#i like to live dangerously and do not edit so please forgive any mistakes

[lilyoffandoms]

Blades Drabble - Aerin x MC

A hasty post-lunch warm up drabble gift for the only two diehard Aerin-mancers I know in fandom @baldwinboy5ive and @oh-so-youre-a-nerd. Thanks for being amazing humans and keeping our dashes filled with the best art!

Warnings & A/N: Nothing that’s not canon compliant. Saw this post by @thedezzler and it got me thinking.

‘Once something’s corrupted it’s impossible to bring it back to the Light.’

He had said the words so casually. It was a simple statement of fact at the time.

At the time.

Did he feel the same now?

Visiting him in the cell at Whitetower, seeing him without corruption, had given Raine so much hope for them all. Maybe it was possible to heal the world, heal Nia, heal so many others that had fallen to the Shadow.

But there was something in the way he phrased it that had Raine wondering if they had anything right when it came to how the Light and the Shadows worked.

Corruption wasn’t something you could erase.

Corruptionem.

He remembered Tyril using that word to describe it. Raine had asked about it.

It was used to describe the spoiling or seduction of something or someone. To corrupt something wasn’t to destroy it entirely, it was to taint it. Mold taints bread. Unchecked power taints people. Darkness taints light. But none destroy, they simply change the thing they touch.

So it was a strange choice of word for Aerin to use. And if Raine had learned anything in all their time together, it was that Aerin did and said almost everything with careful and calculated purpose.

He would not have used corruption if he didn’t mean corruption. It was a more hopeful use of words than he had expected from the prince. Aerin himself probably didn’t even realize how much hope remained in Raine’s heart at the thought of that.

Let unchecked, unbalanced, corruption can destroy. But mold on bread can be used to preserve milk by creating cheese. Power in the hands of the right people can be used to defend and help others that are unable to do so themselves. Darkness…

Darkness doesn’t taint light though, does it?

Darkness exists, light is created, so wouldn’t it stand to reason that light taints the darkness? Light can spoil darkness but darkness cannot spoil light, for it cannot survive where there is only light.

But light goes a step beyond corruption. It destroys.

Light destroys, darkness only corrupts.

The thought brought Raine to a stop. The rest of the party pausing around him. Aerin’s slender hand reaching for his. His voice cutting through those thoughts.

“Raine?”

He looked down at a concerned Aerin beside him. Really looked at him. He was free of corruption, that much was clear, but he had changed, that he could see plainly, but he hadn’t allowed it to destroy him.

The realization hit him like a punch in the gut, stealing his breath away.

Aerin was right - even if he didn’t know it - and the Watcher was wrong, so horribly wrong. There is no coming back from utter destruction but there is coming back from corruption. It seemed to Raine that what was needed was not the separation of the two but the blending and balance of them.

Light is the destroyer.

——————————

All Choices Tag: @storyofmychoices @aallotarenunelma @inlocusmads

[stardustprompts]

the city of brass  (  the daevabad trilogy book 1  )  -   s. a. chakraborty change tenses/pronouns as needed !!  some lines have been edited for clarity / length / ease of roleplaying     tw ;  death ,  violence ,  religion mention 

‘you do realize you just committed a crime, yes?’

‘you get more like the devil each day.’

‘you can’t please everyone.’

‘i’m trying to warn you.’

‘you have no experience with what happens to people like us during a war. people who are different. you should keep your head down.’

‘you sound eager to be rid of me.’

‘you’re playing with things you don���t understand.’

‘that’s very arrogant. blasphemous, even. only a fool would speak in such a way.’

‘there is power in names. it’s not something my people give out so freely.’

‘I am going to ask you some questions first. you will answer them. and honestly. you strike me as a liar.’

‘you strike me as a liar.’

‘I prefer to think of myself as a merchant of delicate tasks.’

‘that doesn’t make you any less a criminal.’

‘I do what I need to survive.’

‘earn this. save yourself. live to fight again.’

‘forget it. I don’t know why I bothered to ask.’

‘do you have any idea how dangerous that was?’

‘your company is not … entirely displeasing.’

‘i’ll cut your throat in your sleep if you’re lying.’

‘it’s not haunted.’

‘do you have to creep up on me like some sort of assassin?’

‘you betrayed us, the very people your family was meant to protect.’

‘you think it matters how you kill me? a hundred more will rise in my place.’

‘you will suffer … in this world and the next.’

‘i’m simply capable of seeing both sides of an issue. It’s a skill you should try to develop.’

‘there is something very wrong with you.’

‘you’re just going to abandon me?’

‘is that what this is all about then? you’re ashamed of me?’

‘you didn’t grow up in my world. you can’t understand.’

‘you’re so arrogant you can’t even apologize properly.’

‘I could not bear it if something happened to you. I would never forgive myself.’

‘finally. I was starting to fear you drowned.’

‘are you afraid? are you trembling?’

‘you can’t trust anything they say. all they do is deceive and manipulate. they will say anything to trick you. to break you.’

‘I take it then that the rumors do not have you worried?’

‘you’re not even a good liar, do you know that?’

‘I suspect there are some good ideas hiding behind your propensity for rash, terrible decisions.’

‘what you’re suggesting … no man could survive it.’

‘nothing interesting ever happens around here.’

‘have i actually silenced you for once?’

‘knowing how your type feel about martyrdom, let me make this clear. it will not be you alone who suffers.’

‘I shouldn’t have said that. It was rude… and it’s hardly the first time I’ve been rude to you.’

‘are you afraid of me?’

‘it is said that when a man and woman are alone in a closed room, their third companion is the devil.’

‘I can teach you … I mean, if you want me to.’

‘I am not your enemy.’

‘I suppose I’m full of surprises.’

‘I am nothing like you. I would never do the things you did.’

‘I like to keep my options open.’

‘I look forward to being outmatched.’

‘I have a surprise for you.’

‘you’ve taken very quickly to ordering people around.’

‘have you completely lost your mind?’

‘you can’t trust him. I bet every other word out of his mouth is a lie meant to turn you towards their side.’

‘whatever happened in the past is just that: past.’

‘I feel as though it’s an illusion, like I’m one mistake from having it all stripped away.’

‘sometimes magic works best when there’s a little … emotion behind it.’

‘my curiosity is winning over my common sense.’

‘you won’t be able to continue like this. one of these days, you’re going to have to make a choice.’

‘you were my idea, you know. my hope.’

‘just because I shouldn’t have done it does mean … it doesn’t mean I didn’t want to.’

‘I never had anything like this … anything like you.’

‘do you think this is easy for me? do you think I enjoy imagining your life with another?’

‘it must be nice to have a family.’

‘you could, you know? have a family, I mean. here. with us.’

‘you trust too easily. you always have.’

‘you’re not supposed to be friends. you’re supposed to lead.’

‘I’ll have to invent some salacious story to amuse myself.’

‘you’re not terrible. you’re my friend.’

‘that’s cold. that’s a coldness I didn’t know you had in you.’

‘I try to dismiss them, you know, the things people say. I always have.’

‘I would stick a blade in my heart before I raised it to you—- I swear to god.’

‘please just tell me how to fix this. I’ll do anything.’

‘do you think I want your death on my conscience?’

‘I don’t need you to save me!’

‘I’m telling you: I’ll never forgive you if something happens to him—- and I’ll never forget what you did here tonight.’

‘it’s been a dark few months. my time with you… it was a light.’

‘I didn’t mean to do that, to hurt you, I swear!’

‘tell whatever truth you want. make it good. I’m done protecting you.’

‘I believe you. I mean, I don’t particularly care, but for what it’s worth, I do believe you.’

[raineeskiesabove]

His Truth | Albedo x Sucrose HC & Oneshot (ish)

Using the hc that Albedo is a homunculus, but the nature of this creature ranges across works of fiction I’ve seen, so the rest is based on my own interpretations;;

These two may be brainy in their respective fields of study, but romance is an entirely new ballpark for both of them

They’re both complete dorks when it comes to “wooing” a special someone, and are too shy to admit their feelings. At least for Sucrose, anyway. Albedo’s feelings are a bit more complicated, as he questions whether or not his feelings are even real.

Albedo isn’t human. His feelings aren’t human. It wouldn’t be fair to let Sucrose grow so close to him. It would only be a matter of time before he would lose control, losing whatever “self” he had managed to develop over the years.

At first, Albedo treated Sucrose like everyone else- slightly distant, but with respect. However, over time, he grew fonder of the other alchemist, of her devotion to alchemy and her sweet personality. Over and over, he’d insist that she could drop the “Mister”, but she never seemed to listen. It was this pressure, of Sucrose respecting him so much, that made him all the more convinced that she shouldn’t grow close to him. The real him wasn’t who she thought he was.

“Sucrose, this is a busy time of research for the both of us. Please keep all conversations short and to the point,” he would begin to say, using a purposefully cold and icy tone.

“Y-yes of course, Mister Albedo!” Sucrose would always comply with his wishes, even if his words stung a little. But she had the tendency to ramble, and simply figured that perhaps he had grown tired of her constant questions, observations, and other such things.

For a while, Sucrose accepted Albedo’s new terms, only asking for his attention when she knew he had a job for her. No more questions about his work. No more asking for guidance. Perhaps, she thought, he was testing how well she could research on her own! She knew she was lying to herself, but Sucrose would do anything to reassure herself that Albedo didn’t truly dislike her.

One day, Sucrose left town alone to collect some samples out in the fields of Monstadt. She hadn’t told anyone where she had gone.

By this point, Albedo was mentally tearing himself apart from the inside out, realizing that he could not bear the burden to live like this. He knew that this hurt her. He could see it every time they passed in the hallway- instead of offering a shy wave, she simply looked away and continued walking. She never visited him in his lab anymore. She never asked questions, told him about the subjects she was most fond of.

But what was more concerning were the changes his body undergone since he had shut Sucrose out. At first it was barely noticeable: a hairline fracture, what seemingly appeared to be a crack, running down from the bottom point of the star on his neck. The crack led to nowhere, and didn’t chip upon his inspection, so he was forced to leave it be. As the days passed, more and more cracks began to appear, now stemming from all sides of the star marking. Soon, the cracks caused the outer layer of his skin to chip off, revealing an unnatural, gold interior beneath. These areas were extremely sensitive, like the star on his neck, making work very difficult to accomplish.

Albedo fell into a state of depression, now without care for whatever happened around him. He could barely sleep at night from how intense the markings felt, but resisted the urge to show anyone. Unlike himself, who eagerly devoured stories of the unknown, the other seeing him would frighten them.

He spent the following days mindlessly doodling Sucrose over and over again. He’d drawn her before, already memorizing each detail down to the strands of hair on her head. Thoughts of her ran through his mind almost obsessively, and he simply couldn’t understand why. He cannot love. It isn’t real. He is hardly real. He needed to let go of her, but any attempt to detach himself proved fruitless.

Only one event, after almost half of his skin had decayed, roused him from bed. A knock at his door.

“Albedo?” It was Jean. “Have you seen Sucrose? No one has seen her since yesterday, and we checked her lab. She isn’t anywhere in town, and I’m getting worried...”

Sucrose? But she never left the city unless it was to accompany him- oh.

He was such a fool.

Pulling up his hood, leaving his hair down, Albedo opened the door swiftly, saying nothing as he passed Jean in a hurry.

The only lead he had to go off of was her elemental traces, which were already fading due to it being a day since her disappearance. Not to mention that he had to move slowly, due to how sensitive every movement felt.

Half a day passed, and Albedo began to fear the worst when the trail led to the Thousand Winds Temple. So many, too many monsters dwelled within this area. It was much too dangerous for one to go alone, especially for Sucrose, who lacked a particularly reactionary element. And by now, a steady stream of rain had begun to fall around him.

Finally, he found her laying lifeless against the cold concrete, surrounded by a Ruin Guard that had seemingly lost interest in her.

If one emotion he never felt was love, the other was anger. Pure, white rage that blinded every other thought telling him to be rational. These feelings were simply overwhelming, his heart feeling like it would burst at any moment.

Defeating the Ruin Guard in a monstrous explosion of geo energy, he rushed to Sucrose’s side quickly, checking for a pulse.

Weak, but alive. Severely injured, but still breathing.

“Sucrose... Sucrose, can you hear me?” Even in a situation as dire as this, Albedo felt his voice come out calmly and even.

At first she thought that she was dreaming. She had convinced herself that she would die out here, that no one would come looking for her. Especially not the one sitting above her now. Her glasses had long been lost, but instantly she knew who it was. Even the act of breathing hurt, but the relief of seeing his face caused a smile to bloom on her lips, a laugh to escape her throat.

“Y-you came,” she whispered.

“Yes,” was all he could say before the tears escaped him, running down his face relentlessly, falling onto the girl below. His sobs were strangled and raw, echoing throughout the plaza they were in. A stream of “sorries” and “forgive mes” were mixed throughout his cries, Albedo’s chest heaving from the sudden burst of emotion. Never in his life had he cried. Never had he experienced the true feelings of sorrow and regret.

She lifted a hand to cup his cheek, perplexed by the gold plating of it, but more concerned with the distress he was in. Never had she seen her cool and collected teacher so vulnerable.

To both of their surprises, her touch did not cause him to recoil, nor did it sting him. But rather, as she held her hand in place, the gold began to fade, again growing encased within his usual skin color.

He held her hand against his cheek tightly, now desperately holding onto it. He had almost lost her, but he wasn’t going to make the same mistake a second time. In terms of his condition, he didn’t understand why he had begun to decay, nor did he understand why she could repair it. But she simply could, and that was enough for him to accept that he needed her.

She insisted to now sit up, which he initially declined to endorse, but her insistence was enough to make him back down in his vulnerable state. Sitting in silence, she broke it with a nervous giggle, noting how both of them weren’t having a very good day.

Through his tears, Albedo couldn’t help but let a chuckle escape him, his forehead falling against hers. The movement caused Sucrose to freeze, shocked by his sudden and uncharacteristically bold move. In her trance, she barely noticed that he had guided her hand to the star on his neck, her touch causing a faint glow to emanate from the marking. Through his clothes, the two could see the rest of his gold spots lit up, the glow fading as her touch closed the openings.

“Mi- ah... A-Albedo, I don’t understand. Are you alright? The unusual markings on the surface of your body looked uncomfortable. Why... why was my touch so effective in counteracting them?”

“That is... beyond the realm of my understanding, Sucrose. But, I seek the truth of this world, do I not?”

She nodded, but secretly wondered what that had to do with her question.

“A long time ago, my master gave me one final task: discover the truth of this world. Days grew into months, months into years, and I never found an answer that I could accept. I grew worried that I would never be able to unravel the mystery presented by my master. Logically, this is likely an incorrect answer, but the truth of this world, my truth of this world... For now, I would like to define it as the love that I hold for you. It is... a bit of a foolish answer, isn’t it?”

“...no. No, not at all,” she whispered, closing her golden eyes. A small smile graced her lips, a gentle breath escaping her nose as her shoulders relaxed.

Perhaps it was only seconds, maybe hours, that they stayed rooted in this spot. But there was still one thing they both knew for certain, regardless of the passage of time around them. In the middle of this damp, abandoned site lost to time, Albedo and Sucrose shared their first kiss.

Eww the formatting HAHA;; Ma’am it is 130am wtf am I doing. I am so sorry if the writing and concepts make no sense lmao I fell down this rabbit hole and it became a pseudo oneshot that probably needs a lot of editing I’m too lazy to do rn. Til next time homies <3

[pencilguin]

Under the Stars - Oneshot

Hello hello :D I'm Pencilguin and I'm new to Tumblr! I don't really know how to use this currently but I'm hoping to write some fanfics to stress-relieve from my other projects ;v;

I'm just not even gonna bother writing this onto word first and edit it since I'm super impatient so here's my attempt to writing a Xiao x Aether fanfic-

(Also like I've seen people posting warnings before everything but like,,, Is it necessary? Cuz like I'm kinda scared if I did something wrong but please correct me if I do make a mistake >< thanks)

Genshin Impact ship content, Xiao x Aether, Fanfic, NOT NSFW

The summer crickets could be heard singing the nighttime lullabies as the sound of rustling tree leaves accompanied the blows of the wind. In the distance, the lights of the bustling city started to dim down one by one as the people of Liyue started to pack up their stalls and return to their homes to get a good night's sleep.

From above, in the perspective of the stars, two figures were laid down onto the lightly yellow grass beside a crackling campfire.

It's rare to see Xiao sleeping so soundly.

Aether looked at Xiao's peaceful sleeping face before tucking himself beside him.

It's been a while since they last camped outside after receiving the Serenitea Pot from Madam Ping. For a week now, Aether had to camp outside in the wild like he used to (now that the interior of the Serenitea Pot is under construction) - but the good thing is, he was now able to "live" together with Xiao.

With multiple attempts of trying to convince Xiao to move in the teapot together, each time Aether fails miserably with the answer "no". Carrying the role of a Yaksha, he has promised to watch over the land of Liyue to ensure the safety of the people.

Perhaps it was Xiao's avoiding gaze, but it seems to Aether that he partly wished him to insist further.

Face to face, looking at Xiao's sleeping profile made Aether realize that even with such young features, Xiao might have never experienced anything that he should've when he was a child. After traveling for so long, Aether managed to store many stories of Teyvat, Xiao's history were also included. Many people who knew him suggested words of advice that he has done enough for the people of Liyue and that he should have a proper rest continued on and on...but it just seems like Xiao will never forgive himself if ever doing so. As of now, at this very moment, Aether was very glad that he managed to get Xiao asleep when he clearly stated that he will be on the lookout in case for any dangers and to let Aether rest by himself.

For a brief second, a fairly indecent thought went past Aether's mind.

Xiao looks...so vulnerable as of this very moment...

Aether slowly moved his hand and carefully cupped Xiao's cheeks between them, and inch by inch, the distance between the two slowly decreased until Aether could feel Xiao's quiet breaths were blowing across his cheeks.

