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skyward-floored · 7 months

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Whumptober Day 10: Aftermath of failure

Continuation to day 4! (...finally. This is so late)

Soooo this was actually originally split into two days, and it kinda shows. But I didn’t want to have to keep stretching this out, and decided putting them together was okay, even if they don’t fit together perfectly.

Enjoy your extra angst hehe—

Day 4

Read on ao3

Warnings: blood, mentions of injuries, a panic attack, and brief mention of vomit.

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Legend was asleep.

Warriors repeated it to himself like a mantra, watching as Hyrule crouched over the veteran and finished bandaging his middle. He knew Legend was asleep because Hyrule wasn’t acting panicked at all, and he could see his chest going up and down even from here.

He was breathing. He was asleep.

Something buzzed in his ear, same as it had on and off for a while now, but Warriors couldn’t make it out. He was pretty sure it was Sky trying to talk to him, the same as he’d been for a while, but he couldn’t focus on what he was saying, couldn’t take his eyes off of where Legend was laying in the grass.

His chest was still going up and down. He was asleep, unconscious maybe, due to shock. But he was breathing, eyes closed, face twisted slightly in pain with his bangs falling over his face. Hyrule was still bandaging his middle, and he’d pulled his bloodstained tunic out of the—

Warriors’ breath stuttered, and his gaze flicked to the blood coating his hands.

Legend’s blood.

Legend’s blood that he’d spilled.

Legend’s blood that his sword had ripped out of him after he’d plunged it into his chest, all because he wasn’t strong enough to resist whatever magic had attacked him, and made him think Legend had betrayed them all.

“Please, I’m not your enemy!”

Warriors felt his breath catch again, swallowing thickly. The memories were still blurry of what exactly he’d done, but he remembered in stark detail Legend’s chest under his foot, his eyes blown wide with an unusual fear as he’d practically begged him to wake up, his scream when he’d stabbed—

“Link, hey.”

Hands clutched at his wrists, trying to get a reaction out of him, the skin cold against his own. Warriors stared at them blankly, palms streaked with faint burns and cuts, and watched as some of Legend’s blood dripped off his fingers and onto his tunic, joining the crimson that was already coated all over his front.

He lurched over and retched.

The hands let go of his wrists, and gently grabbed his shoulder instead, waiting until he was finished. An overwhelming swell of horror and regret swamped over him as he stopped, and Warriors could barely breath, his scarf feeling like it was constricting him.

He’d almost killed Legend. He’d almost killed a fellow hero, a brother, all because of a spell he was too weak to resist.

“Captain, take a deep breath, please.”

Warriors tried, managing a shaking gasp, and what he finally recognized as Sky’s voice tried to get him to take in another. A sting of embarrassment leaked through the horror as Sky gently spoke, and Warriors felt his fingernails bite into his palm as he clenched his fist.

He needed to calm down. He was better than this, he knew how to be calm in situations like this, he’d been trained how to calm down, he needed to remember his training—

Your training that nearly killed Legend.

Warriors heaved in another breath, frantically trying to get himself to calm down. He couldn’t think about it. He just needed to focus on something else.

The hand was still on his shoulder, and Warriors focused only on that, on the small circles it was rubbing, the gentle motions of the fingers going back and forth. He kept his mind firmly from anything else that had or was happening, and eventually managed to pull his breathing under control, taking slower breaths as he calmed his heart.

After a long time, he slowly raised his head and looked at Sky’s face.

The other knight’s face was pale, making the usual eye bags he had stick out even more sharply under his eyes. A bit of blood was drying in his hair, and his lip was split, blood trickling down his chin, but more obvious than any injury was the haunted look in his eyes.

But somehow he still managed to dredge up a smile to send at Warriors.

“Hey Captain,” he said in a soft voice, and Warriors stared at him blankly. “You back with me?”

Warriors’ breath hitched again.

“I almost killed him,” he rasped, the horror starting to trickle back through the temporary wall he’d put up.

Sky’s smile faded, and Warriors swallowed, his throat stinging with bile. He hadn’t meant to say that.

Sky hesitated, and looked like he was trying to think of something to say, and Warriors felt another overwhelming swell of panic and horror overwhelm him, crashing over him like a tsunami.

“Gods Sky,” he choked out, his breath catching in his lungs, “I nearly killed him, I stabbed Legend Sky, he’s only a kid I—”

Sky clutched at his hands again, and Warriors looked at Legend’s blood still drying on his palms.

“You— we, weren’t ourselves,” Sky said in a voice only slightly more steady than Warriors’, sounding like he was forcing his voice not to break. “It was the wizzrobe. We can’t... we can’t take the blame here Wars, it’ll... it’ll tear us apart.”

Warriors let out a truly bitter laugh, and didn’t reply. It already is.

