#the held out notes that require- uh- breath control

[triviareads]

You know, if Sierra Simone chose to name an epilogue short story "Gloria", I hope she expected at least one reader to listen to Vivaldi's Gloria while reading Zenny getting absolutely railed by Sean in a church sanctuary the night before their wedding.

[just-a-new-gi-writer]

Hi! Congratulations on the 100 followers! Your building god series is so beautifully worded and the worldbuilding is absolutely to die for. I especially love the different spins you put on how each region and its inhabitants view/revere their creator.If you're still taking milestone requests, I was wondering how some characters (of your choosing) would be like with a creator who's free with their affections? Like a bow is met with a kiss, or creator insists on embracing instead of them kneeling?

Thank you! I, uh, think I went a little overboard with this prompt... Sorry for the wait!

A/N: Note that the reader’s gender varies between the snippets!

Word counts: 634 / 702 / 954 (163)

Warnings: Reader touching (kissing, hugging) acolytes

Masterpost

Me, writing this and realizing it was spiraling out of my control:

ALT

ALT

(F!Creator)

One, two, three, four, five, six.

One, two, three, four, five, six.

Zhongli measured the paces required to walk across the room, then counted the steps to return. Pacing was certainly not part of his usual repertoire, and even now he worried how much wear he was putting on the old soles of his shoes. Gah, he should have gotten them replaced when he heard that their Architect would soon arrive in Liyue City! No, he should have gotten all his clothes sorted out and more presentable, that would have made a better impression. Or… would it have been better to send Xiao to clean up that old residence he used some five hundred years ago?

Was it right to make that deal with Keqing? She had come up with that plan to ensnare Ningguang, and with her busy, the most likely candidate to soak up all of Her attention was out of the picture for now. All that was left now would be to ingratiate themselves with Her and ensure their standing. It was no sure-fire solution, but with the wildly short notice, it would be the best that they would have.

Zhongli snapped to attention. Out in the hallway, he heard two people approaching. One was Keqing’s voice, the other sounded on strings of gold. The latter voice laughed, a clear chiming sound that he cursed the wall for muffling. It was airy, it was cheerful, it was a balm to his weary ears and heart.

“–And I would like to introduce you to my associate.” As Keqing continued speaking, Zhongli hurried to make himself look fully presentable. “He’s in the employ of the Wangsheng Funeral Parlor, and he’s quite knowledgeable about the corners of Liyue and its history.”

The door glided open, and Zhongli turned and kneeled. “Dearest Creator, History’s Author, Forge of Days and Orator of Order. It is my greatest pleasure to welcome you to the City of Liyue, Land of Contracts and Order,” a shadow neared. Considering the finery just in the shoes and socks, this had to be the Creator. He raised his head slightly and held out a hand, “Demesne of that Archon Rex Lapis.” She set Her hand in his- the Creator, touching him at last! Her gilded caress on him was ten thousand times better than he could have imagined- and he brought it to his lips to kiss. “I sincerely hope that You may find our city–” Zhongli tipped his head up and his next words died in his throat.

There was not a hint of kindness or fondness on Her countenance, only dispassionate indifference. In the space of a heartbeat, Her hand snapped out of his and seized his collar, snapping him up to his feet with an urgency he hadn’t felt in centuries. In the same breath, She pulled his head down, tilted his head to the side, and–

Zhongli’s thoughts stopped dead.

Her Grace, the First Arbitrator, had pulled him in for a kiss. Not a chaste kiss on the cheek, but one to be shared between lovers.

She broke the kiss and pulled away. “There. That oughtta keep you quiet for a hot second, Rexie.” She released Her grip on his lapels and he scrambled to catch himself at the last second. “I’ve tolerated ‘Your Grace’ this and ‘Your Holiness’ that, and I’m drawing a line in the sand here and now.” She spun around to face a Keqing that was too shocked for words, “That goes for you too, Kaykay. Am I clear?”

A blush formed on Keqing’s cheeks. “C-c-Crystal!”

She turned back to him. “How about you, Zhongs? …Zhongs?” She paused, kneeling to more closely inspect the near catatonic archon, a look of frustration crossing her face. “I’m starting to think this stunt was a bit counterproductive…”

ALT

(Gn!Creator)

Jean fiddled with the pen in her hand. She wasn’t sure how she should be reacting to this whole situation. The Creator. Here. In her domain. Who specifically requested to talk with her alone. Her. Specifically her. And no one else. With the Creator. In this office.