Aether chuckled lightly at the sight and placed a peck on Xiao's nose tip, and Aether was silently surprised when Xiao started shuffling around in his sleep and somehow ended up back facing Aether, as if trying to avoid further kisses.

Looking at Xiao's sleeping response, Aether was so close to making a noise when laughing at the thought that Xiao looked like a kitten covering his head in his paws. With the sense of safety with Xiao by his side, Aether slowly started to dose off into the dream world with a hand being placed on Xiao's back.

On the other side, the face of the adeptus was so red that it seemed like it could explode any second.

This time, the reason why Xiao couldn't sleep can be blamed on Aether the next day.

[slyther-bi]

This took longer to write then expected. When it comes to writing I need to listen to music in order to write. It helps me invision what I plan to write. Sadly none of the songs I listened to helped me but eventually I came across a song I used to listen to and it helped me invision the prompt that @sevy-stuff-blog gave me. This one shot is on my Wattpad story "Harry Potter one shots" but I'm posting it on here so that @biggestsleepymoth can view as well as anyone else who doesn't follow me on Wattpad. The prompt was confusing but I hope this turned out okay and that you all enjoy it. (Edit: I fixed my spelling errors and added any forgotten words)

Guilt

Requested by @sevy-stuff-blog

Big thanks to @biggestsleepymoth for helping me out.

Some info: Luna helps comfort Snape who is feeling guilty about Dumbledore's plan

Severus Snape walked down the halls battered and bruised. He had just come back from a Death Eaters meeting and the Dark Lord was not pleased. He was furious and he always punished his followers when he was furious no matter who they were. Sad to say Severus was one of the unlucky ones tonight.

Severus hated this, he hated everything about it and wished he could get out of it. Sadly that wasn't an option, he promised to be a spy for the light side. Being a spy would help them win the war, atleast that's what Dumbledore told him.

Plus doing this helped ease his guilt about everything he's done, doing this may not excuse his actions but atleast it's a start. He let out a groan and dropped to his knees in pain. He was hit with the crucio curse more then he can count. The fact that he was still able to walk was a shock to both him and Dumbledore.

Dumbledore had given him a potion to help with the pain and suggested that he go straight to his quarters instead of going to see Madam Pomfrey. He had also been given two weeks off teaching in order to heal. Severus let out a few pained coughs and fell completely to the cold stone floor.

He wished he hadn't listen to Dumbledore and gone straight to the hospital wing but he was an idiot. 'Great now I'm gonna die here' he thought and began to cough again. A bit of blood came out as he coughed and his vision began to blur with tears. He didn't have to energy to keep himself from crying and allowed the tears to fall.

He deserved this, he did. He put the only person he ever cared about, along with her family, in danger for what? He did not know but he wished he could go back and change the past. Go back and keep himself from telling Voldemort about the prophecy or maybe go back and keep himself from joining.

Maybe then he wouldn't be in this mess. Laying here on the cold hard ground battered and bruised, coughing up blood, and in tears. 'My god I'm pathetic' he thought and made an attempt to get up. His body let out a jolt of pain not liking the idea of moving, Severus bit his tongue in order to keep himself from screaming. "If this is how I die so be it" he whispered to himself as his vision began to blur, the attempt made him grow light headed and he knew he was about to fall unconscious.

Before he lost consciousness he heard the faint noise of footsteps. He tried to move his head to see who was there but each movement caused him a great deal of pain. The footsteps came closer and stopped right besides him. Severus's vision was so blurred that all he could make out was that this person had blonde hair. Before he could make out any other detail about the person he passed out due to pain and exhaustion.

A small groan escaped past Severus's lips, he slowly opened his eyes and saw that he was in an unknown room, well not so much unknown he had been in here before but he never knew who brought him here. He attempted to sit up but he felt a pair of hands push him down "Don't attempt to sit up, you'll only hurt yourself more" he looked at the person who spoke and his eyes grew wide. "Lovegood?" He asked in confusion, Luna gave him a soft smile and held out a potion that would help ease the pain.

"Here sir, drink this it will help with the pain" She spoke softly and held the potion up to his lips. Severus allowed her to tip the potion into his mouth. He drank the potion in one go and made a face of disgust "I'm sorry, I know it taste awful" Luna stated and set the vial aside. Severus shook his head and sighed "It's fine" he muttered, Luna smiled and tucked a piece of her hair behind her ear.

"Professor?"

"Yes?"

"Why did you join?"

Severus stared at Luna in confusion but that confusion faded when she pointed at his left arm. It was only then that Severus realised that his shirt had been removed and the dark mark on his arm was visible. He closed his eyes and tried to avoid answering the question but it seemed Luna wouldn't let him.

"Professor, please" She spoke softly and stared at him with pleading eyes. Severus opened his eyes and looked at her, after a minute he let out a deep sigh. "Because I was young and naive" He whispered as he closed his eyes again. He couldn't bear to look into Luna's eyes, he couldn't bear seeing the sadness in them. "Because I was blinded by the promise of power, the promise to be freed from a life of abuse, the promise to be the one on top, to no longer be looked down on." Severus spoke and finally opened his eyes to face her, he let out a sigh and sat up.

His body let out a jolt of pain in protest but due to the potion Luna had given him he was able to ignored it. "Because I finally gave in to everyones lies about me" He added as tears began to form. Severus attempted to wipe them away but Luna grabbed hold of his hand. Severus looked down inorder to avoid the look in her eyes. He knew she was looking at him with pity and that was the last thing he needed.

"But you're on our side now, I know you are." Luna spoke, Severus turned to face her and raised an eyebrow "And what makes you say that, Miss Lovegood?" He questioned. Luna gave him a smile "Forgive me Professor but I overheard a conversation between you and the Headmaster. I know about you being a spy for the Order" She explained "I've known for awhile, who do you think has been healing you all this time when you come back completely hurt" She added softly.

Severus stared at her in shocked, all this time it was Luna who was patching him up after a rough meeting with the Dark Lord. "You've known?" He said in almost a whisper, Luna nodded "Yes, the only thing I didn't know was why you had joined in the first place. Nor do I know what made you change sides"

He looked away and laid back down "I made a mistake, a very big mistake that helped set this war into motion. A mistake that endangered many innocent lives" He spoke out with guilt in his voice. Luna couldn't help but stare at him in confusion "Professor, what mistake did you make?" She asked.

Severus looked up at her with guilty eyes "I told the dark lord of the prophecy, I told him that the one destined to kill him would by born as the seventh month dies...." He breathed out as tears began to fall. It took awhile for Luna to understand what Severus was talking about but eventually it all clicked.

She faintly remembered Harry stating that Severus knew his mother back when they were younger. That both Harry and Neville were born at the end of July. That prophecy lead to the death of Harry's parents and to the destruction of Neville's parents. Luna couldn't help but stare at him in shock, nor could she have stopped the gasp that came from her.

Severus had looked away from her and made a move to stand up. Before he could move he felt a pair of arms wrap around him. He opened his mouth to say something but was beaten to it "It wasn't you're fault Professor" Luna spoke and Severus felt his heart ache at those words. "It was, it was all my fault, if I had kept quiet, if I hadn't told him then-" He was quickly cut off by Luna tightening her hold on him.

"Stop, you aren't to blame" She stated "I costed people their lives, I endangered the life of the only person who was willing to help me" He muttered, his body began to shake as more tears began to fall. "I ended the life of my only friend!" He shouted out and clutched at the sheets below him.

Luna's heart began to ache and tears formed in her eyes, seeing her Professor fall apart caused her heart to ache badly. Luna let go of him and turned him around so that he could face her "Professor, you didn't know, if you hadn't had told him then someone else would have. And that person would have no regrets, that person wouldn't agreed to become a spy for the Order, that person wouldn't risk their life to help us win this war." She explained

"Nothing could have prevented this war, I can see the guilt in your eyes and I can hear the pain in your voice. You are risking your very life to make things right, without you we all would be dead. Harry would most likely be dead if it weren't for you" She added "We wouldn't have come this far without your help, I know you've done bad things, you've had to inorder to insure that the Dark Lord never questioned you're loyalty but I know truly were your loyalty lies and it lies with us here in the light" Severus couldn't help but simply stare at her, he opened his mouth to say something but Luna held up a hand and continued.

"Whatever you plan to say you can keep it to yourself Professor, You have so much bravery that it puts Godric Gryffindor and the entire Gryffindor house hold to shame. You made mistakes everyone does but it's take someone with a heart of gold to own up to them and attempt to right the wrong. I can see that you're broken but you show such incredible strength because I don't think anyone could do what you do. I don't think anyone could do what you do and stay alive." Luna said with admiration, she pulled Severus into a hug and smiled when she felt him wrap his arms around her.

"Whatever happens Professor, known that I am by your side. I promise I won't tell anyone about this, your secret should die with me. You aren't alone, not anymore" Severus pulled back and managed to give her a small smile "Thank you" he said softly. Luna nodded and stood up "I'll let you rest now, I should be heading back to my dorm" She said.

Severus simply nodded, before Luna left she hugged him one last time and left the room. Severus laid back down on the bed and wiped away the dry tears from his face. The guilt was still eating at him and he still blamed himself but after hearing what Luna said he felt that maybe she was right. He closed his eyes and let out a soft yawn, he succumb to sleep with one last thought in his head.

'I'll keep fighting, I won't give in. For her sake'

'For Luna Lovegood'

[zestyq]

The Flavours Of Life - A Sims 4 Legacy Challenge

Sims tend to have a lack of personality. A lack of flavour. But I'm here to fix it. Are you tired of sims challenges either being too short or having wayyy too many goals to incorporate your own creative freedom? Then read ahead!

General rules;

1 - No cheats and cheaty mods. Sims tends to get boring if you cheat money, careers and skills. 2 - This challenge is about having freedom and being flexible. So feel free to edit some of the generation rules for your liking in your playthrough. 3 - Stick to a normal or long lifespan. 4 - Design your sims with the general colours/styles of the generations. 5 - The whole point of this challenge is to have fun so if you don't think you're going to enjoy a gen, skip it!

Generation One, Vanilla;

New town, new life and new opportunities. You grew up with privilege and have never had to work for yourself. Until one day, your parents pass away suddenly and you find they left nothing to you in your will. In a rags to riches style, you have to build yourself up from nothing. Eventually, you gain back your white picket fence lifestyle and marry, then have kids. You care for and love your kids - you want the best for them. But one day you make a grave mistake...

Traits: Materialistic, Snob and Perfectionist.

Aspiration: Succesful Lineage.

Career: Your choice, excluding high intensity jobs.

-Max out a career of your choice.

-Have at least two kids.

-Master parenting and whatever skill(s) correspond with your job.

- Complete at least half of your aspiration

- Have a one night stand with an evil sim, get pregnant and lie to your partner that it's their child.

Generation two, Strawberry;

You've always seemed so sweet and... charming. So charming you can practically manipulate anyone into liking and trusting you. Okay let's face it - you're evil. (I wonder who you got that from). You've been married so many times it's hard to count. It's a shame your relationships never work out. Although you'd prefer to commit crimes all day, you have a reputation to uphold. So you buy a bakery! Some say the special ingredient is love. You know it's much more sinister.

Traits: Evil, Romantic and Foodie.

Aspiration: Serial Romantic.

Career: Baking Business.

-Have a pristine reputation.

-Have multiple of your wives/husbands die under "suspicious circumstances" and take their money

-Have at least a three star business.

-Master the Baking, Charisma and Mischief skills.

Generation three, Bitter;

Growing up your parental figures came and went. Nothing was permanent. Which is why you guess stability never come easy to you. The only thing that remained consistent throughout your life was your hatred of your parents. As a teen or young adult you run away from home at the dead of night and start a new life. With no set goals or plans in your life you jump quickly from one thing from another. You live all over the globe during your life but you finally settle down in the tropical Sulani. Oh, did I forgot to mention you hate children?

Traits; Non-Committal, Hates children and Self-Absorbed.

Aspiration: Beach Life

Career: Any four careers + a term or so of uni.

-Reach level 2 of four careers.

-Go to uni for a degree but drop out sometime during the first term.

- Max two skills and reach level five in another.

-Get pregnant by accident and have twins. (You may cheat)

-Have maxed out hate for at least one parent.

-Get a Nanny for your children.

Generation 4, Salt OR Pepper;

(During this generation you get a choice as who you will play as)

Option 1 - Pepper,

You and your twin sibling have always been polar opposites but that doesn't mean you can't be close! You were always the rebellious one. Sneaking out to parties, underage drinking and hiding your soulmate in your room. Whatever you were doing it certainly wasn't something good. At school you never tried and got an F Grade at high school. But when P.E came around... you were the star of the show. Sports was your natural calling. And after a long day of exercising, you liked to help yourself to a drink.

Traits: Loves Outdoors, Active, Hot-Headed.

Aspiration: Soulmate.

Career: Bodybuilder Branch of the Athlete Career

-Max the fitness and mixology skill

-Complete the Soulmate aspiration.

-Reach level ten of the athlete Bodybuilder Branch

-Have an alternative style for the majority of your life.

-Have max friendship with your twin.

-Meet your soulmate as a child and stay together forever.

Option 2- Salt,

You and your twin have always been close friends but that didn't stop you from feeling jealous of their perfect relationship. During school you always had your head in a book and at the library one day you meet someone to love. But it didn't work out. For a lot of your life you were stuck in a loveless relationship that ended in divorce and kids to look after. You wrote romance novels in hopes that one day the stories would come true and you'd find that special someone to call your "soulmate". And eventually, you do! In the last years of your life you meet your special someone...

Traits: Romantic, Gloomy and Bookworm.

Aspiration: Bestselling Author.

Career: None. You can only get money by self-publishing books.

-Max out the writing skill and logic skill

-Complete the Bestselling Author aspiration

-Meet your first love at the library during "Book Club"

-Have a divorce as an adult.

-Have max friendship with your twin

-Marry "the one" as an elder

Generation 5, Spicy:

Growing up you always wanted to be the centre of attention. You always had a fiery and unpredictable personality. Sometimes you'd fabricate stories just so your parents would feel bad for you. As you got older, nothing changed. You became a famous actor. People around the globe loved you and the roles you'd play. One night you spot a paparazzi and the flirtations began. At first you thought it'd be nothing; you were used to pretending to like someone. As the night progressed, you and the paparazzi hooked up and a child was conceived. Terrified of what the public would say you quit acting, become a stay at home parent and marry the paparazzi.

Traits: Self-Assured, Ambitious and Erratic.

Aspiration: Master Actor.

Career: Actor, Stay at Home Parent.

-Master the acting and cooking skill.

-Reach at least level 5 in the acting career.

-Complete at least half of the acting aspiration.

-Marry a paparazzo.

-Become a three star celebrity.

Generation 6, Orange:

You always knew your parent loved you but you could tell they'd rather be famous and living a life of luxury. They signed you up for drama club in the hopes you'd fulfil their dreams but you'd rather be playing with your doll family at home. Babies. Something about them was so cute to you. You grew up and had a large family. You managed to balance work and family perfectly. You gave your children full unconditional love and they returned it. Despite being unwanted as a child, you made sure your children felt belonging. One day it all changed. One of your children passed away in a fire and you were distraught. But you wouldn't let them be forgotten; every week you made at least one painting dedicated to them.

Traits; Creative, Family Oriented and Paranoid.

Aspiration; Big Happy Family.

Career; Painter.

-Master the painting skill.

-Complete the Big Happy Family aspiration.

-Make at least one painting a week after your child passes.

-Have 5 or more children.

-Attend drama club as a child.

Generation 7, Sour:

Your childhood was fairly uneventful. Except from the fire incident... But you don't talk about it. You prefer life to have a kick to it. You spend your life seeking danger. Some days you'll be climbing the treacherous Mt.Komorebi, others you'll be exploring the ancient tombs of Selvadorada. Whatever you're doing it's sure to be fun. For a while you settle down and have a child but as soon as the child is old enough to journey with you - it's back to the thrill. Life doesn't wait. Neither do you.

Traits; Adventurous, Loves Outdoors and Slob.

Aspiration; Jungle Explorer

Career; None. You sell fossils and artifacts.

-Max the Seladoradian culture and archaeology skill.

-Complete the Jungle Explorer aspiration.

-Reach the top of Mt.Komorebi.

-Have a child with a Seladoradian Native.

Generation 8, Sweet:

You grew up in a wild family. You often went on wild journeys with your parent but you didn't really want to live that life. Music was your passion. Anything musical was perfect to you. Through joy, sorrow and hope you played music. You became an entertainer and married your co-worker. You sang soft lullabies to your children when they cried and serenaded your partner when things were getting romantic. After a long days work, you come home and see your partner in bed... with the maid! Do you forgive and forget? Or do you divorce?

Traits; Music-Lover, Good and Jealous

Aspiration; Musical Genius

Career; Entertainer

-Max out two instrument skills and singing.

-Max out the entertainer career

-Donate to charity once a week.

-Adopt two children from less fortunate homes.

-Catch your partner cheating on you

FYI;

This challenge is my first one so please don't hate. Constructive criticism is appreciated. Also this challenge is loosely based off of the not so berry challenge by lilsimsie. Go subscribe to her :)

[secretlysheikah]

Tower troubles: Haze

Well after Tumblr decided to force close on me I finally got this chapter edited! I hope you all enjoy it.

As always, I do not claim ownership of the Linked Universe. That joy belongs to @jojo56830 Check them out! I’m just a dope who keeps writing things because I have no self control. 

I can’t think of any trigger warnings, but let me know if I missed something.

Edit: I apologize if there’s mistakes with grammar or spelling, like I said I was having trouble fighting with tumblr while I was editing. So If you see something let me know!

Enjoy!