“Link,” Sky continued, his voice agonized. “Don’t—”

“I thought he was one of them Sky,” Warriors interrupted, voice shaking. “A traitor. Someone who’d gone against everything I stand for, kidnapped Zelda or— or something, I can’t even remember, but I thought he was one of them Sky, I—”

His voice cracked, and he closed his eyes, shaking his head.

I’m the traitor.

The irony wasn’t lost on him.

Sky stayed silent, and Warriors felt bile rise in his throat again as his eyes flicked to the bloodstained grass Legend was lying in, but he swallowed it back, staring down at his hands. Sky’s own were still clasped at his wrists, and Warriors realized his were the ones with the burns and cuts on them, red and painful looking.

“You’re hurt,” he said numbly, and Sky shrugged a little, turning his hands so the burns were harder to see.

“Not too badly. Fi was only helping, and Wind’s a better brawler than I am.” He rubbed his jaw, a softer expression crossing his face. “He can sure hit hard for having such small fists.”

Warriors felt a flicker of pride towards Wind, but the warmth from the emotion didn’t last long. The others really had fought their hardest to keep them all away from Legend.

Look how that turned out.

He breathed out heavily, feeling less panicked and more wrung out all of a sudden, and Warriors raised his head and looked around at their group.

Wind was sitting next to Four and helping him wrap a bandage around his side, the smithy’s tunic bloody and torn. Wind himself had a black eye, and a small cut on his cheek, with half-dried blood staining his chin as well. He was holding a bottle and trying to get Four to take it, but the smithy kept shaking his head and pushing it back towards him.

Hyrule had finished with Legend, and was talking to Time, though Hyrule was pointedly positioned between the downed veteran and the older hero. Both of them were sporting multiple injuries, but before Warriors could study them further, a choked noise made him startle.

He and Sky both turned to look, and saw Wild curled in on himself at the base of a nearby tree, his head in his hands and his forearm bleeding. Twilight was kneeled next to him, talking in quiet tones, and Wild muffled a keening noise in his hands, curling up tighter.

Warriors looked away from Wild, but found himself scanning all of Twilight’s injuries, remembering in an almost detached way that he’d been the one to inflict most of them.

“Keep them away from Legend!”

His gaze went back to the veteran against his will, and he stared in silence at his chest, bandages going steadily up and down, the same as earlier. His face was pale, but Hyrule must have cleaned the blood from it as it was clean, and Legend’s expression had eased a little further.

Warriors swallowed, watching him. Legend looked so small from over here, pale and bloodstained. He may have claimed the title of veteran, but he truly was still a kid, younger then when Warriors had joined the army.

How old was he when he had started saving people?

Warriors jumped at a sudden hand in his face, and he almost fell backwards before he realized it was Sky, holding a cloth in his hand.

“You’re still bleeding,” he apologized quietly, and Warriors hesitated, then nodded, closing his eyes as Sky began to clean the blood off his forehead and cheek. He normally disliked anyone touching his face, but Sky was gentle, and Warriors stayed still as he worked, blinking his eyes against the sudden sting in them.

“Wars wake up! You’d never hurt any of us!”

“It wasn’t you, Captain. It wasn’t your fault,” Sky whispered as he continued, and Warriors couldn’t look him in the eye.

Maybe he was right. Maybe not.

But either way, Legend’s screams wouldn’t be fading from his mind anytime soon.

And he would never forgive himself for hurting him that way.

Warriors looked down at his hands one more time, the smell of blood still sharp in his nose, and Sky continued to clean off his face, hand faintly trembling.

If blood didn’t end up being the only liquid that was wiped from his cheek, then Sky didn’t comment on it.

(...)

It was dark when Legend finally woke up.

He blinked his eyes open, lids feeling unusually heavy as he stared up at the night sky, but he found himself having trouble remembering what had happened before he fell asleep. He felt tired, and heavy, and for some reason there was a heavy feeling of wrongness settled around him. But...

Legend frowned, and turned his head to look around camp.

It was mostly dark and quiet, a campfire providing a bit of warmth and light. Legend blinked his eyes open a little further, and looked around at the others, the sense of wrongness only growing stronger.

Hyrule was tucked beside him, dead asleep with his arm resting on top of Legend’s. He looked exhausted, and his face held a deep frown, his other hand held near his sword. Wind was next to him, and Four stretched out nearby, the smithy sporting several bandages at his side.

On the opposite side of the clearing, Wild was curled into a tight ball under his blanket, barely visible, and Sky was next to him, his face tightly pinched in his sleep. Wolfie sat close by, but was surprisingly far away from Wild, and seemed rather on edge.

Time sat closest to the fire, and Legend couldn’t help but stare at how the older hero was holding Warriors’ shoulders, their foreheads nearly touching as he talked to him in a low voice.

He couldn’t make out the words, but they sounded urgent.

Legend blinked, feeling dizzy and a bit cold, and he tried to sit up, gasping in surprise as the pain he hadn’t even noticed in his middle spiked. Memories came flooding back as he looked down at his bandaged chest, and his breath hitched as Warriors and Time both turned and looked at him, their eyes shining in the firelight.