Stressed? Her? No. She didn’t even know what the word meant!

Someone knocked on her door and she swore she jumped a foot into the air and fumbled, trying to catch her pen. “Jean?” Lisa’s voice was muffled through the door. “Your special visitor is here.”

“O-oh, right.” When had she been gripping the pen so tightly? “Send Them in. Please.” She shook her hand as she stood up, trying to release the tension as she made her way to the front of her desk.

The doors clicked and swung inwards, revealing Lisa, ever with her calm smile. She stepped aside and let Jean see Mondstadt’s Liberator in the flesh. It’s not as though she hadn’t seen Them before- no citizen of this city could avoid the myriad statues, paintings, ore reliefs, but seeing Their Grace was something else entirely.

“Unser Emanzipator,” Lisa swept her hand to Jean in a grand gesture, “may I have the pleasure of introducing you to die Stellvertretender Großmeister, Jean Gunnhildr.”

Jean knelt, her heart hammering in her chest and her pulse sounding in her ears. She tilted her head down and closed her eyes. If only these could truly hide her state from Them. “Atem Führen, I hope to give you the warmest welcome to our city on this fine day. Mondstadt opens its gates and its arms to you on this day and for every day to come. We–”

“Jean…” The tone in Their voice made her freeze. She was no stranger in wanting some connection, some interaction to her dearest Creator, but hearing this hesitation from Them made her lock up. What had she done wrong? How had They judged her wanting? “Please, rise.”

She hurried to stand, her thoughts racing to find what her mistake was, alongside some way of wording her apology. “Y-Your Grace, I–”

Lisa chuckled, snapping Jean’s attention towards her. This is how she was acting in front of The Creator?! “I’ll leave you two to your little chat.” She grabbed the doors and turned to leave, but addressed Their Grace briefly. “Do remember to return those books on time, dearie. I haven’t had to come up with a punishment for someone like You, but please don’t give me a reason to get… creative.” She shut the doors behind herself as she gave one last chuckle.

They had given Lisa a brief glance over Their shoulder, then looked back at Jean. “Look,” They crossed Their arms, “I get it, you’re stressed, meeting a deity- ‘creator’-” They made air quotes at that remark, “is a big thing. But you need to calm down.”

“Calm–! I–!” Jean had a hard time figuring out what to parse first. “Löwenzahn, please tell me that there is some mistake here!”

“Jean. Calm down.”

Jean balked. “I am calm!”

They rolled their eyes. “Clearly not enough, as this can attest.” A hand snapped to hers, turning it over and revealing the ink splotch spread across her gloves. “Here,” They stepped forward, “this should help.”

“Your–!” she tried to take a step back from Their approach, but They were faster. They slipped their arms around her, pulling her in and keeping her from fleeing. “Your Grace, what are you doing?”

“I’m hugging you. Is your work taking that much of a toll on you?”

“Creator–”

“There’s that title again. Look, you can just call me [Y/N], alright? Much easier than remembering all those titles.”

“…Crea–”

“Uh uh! What did I say?” 

Jean grit her teeth. Her hands were shaking and she could feel the blush on her face. What was going on?! “[Y/N]. Please let me go.”

“I’m not letting go until you calm down.”

Jean tried to focus on her breathing, on the doors ahead of her, on the sound of birds chirping outside, but she couldn’t stop the heat rising in her cheeks.

They sighed, shifting Their grip on her. “We may be here a while…”

ALT

(M!Creator)

Kujou Sara counted the steps as she crossed the room.

One, two, thee, four, five. She had been accosted by a certain noble time and again today, doing everything in his power to try and edge his way into Tenshukaku Palace.

Six, seven, eight, nine, ten. She wouldn’t have minded so much if it hadn’t been so clearly stated that the Shogun would not be entertaining the thought of visitors during such an important time.

Eleven, twelve, thirteen, fourteen, fifteen. And if he were the only fool trying to worm his way in, this wouldn’t be such a huge problem. Word had reached her ears that other, less prominent nobles as well as unscrupulous merchants were seeking the same ends.

Sixteen, seventeen, eighteen, nineteen, twenty. All of this stress built on top of her work in the past days: ensuring the defenses were adequate (though she supposed that she should thank those intruders for testing them for her), directing the guards and their proper rotations, and training to be the personal guard for His Eternal Light.