Start here: 

Hyrule and Twilight moved Wild’s bed roll quickly, and once it was set up It didn’t take long for Wild to slide under the covers and pass out again. Twilight hadn’t left his side since and everyone could tell he wouldn’t leave without being forced. So of course everyone looked to Time to make the call. Time couldn’t recall exactly how he had gained the role of de facto leader but he just decided to roll with it rather than fight it. He wouldn’t mention it to anyone but he kind of liked the idea of being the father figure in some strange way. Being the father figure had it’s perks. It gave him new insights to how each person in their group handled stressful situations. Twilight for example, would often turn retrospective. Becoming quiet and stoic and often would step into the place of second in command. The downside to that however is the fact that Twilight would sacrifice important things like eating and sleep if he deemed it necessary. Taking that knowledge into account, Time stood from the side of the cooking pot where he was making another batch of scrambled eggs and went to sit next to Twilight with a sigh.

“How are you holding up?” He asked eyeing the dark bags that clung to the skin underneath Twilight’s eyes.

“Hm? Me? I’m just fine.” Twilight said nonchalantly taking care not to look Time in the eye. Time snorted, easily seeing through his stoic front and decided to cut right to point.

“Pup, you need to sleep.”

“No, I don’t. I told you I’m fine.”

Time gave him a flat look and raised an eyebrow.

“Oh really? How long has it been since you slept? By my estimate I would guess about a solid two days.” Time challenged and watched as Twilight worried at his bottom lip before he slumped.

“I’ve gotten some sleep since then,” Twilight said quietly.

“Don’t try to lie to me, you know I can see right through you.” Time responded in kind and put a heavy hand on Twilight’s shoulder.

“I promised I’d watch over him.” Twilight said shrugging off Time’s hand and sitting up straight again, setting his face into a determined mask. Time had a feeling that getting Twilight to sleep was going to be a battle in and of itself but he was ready for a fight. Time sighed and leaned back on his arms and stared at the quickly darkening sky above them. He could see the shimmer of foreign stars beginning to twinkle above them and he steeled himself.

“Alright, I can understand that. But I doubt Wild would want you to run yourself into the ground.” Time tried to reason but was met with a stubborn shake of Twilight’s head.

“What if something happens? I can’t risk it.” Twilight said as his eyes moved sluggishly to look at Wild’s sleeping form. In sleep Wild almost seemed to be completely at ease. If it wasn’t for Wild’s furrowed brow and the occasional small gasp that shuddered through his frame Twilight could almost believe it. Time joined him in looking at Wild and his eye softened. Wild twitched and groaned quietly and Time leaned over and gently laid a hand on Wild’s forehead. It was warm and slightly damp from sweat and fever. Time let his hand fall away and for about the millionth time that day he wished he could do something to help Wild.

“You don’t have to do this alone, You have seven other heroes here to help. Unless you think we’re incapable of protecting our own.” Time said calmly and watched out of the corner of his eye to gauge Twilight’s reaction. He could see something bubbling under the surface and watched as Twilight’s eyes hardened slightly at his comment.

“You know I don’t think that.” Twilight said hotly and Time sat up fully and faced him.

“Then what is it? Why are you so dead set on running yourself ragged?” Time pressed and the pained look on Twilight’s face spoke volumes. Time could feel the bottom drop out of his stomach.

“By the Goddesses Pup, are you punishing yourself?” Time asked in astonishment and the way Twilight set his jaw Time knew that was exactly what he was doing. Time could feel his heart break at the thought of his protégé beating himself up like this. Just how long had Twilight been torturing himself with his own guilt?

“It’s what I deserve Time, I could have killed him. Gods the look on his face when I… I don’t know if I’ll ever forgive myself.” Twilight whispered as a shimmer of tears glazed over his eyes. Time didn’t know how to respond. He knew anything he could say would just be dismissed off hand. So he didn’t say anything and just reached over and pulled Twilight into a hug. There was a second where he thought Twilight was going to push him away, shut himself down and end the conversation right there. But he was relieved when he felt Twilight’s arms wrap around his back. Time could feel a shudder running through his descendant’s form as he worked to keep tears at bay.

“It’s alright, we’re all hurting.” Time soothed as his rubbed circles on Twilight’s back, willing him to confide in him, to lessen his self imposed burden.

“How can I even call myself a hero when I can’t even tell friend from foe?” Twilight asked in a broken voice that was muffled against Time’s shoulder. Time squeezed him tighter as if he could stop the other from falling apart.

“We were all a victim of Dark’s illusion, punishing yourself like this will not help anyone.” Time whispered as he hugged Twilight tighter.

“Never doubt that while you are a hero it doesn’t make you infallible, you’re only human. A fantastic, brave, selfless, wonderful human.” Time urged pulling Twilight out of the hug to look him in his eyes. He could see the pain in them and Time squeezed his shoulders.

“The fact that you’re still determined to make things right and sacrifice yourself in the name of doing the right thing makes you one of the strongest heroes Hyrule has ever seen. I am so incredibly proud of you.” Time said sternly and watched as the tears that Twilight had been valiantly battling back for the past few minutes finally spilled over and streaked down his face.

“Go to bed, you can trust that we will protect you and Wild with our lives.” Time said letting his hands fall away from Twilight’s shoulders. Twilight nodded mutely and stood wiping away the tears quickly and moved to collect his neglected bed roll. Time sat next to Wild watching over him dutifully until Twilight returned, bed roll in hand and set up at Wild’s back and laid down to sleep.

Time waited for a little while after Twilight laid down to make sure he was actually sleeping. It took a few minutes but Twilight’s tense posture slowly relaxed, and soon Time could hear the slow soft breaths of sleep drift from the bed roll at Wild’s back. Twilight was completely exhausted but Time was sure he would wake up at the lightest of noises. So very carefully he stood and padded away to talk to the others.

“I see you’ve finally got wolf boy to sleep.” Legend said not looking up from the abandoned cooking pot. He seemed to be trying to salvage the eggs but it was a failing endeavor. Not that anyone seemed hungry to begin with.

“Not so loud, this whole situation has really taken a toll on him and I don’t want to disturb his sleep.” Time murmured softly casting a worried glance over to the sleeping pair on the other side of their small camp. There was no sign of movement and Time felt his shoulders relax slightly.

“Well he can join the party, it’s not like we’re doing any better.” Legend muttered acidly and was promptly elbowed by Hyrule.

“Don’t be cruel Legend. Honestly what has gotten into you?” Hyrule admonished in a harsh whisper and Legend had the grace to look ashamed for a split second before it was replaced with a scowl.

“Please let’s not argue, I’m not in the mood,” Time groused and sat on the ground with a soft thump. He felt suddenly tired and he just wanted to figure out the plans for watch and rest. Warriors seemed to sense Time’s exhaustion and gave him a nod.

“Alright, we need to figure out pairings for watch tonight,” Warriors said looking around at the small group of assembled heroes.

“Do we really need to have pairs still? It seems we’re out of danger now that we’re not next to that blasted tower.” Legend asked finally dropping the pretense of trying to fix the eggs to lean back against the stump behind him. Warriors shook his head.

“We don’t know that. Sure we had a change in scenery but now we don’t know where we are and we’re out in the open.” Warriors explained simply and was met with nods and shrugs in agreement. Legend shrugged begrudgingly and gestured for him to continue.

“We should also make sure we report anything we find suspicious,” Warriors continued and Time broke in with a question.

“What would you consider suspicious?” Time asked genuinely curious as to what Warriors would say.

“Odd noises, moving shadows, weird feelings, anything that would strike you as out of place.” Warriors answered as he gave the darkened field around them a distrustful scan.

“Do you honestly think anything like that will show up?” Sky asked softly, his posture straightening and his hand coming to rest on the hilt of the master sword.

“Like I said, there’s no way for us to know, and I would rather be over cautious then caught unawares.”

Time nodded approvingly, he was glad to have someone like Warriors around. Wars was a great strategist that always had a knack for finding the perfect strategy for defense as well as attack.

“Well who wants to be first watch then?” Warriors asked and looked around for volunteers. After a quick debate, watched boiled down to Warriors and Wind taking first watch, Hyrule and Legend taking second watch and Sky and Four for the third watch. Which left Time for the last watch of the night.

“I’ll join you for last watch” Warriors said firmly but Time shook his head.

“I’ll be okay, you need your rest.” Time argued and Warriors pursed his lips.

“No one should be alone for watch, it’s too dangerous.” Warriors reasoned but Time wasn’t convinced.

“But you’ll be tired, how much help will you actually be?” Time asked but Warriors just shook his head.

“That won’t be an issue, and even if I’m tired it’s better than being alone and get snuck up on.”

Time mulled over War’s logic. He didn’t want Warriors pushing himself too far but he couldn’t see another way around it. Still it took some convincing for Time to begrudgingly accept Warriors joining him for the last watch.

“Fine, but I don’t want to hear any complaining that you’re tired then.” Time teased and Warriors waved away his concern.

“Please old man, you act like I’m Sky or something,” Warriors shot back and Sky let out a small noise of protest.

“Hey! It’s not my fault I need sleep, you guys are exhausting,” Sky said with a laugh before he let out a small cough. An alarm bell rung in Time’s head and he eyed Sky with a critical stare.

“You okay Sky? Are you feeling alright?” Time asked letting a note of worry lace his words. Sky gave him small smile and shrugged.

“I’m fine, just had a little tickle in my throat.” He reassured easily and gave Time a lopsided smile. Time hummed in thought, he really hoped Sky wasn’t getting sick that was the last thing they needed. After a few more minutes of scrutiny Time nodded.

“Alright, but if you feel like you’re getting sick let us know.” Time said with a serious look and Sky nodded and gave him another easy smile.

“Will do. Now if you guys don’t mind I’m going to turn in. Don’t stay up too late.” Sky said getting to his feet and made his way to his own bed roll.

There was a little small talk after Sky turned in, but it felt strained. No one really had the energy to talk and any conversation quickly petered out into moody silence. It didn’t take long after that for the others to peel away from the group and make their way to their own beds. Time hung back lost in thought as the others turned in, his mind drifting back to the events of the last few days.

Why? Why did Dark suddenly show himself? They had been traveling around together for the last few months fighting infected monsters with no clue who was behind it, and now suddenly Dark decided to make it known that he was involved? No, something wasn’t lining up. What had changed? No matter how hard as he racked his brain Time couldn’t puzzle out the reason. Maybe he would bring it up to Warriors, he might have some insight that Time couldn’t see.

Time stood then, suddenly filled with a nervous energy that made him want to move. He grabbed the pot over the fire and emptied out the sad attempt at dinner. His eye drifting over to Wild and Twilight as the last of the slightly burnt eggs tipped out onto the grass. His mind turned over the little information he had, trying to find a pattern, a reason for the change in tactics.

It was clear that Dark wanted something from Wild, but did it actually stop there or was there something he was missing. He supposed Dark was testing the waters, testing for weak links in the group. That very idea made his blood boil. They all had their issues sure, but the idea that Dark was actively working to use those issues as a weapon against them made him sick. Time put the empty pot next to the fire suddenly angry and rubbed his face in frustration. He wouldn’t, no, couldn’t let this continue. He didn’t know how, but he would make damn sure that whatever plan Dark was scheming would fail.

Time grabbed his bed roll and walked softly back over to Wild and Twilight. As quietly as he could manage he set down his bed roll and laid down by Wild’s feet but found that sleep wouldn’t come. His mind continued to turn over the conundrum before him. But trying to figure out the plans of a madman was proving to be a bigger task than he anticipated.

Time flopped his arm over his eyes and tried in vain to sleep. He heard Wild shift and grumble uneasily in his sleep and Time draped his other arm across Wild’s legs hoping it would comfort him enough to dispel any nightmares he might be having. Time heard a grunt from Twilight and felt a dull thud of something flop across Wild’s shoulders. Time peeked out from under his arm and saw that Twilight had half draped himself over Wild. For a moment Time was worried that Twilight was awake but smiled softly when he heard a light snore come from Twilight accompanied by a small twitch of his fingers. Wild had stopped moving as well apparently soothed by the added weight. Time contemplated moving Twilight, worried that the added weight would aggravate Wild’s chest but thought better of it when he saw Wild’s lips turn up slightly at the corners.

Time covered his eyes again and made a promise to himself that come what may, he would do everything in his power to protect his family. With that firm promise set in his mind Time finally drifted off to sleep.

***************

Everything was a foggy haze half lit by the silver moon. The fog was so thick Wild could practically taste it, swim through it even. The taste of moss and trees turning lush autumnal colors and a faint sweetness of decaying things skittered across his tongue like dried leaves. Tall trees towered above him like dark sentinels around him and looked down on him like he was a lost child.

Wild was lost. Hopelessly so. He was no longer with his compatriots, next to a warm fire but for the life of him he couldn’t figure out how that had happened. His feet were bare and his toes dug into the damp forest floor. He felt a stab of cold shoot through his legs. Was he dreaming? Wild squinted around, examining the new landscape and took stock of what he remembered.

Wild remembered the weight of a pelt around his shoulders. The smell of wood smoke and the pull of stitches. Wild rubbed at his eyes, and took a deep breath trying to ground himself. He remembered being in pain, and the hum of voices around him but he couldn’t recall what was said. He was injured right? Yes, he was sure of that now, so why wasn’t he in pain now? He racked his brain grasping at loose threads of memory but couldn’t get them to connect. It seemed the more he tried to connect the loose threads of his ragged memories, the faster they would flutter away like butterflies on a breeze.

“Alright then, I’m dreaming.” Wild muttered aloud finally coming to a decision though that revelation brought little comfort. He sighed and put his hands on his hips and took another look around the foggy landscape and thought of his next step but came up with nothing. He couldn’t really see father than a few feet in front of him. He couldn’t see a trail or even the signs of animals moving between the brush.

“Would it be too much to ask for a hint?” He grumbled but didn’t get a reply. Wild snorted in exasperation and tapped his foot. He didn’t like the idea of wandering around the woods. The last time he did that it didn’t end well and he didn’t like the possibility of being caught off guard. He shuddered when the unwanted memory of black water and hands holding him down tickled at the back of mind. He sniffed and wiped at his nose in an attempt to distract himself. When the memory still clung to his thoughts he dug his toes into the dirt again and hugged himself. He knew it was a pointless attempt at self comfort, he could tell there was no comfort to be had in this place.

“Fine, it’s my dream. I’ll just stand here and do nothing.” He yelled into the darkened woods hands flying into the air to emphasize his words. He was being petulant he knew but he was getting fed up with this. He just wanted to rest, to be still and not have to think, just for one Hylia damned night.

“Why does my subconscious have to be so cryptic? Would it kill me to have a dream that’s straight forward?” Wild complained to himself as he started to pace. The fog was unnerving him with how still it was. He could feel mist beginning to cling to his eyelashes and he wiped it away in irritation. There was snap of a twig somewhere in the distance and his eyes snapped to the noise. Suddenly tense like a deer being stalked in the woods. Wild’s eyes stared intently into the suddenly swirling fog and waited with baited breath.

“Bold of you to assume this is your dream.” A dark voice chuckled in his ear and he yelped in surprise and looked around wide eyed. An arrow shot past his leg and buried itself deep into the ground beside him parting the fog around it. He stared at it dumbly, his heart pounding painfully in his chest. There was a another whisper of a voice just behind him and the hairs on his neck rose.

“Run.”

Wild turned and ran, not waiting for another hint.

Small twigs and rocks crunched and cut into his feet as he fled through the woods. His breathes came out harsh and fast, matching the frantic pulse in his throat. He leapt nimbly around larger rocks and bushes trying to put distance between himself and his unseen pursuer. Whenever he seemed to slow another arrow would thunk into a tree next to him and he would redouble his speed. He couldn’t run forever, his legs were screaming with the effort of his mad dash and his head was beginning to spin from lack of oxygen. Coming to the realization that the chase wouldn’t end anytime soon if he continued his mad dash, he slammed his heels into the dirt and skidded to a halt. Wild crouched and spun to face behind himself as another arrow whistled past his head.

‘Think damn it, stop being reactive.’ He thought savagely to himself as he took cover behind a tree when yet another arrow carved a divot out of the bark of the tree next to him. Panting Wild scooped up the arrow and held it defensively. It wasn’t the best weapon but it was only thing he had, and he had to make it work. Peeking out from his cover he saw nothing but swirling fog, looming trees and shadows. The arrows seemed to have stopped for now and he stood and hugged close to the tree.

“Alright, so if it’s not my dream then whose is it?” He called out in a breathless wheeze and was met with more laughter. He grit his teeth looking for another place to take cover.

“You’re kind of an ass, you know that right?” Wild snapped as he dashed to another tree and grabbed a second arrow. There was the sound of snapping twigs as his assailant moved closer.

“How rude! Don’t you know who you’re talking to?” The voice said in mock scorn.

“Oh I have a guess, but what I don’t understand is why you’re trying to kill me. Wouldn’t that be counter intuitive to your goal?” Wild asked as he eyed another tree and judged the distance.

“Oh, Wild. Who said anything about killing you? I’m just having some fun. You did ask for a hint after all.” The voice taunted from the other side of his tree. Without hesitation Wild whipped around the tree and stabbed the arrow deep into the trunk on the other side. Wild felt a savage kick to his lower back that sent him sprawling into the dirt.

“You missed,” Dark said in an almost bored voice.

Wild snarled and rolled just in time to avoid the boot that stomped down where he just was. Wild sat up quickly and jabbed the second arrow deep into Dark’s thigh. Black mist hissed out from the contact and Dark gave a loud roar of rage and swung an arm that narrowly missed the side of Wild’s head.

Wild rolled away again and sprung up to face his dark counterpart. Wild watched as Dark grabbed the arrow and threw it aside. Black mist roiled out from the wound but Dark paid it no mind. His red eyes flared brightly as Dark cracked his neck and rolled his shoulders.

“Is that anyway to treat your superior? You should be bowing at my feet!” Dark roared and rested his hand on the pummel of his sword. A clear threat burned in his gaze and Wild matched it with a glare of his own.

“I’ll never bow to the likes of you.” Wild spat bouncing lightly from foot to foot getting ready to dodge any attack that might be thrown his way. They stood facing each other for a moment and Wild watched as Dark seemed to collect himself, taking a deep breath. His bright red eyes faded slightly as he seemed to force himself to calm down. Wild didn’t trust it and he tensed, ready for a fight.

