, scattering bright brilliance upon the sea. More and more fireworks joined in on this fire-like race, exploding everywhere in the air, igniting gasps of wonder from the crowd.

You were the most awed in the entire group. Ever since you were young, you had admired this show from miles away, but now, when it was a few metres from you, it filled with you with the same light that it spluttered down on you. Although it was not the official fireworks which you wished to see originally, this alternative was just as extraordinary - more so, as it was done just for you.

The fireworks were then accompanied with music, being fired up once more by the innkeepers, and instantly everyone began to dance along the merry beat, singing along to Seungmin’s and Jeongin’s honey voice.

You joined in on this fun, making sure to swing along to the music with everyone, joining arms with Jeongin and then moving to Minho, changing to Changbin and then frolicking with Felix, you even sang with Seungmin, chuckling with Chan as you try to steal his fiddle, and you twirled and twirled in the middle, dress and plait trailing after you.

Hyunjin, sat upon the benches, clapped to the merriment, his smile lingering whenever a breathless laugh escaped you as you danced with all his friends. When you caught sight of him settled alone, you ran to him, ushering him to join in. he refused at first, hurryingly saying he hated to dance, but you grabbed onto his hands and wrenched him off the bench, a yelp fleeing his lips as he was dragged into the center.

Hands still clasped, you led them about your waist, not missing the blush staining his cheeks as you planted your hands on his shoulders, moving him along to the music.

“Oh, my, Ponyboy,” you drawled as you felt yourself being led by hands. “You are a good dancer.”

“I never said I was bad at it,” he mused, twirling you around. You tried to fight your smirk, both pairs of eyes joining in their twinkling.

Yours began to glisten even more when you dared to say, “You know, Ponyboy,” you started, voice dripped with mischief.

He watched you, lips twitching. “Yes?”

“When the fireworks occur…” you lock your hands behind his neck. “You’re supposed to kiss the person you’re dancing with.”

The way Hyunjin's eyes widened at the implication had your stomach in disarray. The surprise quickly darkened when he leaned in, cocking his head. “Oh, really?” his little chuckle was felt on your lips. “It is too bad you’re a witch, then.”

Returning his laughter, you dared raise your fingers to his ribbon, untying the strip and letting his luscious curls fall at his shoulders. “What a blessing for you,” you said, “That this witch does not follow the rules.”

The man’s smile was unforgettable. “Neither does this thief.”

That was all he said, before closing the distance between you two.

The moment his lips touched yours, it was like another round of fireworks had erupted. This time, these fireworks were within you and the man before you, moving plush lips against you and bringing you the finest form of sweetness you had ever tasted. You melted under him, he pulling you right against his chest, unable to accept any distance between the both of you.

A soft noise left you as he pulled away from you, mouth parted, glistening like the diamonds adorning you. Around you, cheers broke out from the boys, whooping at the kiss you and Hyunjin shared. Although your cheeks burned, you giggled at their reaction, staying close with the thief.

The dancing only continued, as the fireworks still illuminated the docks. You turned to Hyunjin once again, whose hands encircled your waist still.

As you moved slowly along to the music, the man dipped his face, settling his forehead against yours. His erratic breathing mixed with yours. “I am...so happy to have met you, witch,” he whispered to you.

Your heart, if it was not already in the clouds, now elevated to seventh heaven. “You’re not so terrible yourself, thief.”

It was his answering smile which had him pulling you closer again, finding paradise in your arms as you and your friends danced the night away under the fireworks.

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