Twenty-one, twenty-two, twenty-three, twenty-four, twenty-five. The Shogun required her to intensify her training- not that Her Eternity doubted her abilities, but she fully understood that any lapse in judgment, any gap in the armor around His Grace would be ruthlessly exploited in this vulnerable time, and they were not to show weakness while He was–

“Sara?” She almost tripped on her twenty-sixth step. “Kujou Sara? Is that really you?”

Sara recognized that voice. In her dreams, she had heard of the Shogun’s thundering commands echoing into infinity, but intertwined with it, echoing behind and though it was the essence of the Eternity from whom she drew her power and authority. One could not escape the shadow of its presence in Inazuma City, in Tenshukaku, least of all in the presence of the Shogun herself.

She turned and saw and felt Him, not as a reflection nor as an echo. Him, who forged the islands they stood upon and the shores of the infinities. Him, who engineered the thousand components in a human. Him, who set the paths of millions to their proper places, who set the Shogun in her throne, her servants in their places, and who brought her to this position.

And who brought the two of them together in this very room.

He was garbed in the finest that Inazuma had to offer. The deepest, most vibrant violets. The softest, finest silks. The insignias, threaded with gold and silver. Sara wondered if the Shogun harbored the faintest glimmer of envy of His attire. “Thank goodness I finally found you,” He chuckled. “I can’t believe I managed to sneak away from all the guards.”

And who was looking for her?!

She failed to stutter out a response before he continued. “I wanted to find you. A-and to thank you.”

“–Your Grace?!”

“Well,” He brought a hand behind his head, “I mean, you were the first person I pulled way back then. …and, to be honest, the, uh, only good character I pulled. For a long while. I just wanted to thank you for all the work you’ve done, and…”

‘Pulled’? She hadn’t heard that word used with this context. Perhaps there was a meaning that He was using that she was unfamiliar with? Something archaic or poetic? She could at least take a stab at the intended meaning. “Rest assured, Five-fold Light, being in Your service is a delight I would do all over again.”

“… I also wanted to apologize for all the work I put you through.”

“–Your Grace?” She didn’t expect a meeting with The Creator to surprise her in this way this much.

“I mean, I asked so much from you. All the domains, all the bosses, all the commissions and lay line outcrops, all the material runs… all those pigeons of Timmie’s…”

“No, Your Grace, I…” She didn’t recognize most of what He was referring to. She knew that He had called her between her duties for tasks beyond her knowledge and understanding (and beyond what her memories could recall) … but the pigeons? “Please, think nothing of it all. These were tasks You had called me to do.” She knelt in respect. “If You would but call upon your humble servant again, I would follow your every command without hesitation.”

“Sara, please,” there was something in His voice- surprise? Confusion? “You don’t need to kneel in front of me. Uh… Rise. Please.” She complied and He visibly sighed in relief. Was there something she was missing? He glanced over His shoulder. “They’re going to start searching for me soon,” He mumbled. “I should go soon, but first–”

He stepped forward and, before she could react, grabbed her and pulled her in close. Kujou Sara had found herself blessed to have had contact with the Shogun before, but she could have never considered the possibility of the events in front of her.

The Creator, Author of All Joys and Sorrows, held her gently as He kissed her on her cheek.

In that moment, she wondered if her current desire for eternity, to disentangle and remove time from this very moment, outmatched that of the Shogun’s.

Just as quickly as He approached, He pulled back. “I’m sorry to cut this short,” He turned to leave, waving as he went, “I hope to see you again soon!”

Sara’s hand rose of its own accord, first to attempt to wave back, then to caress the spot where He had set a kiss on her. A warmth blossomed in her chest- pride, embarrassment, respect for The Creator, she let her feelings burn through her.

…She turned back to her path. How many steps had she taken?

==

Shika flinched as she heard the sharp crack behind herself. Cleaning under the Guji’s watchful eye was always a stressful chore- one could never tell where her eyes were, in truth. She risked turning around and checking on the priestess’s condition.

Yae Miko sat in her usual place, eyes closed and a concentrated, furious look across her face. Her slowly closing hand was empty but covered in tea; the same drink splashed all over her lap. What could have made her so upset? Was it related to that shadowy fox the other shrine maidens had seen heading towards Tenshukaku Palace?

“Shika, darling.” The Guji’s voice made her flinch anew. “If you’re going to stand and stare, the least you could do is clean as well.”

“I-I’m sorry, I–!”