For a moment, all he could see was armor glinting in the sun, blank eyes focused on him in a glare, a sword raised to stab him through—

You killed the wizzrobe, he reminded himself as his breath caught, they’re not your enemies, they won’t turn on you, they won’t...

Twilight seemed to notice his distress, and he quickly hopped up and padded to his side, using his big head to gently push him back to lying down.

“I’m fine you big lug,” Legend said in a voice that ended up more shaky then he would have preferred, but Twilight ignored him, twitching his tail once, then settled himself on the opposite side of him from where Hyrule was.

Legend exhaled, and ran a hand through the wolf’s thick fur, unable to stop himself from still watching Time and Warriors. Looking at them without their armor on made it easier to separate them from the memories he had of them from earlier, but...

“Traitor to the crown!”

Not entirely.

Time noticed him staring, and met his eyes, looking at him with something that Legend wasn’t sure how to decipher. The older hero turned and said something to Warriors, but the captain looked away, and Time slowly got to his feet, approaching Legend.

He felt himself tense as Time drew near, but Twilight stayed firmly by his side, and the presence of the large wolf helped greatly with keeping him steady. Twilight won’t let him attack.

...not that he will, because the spell is broken, remember?

“How are you doing, Veteran?” Time asked softly as he reached him, sitting far enough away to not make Legend too uncomfortable.

“Fine.”

Time raised an eyebrow at the response, but didn’t push, offering him a water skin. Legend realized then he was rather parched, and slowly sat up again, reaching out to take it. He winced as a flicker of pain struck through his middle, but at Time’s worried look, firmly took the water skin as if daring him to argue.

“I’m alright,” Legend repeated, and took a long draught of water. It was cold as it went down his throat, but the relief was worth it. “How’s everyone else?”

Time sighed, heavy and tired. “About as well as you’d expect. Four was the worst off besides yourself, and Warriors and Twilight were both hurt more then they realized. But nobody’s in danger.”

Legend swallowed. Are they though?

It was silent between them for a minute while Legend finished drinking, shivering slightly as he finished. He could tell he had lost a lot of blood. That was something even Hyrule couldn’t fix, and he would have to just rest and regain it naturally.

Pretty annoying though, he grumbled, tugging his blanket tighter around his shoulders. He hated how cold he always felt after losing a bunch of blood.

The memory of being stabbed flickered in his memory, and his eyes slid over to Warriors, the captain staring blankly at the fire. He wondered how much he remembered of what had happened. The captain had seemed dazed after... everything, and while he’d obviously realized what he’d done, that didn’t really mean he truly remembered.

I hope he doesn’t remember a thing.

“Legend... do you know what that wizzrobe did?” Time asked quietly, and Legend felt a chill go up his spine. “Hyrule mentioned you freezing up, has this... spell, happened before?”

Do we need to be prepared for it to happen again? was the unspoken question.

Legend bit his lip. Hyrule knew why he had frozen up— he’d told him one time after finding a wanted sign with Legend’s face on it— but he’d obviously not elaborated on why to the others.

“I think... it reactivated an old spell through me somehow,” Legend murmured, drawing his blanket closer. “On... on my first quest, there was a sorcerer, a servant of Ganon, who took over the castle. He brainwashed all the soldiers and knights, and they thought I was the enemy for a long time.”

He swallowed.

“But I... I guess the wizzrobe hit me first, and it affected you all, because... you’re knights.”

Understanding dawned on Time’s face, and he leaned back, putting a hand on his chin. “My knighthood is only a title, I haven’t done much to deserve it,” he murmured, brows lowered. “But the spell didn’t differentiate regardless...”

He met Legend’s gaze again, and the veteran startled at the remorse all over his face.

“I’m so sorry Veteran.”

Legend shook his head, and looked down at the bandages covering most of his chest.

“It wasn’t your fault,” he whispered. “The wizzrobe did it. It was infected... that must have granted it extra magic ability.”

Twilight shifted a little closer to him, and Legend ran his hand through his fur again, calming himself down with the motions. Time was silent for a while, watching his hand card along, then sighed, and got to his feet.

Legend flinched in spite of himself.

“I think the captain needs to hear that,” Time finally replied, his voice quiet. “Is it okay if he comes over here?”

No, no it’s not, his mind immediately screamed, glaring eyes and cold words flashing through his mind, a blade stabbing deep through his chest as he choked on his own blood and Warriors’ horrified gaze as he stared at his hands—

“Yeah,” he said in a voice that was much too casual.

Time and Twilight both gave him a look, but didn’t do anything further then that, and Time nodded and moved away.

Legend didn’t watch him reach Warriors, or talk to try and convince him to come over to where Legend was sitting, keeping his eyes firmly on his lap, or Wolfie’s soft fur. Not until a set of footsteps approached again did Legend flick his eyes up, and he felt his heart freeze as Warriors looked down at him.