“I’m sorry, I lost my temper there for a moment.” Dark apologized softly, hand falling away from his sword. Wild was caught off guard at Dark’s attempt at a casual tone. He squinted at his dark doppelgänger, still tense and he waited saying nothing. Noticing this Dark chuckled dryly and rolled his shoulders again in an unnerving parody of Wild.

“You must be curious, I know I would be,” Dark said casually as he eyed Wild.

Still Wild said nothing, only stared with hard eyes at Dark. Wild waited for him to continue but the silence stretched between them. Wild felt his hands start to fidget and he forced himself to be still. Just as Wild was about to snap from the tension Dark finally spoke again.

“The silent treatment, how predictable,” Dark nettled and smiled when Wild sneered.

“That’s alright, I just need you to listen anyway. You see I was impressed by your performance at the tower.” Dark continued and began to walk around him. Wild narrowed his eyes and moved to keep Dark in sight.

“You handled the other’s attacks beautifully you know. I’m sure that if you wanted you could have destroyed them easily. I was practically speechless, truly I was. Which gave me a new perspective on a possible new avenue for our relationship.” Dark said casually as he put his hands behind his back. The vision of contentment and ease.

Wild felt bile at the back of his throat and his tongue was growing numb with horror and rage. The memory of that day blazed brightly in his mind. The siren song of sword on shield rung in his ears and the taste of copper flooded his mouth. Wild was ashamed to admit that it filled him with a sick sense of pride. He was about to spit out a reply when Dark raised a hand and suddenly Wild’s jaw locked around his words. His hands flew to his mouth on instinct and he watched Dark smile.

“Please give me moment to explain myself.” Dark said with a wolfish grin. Wild glared at him and bared his clenched teeth.

“I’m sure you’ve noticed by now that you’re healing has been hindered quite a bit. That potions and fairies aren’t quite as helpful as they once were maybe?” In a blink of an eye Dark was gone and Wild looked around himself with wide eyes. He was met with the sight of swirling fog and the faint sound of snapping twigs. A ghost of a laugh trilled from all around him and Wild huffed out an angry snort. Wild’s jaw ached from the magic keeping him mute.

No matter how hard Wild tried to pry his mouth open he couldn’t get his teeth to part. He tried to say words around his teeth but his vocal cords seemed frozen as well. Dark, it appeared was intent on keeping him quiet for now.

“At first I was just going to keep you weak and injured. Slowly wear the others down with the weight of their own worry and guilt while I slowly tightened my grip over your soul.” Dark’s voice chimed in the silent fog around him and Wild continued to scan the trees.

“But then it occurred to me, why have a puppet when I could have an ally instead?” Dark continued and if Wild could have said anything he would have been raging. Screaming his defiance until his throat bled. For now he curled his hands into fists at his side and focused on keeping himself a moving target.

“I see the look on your face, but hear me out. The others don’t see your potential! You’re absolutely devastating in battle, imaginative and quick witted. They’re wasting your talent.” Dark praised, his voice seemed to be behind him now. Wild slowly turned in a circle, eyes continually scanning in a futile attempt to find where Dark was hidden.

“If you join me I could hone your skills, make you unstoppable.” Wild felt a hand brush his shoulder and he spun to face it but was only met with more fog. A delighted chuckle rang out all around him and Wild felt a painful tug at his chest. He gasped and clutched at his heart as the tug became a burning pull. The feeling was akin to a fishing line being reeled in with a hook buried deep in the soft tissues of his heart.

“I could heal you, and you and me could rebuild your Hyrule. Make it better than before and redeem yourself in the eyes of the people you’ve failed. Hell, I can even make you whole once again, give you your memories back. And all you have to do is join me.” Dark said as he slowly walked out of the mist, one hand raised lazily in the air. Wild could see Dark’s fingers twitch ever so slightly as he talked.

Wild backed up against a tree breaths coming out in harsh gasps. He wanted Dark to shut up and let him think. He wanted the irritating pull at his heart to stop. But most of he wanted the traitorous thoughts that whispered in his mind to take the deal to be silent. Those little voices made him sick and he kept repeating to himself that it was all lies. Legend warned him Dark would try to manipulate him, this was just a way to try to gain his trust or play off his own guilt. No, he wouldn’t accept this. There was no way he would accept. Never. He repeated to himself with all the shaky determination he had left.

“Or maybe it’s not Hyrule or yourself you’re looking to fix,” came a whisper in Wild’s ear and he swung a desperate fist, trying to connect with Dark but was only met with empty air.

“I can help her you know, Zelda.”

Wild’s heart skipped a beat. His blood ran cold and he covered his ears trying to block out Dark and his slimy words that promised impossible things. Guilt ripped at his heart like a physical blow and it was all he could do to stay standing. Though he couldn’t see Dark anymore, Wild knew he was grinning an evil toothy grin knowing he scored a hit.

“You’ve seen her wake up screaming, weeping and broken. It must break your heart to see her that way. I could help her, heal her, make her whole again and take that pain away.”

Wild fell to his knees wheezing in broken breaths. Lies, it was all lies. Guilty tears pricked at his eyes and he curled in on himself but Dark’s words still found their way into his head.

“You left her alone for over one hundred years with the Calamity.” Dark’s voice whispered softly through his mind. The words caught like cobwebs on the shattered edges of Wild’s guilt and clung there like sticky sap on a tree’s bark.

“It must break you every time you see her screaming from night terrors or see how she flinches away from unexpected touches. Especially since you know it’s all your fault.” Dark said almost soothingly. Wild heard the crunch of leaves and stones as Dark stood in front of him. Wild didn’t look up, couldn’t look up, he felt chained to the misty floor by Dark’s words. In one fluid movement Dark sat on his haunches and gently brushed Wild’s bangs away from his face.

“If you help me, I’ll help you fix what you’ve destroyed by your constant failures.” Dark finished kindly, his hand dropping away from Wild’s face.

Wild finally lifted his tear stained face to meet Darks glowing red eyes. When had he started crying? Wild couldn’t remember. Wild was breathing so hard it shook his frame. He didn’t know what to think, his head was filled with conflicting emotions. Rage at Dark’s assumptions that Zelda was somehow broken warred with guilt over his past failures. Worst of all there was a horrible, desperate part of him that begged for the redemption Dark promised. He hated how his heart fluttered with a devastating hope. Hated how even knowing that it was all lies, just a means to an end, a small part wanted to trust Dark and his slimy false promises. Dark seemed to see Wild’s inner turmoil and he smiled kindly.

“This is a lot to process I know. If I were you I’d be reeling. Tell you what, I’ll give you some time to think it over. I’ve got plenty of time after all.” Dark said as he stood smoothly and turned and walked slowly away with an airy wave. His posture practically screamed his delight at the chaos he just caused.

Forcing himself to his feet Wild stood shakily and held his head in his hands. His mind was still screaming confused and conflicting thoughts and arguments and he fought to get them back into order. He felt the magic making him mute suddenly snap away and he coughed and gagged as the bitter magic seemed to drip down his throat.

“I promise, I’m going to kill you.” Wild called weakly after Dark’s retreating form and he heard a soft chuckle on the breeze.

“Oh, we’ll see about that. I would wish you a good night’s rest, but I think it’s about time for you to wake up.” Dark called out without turning around. With a wave of his hand Wild felt his body suddenly fall limp. Before his head hit the ground of the misty forest floor his eyes popped open and the sudden rush of reality crashed over him in a wave of pain and misery. It was going to be a long day, and he felt nowhere near ready to face it. But it wasn’t as if he had a choice. He never had a choice.

[ejm513]

FAIRY TAIL NEXT GEN CHILDREN-NALU EDITION

DISCLAIMER: 

1-I know there is now a cannon child for edo Nalu and edo Gruvia with names and everything. I also know that Gajeel and Levy have twins and Levy is currently pregnant in 100 Years Quest.  I love it and their names and everything about those precious babies-but I’ve had these ideas and characters and backstories growing and developing in my head for years so I’m being the stubborn Taurus that I am and sticking with it. 

-Also please forgive any misspellings and grammar mistakes as I am dyslexic and my school failed us at teaching spelling and grammar. I did my best. 

Hello my lovelies! I am back with the Fairy Tail post and starting with a bang! 

I’m working on my next gen story and am determined to make it work this time... so I’m making very detailed profiles for my OC’s that are going to show up and it was so much fun I thought I’d share them with you! 

Because of how unwieldly the document was getting I’m going to break it up by pairing staring with Nalu!!! 

God I love them...

RANDOM FACTS:

-After the less than stable childhoods the members of the guild had, when they started to have children, they decided to give them as normal a life as possible.

That means the following:

-Many of those who have kids choose to stop taking the longer and dangerous jobs-or at least don’t do nearly as many of them. This is so they can be there for their children and not reduce the risk of not coming home. That doesn’t mean there still aren’t adventures and that these dangerous missions don’t happen, but many of them are weary of the risk. Except for Natsu and Erza… they are always the exception.

-Naturally, the kids are members of the guild from the moment of their conception. However since they live much more stable lives and don’t need to work and take on jobs as children they don’t become official guilds until 13.

-Most of them start taking on summer jobs or small jobs during the school year with their parents starting then and as they get older-like with in a year or two-they start going on solo jobs.

-And yes I said school year because they make their children go to school like normal kids and get the education that most of them never got. (Please note if I mention anything in particular about school or schooling system it is going to be heavily based on the American school system as I went through that system and somehow came out the other side, so that’s what I’m familiar with)

-All of the children suffer from the same illness the Ultear did as child to varying degrees of severity because of how strong their parents. I say varying degrees of severity because some were able to handle it better than others, but none actually died (obviously

 THE DRAGNEELS: (NATSU X LUCY)

 Lila Dragneel:

Birthday: January 17th, 797

Magic type: Fifth Generation Fire Dragon Slayer; a dragon slayer who was taught and trained by first or second generation dragon slayers

Appearance:

-Height: 5’4 (about the same as Lucy)

-Hair color: Strawberry blonde-or more specifically Lucy’s blonde mixed with Natus’s pink

-Eyes: Exact carbon copy of Natsu’s-large and black.

-Has Natsu’s smile and more of athletic build but she is still uh… gifted

 -Otherwise is Lucy’s clone

IMPORTANT FACTS:

-She got the name the name Lila because it’s close to Layla, and for whatever reason I like to think Layla would have liked Lilacs so it’s from the flower too.

 -She fell victim to the same illness Ultear did. Because she’s been so strong from the beginning, she handled it relatively smoothly.

-She’s known for her physical strength

 Personality:

-Warm and bubbly

-A little whiny

-Loyal to a fault

-Stubborn

-Blunt like her father

-Very childlike and innocent like her father

-Very intelligent like her mother, but can be naïve and dense like Natsu

-She loves books and reading like her mother but is no writer.

-Unlike her father she is not the type to go out and seek fights… However… as Marie from the Aristicats said;

  -She was always a good student-particularly excelling in Literature and languages and anything physical (AKA she dominates PE and dodge ball is terrifying with her)

-Though not one to start a fight she does have a tempter and has gotten a number of detentions and at least one suspension for her reckless and destructive tendencies.

-Though if you ask her it’s never her fault because someone kept bugging her until she snapped and they deserved it.

Relationships:

-Extremely close with her mother

-Super close with her father and just seems to click with him more than Lucy. She’s a bit of daddy’s girl and will proudly admit it.

-Also close with her brother. They get along but he more than anyone else can push her buttons. They can fight and because they are Natus’s children it gets physical fast. But they’re still close and love each other.

-Her best friends include: Hazel Redfox and Eliza Fullbuster.

-And Happy. Always Happy

 -She tried to be friends with the older and therefore seemingly cooler Aurora Dryer but stopped said friendship after a nasty incident with Aurora and little Eliza.

-Her closest friend is Nick Fullbuster.

-They have somewhat of banter like Natsu and Gray in the sense they’re competitive with each other

An example of a banter:

“Spicy pink head!”

“Ice fairy princess!”

“Destructor!”

“Stripper!”

“Whiny pants!!”

“Pretty Boy!”

“Oh so you think I’m pretty huh?”

“SHUT UP!!”

It’s all-in good fun though.

-It’s also obvious that especially as they get older there is a HEAVY amount of romantic/sexual tension in this banter.

-Everyone but Lila is aware of this. It doesn’t become clear to her until it more less it’s her in the face.

Jude Ingeel Drangeel- Nickname Iggy

   Birthday: September 3rd, 802

Magic type: Celestial Magic.

Appearance:

-Height-5’7 (same height as Natsu)

-Hair: Spikey like his Natsu’s but blonde like Lucy’s

-Eyes: Natsu’s Eye Shape and Lucy’s color

-Same build as his father

-More or less a clone of his father with a few differences

-IMPORTANT FACTS

-His name is Jude Ingeel because both Natsu and Lucy agreed that Ingeel Drangeel was a little too much.

-He’s named after both grandfathers, because even though Jude Heartfillia was an ass hat to Lucy they left each other on a positive note and I like to think had she been able to she would have reconciled with him.

-He got the nick name Iggy because his sister thought Jude was stupid and boring and just started calling him Iggy and it stuck.

-Also known for his physical strength

-Also got the same illness Ultear had and like his sister got through it with relative ease

Personality: 

-Loud

-Boisterous

-Loyal to a fault

-Protective to a fault

-Scary energetic

-Extremely warm and kind

-Stubborn

-Blunt

-Loves reading and writes like his mother.

-More willing to start a fight than sister, not as bad as his father. He knows there’s a time and place… most of the time

-Most of the fights he starts are with his older sister and Eliza (the later being with words)

-Extremely intelligent and not as dense and naïve as his father or sister.

-He only did okay in school because he was bored most of the time and just didn’t really try... he was also a familiar face at detention.

-He excelled at anything physical (again dodge ball is terrifying with this kid), anything involving writing and oddly music. No one knows where on earth he got it from.

Relationships

-He considers everyone in Fairy Tail his friend

-Very close with his mother, has been called a mama’s boy on occasion but swears he’s not

( *cough cough* he is  *cough cough*)

-Considers his father one his best friends

-Close with his sister but he does enjoy pushing her button a little too much which causes a lot of arguments that more than not escalate into physical fights.

-He also likes just tossing her over his shoulder to piss her off and because he can.

-He’s friends with Nick Fullbuster and Simon Scarlet by association but… they’re more like the annoying older brother’s he never asked for.

-His best friend in the whole world (besides his father and Happy) is Eliza… though their relationships can take on more of the trappings of the rivalry of their parents. It doesn’t turn physical because he knows better and doesn’t want to turn into a human popsicle, but it’s a little more heated than Nick and Lila.

-Everything jokes they’re going to end up together like they’re older siblings and to that Iggy said;

“Listen I love Eliza, she’s like my sister. Heck I like her more than my sister sometimes! But I would never, ever, ever never ever ever ever ever… EVER date her.”

-He then proceeded to get blasted into oblivion by a jet of water

-He does however have a bit of a crush on Rose Scarlet.  

And there you have it! Hope you like it! Next up is my personal favorite and OTP-Gruvia!!

[emachinescat]

And That Would Be Enough

A Merlin Fan-Fiction

by @emachinescat

@febuwhump day 27 - “I wish I had never given you a chance”

Summary: In a moment of grief, Arthur says something to his newly appointed Court Sorcerer that he instantly regrets. 

Characters: Merlin, Arthur

Words: 2,752

TW: None

Note: Emotional whump is still whump, right? :) This was written while sick, and I didn't have time to edit, so please bear with me if there are any mistakes. I will go back and edit after posting; I'm on a bit of a time crunch. This takes place in an AU Camelot where Arthur lives, the knights are all alive, and Merlin is made Arthur's court sorcerer.

Keep reading here, or on AO3!

If you enjoy, please consider liking, commenting, or re-blogging, and you can follow me for more content like this! :)

Words are powerful things.  As king of Camelot, Arthur Pendragon knew very well how a few simple words had the power to heal or to destroy, to build or to tear down, to foster friendship or feed hatred.  He had seen words ruin lives, give hope, change the course of entire nations.  His own words had impacted his kingdom and the people around him in unprecedented ways. 

The words of a king held the potential for great and terrible things, which was why Arthur always chose his words as king so carefully.  The words of a grieving friend had just as much power for making or breaking a world, if not more so – and despite all his diplomacy, all of his training, the king of Camelot still struggled to choose his words wisely when he was hurting, particularly when he was speaking to those closest to him.  Perhaps that is the way of humanity – we allow our naturally self-destructive nature to chip away at the relationships and people that mean the most to us, and sometimes, when life spins too far out of our control, we snap, and words that we do not mean, never would mean, come flying out like an arrow from a ranger’s bow, aimed straight for the hearts of our dearest friends.

Now, Arthur Pendragon’s words had changed no one’s life more completely than his former manservant, Merlin’s.  Just a week ago, Arthur’s lips had formed the words in front of his court and Camelot that Merlin was not only to be a freeman of Camelot, but that magic was legal in the kingdom after over twenty-five years of fear and hatred for peaceful magic users, and that it was Merlin, his new Court Sorcerer, who would oversee the magical protection of Camelot, and who would ensure that magic was only used for good.  Arthur would never forget the disbelieving joy shining in Merlin’s eyes in that moment as he gazed out upon the home that finally accepted him, looked at his king and saw nothing but pride and friendship in his gaze where he had once feared fear and judgment.  It had been a staggering moment for Arthur, that weighty realization that Merlin had truly lived his life in fear of being killed because of how he was born, that the king was now witnessing a soul set free and the beginning of a new era.  Never, he told himself as he watched his Court Sorcerer wave tentatively to the gathered crowd, would he allow Merlin to go back to feeling like he was a mistake, like he was a monster, like he wasn’t enough.

He meant that oath when he made it to himself.  Unfortunately, tragedy has a way of taking our promises, even the most sacred ones, and stripping them from us like bark from a tree.  Pain and loss break us down and force us to our knees and pull hurtful words from the pits of our pain and we throw them around at those who want nothing more than to help us.  