Yae sighed. “Please, save your excuses. If you’ll excuse me, I must find a change of attire. If you perform poorly in your tasks, I might be able to procure some roast crow for you.”

[meowzfordayz]

the daily snooze

Author’s Note: brainstormed this while suffering through gen chem. 🤓

the daily snooze

Rengoku Kyojuro x Reader

Word Count: ~900

CW: mild sexual content

~faqs~

“You look tired!” Kyojuro exclaims.

“I wonder why,” you snort, slinging your backpack onto your feet ouch as you plop into the seat next to him.

“Me too!”

You roll your eyes at his persistent enthusiasm, stifling a yawn as you glance at him. Kyojuro’s… concerned about me? Your head shakes slightly, mentally facepalming as you scold yourself internally. Don’t get ahead of yourself. His hair looks particularly enthralling today. It’s lazily tied back, long tendrils occasionally falling and interrupting his line of vision. He’s adorable you groan inwardly as he lets out a puff of air to blow the tendrils out of his way.

“Well?” he nudges you.

“Well what?” you’re snippier than intended. Fortunately, he’s unfazed.

“Why are you tired?”

You want to melt into the kindness in his voice. Or sleep. You could also totally sleep in it.

“Trying not to fail this class,” you grunt.

He raises an amused eyebrow, “Wouldn’t that require getting enough sleep?”

You glare at him, arms crossing exasperatedly, “Theoretically, you’re correct, but experimentally, I’ve discovered that pass-this-class and sleep-eight-hours-every-night can’t coexist.”

He chuckles pleasantly, mindlessly patting your hand. Stop, stop, stop your brain spazzes, fingers twitching involuntarily. Usually you were much better at controlling your hopeless-crush-reactions around Kyojuro — painstakingly, you’d had years to practice. Maybe getting enough sleep should be higher on my list of priorities if only to avoid ruining your friendship with an exhaustion induced confession or too-friendly action.

“I believe in you!” Kyojuro nods confidently, “I am also trying not to fail this class.”

You giggle, “Are you also dead on your feet?”

A dent appears between his eyebrows, “I am not dead! I always sleep at least six hours.”

“Good for you,” you grumble I wish I could manage even four.

Kyojuro studies the fatigue in your slouch, takes note of the humongous coffee you’re clutching, and frowns deeper as you fail to hide another yawn. He knows this class is demanding, mostly due to its unnecessary load of busywork, but he’s watched you with growing fondness power through the past three years of undergrad.

He recalls with unabashed pride the first time he’d ever sat next to you — your mouth had parted in awe, limbs flailing endearingly. Fiery, glow man actually chose to sit next to me? Of course you had noticed him previously — how could you have missed the reddest hottest redhead ever? Then again, you’d figured everyone had noticed him, and you were in class absolutely and solely to learn. Not to get dick. You’d hurriedly kicked your backpack over to create more room for him (general lecture classes were often held in large, crowded halls), and had introduced yourself in one, long run on breath: hiI’m[y/n]sorryaboutallmystuffwhat’syourmajorareyouenjoyingthisclassyou’resopretty. He’d laughed boisterously, happy to receive such a welcome considering your initial speechlessness. 

“You’re so pretty too!” he’d replied.

“E-excuse me?” you’d sputtered.

He’d beamed widely, “You said I was so pretty! You are so pretty too!”

“I did not say that,” you’d gasped scandalously.

He’d shrugged happily at your vehement denials, silently vowing from then on to always sit next to you.

“You should take a nap,” Kyojuro declares, smoothly grabbing your coffee from your hand.

You do a double take, eyes narrowing incredulously. “We’re in class dumbass,” you reach unsuccessfully for your coffee, “And I need that, dumbass.”

“I am not dumb!” he insists, “I am a genius!” you bite back a retort as he continues, “You will use my arm as a headrest, I will take notes, and then share them with you after class!”

It’s been a while since he’s rendered you speechless, and the amount of blinking he receives in response gives him immense satisfaction.

“Uh- Uhm, I feel like-”

“I promise my handwriting is legible!” he stares at you expectantly.

“That’s not- That isn’t- Kyojuro…”

His arm inches closer to you. Irresistible warmth radiates from his skin, your elbows almost brushing. You fantasize resting your head on his steady bicep, giddy at the prospect of getting to nap through class without the consequence of skipping I mean, technically I’d still physically be in class. Your body, to your embarrassment, starts leaning in, head snapping quickly upright in mortification.