Suddenly it was earlier again, and Warriors’ face had become a smooth glare, his sword plunging downwards into his chest, and Legend couldn’t breathe through the blood, his vision going dark—

“This— this was a bad idea,” Warriors said, stumbling over his words as Legend tried to get ahold of himself. “I don’t—”

“Stay,” Legend finally managed to get out, determined to beat this. And despite his instincts begging him to just leave, to run, to get away, he looked up and met Warriors’ eyes. “Please.”

Warriors swallowed, and Time’s hand landed on his shoulder, nearly pushing the captain down to sit next to Legend. He was a bit closer than Legend would have preferred, but he swallowed back the fear and distrust that were still trying to choke him, and stayed where he was.

Time looked between them, then left, far away enough to give them privacy, but close enough to help if there was a problem.

Which Warriors was obviously afraid there would be.

Twilight stayed where he was, silent and still, and Legend kept running his hand through his fur, wondering a bit at the fact that he was letting him pet him so much. But mostly he was just glad for the grounding feel of the fur between his fingers.

The silence between him and Warriors stretched on, and Legend avoided looking at him, still staring at his lap. He was afraid he would see those same blank eyes again if he looked up, and he didn’t move, didn’t say anything.

“Legend, I...” Warriors finally began, but his voice cracked, and he shook his head, staring at the ground.

The silence came back with a vengeance, and Legend hesitated, his stomach hurting with more than just his injury. He firmly gathered his courage, and finally looked over at Warriors, and was shocked to see a tear slip down his cheek.

Twilight quietly whined, and Warriors let out a laugh that was really more of a sob.

“I betrayed you, Legend,” he managed to continue, voice more broken then Legend had ever heard it. “I shouldn’t even be over here in case— in case it happens again. I can’t be trusted, I... I nearly killed you, and there aren’t enough words in the world to convey how sorry—”

Legend swallowed, and before he could scare himself out of doing it, leaned forward and pressed his head against Warriors’ chest.

The captain made a choked noise, and Legend squeezed his eyes shut.

“It wasn’t you,” he said, not bothering to hide the tremble in his voice. “It was the wizzrobe Captain, it was a spell, an infected one, I know— I know you would never hurt any of us.”

Horribly enough, Legend felt his eyes begin to sting, but he forced the tears back, and stayed with his head pressed to Warriors’ chest, listening to him try not to cry either.

“Nobody could have resisted that,” Legend choked out, firmly blaming the sudden crash of emotions on his exhausted physical state. “Nobody. So don’t— don't. Don’t blame y-yourself.”

Something shakily rested on his back after a minute, and Legend realized it was Warriors’ arm, eventually joined by the other. Part of him wanted to break away from the contact, his mind screaming that he couldn’t trust the arms encircling him. But the part that was fighting so hard to pound it into Warriors’ head that it wasn’t his fault hung on, and enjoyed the contact, as awkward and messy as it was.

He knew it was just as hard for Warriors to be this close to him as it was for Legend to be near him, and he firmly ignored every memory of blood and swords and screaming, and focused on breathing, his brother’s arms around him.

Not threatening. Not wielding a sword.

Safe.

Twilight moved himself a little closer to the both of them, so that his fur wasn’t just pressed to Legend’s side, and Warriors let out another unsteady breath, trembling slightly.

It would take more time then this to patch back what had fractured, for all of them, but this...

Legend fought back a sob, and felt Warriors’ grip hesitate, then tighten.

This was a good start.

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miinteaa · 7 months

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Inktober day 11- Wander

#my art #howls moving castle #howl jenkins pendragon #howell jenkins #forget the fact that I skipped inktober days one through 10 #also is it cheating if it’s not actually ink #also to slightly explain the prompt #in the book howl is some guy from wales who left to pursue magic so he’s kinda wandering away from his old home and life #technically it fits the prompt #so there.

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constantvariations · 10 months

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Why did they create such a useless character to show Cinder's backstory when Salem is literally right there AND the real question the audience wants answered???

Imagine if it had been Salem who stayed at the hotel and saw something of herself in the scrappy servant girl. She saw how the Madame treated little Cinder and offered a way out only if Cinder has the power to be useful to her. Maybe she put Cinder to a test of how far she was willing to go for freedom, or maybe Salem wanted something from the Madame that she wouldn't give so it was up to Cinder to provide

Either way, Salem gets a young disciple that's ruthlessly ambitious and easy to manipulate and Cinder gains the illusion of freedom under a new master