The attack on the patrol had been unexpected and brutal.  For the first time, king and warlock had fought openly, side by side, and Arthur saw yet again how powerful his clumsy friend truly was, and his heart swelled with pride and love for the man who had stood so loyally by his side for so long.  Merlin protected his king and the knights diligently, but as so often happens in any battle, someone strayed too far from the group and fell through the cracks.  Merlin tried to save Sir Arnold, a young knight who Arthur had personally scouted, recruited, and trained as part of his initiative to bring in more loyal and talented men regardless of nobility.  Arnold had been a farmer’s son from a small village on the outskirts of Camelot, and he was a natural fighter, a brave, selfless young man who had wormed his way into the hearts of Arthur and his men.  

He was only twenty years old when he was killed in the senseless, stupid bandit attack, and though Arthur had seen Merlin fight, watched the pain at the loss fill his eyes the moment that Arnold fell, the king’s grief and loss shrouded his vision and he lashed out after the battle at the only person who might have been powerful enough to stop it and hadn’t.  He knew that Merlin had done everything he had to protect all of them, and knew that Merlin too had been close to the young knight, who had thought magic was the most amazing art in the five kingdoms and had followed Merlin around like a loyal pup, bright eyes alight for more displays of magic.  And yet, despite knowing this, Arthur’s words careened out of his grasp in his shock and pain, and he said words to Merlin that took everything his closest friend held dear and smashed it to a million pieces.  Never had Arthur regretted words he had spoken so desperately the second they left his tongue.

“I wish I had never given you a chance!  What’s the point of your magic, Merlin, if you can’t keep the people who trust in you alive?  Arnold trusted that you would keep him safe, and you let him down.  You failed him.  Maybe my father was right.  Maybe magic’s more trouble than it’s worth!”

He didn’t mean a word of it, of course.  But Arthur had just watched a young man who had had so much potential die before his eyes, cut down by a bandit’s sword – a weapon normally so useless in the face of magic.  Grief had sunk its raking claws into his flesh and spit vile lies into his ears, and he lashed out at the person who had just saved his life, and everyone else’s – Gwaine’s, Elyan’s, Lancelot’s, Percival’s, Leon’s, Arthur’s lives.  One person had gotten himself into danger that even Merlin hadn’t been fast enough to stop.  And yet, instead of focusing on the fact that Merlin had saved everyone else, instead of thinking about how Merlin would already feel guilty and devastated at his perceived failure, Arthur allowed his emotions to twist his words into something to harm, not to heal, and he watched with horror as Merlin’s tentative grasp on control and self-worth crumpled with his face.

Arthur could feel the glares of his knights on him the moment the words escaped, but he had eyes only for his Court Sorcerer, who was backing away with a horrible, broken look in his eyes.  Arthur reached out a hand as if trying to grab the hurtful things he had said, as if trying to snatch them back.  But it was too late, and he lowered his hand.  “Merlin, I–”

Merlin shook his head, and Arthur could see him trembling.  “I’m sorry, Sire,” the sorcerer said, then he turned and disappeared, quite literally, into thin air.  Arthur knew he wouldn’t be far – he wouldn’t leave them unprotected, but decided to give Merlin time before he pursued this again.  Meanwhile, he knew, his knights would not be pleased with him, and as he predicted, they made no attempt to hide their disapproval for his treatment of his closest friend.  Arthur carried Sir Arnold’s body on his own horse, and the ride back to the citadel was passed in solemn silence.

Arthur dearly missed Merlin’s company during the short but hard ride home.

***

That evening, after Arthur had personally spoken to Arnold’s poor father, had somehow found it within him to give him the news that no parent ever wanted to hear, Arthur found himself on The Balcony – the one that his father, and now Arthur himself, used to look out upon his kingdom and address his people.

For a while, he just gazed out at the citadel, at the manifestation of all that his father before him, and then he himself, with Gwen and Merlin and his knights by his sides, had built and refined.  After a while, he realized that he was no longer alone, though he could see or hear no one.  

“I can tell you’re there, Merlin,” the king said heavily.

Merlin shimmered into view to Arthur’s left.  The king glanced over, slightly amused, mostly proud, to see that Merlin had unconsciously adopted the same stance as his king – spine erect, hands folded and forearms resting on the railing, chin high and face set firm.  In that moment, Arthur felt power and nobility radiating off of the sorcerer more acutely than he ever had before.  For the first time, perhaps, he could truly feel the weight of the destiny Merlin had told him about, see the prophesied warlock Emrys stand tall with the world placed squarely on his shoulders.  Arthur felt an aching desire to take some of that weight from his friend and bear it on his own back.

Instead, because it was the only way he knew how to deal with his emotions and affection for his former servant, Arthur complained.  “It’s freaky that you can do that, you know.”

“Do what?”

“Turn yourself invisible.  Are you sure it’s a power you can use responsibly?”

He imagined an amused smirk on Merlin’s lips, but when he glanced over at his friend, the warlock’s face had not changed; it seemed to have been carved from stone.

And so Arthur pushed back his fear and discomfort and grief and pain and said what he truly needed to say, despite how uncomfortable it was, despite how much he felt that he had no right to even speak to Merlin in that moment, let alone request his forgiveness, his friendship.  “I cannot express how sorry I am for what I said to you today.”

This time, Merlin shrugged – Arthur caught the motion in the corner of his eye.  “You spoke the truth, Sire.”

Arthur really hated it when Merlin called him Sire .  

“No, I didn’t,” the king insisted, and when Merlin continued to stare forward, he couldn’t help himself – couldn’t stand to see Merlin shouldering a blame and a pain that Arthur had helped put there, had encouraged with thoughtless words and his own misplaced grief.  He reached out, grabbed Merlin by the shoulders, and spun him around so they were facing one another.  Merlin looked up at him, and Arthur saw why Merlin had refused to look at him.  

He was crying.

Arthur let go of his friend’s thin frame so abruptly it was as if he had been burned.  “Gods, Merlin, I’m sorry.  I had no right – no right – to make you feel like Arnold’s death was your fault.”

A tear crawled down Merlin’s face, caught on the edge of his cheekbone, and hovered there for a moment that spanned eternity.  Finally, it plunged, disappearing into the neckerchief that Merlin had insisted he keep wearing despite his new and improved title.  

“You made yourself very clear,” the warlock said in the most measured voice he could muster.  Anyone other than Arthur might have been fooled by the stoicism, but the king, who had known Merlin for so long and been through so much with him, heard the tiniest of tremors and could not recall a time that he hated himself more than this.  “And anyway,” Merlin continued.  “You were right.”  He spread his hands out wide, and magic, cerulean sparks of light that Arthur had come to associate with everything good that Merlin was, sprang to life between them.  As the king watched, the color changed from blue to purple to a dark, blood red.  “What is the point of my power if it can’t protect everyone ?”

Arthur, having been reminded so fully the power of words, chose his next ones very carefully.  “No one,” he said slowly, “not even the great Emrys , not even my oldest, dearest friend, can take care of everyone all the time.”

Another tear rambled down Merlin’s cheek, curled around his trembling chin before dropping off to join the first.  “But you were right, Arthur.  Arnold – he trusted me.”

“And he was right to.”  Arthur put every ounce of conviction he possessed into his assurance.  “I saw what happened, Merlin.  The moment he was hit, you were protecting Gwaine from a surprise attack from behind.  Your back was turned at just the wrong moment.  Arnold had wandered out of your line of sight, as well.  And you did everything to save him when he went down.”

“It wasn’t enough.”

“Sometimes our best isn’t enough,” Arthur reminded Merlin.  “But we have to make it enough.  We have to understand that even if we can’t protect everyone all the time, that we ourselves are still enough.  As long as we try , it has to be enough.”

“Well, it’s not.”

“I know.”

They stood in silence, and they grieved their fallen friend.  Somewhere along the way, Arthur’s hand found its way onto the back of Merlin’s neck, and without either of them realizing it was happening, the king pulled his dear friend into an embrace, and together they wept for the good man that had been lost.

When Merlin finally drew away, his eyes red and puffy – Arthur knew his own must look the same – he managed a shaky smile that didn’t reach his eyes, but Arthur knew that for now, it would have to be enough.  “I know you didn’t mean what you said,” the warlock acknowledged.  

“But it still hurt you,” Arthur observed.  Merlin dropped his eyes.  

“It doesn’t matter.”

“It does .  Merlin, I would be dead a million times over if it weren’t for you.  So would the knights.  But – but , that does not mean that if something happens to one of us that you failed.  You may be magic itself, but you’re still only one person.”

“Technically, I’m two,” Merlin argued miserably.  “And Emrys is supposed to keep everyone safe.”

Arthur studied his friend in the moonlight, then patted him kindly on the back.  “When I look at you, whether you’re doing powerful magic or tripping over a blade of grass, I don’t see Emrys and Merlin – I just see you .  And you keep me safe, you always have.  You do your job, and you do it well, Merlin.  Sometimes, people are lost, and it hurts .  But the only person you have control over is yourself.  Something I have had to learn the hard way as king is that you can’t always keep everyone safe.  You just have to do your best.”

Merlin sniffled, and he now looked like a lost child rather than a powerful sorcerer.  When he spoke, his voice was thin, weak.  “Do you still wish you’d never given me a chance?”

The question, asked sincerely, struck Arthur in the heart like an assassin’s blade.  “I never should have said that,” he said earnestly.  “And I know that I hurt you, and that you will spend years fighting those words said in a moment of pain, but I promise you that I will not rest until I have convinced you of the truth – that I have never been happier, or more proud, to have you by my side, old friend.  I’m delighted to have given you – and your magic, and our destiny – a chance.”

“Maybe you have the makings of a great king, after all,” Merlin joked, and this time, the tiniest of smiles glinted in his eyes.  He added mischievously, “Tell anyone I said that, and I’ll turn you into a toad.”

Arthur smirked.  “I don’t know, Merlin – maybe being a toad would be easier than all of this.”

They sobered at the collective thought of the friend they had lost.  Merlin scrubbed his face with the back of his hand.  After a moment of subdued silence, he took up the olive branch his king had offered him and joked, “But just think about how many things would want to kill you if you were a toad.”

Arthur raised an eyebrow.  “And that’s different than now because…?”

Merlin gave a curt nod as the two, in some unspoken agreement, turned and began to make their way back into the castle.  “Fair point.”

“Either way, though,” Arthur pressed, jabbing his elbow playfully into Merlin’s side, “I’d have you to protect me, right?”

Merlin took far too long to think about his answer.

“Merlin!”

“It’s just I’m not too fond of toads,” Merlin admitted.

“Merlin!”

And side by side, king and warlock made their way through the grief and uncertainty and guilt and hurt the way they always did –

Together.

[sunflowersandotherthings]

pride (and other destructive feelings) (harry styles)

a/n: okay, so i’m just starting with my writing, i put out my first two pieces today. it shocked me how many people noticed it, but it honestly made a good day even better. i’ve never felt the kind of happy one feel’s when their hard work (no matter how good or bad) is appreciated and noticed by others until now. it feels pretty dang good. this is about 1.2k words, and it’s not edited so there’s probably a couple mistakes. thank you for reading :)

warnings: a handful of no no words, a kind of suggestive sentence at the very end but it’s really not bad at all. 

masterlist

If it wasn’t for Harry’s pride, he would’ve given in by now. He really did miss you, but he couldn’t let himself accept that. It had only been a couple of hours, for God’s sake. But, when two people are mad at each other, hours can seem like days. He felt miserable, and he regretted everything he had said. Deep down, he knew you regretted it too. It had been such a stupid fight, starting over the fact that Harry put all of the dishes in the wrong place when he unloaded the dishwasher. 

“Harry, why the fuck are there forks in the plate cabinet?” You asked as he walked past you, face buried in his phone. He simply shrugged and continued on his way to the living room, leaving you to sort out all the dishes yourself. You had told him to put them away, and he did. He didn’t see why it was such a big deal.

“Harry, I’m talking to you.” You said, voice raising slightly so he could hear you over the tele. You briskly walked out of the kitchen and into the cozy living room, grabbing the remote and turning the volume down. 

Without even looking up from his phone, Harry said, “I was watchin’ that.”

“Obviously you weren’t, you were too busy being sucked into your phone,” You said, putting your hands on your hips. Turning your head to the side, you muttered, “Like always.”

“S’cuse me?” Harry said, finally turning the small device off and throwing it onto the couch beside him.

“Nothing Harry, it’s nothing.” You rubbed a hand over your face and began to turn around. You did not feel like starting a fight today. Quarantine had been tough for both of you, Harry was stressed because of having to reschedule his tour and you were stressed because of, well, Harry. Being stuck together and not being able to leave the house for weeks had been more difficult than you had first thought. Harry was irritable, and you guys had been picking fights over the silliest things.

Obviously, Harry was in the fight-picking mood.

“Know its not nothin’, it’s never nothin’.” He said shaking his head at you

“And what the hell’s that supposed to mean, H?” 

“M’ jus’ sayin. These days it’s always somethin’.”

You were starting to get mad. It was always something because Harry always gave you something to be pissed about. 

“You’re just always on your damn phone all the time and you never-”

“God, y/n, what are you? My mum?” He said, rolling his eyes at you. 

“Not my fault you’re acting like a child, Harry.” You didn’t want to fight anymore. You turned around, just wanting to take a bath and relieve all of the stress this man had been causing lately.

“Where are you going?” he asked, standing up from the couch and following you into the bathroom. 

“I’m trying to draw a bath, Harry. If you would leave me be. I’m sure your phone will keep you entertained enough.” 

“Christ, what is it with the phones?” He asked, angrily waving his in the air in front of your face. His voice was gradually getting louder. 

“It’s the fact that it’s all you’ve been doing, H. You’re on that thing while we’re watching movies, while we’re eating dinner, right before bed. It’s like you can’t spare a second away from the thing to help or talk to me besides starting fights.” You shouted, finally telling him what had been going through your mind. You knew you could trust him, he wasn’t doing anything bad. It was just the fact that he has chosen to spend more time with a screen than his living, breathing girlfriend.

“Maybe if you weren’t so fuckin boring, I wouldn’t have to use my phone to entertain me.” He yelled back. 

You turned your back to him, not knowing how to respond. You were shaking with anger at this point.

“I really wish that I wasn’t stuck in this quarantine with ya, I’m losin my damn mind. Can’t stand bein around ya so much.” He muttered, shaking his head at you. He knew what he was saying was mean, but he was so angry he didn’t care. 

“Then maybe you should find someone else to spend your time with, Harry. Or, better yet,” You walked out of the bathroom, slipping your sandals on and grabbing your purse that was hanging by the door, “I guess I just will.” And with that you walked out of the flat and onto the streets of LA. 

By now, Harry had cooled off and realized he had made a mistake by saying what he said. He was a jerk, he knew that much. He sat on your shared bet, biting his nails and staring at his phone screen. His text messages with you were opened up, and he had typed something into the message tab.

I’m sorry, i was a jerk, i didn’t mean what i said. Forgive me, love. Please come home, i was wrong.

It was typed out plane as day. He admitted his wrongs, he begged for her forgiveness. All he had to do was send it. But, something was stopping him. It was the part about admitting he was wrong. He knew he was, but a small part of him was telling him not to admit it, not to give her the satisfaction. 

Then, he thought of the virus. He knew she shouldn’t be going to see anyone else, he knew she wouldn’t risk it. They had both been playing it extremely safe and agreed not to make contact with any other people. He wondered where she had gone, if not to a friend or relatives house. She could be anywhere, it could be dangerous. Suddenly, that pride went completely out the window. He immediately deleted his text, deciding to call her instead.

The phone rang 5 times before she picked up.

“Whaddya want, Harry?” He could hear her sniffling on the other side of the phone, and his heart ached for the tears he had most likely caused. 

“Please, come home y/n. I was wrong, love. I didn’t mean anya it. Jus’ want ya to come home.”

Immediately, he heard the front door open, and he ran out into the main entry, confused. When he saw her, he hung up his phone and set it down on the table next to the door. He looked to her for an explanation.

--

You shrugged your shoulders, looking at the ground in embarrassment.

“I didn’t wanna risk going to anyone else.” You said. After you had walked out, you made it across the street before realizing it wasn’t a good idea to be out walking with no protection or anything. You turned around and when you got back to the door, you had hesitated. You weren’t ready to give in and fall into his apologizing arms. It wasn’t your fault, you had done nothing wrong and therefore you should stand your ground. Instead of going back into the flat, you sat down on the ground next to the door for what seemed like maybe an hour or two but felt like way more. 

“This is gonna be hard, us together 24/7 with no breaks. We’re gonna fight, lovey, but I need ya to know that when I’m mad, I don’t mean anythin I say. I’m so, so sorry m’love.” He held out his arms to give you a hug, but you ducked underneath them and ran down the hallway that led to your bedroom. 

“Maybe you could find a better way to apologize, Haz.” You said, winking and running into the room.

[miss-choco-chips]

Soul shards part 2

This isn’t edited in the slightest folks. Wrote this in a LONG car ride and I’m beat. Tumblr was being difficult and wouldn’t let me copy an paste so I had to copy every individual paragraph, so there might be some mistakes.

Shoutout to @sideeffectsofwriting who suggested damitim and kicked the muse into motion and @the-quiet-carrotcake who let me cry about this on chat.

.-.-.-

He needed to do what not even the Batman could achieve.  

He would bring Drake back.

-.-.-.-

11  - 16

Damian’s first gifted soulshard came from his mother, when he turned five. It was a beautiful orange-red dagger, with flecks of gold here and there, and he wanted to hold it more than anything in the world.

Then his mother put it in his hand, closed his fingers around it and held a kitten by the scruff and hind legs in front of him, as an offering. An order. A mission. And, once it was carried, the slightest hint of satisfaction in her eyes.

Those were the feelings the dagger was imbued with; expectation, and pride. Not for who he was, but for what he did. A heavy weight, and a cold one, right until the moment the mission was complete; after that, a short-lived warmth crept up his arm, the starting point the dagger in his hand.