“[y/n]...” you’re softening into how gently he murmurs your name, “You should take a nap…”

“Hng-” you swallow a loud yawn.

“I will take care of you,” his voice echoes distantly as a comfortable heat presses against your cheek. So, tired… so, cozy… “Sweet dreams [y/n].” Has class started yet?

Kyojuro mentally pats himself on the back as your body slumps, slowly placing your coffee on the floor beside his backpack before readjusting his notebook to make sure his notetaking won’t disrupt your slumber. He freezes in surprise when your fingers tug blindly at the hem of his shirt, and hums contentedly once it’s clear you’re still asleep. Emboldened, he carefully lifts your hand to his stomach, mentally patting himself on the back again as you immediately clutch at his shirt.

My gosh [y/n] is precious!

Silently, he vows from then on to always ask about how much you’ve slept, and how well — and to always offer you his arm. And someday, maybe, hopefully, definitely, to offer you his heart.

[softrenjunnie]

the battle of hogwarts l pj

pairing: reader x jay

characters: boyfriend!jay, friend!jake, brother!sunghoon, chosen one!heeseung, death eaters, voldemort, other small characters

genre: hogwarts!au, angsty angst (maybe a little speck of fluff somewhere? but i wouldn’t bet on it)

word count: 4.1k

warnings: mentions of blood, wounds, pain, death, torture and broken bones; swear words; character death.

note: spoilers !!!! i reference/talk about a lot of the stuff that happens in the battle of hogwarts, aka spoilers from the “harry potter and the deathly hallows” book (and movies), but i mean it’s a different story so it’s not super spoilery? note that heeseung plays the part of harry potter here !!!! also, the ending is rlly bad and weird (just like many parts of this oop-) but also pretty open so i guess there could be a pt 2? if i ever get the inspiration to write it heh

“stupefy!”

you heard the voice from behind you and managed to leap to your side to avoid the spell just in time, letting the red light instead hit the wall in front of you. you turned around, and instantly noticed the death eater who was standing many meters away, his wand by his head and ready to strike. “petrificus totalus!”

“protego!”

the beams shooting from his wand met the shield yours had produced, blocking it and letting its light die out. closing the distance between you, he lunged forwards and kept casting a variety of spells, which you, with great difficulty, blocked. you couldn’t hold your protection much longer, it was getting too tough - so instead, you turned around and made a run for it. a green beam of light missed your head by only a few centimeters, as you turned around a corner and kept running. you knew he was following you, and you knew you couldn’t keep this up; just as he rounded the corner, you pointed your wand to the roof above of him. “bombarda maxima!” you tried your best to keep your voice as steady and strong as possible, despite your wild nerves. the spell worked; soon, the death eater lay buried underneath the heavy stones that had just fallen.

you let out a sigh as you determined that he wasn’t going to rise, but you remembered to not let down your guard. there were perhaps hundreds of others inside and around the castle, and you knew from this little incident that they weren’t afraid to attack. so as you ran ahead, on towards the great hall where you hoped to find the people you were looking for, it was with your wand raised high and your eyes listening for every small sound in your vicinity.

you had been taken aback at first when that death eater had arrived; you hadn’t expected to meet anyone the moment you stepped out of the room of requirement. you thought everyone ought to be in the great hall, or perhaps outside of the castle - not lurking around on the top floors of the building. but none of that was what was going through your mind at the moment. you were focused on finding-

“jake, watch out!” you could recognize his voice from miles away, and especially when he was calling out for his best friend, but you don’t think you’ve ever heard such desperation in his voice ever before. at the end of the hallway, you spotted him - jay’s wand was shooting rays of all colors as he leaped forward, shooting down the woman in black, long robes who had just a second ago had a good grip around jake’s neck. she lay still on the floor, and for a few moments the boys stand as if frozen, until jake crouches down next to her and declares that she’s still alive, just fainted, to which both boys seem to calm down for a second. that is, until a scream is heard from a bit away, and the both of them run to where it came from, out of sight from you.

you were surprised that you had stopped in your tracks to watch the scene ahead of you, and you shake yourself before starting to run forwards again. reaching the end of the hallway, you turn to the way jay and jake had just gone. through the big entrance to the great hall, your eyes scanned over your two friends who were helping a ravenclaw girl, who you recognized to have been in your charms last year, fight off two death eaters. sprinting towards them, you watched as the girl, who you now remembered is called yewon, got hit by a spell right in the stomach, launching her into the wall behind her with great force.