#rwde #ofc salem wouldnt be grimmified in this version bc she'd stand out too much to do under the table shit #or she still could be but the world actually looks like an anime like it did in the beacon days #v4 on is far too grounded in reality design-wise #where the hell are the folks w wild ass hair colors and styles?? the most we get is joannas green but she says like 10 words so who cares #tis some bullshit and why i refuse to call v4+ rwby an anime #anyway this was somehow prompted by me comparing vergil to cinderella #as you can see i am Completely Normal tm #ngl tho vergil is a better cinderella if instead of riches-rags-riches its power-powerless-power #cinder starts at the bottom so her baseline mentality is way off if you want to do a cinderella remake #rags to riches is abt underdogs clawing up the social ladder against all odds #but riches rags riches is abt reclaiming what was yours #if we use cinders random disdain towards schnees in v8 as inspiration we could have a story of rival businesses #cinders father gets booted from power/high society thanks to Jacques's maybe legal maybe not methods and meddling #could go several ways from there:#her father could die and she'd be left homeless and alone in the cruel underbelly of the wealthy and powerful #she could find work w the Madame and try to endure the abuse so she and her father can pay the bills #her father could straight up sell her to the madame #itd be a horrific way to learn the significance of power and how easily it can be taken #i wanna like cinder so bad but v5 on fucked her irreparably. she doesnt even dress well anymore ffs

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drarrily-we-row-along · 1 year

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It was difficult, shopping for someone who had everything already.

Harry loved Draco more than he loved life itself, but he was absolutely impossible to shop for. Every year, Harry dreaded Christmas and then six months later his birthday, and then six more months and it was Christmas again, and... well.

He was wandering uselessly down Diagon when a new shop caught his attention. He'd been here just yesterday and the shop hadn't existed at all. Over the doorway there was a sign that only said 'The Bookshop' in someone's hasty handwriting but Harry felt compelled, for no reason that he could comprehend, to wander in.

The shop was packed tightly with books of all sorts, there was, by Harry's estimation at least, no discernible cataloging system and it appeared that every book was in some varying state of use.

Just as he was about to turn and leave, a woman called out, "here shopping for a lover, child?"

He turned at the sound of her voice and spotted her sitting amid piles of books. She was doing some sort of magic on them, but Harry wasn't sure what. Something about her reminded him of wide spaces, of giant trees, and crashing waves; maybe it was the way her curly brown hair cascaded over her shoulders and back like vines; or maybe it was the way her eyes seemed to shift colors, a verdigris mix of greys, and greens, and blues; or perhaps it was the deep wrinkles set into her face, lines for joy, and sorrow, and trials. Or maybe it was none of those things at all, but a deeper magic still. "Err-"

"Don't be shy," she said, beckoning him inward further with the crook of a finger. "Tell me, was I right? Is it a lover you're shopping for?"

And for a reason that Harry couldn't quite explain, he came toward her. "Yes," he said, as he stepped nearer. "My husband. But I haven't any idea what I'm looking for, so I'll just-"

"Hush," she commanded. "He's fair, this man of yours? Tall, slender, and pale?"

He frowned, "Yes, but-"

"Bright with a wild imagination?"

He nodded uncertainly.

She smiled, revealing perfectly white, sharp teeth. "The little dragon lord," she whispered, staring unseeingly at Harry for a long moment.

"Sorry, what?" he asked, taking a step back from her uncertainly.

The woman blinked, "It's a story," she replied. Then she held out her hand and a book that was lying open without any words on the pages, slid into her palm of its own volition. She hummed softly, a melody that left Harry feeling simultaneously afraid, hopeful, and just a little melancholic.

Naturally, those feelings stirred in him the desire to step closer and see what she was creating.

She glanced up at him, eyes warm and fond, before she looked back down at the book in her hands. Harry followed her gaze and saw that the pages were filling up with words, pages flipping themselves as the chapters were written.

A moment later the book snapped shut and she held it out to him.

Without really thinking about it, he took it and opened it. On the first page and written in a lovely curling script was

Le Petit Dragon-Seignior

"It's in French?" he asked, flipping through the first few pages and picking out a few of the French words he knew.

She nodded, "It's a French Story by tradition," she replied. "The first language it was ever told in," she hummed thoughtfully then added, "The only language it's ever been given in, in its entirety."

"I," he started before trailing off. "How did you-?"

"My father was a great seer, my mother one of the few dryads remaining in the forests in the Lowlands of Scotland where Merlin himself once lived," she said. "My gifts allow me to understand the heart of the intended recipient and give me power over the dead trees that have been preserved in the pages of these books," she continued, gesturing to the stacks of books all around her. "The door of my shop only appears to those seeking earnestly a gift that can only be given with great trust and love."

He blinked, glancing back at the door to the shop and watching as a group of people hurried past without seeming to notice the shop's existence at all. "So no one-"

"No," she agreed. "I'm alone here but for my books," one of her hands caressed the spine of one of those nearest to her. "But I don't mind," she added. "The wooden posts and door of this shop have given me sanctuary in a world that has often sought to destroy creatures like me."

Harry's eyebrows furrowed, he didn't like that. He didn't enjoy the thought of her here all alone, of the darkness that still pervaded this world.