Or maybe it was the kitten’s blood what chased the cold (and his sleep) away. It should have been comforting.

It wasn’t.

When Grayson chose him as his Robin, he sealed the deal by giving Damian an R shaped soul shard in the form of a brooch. It should have been an ecstatic moment for him, his second ever soul shard being gifted to him by his Batman.

It wasn’t. 

While warmer and lighter than his dagger, it felt… off. Their bond was just growing then, no trust nor love giving shape to the soul given away. Instead, Damian was presented with Grayson’s feelings of responsibility (to the city), despair (because they both have just lost their father) and reluctant resignation (because even when Grayson choose him, it was obviously not what he wanted, it couldn’t be, not when there was already a Robin fully indoctrinated in The Mission perfectly available and… more loved), as well as the barest hint of hopeful fondness.

He doesn’t hold it against him; that was just their beginning, and it was the gesture what was important, a gift from the soul that Damian hadn’t yet earned, a trust at giving himself away to the child he had just decided to take under his wing. Were Grayson to give him a new soul shard, he was sure the feelings wouldn’t be so harsh now that they had formed and nurtured this bond between them. Still, he treasured his brooch for what it was: a chance to prove himself, a chance at a home.

Drake’s soul (not a shard, not a piece, but the remainings of his actual soul; his core) was an entirely new phenomenon. The moment he received it, clenched it in his hands for the first time, it was imbued with a rage and contempt that didn’t surprise him, as those were the grounds of their relationship. But, with every passing minute, the feeling just… calmed down, like… forgiveness? Acceptance? It was like a pat on the back after a hard patrol with Grayson, after he made a mistake and the man would just sigh and tell him ‘do better next time, but let’s just put this behind us’. But… from Drake?

It- that was- there weren’t actual words to explain it. Damian had never heard of it, of a change on the emotions inside the soul, but, he supposes, this wasn’t something Drake had sharded with an idea in mind, this wasn’t a love confession or a methaporical friendly hug. Drake had just… given himself away, entirely.

Damian wasn’t sure what it meant, but the mystery of that pushed him relentlessly to the batcave, to the monitors where he would watch and rewatch old footage of Drake’s training, read old reports, dig as deep as he could in search of information that might clear things up for him.

That might explain the clench in his heart when he held the tiny soul.

.-.-.-.

He is missing.

Bruce can’t process it at first. He has every camera, every metahuman, every genius hero at his disposal… and nothing.  No one could find Tim, and he’s been gone for over a week. Seven days and twelve hours, if he was counting. Which he was, because seeing the pretty ice blue watch on his wrist, warm with admiration, respect and adoration, slowly turning cold and red and black was high on the list of the scariest moments of his life. 

He was holding his son’s soul, soon it wouldn’t feel any different than the Rolex he might wear for a charity.

It terrified him.

The only piece of Tim’s soul he could find (and it had taken him a while, to track down everyone Tim ever gave a shard to, even going so far as to dig Janet and Jack’s graves, because there were so many pieces; too many, although his Titans friends had flat out rejected his request to give them to him) to remain icy blue was Damian’s. Which would be fantastic for testing, for figuring out what was wrong, maybe even for tracking Tim down…  If Damian weren’t so dead set on keeping it in his direct line of sight, on the little leather pouch by his hip or dangling from his neck.

The twelve year old had proven willing to stab any hand that tried to take his soul shard away, accepting only those tests that were safe and could be made in front of his eyes.

-We could try to, like… mesh my piece of soul with Damian’s? -had suggested Dick, once, earlier on the week.

-And how, pray tell, would you do it? Drake himself is the one that shaped your necklace. This are his soul shards, no one but him can bend them to their will. 

-I mean… Cass’s father, Cain, he made dents and bumps in her soul, so it’s not like its impossible…

-…after years of abuse, from which her soul has yet to recover! Of all the stupid/!

Dick, on very little sleep and with worry and guilt battling it out inside his heart, rolled his eyes at Damian’s objections.

-We won’t hurt him for the hell of it, but he could be in danger, or lost, or who knows what! There’s little to no precedent about soulless people. Since when do you care so much about Tim’s wellbeing, anyway?

-And since when do you *not*?

That had ended the argument quickly. Guilt had won in Dick. Damian’s gifted little piece of soul remained at it’s pouch.  And Tim was still missing.

Bruce wanted to pull at his hair, yell and throw fists. He did none of these. Damian needed him. He had already failed one son.

.-.-.-.

12  - 17 

Life goes on, after a tragedy. And this tragedy in particular was a silent one; there was no blood, no screaming, no tears. Just someone that left it all behind and disappeared on the wind. And, as much as the Bats wanted to find him, Tim going on a solo trip wasn’t alarming enough for them to ignore the day to day dangers of Gotham, the multiverse threats, the alien invasions. As concerning as multiple soul shards changing color and losing emotion had been, the fact remained that it… just wasn’t priority.

Timothy could look after himself; the civilians of Gotham and the world at large couldn’t.   At least, that was what father said.

Damian was of a different mind.

He noticed it at first during a Justice League meeting. He had taken to playing around with the little ice blue ball when lost in thought, or was nervous, a habit developed after hours, days and months sitting by the cave’s monitors studying his predecessor.

So there he was, idly rolling it between his fingers, careful to not drop it, when he catches sight of Superboy…

(The Titans were a mess, Wonder Girl, SB and Impulse running around like headless chickens, dropping everything, no matter how mission-important, at the slightest mention of anything Red Robin related, recruiting the help of old fiends from their Young Justice days, hurting so much not even him, usually indifferent to his peers’ drama, could remain untouched by their pain) 

…being scolded by Superman. Which, would normally not even phase Damian, impartial about the clone outside of his relationship with Drake as he was.

But. But. When Superman layed a condescending hand on Kon El’s shoulder, something spiked inside Damian, a sudden and strong desire to slap that hand away, to growl at the man, to protect his/ 

…his best friend?  

That thought it’s what gives him pause, stops him mid step, where he was unthinkingly approaching the aliens. 

Those weren’t his feelings, but Drake’s.

At the realization, the little soul in his hand glowed and warmed and almost jumped right out of it.  It seemed to say ‘finally’.

Damian couldn’t breath.

.-.-.-.

He kept quiet about this new knowledge, but it nagged at him. He had to test this out. 

He held the small soul while watching Grayson train by the Cave’s trapeze. Rolled it between fingers with little to no trouble while covertly listening to Cain and Brown tease each other. Made a protective fist around it when he stumbled across Red Hood during patrol, catching the -now reformed- antiheroe mid flight. 

Admiration and yearning (teach me, choose me, love me).

Fondness and familiarity (bond with me, laugh with me, stand by me).

Trepidation and want (please look at me, please stop hating me, please let me watchadmirelove you). 

Those weren’t his feelings, so. Confirmed then. Holding Drake’s soul, he apparently had an open door to the man’s feelings. An insight to the deepest parts of him. 

Weeks into his discovery, he learned a few things. For example, how annoyingly emotional the young man was. Did Drake always feel everything this intensely? It was exhausting, and Damian at least had the option to put the soul away at it’s pouch, stopping the flow of emotions. Drake… well, he did leave it behind, after all. 

Which made him wonder, if he had Drake’s emotions at hand, what did it leave his predecessor with?

.-.-.-.-.-.

13  - 18

It pained Damian to admit this, but Drake was… good. Too good. Unbelievable so, for someone that started his formal training way later in life than Damian.  

The footage in front of him was one he had viewed already dozens of times, and he still couldn’t believe his eyes. A gift requested to his mother, footage from the Cradle, about two years before.  

At first, Damian had just wanted to uncover the mystery of Drake’s time away during Father’s absence. What happened during those months, to drive one like his Gradfather from mild admiration to almost obsessive, possessive desire? What elevated the, by the time, teenager to a spot previously occupied by none other than The Batman, and even beyond? 

His in into the League allowed him access to the answer. And he understood.  The mixture of recklessly brave plans, creatively executed acrobatics, heart-stopping genius and iron clad morals. Fighting against the Spiders, protecting the innocent at his back, all the while under tight schedule on his plan to land an unprecedented hard blow to the League.  

It was breathtaking. The young detective, that unmasked the man many believed was no more than a myth, the novice hero that when told ‘no’ started his own team of fighters, that while no one else thought it possible defied Death itself for the life of his adoptive father. Barely older than Damian himself, with half his years of training, and still so far away. Leagues ahead of him. 

Out of his reach… 

A grimace,  an unfamiliar tightness in his chest and then Damian was cracking his knuckles and typing away at the computer.  If his Grandfather viewed Drake above Father, then maybe Damian was going about this the wrong way, in his quest to surpass every Robin before him. He needed to succeed where even Father had failed, reaching to a step below Drake instead of the entire flight of stairs he had ahead of him.

  …but not for long.  

He needed to do what not even the Batman could achieve.  

He would bring Drake back.

.-.-.-.-.

It takes some time. He studies for weeks under Gordon, shadows Cyborg’s steps for a while, even declines patrol once or twice claiming a stomachache when he feels he’s close to a clue. Has the Titans permanently hacked (props of connecting from the Batcave’s computer, no one questioned the backdoor on their system, assumed it was Batman checking on them) and an alert programmed on his phone for every time some reporter catches sight of the Drake-Wayne heir (none so far, but, like a voice that sounded like Grayson singsonged, cover all your bases).  

And even after all of that, it was still Drake himself that pointed him in the right direction.  

Damian was idly scrolling down some online headlines, mind numb with tiredness barely paying attention to the titles, when the little soul between his forefinger and thumb gave him a spark, so sudden it was like an electric shock, sapping him out of it and forcing his attention to the article on screen. 

Serial killer known as The Gardener found tied in the front lawn of his supposed next victims, after seven months evading the Parisian police force. Family claims they never saw nor heard anything until the morning, when the father was about to head for work and stumbled across the handcuffed man, hand clutching his signature weapon, unconscious and still bleeding from, what the police assumes, was a short lived fight… 

The soul pulsed again. Disgust, rage, adrenaline… pride, vindictive pride. The same emotions that soared through him when a would be rapist fell to his sword during patrol. 

Quick eyes scanning through the article, nothing pointing towards a vigilante, no pattern that he could see pointing to his missing predecessor. And still, Damian knew.

Energy renewed, he scanned through older news, titles. Nothing sparked the soul, until a thwarted robbery on Scotland gave him pause. Again, the article itself was generic, no common points except the mystery of whoever stopped the crime from happening, but… his gut, and Drake’s gut, they were both screaming at him.  

This was him. What was he doing on Paris? Was he still there? Two articles, separated by a few weeks, was more of a clue than anyone had found this far, but it was still nothing. And the last one, with the Serial Killer, was from two days ago. Even if he told Father and he dispatched a velocist or super, it’d still be too  late. Drake wouldn’t have been able to evade them this long if he iddled long somewhere. Sighing tiredly he fell back into the chair, raising the little soul so it was eye level.

After all this time, after all his training, after all of father’s efforts to track his wayward son, it was proved only Drake could find Drake. A little, sleep deprived smile broke his scowl.  

He was too tired to feel frustration.

Not too much for admiration, though.

.-.-.-.-.

That same night, oceans away, a slim figure dealt the finishing blow to some wannabe gangsters on a upper class Venetian neighbour. They had been armed, but only the slightest of scratches decorated his arm. The other guys… weren’t so lucky. They’d be lucky if their broken ribs didn’t pierce a lung.  

The scared girls that he saved from being jumped (or worse) rushed forward once their attackers hit the ground, sobbing between their heartfelt thanks and praises. Trembling hands reaching for his cap-less back, the slippery material of his dark shirt slipping from their fingers. Still, he carefully moved out of range and tonelessly told them to call for the police, letting them comfort each other and waiting only until he could hear the sirens approaching. Then, he was gone, lost to the night that had spited him out to fight the treath minutes before.  

On the back of his mind, something told him he should be annoyed. He had been good to keep himself out of the media’s attention, dealing with crimes where no one would be able to pinpoint exactly who had been their saviour, or how had they been spared from the danger. Like the Parisian family. Now that was a clean work. Found the killer, guessed his next target and caught him just before the crime. In, fight, out. Easy, untraceable.

Two scared girls might not have the clearest memories of their traumatic attack, but ‘young, black clothed man fights off gangsters with a staff’ would surely make the headlines, which meant hailing ass as far from here as possible before anyone could trace this back to him.  

People tracking him raised in his gut… the closest thing to emotions he had nowadays (something he hadn’t been bothered with for years now), namely annoyance. He had a goal in mind, rules he played by, things to avoid. Having all that endangered was troublesome, and even worse was how inevitable it was. He couldn’t exactly ignore the crying girls, not because he cared, but his body always moved on its own on situations like this, personal preferences overrode by muscle memory.

How inconvenient.

And speaking of…

He barely nodded in acknowledgement when a shadowed figure fell into step besides him, keeping up on his sprint from rooftop to rooftop.

-My Master wishes to extend an invitation to dinner. He demands your company.  

Not Pru then, but not so different from what he expected.

He hummed, for show more than anything else, eyeing the leather pouch by the man’s hip. A Soul Carrier, nothing flashy but firmly attached. Classic League.

The shadow flinched. They all did. Something in his lack of soul scared them shitless when he payed attention to theirs, as if he would snatch them and steal away with it.

Ha. Please. He didn’t even want his own soul back, why in hell would he take theirs? He’d never feel lighter before.

And even if sometimes the emptiness inside made him eye with attention the knife he carried on his boot as a last resort, those moments were few and easily forgotten.

-Depends. Is he ready to pay for the pleasure of it? It’s been a while, I’m on need of cash and resources, so my fee has gone up.  

A moment of silence while the shadow listened on his earpiece for his answer. Then, a nod.

-Okay then. Tell him to send me directions to the place once I’m out of this country. And that if he wants me to wear something pretty, he better chose a nice, camera-less place. Also, if he doesn’t keep his hands to himself, he’ll need one of those shiny green pools of his to regrow a few fingers.

.-.-.-.-.

14  - 19

Todd’s emergency beacon called from Tokyo, interrupting their post patrol debrief. Father had programmed all their distress signals so they would always come through, no matter what else was doing on or what Do not Disturb protocols he might have. Nothing would get in the way to saving his sons ever again.  

When they answered, tense and (in Damian’s case, reluctantly) worried, it was to the sounds of heavy breathing and clang of metal against metal. A fight.

-/ing hell! Fuck! Goddamned little/ anyone copy me?!

Father, cowless but every bit the Batman, pressed a finger against the keyboard and dropped his voice am octave. 

-Red Hood, here cave, we copy you. What’s the situation?

The sounds of fighting never stopped, and whatever could keep Hood on his toes like this and forced him to call for help was enough to have Damian reaching for his Soul Carrier, where two different (in size and colorthen) spheres guarded each other. It was a habit he needed to train himself out of, but for now, a needed comfort. 

-I /shit shit SHIT, YOU LITTLE FUCKER/ I found the bastard! Tim!

A needle dropping could be heard in the following silence. Cain steps as she approached the batconputer could be heard  and that was something.

The smallest of the souls in his carrier pulsed at the sight of Brown’s distress as she clutched Black Bat’s hand, her other going to the almost completely red locket hanging from her neck. If it followed the pattern of both Grayson and Father, it would soon turn dark.  

(Unlike the clone and velocist, those two’s soul shards still retained the icy blue color, and Damian couldn’t help but think it had something to do with the fact that the people that had betrayed Drake the worst were the ones that were losing their connection to him first; Cain’s own compass was still mostly blue) 

Damian’s own soul basically jumped to his hand at the implication of what Todd was saying (he ignored the flash of disappointment that he wasn’t the one to find Drake, the little spark of something on the icy blue little ball that still reacted to that idiotic Todd…).  

Grayson was the one that basically pushed father out of the way, so he could lean over the keyboard, as if that would make him be heard clearer, hand fondling with the chain around his neck that was Drake ’s first shard, both to be created and to lose it’s warmth. 

-A-are you sure? Our Timmy?

-You have eyes on him? -demanded father as he typed away, faster than Damian ever remembered seeing, probably sending some kind of message to the Justice League for assistance.

-Damn right I’m sure, stumbled across him during my mission here, don’t know anyone as annoying/ FUCK can’t you see I’m on the phone ya lil shit?! I can do you one better than eyes on the bastard, B, I’ll put my hands around his weasly lil neck/! 

A window popped on the Cave monitor (of course Gordon was eavesdropping) as Oracle traced the call and hacked the street camera closest to Todd’s location. 

The figure was all in black, taller and leaner than Damian remembered. Or was that because he spent so much time watching footage of his time as Robin?

Drake was smaller then, baby faced and bird-boned. A child. Somewhere along the line, lost in studying his formative years, Damian had forgot the fact that he was a man, now.

He certainly looked the part, now. Graceful as fought Hood off, tough a lot more brutal, if Hood’s grunts of pain everyone the shiny staff made contact could be believed. He seemed in a hurry, too, judging by his almost too fast to be seen movements. 

The fight moved a little (likely Hood’s doing), and they shifted just enough for them to see, in the grainy quality of the camera, a second of Drake’s face before before he seemed to sense that he was being watched.

Something was thrown the camera’s way, a little gadget, and everything turned black. The only connection the Cave had to Drake now was the still going sounds of fighting. 

-Hood, tell him to stop! We don’t mean him any harm/

-I do, the little fucker broke my left wrist! Imma gonna show him!

-Hood! -now not only Grayson, but Brown too, chided. 

-Just stall him -commanded Father- Clark is on his way.

-Easy for you to say! Whatever he’s being doing this last few years, it gave him a hell of a boost. I can barely/ 

Silence. Not just Hood shutting up, but no more breaths, no more metallic clang. The line had been cut, something that shouldn’t been possible after all the upgrades father made to their comms. 

By the time Superman arrived to Gotham, an hour had passed, and not even Gordon could re install the connection to either the street camera nor the comm. Not that it would do any good: Hood was unconscious and brutally beated up, and not even a full scan of the city by various metas gave them any hint of Drake ’s location.  