as the wizard cheered his own accomplishment and was left unfocused on the other students, jake used the opportunity to strike. “expelliarmus!” he yelled, and the death eater’s wand flew out of his grip and onto the floor, close to where jay was currently standing, fighting the other death eater. as jake stunned the wandless wizard, jay did something he shouldn’t have - he bowed down to pick up the wand from the floor, but in that exact moment, the witch in front of him aimed towards him and was surely about to jinx him-

“levicorpus!” you yelled with all your might, now only standing a few meters away from them both, and the witch too dropped her wand, now hanging in the air upside down. 

jay turned his head to where your voice had come from, and his jaw dropped once he saw your face. “y/n?!”

“petrificus totalus.” the witch now dropped down onto the floor, head first, and you almost felt bad for her for a moment before you started thinking about what she could’ve done to jay if you hadn’t jumped in.

“what are you doing here?” jay exclaimed, coming closer to you. “are you completely crazy?”

“a small 'thanks' would’ve been nice,” you scoffed, and before he had the opportunity to say anything else, you turned your head to where your former classmate had crashed into the wall, and spoke again. “yewon? are you still there?”

you didn’t hear an answer, and you ran over to where you suspected she was - and she was right by the wall, lying on the floor and sobbing as she held an arm to her chest.

“hey, are you alright?” you crouched down next to her, placing a hand on her trembling shoulder.

“my arm...” she managed to get out in-between sobs. “it hurts...”

when you looked at it, it wasn’t bleeding nor did it have any visible curses on the skin. you turned your head around to jake, who was now standing behind you. “do you think it’s broken?”

“likely. with that force, i’m surprised more isn’t,” he said, and you nodded agreeingly, pulling out your wand and tapping it to her forearm.

“brackium emendo.”

yewon gave out another cry, but this time it wasn't out of pain. “thank you! thank you so much-”

“y/n,” you heard jay’s stern voice from behind you and you turned around once again. his arms were crossed over his chest, and if you had been anyone else, you likely would’ve crumbled under his gaze. but you couldn’t, not now, there were much more important things to do, people were still screaming on the other side of the castle walls and- “please, can’t we talk?”

you stood up, dusting off your knees with your hands before speaking to jake. “make sure she’s okay, please? and pick up that witch’s wand from the floor, and make sure neither of the death eaters get up.” jake nodded at you, flashing you a small smile, before you walked over to where jay was now standing, two tables away from the others.

the great hall was completely empty now, except for the four of you and the two stunned death eaters, and the atmosphere was almost tranquil, even though there was a full-on war going on just a small distance away.

“what are you doing here?” he asked, the desperation clear in his voice. “i thought they made it clear that-”

“i didn’t get to choose what i wanted to do, i was just forced into the room of requirement like everyone else, and-” you took a deep breath. “of course, i escaped. did you really expect me to just follow the others?”

“yes, because you’re underage, y/n!”

“by two months,” you spat, having a hard time controlling your anger at jay’s stubbornness. “i’m two months too young to fight? that doesn’t make any sense, you know i’m better at charms than most of your classmates!”

he shook his head, his eyes wandering around the room. “they were the rules, y/n. i can’t believe you-”

“can’t believe what? that i would want to fight for my school? fight for my friends? fight for this world to not go under-” you let a few tears fall down your cheeks, and you weren’t sure if it was out of exhaustion, frustration, or despair; likely a combination of them all. but you didn’t bother wiping them away. “fight for you. did you expect that i would just sit at home, just hoping that my friends, family, and boyfriend would all survive? not knowing anything and not being able to affect it would’ve killed me, i think you know-”

you were cut off as he pushed his lips onto yours. your eyes fluttered closed instinctively, and your hand that wasn’t currently holding your wand went up to cup his cheek. he tasted of blood from a small cut on his bottom lip and you tasted of salt from your tears, but neither of you minded. kissing jay felt so familiar; it felt like you were home again. it felt like you were back in your common room with him like you’d been a year ago, when no war had been going on and no dark lord was preparing for his final battle. jay’s lips smoothed over yours with such ease and such softness that if you hadn’t been standing, you could’ve fallen asleep from it.