"Ah," she said softly, mouth curving into a secret little smile at him, "he's found his knight, it seems."

"Sorry?"

"Go," she said, shooing him away. "You've much to do before the day's end. With Christmas tomorrow for you and your beloved," she added.

"Can I come back?" he asked, even as the door seemed to be getting closer without him having moved an inch.

She lifted a shoulder, "Perhaps. When the birth of a new star is on the horizon and you seek just as surely the gift of love in the form of kinship to the past, present, and future."

"What?" he asked, but before he could obtain any semblance of clarity, he found himself standing on the sidewalk staring at a brick wall with nothing but the book in his hand to prove that he'd just seen anything wondrous at all.

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

One gift.

That was all that they allowed themselves to give to the other.

They'd learned their lesson early on in their relationship, if they gave more than one it became a competition. And they both already had too many things. And they were both difficult to shop for.

Harry couldn't say that he wasn't nervous about this year's gift exchange. In fairness, he always was, but the how of getting this gift for Draco only continued to seem more and more impossible.

Still, the melody she'd hummed had stuck somewhere in the back of Harry's brain, repeating over and over, comforting him in his indecision. And when the time came for them to exchange their gifts, still in bed with a tray of coffee and cinnamon buns half finished between them, he and Draco said at the same time, "You're a hard man to shop for."

Harry laughed and Draco rolled his eyes, leaning in to kiss the smile off his lips. "Would you like to go first?"

Draco shook his head, glancing off to the side nervously.

"Whatever you've gotten me," Harry said softly, "You know that I'll love it."

"I haven't actually bought you anything," Draco said, biting his lip.

"Well," Harry said, reaching over to the nightstand to grab the book he'd wrapped when he got home from the bookshop, "I didn't technically buy this for you either. It was given to me by someone who was either one of the most interesting people I've ever met or the most insane." He paused and tilted his head, "Either way, she is still probably among the most interesting."

"That's saying something," Draco teased, "you do so love to meet people."

He laughed, it was a long standing joke that they could never get out of a party in under two hours, no matter how they tried, because Harry always always found someone who was too interesting not to talk to. "I'll tell you the story after you open it," he promised.

Draco took the package and opened it, hands smoothing over the wooden cover binder before turning to the first page. Not a word fell from his lips, but his hand flew up to cover his mouth as he turned to the first page and skimmed through the words. "How-?" he asked, looking up at Harry with tears shining in his eyes. "Wherever did you find this?"

He set about telling the story of how he'd stumbled into the bookshop the day before and telling him all about the woman he'd met there. "She gave me this book and said it was the perfect gift for you."

For just a moment, Draco sat completely still and silent. "My grandmere used to tell me this story when I was a little boy," he said. "Whenever I visited her home in France, I'd get a new part of the adventure of the little dragon-lord," he said wistfully, eyes mostly closed in memory. After a moment he looked at Harry, "I've looked for this story," he said. "I've looked everywhere, I've even hired people who deal in rare books to find it. It doesn't exist," he said and a shiver slipped up Harry's spine. "I thought she made the whole thing up. A story to help me weather the storms of life that were headed my way," he added with a little smile, "to teach me how to love and how to know when I'd found the right man to love me in return."

Harry smiled at him and took his outstretched hand, "I wouldn't be surprised if that was true. The whole book wrote itself while I was standing there."

Draco hugged the book to his chest, eyes closed as he breathed through his nose.

"Are you alright?" Harry asked.

His husband nodded, a tear spilling down his cheek, "I don't think you'll ever be able to give me a better present."

"I gave you a ring for Christmas last year," he said, trailing a finger over the engagement ring entwined with his wedding band, "And you said that then, too."

Draco laughed, one eye opening, "I look forward to you upping your game next year, then."

Harry groaned, "Impossible."

The smile slipped a bit from his face and he said, "Now I really don't want to give you your gift."

Harry leaned over and pressed a kiss to Draco's lips, "I am sure that I will love it."

Wiping his eyes, Draco set his book carefully on the bed next to them before leaning over and opening his nightstand to pull out a small package.

Harry took it and carefully untied the bow and slid open the wrapping paper. The lid of the box was the next thing to go, followed by a few layers of tissue paper. Nestled in more tissue paper was a vial filled with an opalescent fluid. "Sorry," he said, looking up at Draco, "you're going to have to help me a little with what it is. Potions was never my best subject."

Draco took a deep breath and sat up straighter, like he was stealing himself. "It's a fertility potion," he said.

Harry tilted his head but before he could say anything or ask any follow up questions Draco continued.