The icy blue soul pulsed with guilt at hood’s state, but also an undeniable pride at the fact that Drake got away.

Damian felt like throwing it against a wall. Instead, he cradled it in his hands, against his chest, as he went to sleep that night.

He dreamed of grainy camera footage, the face in the recording handsome and lethal, the coldness on pretty eyes replaced by the emotional icy blue of his soul.

.-.-.-.-.

He woke up in the morning and laid on bed for a while. 

Ignorant on the emotional side of things as Grayson might believe him, Damian wasn’t about to lie to himself. 

There was no denying the clenching on his gut when the camera displayed the video of the dark figure fighting, the disappointment  when Hood failed to bring Drake home, the spark of annoyance at the fact that the tiny soul still reacted to the second Robin, the flash of white warmth that crept up him when he saw the results of Drake’s power on Hood’s battle wounds.  

The craving pumping his heart was like nothing he ever felt before.

It was kinda like seeing his mother holding her soul shard his way, like Grayson hands fastening the R brooch on his cape for the first time, like giving Father a ring and Nightwing a bracelet, nervous in a way that was unbecoming to someone of the Al Ghul’s household.   

It was wanting to receive and to be accepted.

It was even more than that.

It was holding Drake’s entire soul in his hand, small and battered as it was, and thinking ’I’ll fix this’. It was masterfully twirling it in his hand, easy from practice, letting Drake's  emotions wash over him, his fierce protectiveness over his friends, his honest fondness over the family, the growing approval every time Damian cracked a case or figured out a mystery on his own.

It wasn’t Drake himself, but at the same time it was.  

Damian dropped his head back into the pillow and raised the hand holding the tiny soul, his own gold, green and blue one laying on the mattress by his hip. It had tiny specs of ice blue on it, influenced against his will by the soul that shared the soul carrier with for so long now, not too different from the way his mother’s orange red soul had some dark blue hues dancing near it’s core, or how Pennyworth’s silver one had the barest hints of yellow, which the butler once told him were remnants of his first love.  

He never would admit to be emulating Todd, but in that moment, he couldn’t help it.

-Fuck.

[lilyoffandoms]

Hey there! No pressure to do this, but if you want to indulge me... it could be a scene, quick dialogue, or a full fic if you wish (or you can toss this! lol)

AU where Gabirel and Trystan meet for the first time at a bar after both of their blind dates stood them up.

Crimes Drabble AU - Trystan x Gabriel

Warning & A/N: None other than drinking. Decided to write in the style I’ve come to for this book/pairing. Thanks much for this. It was fun!

Quote edit by the lovely @aallotarenunelma

I look out across the crowded pub.

Stuffed to the brim.

Across the room, sweaty bodies grind against their dance partner and everyone else on the packed floor as music pumps from the speakers of some wanna be deejay that the bartender’s brother’s cousin’s neighbor probably convinced the manager to hire on for the night.

The tables in the back of the place that constitutes the restaurant portion this bar slash wanna be pub, are full of couples feeding french fries to each other and groups of raucous friends laughing over some stupid joke told every time they go out together.

Each seat at the rail is occupied by a mix of drunks drowning their sorrows. Or drunks hoping beyond hope that the answer to all their troubles is at the bottom of their next glass. Or drunks hitting on the poor soul next to them, spewing some cheap pick up line that never works but maybe it will this time, they think, if only the person they use it on is drunk enough to find it endearing through the filter of all the alcohol.

I knew I shouldn’t have bothered tonight. It felt wrong the minute I said sure, why not.

Why fucking not indeed, I had thought in the moment. Ruby wouldn’t set me up with anyone she didn’t think I’d hit it off with. She convinced me and I convinced myself that it would be good for me.

I toss the last contents of my glass back and look for one of bartenders. One mixing drinks, another restocking, and yet another flirting for tips.

Well, this, this right here was why fucking not. A text promising to make it up to me and reschedule soon.

I’ve met enough people, hell I’ve interrogated enough people to recognize a lie when I see one.

I attempt to flag the bartender down again. Any of them. I just want another drink.

I look down into my empty glass. Maybe it can tell me why I was this stupid. Stupid enough to accept his blind date set up and even more stupid to actually show up.

The promise of love was really just one disappointment after another.

I try to wave anyone down at this point. I need another damn drink because this empty one is providing me no answers.

What a fucking joke!

I stand on the rail and glance over the bar that at one time was polished. I see the bottle I’m looking for and stretch out to reach it while trying desperately to avoid touching the sticky bar.

“Here,” an accented voice smiles as a hand reaches beyond my own grasp to snag the bottle and pours me another glass in one incredibly fluid motion.

The woman next to me, that the stranger has reached around, doesn’t seem the least bit annoyed by this person pouring drinks across her own space at the bar. In fact, she seems quite please with the entire situation as she smiles stupidly at my bartending savior.

She lifts her glass to him and he obliges in pouring her another drink with a dashing smile and some flirty words judging by the blush that creeps down her neck to engulf not only her cheeks but her entire chest on full display.

I shake my head and grin at the exchange. I should have known this blind date was a horrific idea the minute my date suggested this place.

This is so not my scene.

“Thanks,” I mumble absentmindedly, sure that he’s moved on to entertain the woman beside me.

I take a sip and close my eyes wishing I was back home as the man shoves his way past her, making his excuses, and stands beside my bar stool.

“You are most welcome,” he grins as he picks up the conversation I was foolish enough to initiate. “I’m just pleased I could buy you a drink.”

“Technically you didn’t. You stole one,” I say with little emotion as I stare straight ahead into the mirror and watch him.

He hasn’t taken his eyes off me, not even acknowledging the woman still trying to regain his attention beside him.

“What?” I ask sharply and turn to him as he continues to grin at me.

“Hello.”

He smiles at me, that same brilliant smile he’s tossed at just about everyone that has paid him any attention since he walked into the place tonight.

“Hi,” I respond.

Smooth, I chastise myself.

I wish I hadn’t noticed him. I wish he hadn’t walked over here. I wish-

I wish he would tell me his name.

“Trystan.”

I narrow my eyes at him, it’s like he’s read my mind. I don’t like it. I don’t trust it.

I look at his hand extended in the little space between us and finally take it.

“Gabriel.”

“Pleasure to meet you, Gabriel.”

His voice is honey and I’m stupid enough to want nothing more than to hear my name on his lips again. I simply nod in response and turn back to the mirror across the bar.

Anything to distract myself and avoid him.

“What brings you out here tonight?” he asks.

I can’t help but chuckle. “That line ever work for you?”

His laugh is bright and genuine as he answers, “It’s not a line. I am simply trying to start up a conversation with the gorgeous, albeit brooding, man at the bar, who is drinking alone.”

“That line ever work for you?” I grin

“You tell me.”

I turn back to him and take my time looking him over, deciding whether he’s worth the time or effort.

Sharply dressed, even for a bar, even for a New York bar. Expensive, tailored suit. Manicured nails. Hands that have probably never seen a days hard labor. A ring with a snake on it. Gold, large, expensive. Sculpted brows and neatly trimmed facial hair. Product in his hair and cologne that undoubtedly costs more than my month’s rent.

Maybe worth it for some fun but definitely not for the heartache that will inevitably come from messing with the likes of him.

Nope. No way. This would be a disaster before it even started.

“Tempting, but I don’t mess with,” I pause and look him over again, “with…,” I trail off unsure how to put ‘rich snobs’ nicely.

“With what?”

“With whatever you are,” I gesture at him.

“And what am I? Beyond the given.”

“And what’s the given?” I’m stupid enough to ask.

“A mysterious and handsome stranger that came to your rescue,” he winks.

I chuckle and shake my head. “You’re not my type. I don’t go for rich flirts.”

“Rich flirt?” his laugh rings out across even the din of the pub. “What makes you think I’m that?”

“Your suit and overall appearance tell me you are wealthy. Money has never been an issue for you. More than likely, you have more than you know what to do with. Your smiles, winks, and overall demeanor with everyone in here tells me you are a serial flirt. Too smooth and confident in how good looking you are. Those looks have seen you through life, and I’d wager, into plenty of beds.”

I watch as his smile grows with each of my words. Not what I was expecting, but I stand by my evaluation and my resolve to not let him flirt his way into anything with me.

“Should I continue?” I ask to distract myself from getting lost in the brilliance of that smile.

“Please do,” he laughs. “But only over dinner.”

He stands and holds his hand out to me.

“I don’t think so,” I say as I swallow the last of my stolen drink. “But thanks.”

“You are really going to let me dine alone? I have a table over there and a date that didn’t show up. Join me and tell me about all my other faults while I convince you I could be exactly your type.”

“Or my next mistake,” I say.

“Maybe,” he shrugs with a grin. “But, either way, I’m bound to be way more thrilling than sitting alone.”

“Fine,” I sigh as I stupidly let myself be talked out of all reason and into whatever brand of madness he is.

——————————

All Choices Tag: @storyofmychoices @peonierose @aallotarenunelma @inlocusmads

Other Tags: @choicesbookclub

[honeyhenry]

traitor - b.b (part 5)

part 1 / part 2 / part 3 / part 4

A/N: oooo one more part to goooo and perhaps an epilogue! this one took me ages and i am so sorry but i hope it makes up for it! also i tried to check and edit it but its literally 1am soooo any mistakes are also mine lol

Faint bruises. Tangled hair. He has nothing to lose.

‘You have no idea how much I wish he was mine too’

Bucky tenses, aware of the tiny grip still clutching onto his hand, now fiercely protective of the wide eyed baby he has loved so fully since he first knew of them.

‘You shouldn’t be here, Steve’

He doesn’t need a long winded explanation from the man who is in competition for this child’s parentage. But as his friend, a reminder of what the Captain once meant to Bucky, he owes Steve at least the chance to provide an answer as to what the fuck has been going on behind his back.

However, Bucky’s thoughts don’t always line up with the words that end up leaving his mouth, and he starts rambling on, finding that he is only so emotional and angry when his family are involved.

‘Have you come to gloat about it then? Was cheating on your own wife with mine not enough?! Could you not have knocked up your own wife and saved all this bullshit?’

Steve’s heart plunges as he takes a seat on the rocking chair - noting its similarity to the one he had planned on building last year in his own house, next to his own room, for his child.

‘I-I did.”

“What? You sayin’ you did sleep with my wife you damn punk?!”

“No!” he cries, just as Bucky heads towards Steve, his metal hand curled into a fist so tight that he’s glad the baby can’t see over the edge of the crib to view the man he recognised as safe become the dangerous weapon he had hoped had vanished without a trace.

“I did...I did get my own wife pregnant, I did. We were…she, she was due a month before y/n was.’

Steve doesn't have to say what happened or “she lost it” for Bucky to understand. He’s glad Steve doesn't have to.

The Captain swallows back the heavy emotion caught in his throat, choking out the rest of his sentence as if he was struggling to breathe; ‘Our baby sweetpea. God, nothing can compare to that love you feel, you know? When you find out after trying and getting a nursery set up and nicknames and just thinking of everything they could someday be. We were so excited, and then to hear that y/n was due the month after us and- and everything was meant to be okay.’

Bucky remembers throwing each and every punch at this broken shell of a man only days ago, who was crumbling before him once more, but this time purely in an emotional sense, not physical, as the strong barrier he’d put up to protect himself and his wife was being demolished bit by bit at each passing second of his confession.

‘Steve..fuck Steve I never in-’ he tries to speak but he stops. It wouldn’t do any good. He can’t bring the Rogers’ baby sweetpea back. And nothing will.

‘Buck, I need you to understand that your son is not mine. I spent the two days before leaving for the mission with my own wife. Nothing happened I swear, i didnt even see y/n. We’re just trying to piece everything back together but its been a year and...I don’t think its gonna happen for us.’ He sobers up, sniffing after the slow fall of tears tracing down his face come to a halt.

Bucky knows he’s been a real punk, an asshole, deserving of a good beating himself. He should’ve been there helping his friend get through such hard times, not beating him up over false accusations. 

“Steve, don’t say that. Sometimes it can just take a little while. I’m always around to talk. End of the line, et cetera.”

He pats his friend on the back as they embrace in a tender hug. A silent promise to each other that there’ll be no further miscommunication or bitter, unsaid words.

The two men peer over the crib, and Bucky smiles sadly at the blue eyed beauty resting there. It was a comfortable silence, gazing at his namesake, until Steve piped up with a chuckle.

‘He’s gonna have your hair y’know. Your ma always showed me pictures back in the day and you were blonde before you were even walkin’.” Bucky grins, remembering the pictures laden on the windowsill of his childhood home, showcasing a happy toddler James. The normalcy of the moment is comforting. “And he has your hands” Steve continues,”He’s a sturdy little guy, he’s gonna be so much fun, Buck. He's already big for his age, too.”

Bucky can quickly understand why Steve is so knowledgeable on this topic, and how he can so easily reassure him, realising that for 2 sweet months, Steve had thrown himself into the role of ‘daddy’ to his own unborn child. The Sergeant goes to apologise again, still barely able to understand his pain but fully aware that his best friend did not deserve this.

“Steve, I can’t even begin to describe to you how sorry I am, from the bottom of my heart...I trust you, I do. I just- JJ is my weakness. I can’t lose him, or y/n. He’s our little piece of heaven.”

The father moves to wrap his hands under the armpits of his baby, picking up the round cuddly boy who coos and kicks his fat little legs. He rests happily in Bucky’s arms, knowing he is safe, surrounded by love, and at home. He rests a hand on Bucky’s cheek and beams a sweet smile towards his Daddy.

“Hi buddy, yeah it’s daddy, daddy’s got you now, and look! Uncle Stevie is here!” He turns the sweet babe in his arms towards Steve, who smiles goofily, as Bucky plants a kiss on JJ’s cherubic cheek. They play around a little with JJ, the baby heartily laughing every time Bucky made him fake-punch Steve in the chest or face. After a while, as JJ settles against his father’s chest, revelling in the comfort Bucky provides, Steve quirks his head up, a question coming to mind that he hadn't thought to ask.

“Who even put that idea into your head anyways?”

“...Sam.”

“Buck...Sam?! You can’t have thought jack about anything that Sam has to say. He really is a bird brain sometimes, God, you really based this off of Sam, huh?”

Bucky blushes, hiding behind a soft, nervous chuckle. He really has no explanation or defence for what he did. All he knows is that he's got to resolve it.

“Steve can you take J? I’ve got a Momma to apologise to”

Bucky is quiet as he moves downstairs, leaving Steve to play contently with his Godson. He hopes he finds you soon, and he prays to God you will forgive him for the utter mess he has needlessly created.

"Y/n? Honey? Where are you?”

He checks the living room, the kitchen, the hallways. 

All to find no sign of you.

“Baby I’m getting scared here, if this is to get back at me then I’m sorry! I’m dying out here-”

He halts.

A single sob can be heard from the bathroom. It’s muffled but it means you’re here and you’re alive. Bucky has never felt so relieved.

“Y/N, doll please- are you alone in there? Babydoll please, let me apologise”

You take a few moments to compose yourself, and open the door. Bucky has never seen you look so small, with tear tracks dried down your cheeks from red puffy eyes.

But it’s what you say next that truly makes his heart feel like it’s been plunged into an icy cold river.

“I think it’s best you leave, James.”

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

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taglist: @joannaliceevans-fanficblog​ @katiew1973​ @thevelvetseries​ @multific​

[lovemychoices]

The Lost Prince - TRR/TRH AU [Liam x MC] Mini Series - Part 1

After being married for three years and unable to produce an heir. Liam gets an unexpected news that changes his & Riley’s life forever.

Genre : Romance, Drama

*THIS SERIES PRACTICALLY THROWS CANON OUT THE WINDOW* YEET!YEET!

Characters except my OCs belong to Pixelberry, I am just borrowing them

Word count : 1500++

Chapter Summary: Liam and Riley struggle to get an heir forcing Riley to go with plan C. Meanwhile Liam gets some life changing news that could change his life forever.

A/N : So I had this series kept in my draft for quite sometime and finally decided to post it. I might regret this later. This will be a 5-6 part mini series and is going to be a prequel for another series I have planned called Heirs : A prince of Cordonia. I did not check for edits so forgive me for any grammatical mistakes.

Warning : Mentions of infertility and some pregnancy complications, that might be sensitive to some readers.

Riley nervously taps her feet on the carpet floor of the SUV while fidgeting with the fingernails, she was trying her best not to bite on them a habit she developed as a child whenever she felt nervous or uneasy. They were on their way to meet the OB-GYN for what felt like the hundredth time. Riley and Liam have been married for two years and were unsuccessful in producing an heir, something that they were being put under pressure for ever since they were married.

They tried the natural way during their first year of marriage when that didn’t work they opted for other options like IVF and IUI even some traditional methods but nothing worked. “Everything will be alright love.” Liam takes her hand assuring her. “Liam, I can’t go through with this again. What if it’s a false alarm again? What if I’m not pregnant.”

Liam wraps his arms around her shoulders, pulling her closer. “Then we try again, there are some couples who try ten year before they are able to conceive.”

“But we’re not like other couples, we don’t have time. The longer Cordonia doesn’t have an heir the more dangerous it will be for the monarchy. What if something bad happens?”

“Hey look at me Riley.” He tilted her chin with his fingers so she’s looking at him. “I will never let anything bad happen to us. Whatever it takes, remember?” Riley gives a grateful nod and leaned her head on Liam's shoulder. When they reached the doctor's office, the were both heartbroken to hear that their IVF treatment was yet again not successful.

At that point Riley had already felt like giving up and was considering a third option. “I think we should move to plan C.” She said in a perpetually tired voice, her eyes downcast. Liam is about to say something but she holds up her hand and continues. “Before you say anything, Hana and I already have a few candidates lined up and by the looks of it they seem pretty promising.”

“Love, I don’t want to pressure you into doing something you don’t want to.”