“hey guys,” jake’s voice made you jump into reality again, and you moved your hand from jay’s cheek to his chest to push him away from you far enough for your lips to part from his again. “i hate to be the one to interrupt your moment, but uh... we should really get going.”

you nodded towards him, before looking back over at jay again, who did not look like he had wanted to stop his previous actions, a tiny pout on his lips. now that you were standing so close to him, you could study his face; there were several smaller wounds all over it, and he winced slightly when you reached up to remove a small piece of glass that had been stuck in a cut below his right eye. you used your thumb to wipe away the blood which had leaked down from a bigger wound by his jaw. “episkey,” you whispered, watching as the skin melted together and soon looked as if nothing had ever happened to it.

there was a loud bang, and the glass of the windows behind the staff table shattered everywhere - and in through the hole ran at least a dozen new death eaters, followed by students, teachers, parents, and other adults who were fighting for your side. and amongst them, you spotted none other than your brother - sunghoon was dueling a death eater, whom you’d seen before in the newspapers, all alone, but as he struck the other wizard with a jinx that seemed to have an extreme force, the death eater flew and slammed into a wall just like yewon had done.

in the few moments that you had stood watching your brother, the people around you hadn’t stopped like you, but instead started helping out in battles. you instantly joined jay’s side again, helping him battle a tall and broad man whose wand was producing beams of light at a faster speed than you had ever seen before. “incarcerous!” jay roared, and ropes appeared out of thin air which wrapped around the death eater and held his limbs tightly together.

“good one,” you told him, and turned around to find someone else to help - but standing right behind you was none other than sunghoon. 

“jay, are you dumb?!” he screamed at the boy standing next to you. beads of sweat were rolling down his face and his dark eyes made him look of a mixture between exasperated and exhausted. “forcing my baby sister into a war?!”

“he didn’t force me, you idiot!” you frowned up at him, groaning. “i chose it myself. and what part of me is baby, sunghoon? i’m almost of age, start treating me like it!”

“either way, you can’t be here! you have to get back to the room of requirement!”

you shook your head and took a step closer to him. “in case you haven’t noticed, they’re fighting in here. if we don’t help out soon, we will all be dead. i’d rather die helping out than die arguing about this!”

you walked past him and raised your wand, ready to strike at a witch jake was taking on at the moment, but sunghoon grabbed your arm and pulled you back. you were about to shake him off and complain when he pulled you into a hug. holding you close, he muttered, “i can’t lose you. please, please, take care. never battle alone.” you squeezed him back and nodded into his chest, before pulling away from him. you heard how he told jay to protect you, and the two of them were just about to hug when a red light missed the tops of their heads by just a few centimeters, almost as if it was a signal that you all needed to get back to the war.

you and jay took on one death eater each, throwing spells and shooting colored jets through the air as quickly as you could. but after stunning your opponent, and helping jay do the same to his, you overlooked the room and realized just how many people there were. it was extremely crowded, with injured people crying for help while lying on the floor and voldemort’s helpers assaulting other wizards and witches with both their wands and their bodies. it was overwhelming, there were too many of them, how would you ever win this? your breath became uneven, and you felt like you weren’t getting any air. your head was spinning, and the ground felt like it was shaking below you - it likely was, to be honest - and you couldn’t stay in your place a second longer.

you turned around slowly, before moving towards the opening of the main hall and looked for the best place to go. to your left, your defense against the dark arts teacher was fighting two robed, tall men all by himself, though he seemed to have no problem doing so; to your right, the hallway was empty, so that’s where you went. you found a hole in the wall a bit away, and you could almost hear the fresh air of the night calling for you, so you climbed out through it. instantly, your lungs were filled with the cold air, making you close your eyes in satisfaction and sit down on the ground, relaxing fully. you instantly felt better, and you felt like you wouldn’t have to be out here for a lot longer before you could back inside, just-

“look at who we have here,” said a female voice from beside you, and you opened your eyes and flew up to stand on the stone debris from what had formerly been the wall. you recognized her instantly - she was one of voldemort’s most faithful followers, and you had read about her and her escape from azkaban in the newspapers before. “isn’t it the little mudblood who’s been helping lee heeseung in his plans against the dark lord?” you raised your wand to attack, but she was quicker. “expelliarmus!” your wand flew up into the air and landed right by her feet. you didn’t even bother trying to fetch it, you knew it would be to no avail. “tell me where the boy is hiding, and i shall spare your life.”