"It's an old magic," he said. "Known in mostly only pure blood circles because you have to have quite a bit of generational magic flowing through your veins for it to work. And because it requires at least a little bit of creature blood in your ancestry for it to be safe," he rattled off, quicker than Harry could even process. "And we don't have to, if you don't want to," he added quickly. "It's just sometimes I see the way you look at Ron and Hermione with Rose and I want you to have everything you could ever want. And I love the idea of having kids, I've always wanted to have kids," he continued. "But if you don't then-"

"Draco," he interrupted, "Wait. This potion," he said slowly, afraid that he was going to get it wrong, "would let us-?" he trailed off uncertainly.

"Have a baby," Draco answered meekly, like he was afraid of the outcome. "I've got loads of generational magic in my blood and there's Veela blood on my father's side. Not a lot," he hastened to add, "like I'm not going to sprout claws or grow wings or anything. But enough to be a binding agent for this to work."

"I-" he started, shaking his head, "But it's dangerous?"

"No more than any pregnancy, my healer assured me before I brought it to you," he said. Then, "But if it's not something you want-"

"Draco," he breathed. "Are you serious?"

He nodded uncertainly.

"Is that," he broke off, swallowing the lump in his throat. "Is a baby something you want?" he whispered, terrified of his husband's answer.

Draco nodded again, tears spilling from his eyes again, "I do," he said. "But it's fine if you don't," he said, arms wrapped around his stomach. "I-"

Harry set the box over on his nightstand and then promptly tackled Draco to the bed. "I desperately want to have a baby with you," he breathed against Draco's lips.

"Yeah?" Draco asked, leaning as far back as he could so that he could see Harry's face.

He pulled back to make it easier, "Yes, Draco. Godric, yes. I'd love to have a baby with you."

"Okay," his husband whispered, eyes filling with tears.

"Happy tears?" he asked.

Draco nodded and dragged Harry's mouth back to his own to kiss him again.

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

8 and 1/2 months later

Harry wasn't exactly sure what he was looking for to be honest. He'd just had this itch that was impossible to scratch, this urge to buy everything he could for Draco and the baby (Adhara, he reminded himself, the name making him smile; it was the brightest star in the Canis major constellation, close to Sirius. A name picked to honor the traditions in Draco's family and Harry's loved ones at the same time but without giving her anything to dictate who she'd become).

His need to provide (to nest, Draco had teased fondly, if a bit exasperated) was driving them both a little spare. But Harry couldn't help but wander through Diagon, just in case, waiting for something to jump out at him.

It was then, that the little bookshop appeared once more and her parting words came back to him. When the birth of a new star is on the horizon and you seek just as surely the gift of love in the form of kinship to the past, present, and future.

This time, Harry went in without any trace of uncertainty.

#Not quite sure where this one came from #i'm not mad at it though #drarry fanfic #magic #mentions mpreg #husbands #soft #fluff #drarry #25 days of draco and harry #25 days of drarry #traditional prompt 6 #christmas #a little world building is good for the soul #10/10 would just go vibe in this bookshop. sign me up.

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compacflt · 11 months

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wip wednesday: here, have some icemav stuff

#just scrolling through my 75k gdoc looking for items of interest #1. ice having a physical reaction to mav flying the darkstar #for my own peace of mind i have to assume the darkstar is saf compatible. let’s make it green. carbon neutral Mach 10.#2. mavvy baby’s 40th birthday <3 #3. post tgm debriefing who really cares #4. scene from a prompt one shot that’ll come out tmr or the day after #sorry i haven’t been posting a ton i just don’t have a lot of updates #tom iceman kazansky #pete maverick mitchell #top gun maverick #top gun #icemav #top gun fanfiction #the former secarmy is a lifelong civilian so doesn’t hit as hard #but still

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lollystocks · 7 months

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Intro to Sigils (Undead Abjuration 101)

Ectoberhaunt 2023 Day 10: Occultism

Summary: The student population of Danny's new college are very, very into the occult, putting Danny's studies (and blood pressure) in jeopardy. Good thing he knows exactly how to jeopardise their efforts.

Or: how Danny finally gains some overdue respect.

Words: 1,121

CW: blood (ritualistic), occultism, off-screen violence

___

People are dumbasses. Dead or alive.

This philosophy of Danny’s is reinforced tenfold when he starts college. “Fuck Around and Find Out” is a fine way to live when the consequences of said Finding Out are mild - grievous injury or arrest, for instance.

But with his typical luck, his fellow students at university (go bobcats) have decided that they’re going to lightly Fuck Around with the occult, and it’s up to Danny to stop them from Finding Out.

Ordinarily, students messing around with summoning circles and ouija boards is nothing to worry about on two accounts: (1) most occultism you find online is total bullcrap and you’d be lucky to summon a grumpy blob-ghost and (2), being more than a stone’s throw from a dimensional Veil or Tear means your word-perfect ritual ain’t gonna do shit.

Danny himself is not exempt from the “people are dumbasses” rule, because Danny had not done adequate research during college applications, and had failed to realize that Athens, Ohio, was sat on top of one of the thinnest stretches of dimensional membrane outside of his parents’ basement.