“But that’s just it Liam, I want this. I am just so tired with all the failed attempts, I just can’t do this anymore. I want to have a family with you even if it means I’m not the one who’s going to be carry them myself. It will still be our child and that’s the only thing that matters to me.”

Riley's request took Liam by surprise, he knew how much the whole pregnancy experience meant to her. He gets up from his chair and walks to where Riley is seated, he takes her hand in his and kneels in front of her, his eyes gazing warmly into hers. “My love, you know all I want is your happiness. If this is what you want, what you really want then you have my full support.”

If she was being honest, surrogacy was the last thing she wanted. What if something went wrong? Like the surrogate going rouge and running away with their baby? There have been such cases. But she didn’t want to be selfish, she knew how much having an heir meant to Liam and while he could wait the council couldn’t nor could the media.

Riley gives a smile that didn’t quite reach her eyes. “I’ll have Madeleine set up an appointment for the candidates next week so the both of us can conduct the interview ourselves since we won’t have anything going on.”

Liam nods giving her a comforting squeeze. “I’ll be with you every step of the way.”

*************************

Liam sat in his office going through some documents that required his attention though his mind wasn’t really paying attention. Riley’s request kept ringing in his head, he wanted to make her happy and he would move heaven on earth for her. It’s not a big deal, a lot of people who can’t have a baby often go for surrogates.

He is suddenly pulled out of his thoughts by the sound of his office phone ringing and picks it up.

“Your majesty, there’s someone on line it’s someone calling from the states. She says it’s important, something about Maya Reinhart?”

“Maya Reinhart?” He mimicked, he only met one person with that name Maya and it was 6 years ago when Leo took him for an impromptu brothers bonding trip to LA.

6 years ago…

The sound of live music filled the air of the rooftop party in downtown Los Angeles. It was after Liam just graduated from college and Leo decided they should celebrate with their annual brothers trip.

“Look alive brother because tonight we're going to party out ass off.” Leo grinned patting Liam on the back. “Now take your pick, tonight we're are not two princes only a couple of two normal but still handsome young men looking for adventure.”

Liam shrugs. “And by adventure you mean a one night stand with someone?”

“Who said it was just the one?” Leo gave a mischievous grin, making Liam shake his head. “ Oh, if anyone asks what we do, just tell them we’re models or something. Now go have fun!” He eagerly pushed Liam into the crowd and heads the opposite direction toward the bar where a few ladies were seated and were ogling their eyes at him since they arrived.

Liam scanned the room taking in the lively atmosphere of the party, it was nothing like the balls they had back in Cordonia. There were no formalities or protocol they needed to follow, everyone could just have fun and let loose.

“Are you lost?” Liam whirled around and saw petite brunette with the most beautiful smile sitting by one of the L shaped couch next to the edge of the glass banister holding a book. But that wasn’t the only thing about her that caught his attention, what caught his attention was the colour of her eyes. One of it was blue while the other was half blue and half brown.

“Um.. No. I was actually looking for a place to sit. Do you mind?” He gestured to the empty space beside her. The woman gave a shrug before nodding and returned to read her book.

Liam sheepishly took a seat next to her. “So..why are you reading at a party?”

“Because I’m studying for the bar exam on Monday. I would rather stay at home but my housemate insisted I come, so here we are.” She said and closed her book, turning her attention towards Liam. “So what about you? Why are you doing at a place like this, clearly this must’ve been your first choice in your itinerary.”

“What gave you that impression?”

“Because you’re here talking to someone who’s reading a very boring textbook instead of enjoying himself sipping champagne by the table of supermodels over there.” She gestured to where Leo was standing.

“You’re right this wasn’t the first place I had in mind when I came to LA but I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t starting to enjoy myself.” He grinned then extended his hand. “I’m Liam by the way. Liam….” He paused when he remembered not to use his real last name. “Deveraux. Liam Deveraux.” She smiled and shook his hand. “Maya.”

“Only Maya?” He raised an eyebrow. “For now, if you can keep me interested until the end of the night I might just give you my last name.” She playfully winked which made him snort out a laugh. “So Liam, I assume from your accent that you’re not from the states. What brings you to this side of the pond?”

“I’m here on a modeling job with my brother.” He lied then pointed to where Leo was standing.“He’s the one standing by the bar talking to those women.”

“Why aren’t you joining him?” She looked at him curiously.

“Because I’m enjoying the company I have now.” He grinned. “By the way, you have really pretty eyes.”

Maya chuckled. “It’s called sectoral heterochromia. It’s sort of genetic but very uncommon in humans. My grandmother on my mother’s side had it. People normally stare at me weirdly when they first notice my eyes, like I’m some sort of alien or something.”

“Well I think it’s beautiful.” He smiled and her cheeks started to blush. As the night went on the two talked and drank, enjoying each others company. After four bottles later Liam finally worked up the courage to ask Maya to dance with him.

The two swayed rhythmically to the beat of the music with Maya’s back pressed in front of Liam, his hands moved along the silhouette of her body and his lips inches away from her neck. He spun her around to face him and capture her lips in a heated kiss ignoring the crowd around them. She pulled back letting out a soft giggle and gazed into his dark blue eyes, both smiling back.

After that, everything else went by quickly. Liam invited Maya to his suite for coffee but one thing lead to another and the next thing he knew they were both eagerly taking each others clothes off and having mind blowing sex. The next day he woke up and Maya was already gone, the only thing she left was a piece of note on the bed that said. Thanks for last night, Maya. Liam let out a sigh then plopped back onto his pillow and murmured. “She didn’t give me her last name.”

Present day….

“Put them on.” Liam said. “Hello am I talking to his majesty King Liam Rys or Cordonia?” The person asked it was a voice of a woman but it sounded nothing like Maya. “Yes this is he and please call me Liam, may I know who is on the line?”

“My name is Leah Sanchez, I am a friend of Maya’s.” She sputters. “I don’t even know if you even remember her…”

“Yes I remember Maya, we met that one time 6 years ago. What’s this call about? Did something happen to her is she alright?”

There was a short moment of silence before the woman said something. “Liam, Maya passed away a few weeks ago from ovarian cancer and I’m sorry for springing this information on you but there is something else you need to know. When she died she left behind a son. Liam, he is your son.

***************

I’m using tags from my other TRR Series and adding other’s that I think would be interested in this series. Do let me know if you want to stay on the list. if you would like to be added or removed.

TRR/TRH - @charliejane-blog @dcbbw @hopefulmoonobject @cmestrella @pixieferry @lodberg @traeumerinwitzhelden @romanticatheart-posts @gnatbrain @the-soot-sprite @texaskitten30 @ao719 @desiree-0816 @emceesynonymroll @jessiembruno @kinkykingliam @jlpplays1 @annekebbphotography @thecordoniandiaries @cora-nova @rainbowsinthestorm @jessiembruno @leelee10898 @client-327 @kingliam2019 @dangerouseggseagleartisan @zaffrenotes

[planetariumx]

A Stupid Love Story {Pt. 1/?}

Loki x reader (eventually)

Summary: After returning from a failed date, you find a certain god of mischief sitting on your couch. Oh and apparently he’s trying to play cupid. 

Warnings: um idk swearing? oops

A/N: so this is my first time posting my work on any form on social media so pls be kind (and also tips/constructive criticism would be much appreciated) idk if this is good, the idea is a little confusing but basically Loki is cupid (i know it sounds stupid im trying) anyway thanks for listening, enjoy my dudes

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You were coming home from yet another failed date. You can’t even remember his name, he was only interested in talking about his ex and by the end of the night he was calling her to see if she was available. The asshole even made you pay for the meal, he said he was going to the bathroom and then just left. 

You were so tired of this dating thing, everyone you met was either too self absorbed or completely disinterested in you. Walking up three flights of stairs to get to your apartment, the elevator was still broken, you were so tired that you didn’t even notice that the door was already unlocked and slightly open. 

Walking into your living room, your heart stopped. There on your couch, flipping through one of your books, was an infuriatingly handsome man with long black hair and striking blue-green eyes that seemed to glow in the darkness of the room. 

Slowly backing up towards the door, you kept your eyes locked on the strange man on your couch. When you were almost at the door, a bright streak of green light shot past you and the door slammed shut. Understandably terrified, you tried to scream but no sound came out. By now, the strange man had stood up from the couch and was slowly stalking towards you. You tried to move but it felt like your feet were fused to the floor. When he was right in front of you, he finally spoke.

“You are home considerably later than I was led to believe. You are probably confused as to who I am and why I am in your home at this hour. I will try to explain to the best of my ability but I do not have time to help a mere mortal try to understand the complex details and reasons for my being here.”

Moderately offended at this statement, you glared at the man. He ignored you and continued with his speech.

“My name is Loki, Prince of Asgard, rightful heir to the throne of Jotunheim. I am here because I am in danger of losing my job due to your lack of success in the romance department. You may speak now”

You remained silent, utterly confused by this information. This has to be a joke right?

“Is this some kind of joke? Who put you up to this and how the hell did you get in my apartment?” You spoke sternly, poking a finger at his chest. 

The man Loki let out a long sigh before turning around to sit back down on the couch. 

“I will repeat myself only once so it would be in your best interest to pay attention, mortal.”

“Stop calling me that.”

“What? Mortal? You are a human are you not?”

“Well yes but I don’t go around calling people ‘mortal’, it’s kinda condescending and rude. Should I call you ‘weird man who showed up on my couch at nine o'clock at night?’”

Ignoring your comment, Loki continued.

“I am from Asgard, you have heard of that yes?”

“I’m not stupid. We learned about stuff like that in school, but it’s all a bunch of stories and myths. Now tell me who you really are or I’m calling the cops.”

“That would not be wise on your part, mortal.” You scowled at his continued use of the name. “As I was saying, I am from Asgard, it is very real despite what you may have previously believed. Many of Asgard’s people have duties to fulfill to help the humans of Midgard.” Seeing your confused look, he rephrased “Earth. I have been given the duty of helping mortals find a partner when they cannot do so on their own.”

“You don’t seem like the right person for the job, full offense intended.” You muttered the last part under your breath but he seems to have heard you anyway. 

“I have not always been burdened with this trivial job, I am capable of handling much more important matters but I suppose I am being punished for past mistakes.”

“What did you do?”

“Do you not recognize me? I was sure you were at least smart enough for that.”

Looking at him now you tried to find any connection in your brain that would tell you why he would assume that you knew who he was. And then it hit you. The attack on New York! How could you have forgotten about that? To be fair, you had been doing some traveling to get away from it all after a particularly nasty breakup at the time and there wasn’t much contact to the rest of the world in some of the places you visited. 

“I wasn’t in New York at the time, but yes I know who you are now” you said quietly. 

“Good. Now that the formalities are out of the way-”

“You didn’t ask me for my name”

“I already know your name mort-”

“Then how about you actually use it instead of calling me ‘mortal’ all the time!” You snapped

“We need to discuss business now. Odin will no doubt be very angry if I cannot complete my task so I am here to make sure that you don’t ruin it for me.”

“Hey it’s not my fault that I can’t find someone, maybe you need to try harder! Everyone I’ve been on a date with has been a complete asshole!” You shouted at him.

Loki just sighed, rubbing his temples. “I am not happy with the situation either but I would appreciate if you would be quieter, your voice is incredibly annoying and it is giving me a headache.”

“Well gee thanks! You really know how to make a girl feel special!” You said sarcastically.  “Look, I’m tired from yet another stupid date, thanks to you, so I’m going to bed. You can go back to whatever non existent magical space palace you came from because I’m sure this is just a weird hallucination that my sleep deprived brain came up with. You better not be here when I wake up.” And with that you kicked off your shoes and stomped down the hallway to your room, slamming the door behind you. You were too tired to even change your clothes, opting to just crawl into bed in the dress you wore on your date. The minute your head hit the pillow, you were out.

(that’s all for this part, I’ve got 2 more done and I’m just making some edits idk when I’ll post them. Keep in mind that I’m new to this so please forgive any mistakes. Likes and reblogs/comments are much appreciated! ♥️)

Part 2

[stanislovers]

So I understand something happened with the group that usually posts Saezuru’s translation in english.

Since it’s been 84 years and a new chapter is dropping this month, I translated in english from this spanish version for all to enjoy (well, mostly for me to enjoy lol).

All credit goes to:

For raws, cleaning and editing: SofiGB (sofigb.livejournal.com)

For translating from japanese: Kazu

Disclaimer: I’m not a spanish nor english native speaker, so forgive me for any mistakes.

1

I had no intention --

--of ever seeing him again.

2

We didn't came here to kill you.

If you tell us where your brother is,

we'll let you go.

But I already told you... I haven't seen him in more than a year.

Why did you try to run away then?

Anyone would do that if someone like you is looking for them.

I don't believe you!

3

Hey, calm down.

What?!

Remember who you're dealing with.

If you're yakuza you can't harm a civilian.

Ahhhhh?

Can you not interrupt?

This doesn’t concern you.

What did you say, idiot?

Nobody asked for your opinion. You're annoying.

Who are you and where do you even come from?

4

He's Nanahara, from the Shinseikai group.

You know that's a thing of the past, Doumeki.

Could you please stop excluding me and speaking between you in code?

5

It drives me crazy!

Hey!

Truthfully... I don't know..

Hey, you. Who are you?

What?

Your name. What's your name?

...Kamiya.

Bring that guy over here, Kamiya.

6

You must know something. Spit it out immediately.

So? Are you ready to talk yet or not?

He's worse than I am.

Boss, stop. He's a civilian...

Don't just stand there and look, Nanahara. Help me.

Fi--Fine.

7

I'll do it.

Thank you for offering, but--

I'm going... to talk...please... stop...

There you go.

8

I really don't know where my brother is but... recently I saw him and he started talking about a job that could make him a lot of money.

Well, he would always say things like that.

Did he give you more details regarding this job?

No, he didn't tell me anything more than that...

Just that this time there were dangerous people involved. He wasn't talking about you, was he?

He wasn't referring to us, we just lent him some money.

9

Our situation is similar.

Now that I think about it, I read in the paper --

That a member of the Sakuraikka group was run down and that the suspect fled.

The yakuza only acts when money or questions of honor are involved, isn't right?

But if Kido was working for a group, things are different, right?

Yes, that would complicate things.

10

Give me your phone.

W-why?

Call your brother and make him talk.

Surely he'll be cautious but gather all the information you can.

Hi, it's me.

Can you talk?

Yes, what's going on?

I need to ask you something.

Can we meet in person?

Now?

Yes. Are you at home?

No, i'm not home.

For a while, I can't go back there.

For a while?

Are you in some kind of trouble?

11   

No, no it's not that.

Sorry, I'll have to call you some other time.

Wait. Don't hang up.

What is it?

Well... I need money.

If i don't get it soon, I'm going to be in trouble.

...

How much do you need?

Five-hundred.

Is that all?

Well, it doesn’t matter, it will be ready tomorrow.

Ok. You saved me, Thank you.

I'll let you know where to meet.

12

You still haven't answered the question i asked you a while ago--

But, since the circumstances have changed, I need to inform my boss.

A while ago?

When I asked you what should we do-

Ahh.

I’ll do that.

It's clear that you are old acquaintances and surely you have a lot to talk about.

13

It's been four years...

I would have never imagined that you would've been part of the Sakuraikka group.

No, wait, before that...

What are you even doing, still being in the Yakuza in the first place?

Are you stupid?

With that face you're condemned to continue in this world.

14

I am the one who decides for myself how to live and what to be.

My time and my body are my own.

Also, even before the scars, you were the one who cut off my finger.

So "they're your own", uh.

Seems right to me.

15

Another thing...

Did you know--

That I was looking for Kido?

I found out yesterday when I was walking by the pet store.

I see...

That's enough! Who the fuck are you? You're annoying me!

And you, Doumeki, explain now.

Uhmm? Why don't you introduce yourself first?

I'm Kamiya, from the Sakuraikka group.

Ah, goody. I'm glad.

Son of a bitch...

16

Surely it must be difficult for you working with someone like him, he's like a statue.

It's clear as day that he doesn't listen to you.

I'm just a casino manager.

He used to work for me a long time ago. That's all.

He was completely useless--

But he's strong, so I guess you're using him for that.

That's a mean thing to say...

17

So, you do remember me...

Kashira.

Oh!

18

...It just came back to me.

19

I had completely forgotten about you until today, but as soon as I saw your sad face I remembered.

And another thing.

Don't call me kashira.

Right now I am not part of any group---

and I'm not your kashira.

Understood.

20

Well. I can go now, right? I’ll inform you as soon as my brother calls me.

Right, he’s still here.

No, you’re coming with us.

But before that, you are Yashiro from the Shinseikai group, isn’t it right?

Can you come to our group’s headquarters?

What?

I’m not trying to be disrespectful or anything like that. It’s just that I know that--

--the money you make goes directly to the Doushinkai group.

I know that because my boss plays golf with the president of your group.

So, the second in command of the already dissolved Shinseikai…

You know him? What do we do with him?

I don’t know if his goal is to merely recuperate the money he lent…

You find out that money it’s involved in all of this?

Just as I thought. You’ve got a good eye.

21

I learned that he’s Misumi’s favorite. And what’s more, he used to be Doumekì’s boss.

I want to meet him. Bring him to me.

If we’re going to work together, it’s best if we decide in advance how much money goes to each group.

For this reason, my boss asked me to bring you with us.

Boss, what are we going to do?

It’s not a problem.

Whatever his plans are, we have no reason to deny him.

Great. Thank you for not making a fuss.

22

Hey. If something happens, you’re going to pay, do you understand?

What? What are you saying?

Do you even know who you’re talking to?

I have no idea. Who the fuck are you?

Kamiya, I already told you. Learn it once and for all.

I can see you have no manners, idiot.

Enough, Nanahara. Let��s go.

So he used to be your...

24

Argh! He pisses me off!

This Doumeki…

What happened to him? He became insolent.

Since when does he have this attitude?

He can’t talk to you like that…

He seemed fine to me.

It means he matured.

It’s annoying to me.

And I was convinced that he had left the Yakuza by now…

Nanahara.

25

Calm down a little.