A good stretch of his freshman year is spent trying to subtly dissuade others in his hall from having anything to do with the new trend, so harmless elsewhere in the country. When that fails (“Danny my guy it’s a bit of drunk fun, ghosts don’t exist” God he missed Amity), it becomes straight sabotage. Swapping the thyme out for sage; salting some of the badger-blood (where had that even come from?); smudging some carefully-drawn chalk.

On the rare occasions where such intervention is necessary (see above: most online occultism is bullshit), Danny honestly needn’t bother. No one has the time for three days of silent prayer, or has the inclination to acquire a tooth from every participant, and as a general rule the easier the ritual, the weaker the ghostie. The main risk is that something small is conjured, or something a bit more powerful is able to project their voice or image into this plane and no more. Honestly, not particularly dangerous in itself.

But if one ritual works, and gets recorded, and posted to TikTok or something, all hell would break loose and everyone would get in on it and something nasty would be summoned and everyone would die.

So Danny has to keep a very. tight. lid. on every bit of occultism on campus.

It’s not going so well, and at one point Danny is spending his nights invisible and patrolling the whole campus (the whole goddamn town) for ritual behavior, much the same way he patrolled for malevolent spirits at night as a kid. It’s exhausting.

At one point, the worst comes to pass, and it’s somehow a blessing. He manages to miss something, and a Being is conjured. Someone gets hurt, badly, but they’ll recover, and most importantly - everyone believes now. Which is just as well, because the thin Veil is now a Tear, and Danny’s (lovely, peaceful, escapist) college is now overrun with spirits.The more things change, etc.

Now, Danny has never painted himself as a cynic, rather as a true believer who insisted that no one with sense should be touching these things. The few other true believers listened to him because of the deeply haunted look in his eyes that said “trust me, I know”, and others would have listened if it weren’t for the fact that ghosts don’t exist so that look in his eyes meant nothing, right?

So after The Incident, students are rushing to Danny. No one wants to Fuck Around anymore, what they want now is protection.

Danny becomes a mobile consultation service on How Not To Get Got by spirits. He has info that doesn’t appear anywhere else, be it on the internet or in dusty tomes, but everyone believes him.

“Basic chalk sigils for your dorm door - unless it’s east-facing or on a fourth floor, then use this one instead. Oh and you’ll want this extra symbol if/when you’re on your period, don’t ask why.”

“Salt doesn’t do shit to protect you other than change the function of other charms, it actually attracts poltergeists…”

“If you’re gonna get that tattooed, for the love of god get it on the left side of your back, I’m not dealing with the consequences of you messing that up.”

“Look the Latin itself is fine but it’s not actually the most powerful language for temporary wardings like these, better to go for something like Welsh or Cornish, or Yucatec, even Esperanto…”

“I absolutely refuse to “sign off” on your bullshit blood sigils Phil, you losing your dorm deposit is gonna have nothing to do with me and I want that on the record.”

And it works. No one (openly) questions where this knowledge, this expertise is coming from, because Danny is a gift horse and no one wants to inspect that mouth, thanks. He doesn’t charge for his services, but he sets up a little fund online and is able to fuel his coffee addiction with it. He never has to pay for booze, and people will slip him test answers before he can even ask. He’s practically swimming in upperclassmen’s used textbooks, left anonymously at his door.

Knowledge spreads fast (he wonders how much better he could have protected Amity had he had this level of respect then; or maybe it was his parents who ensured that could never happen, turning the town away from these methods and trying to fit a science-based solution into a magic-shaped hole) and eventually, Danny stops being the only point of knowledge.

By the time sophomore year rolls around, there’s a rhythm to it. Someone sets up a whatsapp group. Dorms are left with the previous inhabitants’ sigils intact ready for the new tenants (and the cleaners never report them to management). Freshman orientation includes informal lectures from upperclassmen on how to protect yourself and others from the undead.

By Danny’s junior year, there’s a (locked, invite-only) wiki full of protective rituals, rites, spells and symbols. Freshmen already know what’s coming, if they do their research. Graduating seniors auction off their amulets.

Things have settled pretty nicely by senior year. Danny’s on top of his studies, as well-rested as any other student (ie not at all) and he rarely has to go ghost. He needn’t have worried about spreading occult knowledge to the student population after all; they’d shown they can be trusted.

(And Danny almost gets away with it. But three months before graduation, he is violently and painfully jerked into a sideways pocket-dimension by what he recognises as an utterly perfect Summoning. Because Danny is also a dumbass, as he is about to Find Out.)

#ectoberhaunt23 #ectober 2023 #eh magic #day 10 #occultism #cw blood #fanfiction #dp #dp fanfic #danny phantom #late #already given up on fulfilling every prompt but hey we vibe #let danny say fuck #lotsa swearing #literally every prompt I've done so far is from the magic list ahah #mildly cracky #Lolly talks

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