“i don’t know!” you cried out.

she raised her eyebrows. “hmm. maybe this will make you remember. crucio!”

you had never experienced pain like this in your life. you crashed down onto the ground, unable to control anything in your body. the pain was obliterating, intense, all-consuming. you screamed, but you couldn’t hear yourself, all your senses being dulled out by the pain. 

and suddenly, she broke off the curse, though your muscles were still throbbing from the curse. “do you know where he is now, then?” she sneered.

“no-” just as you had managed to whimperingly utter the word, she flicked her wand once again. the second hit of the spell felt a lot like the first, but this time she held it for much longer. your bones were on fire, a million knives were pushing into your skin, boiling water was being poured over your body, your head was about to explode-

the relief you felt when she stopped the curse for the second time was indescribable. high-pitched, horrifying laughs were flowing from the death eater’s mouth before she once again spoke. “i think you know now.”

you wanted to slap the grin off her dark lips, but you had no energy to even stand up. instead, you gathered your last bits of power, and said, “i don’t. and even if i had known, i wouldn’t have told you.”

she chuckled, before shaking her head at you. “you silly girl... you deserve this.”

the third time the spell hit you, it was much worse than the other two times; she must’ve gone extremely angry by now. it felt as if you were in space, there was no air for you to breathe. your lungs weren’t working properly. you wished to do anything to make this extreme pain go away, anything... even disappear or... die...

though it had felt like an eternity for you, there were only a few moments after she’d cursed you that the curse was interrupted once again. you couldn’t even look up; you were curled into a ball on the ground, eyes shut tight, wishing that everything would just be over...

soon, there was a shuffle beside you, and soon a hand lay on your shoulder, shaking it gently. “y/n? are you alive? please, be alive...”

by now, you were just barely breathing; it was too hard, it took too much energy from you and you already had very little left.

“hey, it’s all fine now,” a voice told you, as a hand caressed your cheek. “she’s gone. you’ll be fine. please, just-” the voice paused, and when it returned, you could tell that the person by you had turned around and was now yelling towards the entrance of the castle. “jake! get some water, quick!”

you were too exhausted to listen clearly to his voice and try to recognize it, but from his wording, you could easily tell who it was. slowly, you opened your eyes, looking up at jay who sat crouched next to you. he had more bruises and wounds all over his face now than he had had when you had left him, and he was looking down at you with eyes of such panic that you’d never seen before. “fuck, y/n,” he mumbled. “you can’t just go off like that. do you realize how-”

he stopped in his tracks when you reached up with a hand to thread your fingers through his hair, pushing his fringe back and out of his eyes. “i’m fine.”

“a-are you sure?”

you nodded slowly at him, closing your eyes once again and letting your arm fall to your side. “i just need to...rest a bit...” jay let out a sigh of relief, and his hand went from your shoulder and up to your face, letting his thumb wipe away a few tears that you hadn’t noticed shedding. “what happened to her?” you hummed, voice low.

“oh, you didn’t hear it?” you furrowed your eyebrows. “i stunned her at first, but then voldemort spoke over the grounds and told his forces to retreat, to give us one hour to treat to everyone’s wounds and to say our goodbyes to those who are leaving us. he said that heeseung has an hour to give himself in, or else the war is on again.” 

you were surprised that you hadn't heard voldemort's voice, but then again, you even now had to put in all your force to hear jay properly. you looked up at him. “he’s not going to, is he?” you questioned, to which jay merely shrugged. “he can’t, that’s-”

“y/n, are you okay?! someone told me what happened,” said jake as he came up to you two, an empty plastic bottle in his hand. “i only found this, it’s empty, i know, but i mean you can always-”

“aguamenti,” jay said to cut off his friend’s rambling, filling the bottle quickly before handing it to you. thanking them both, you sat up straight, although every muscle and every ligament in your body screamed as you did, and drank a couple of sips.

deciding that you wouldn’t get anything done sitting there all night, you put away the bottle and pressed your hands into the ground, trying to push yourself up, but instantly failed. jay saw your struggling and bolted up, offering his hand down to you and helping you stand up once you took it in yours. “how’s your balance?” jake asked as you froze for a few seconds when you were trying to figure out if you were blacking out due to the stinging feeling in your head or due to your blood pressure dropping from standing up too quickly.

“not good enough,” you chuckled. “will you guys help me?” they both nodded, and soon they were by your sides, letting you throw your arms across their shoulders to steady you.

as you walked into the castle again through the hole you had come out from a while ago, you couldn’t help but to think about what jay had said earlier. say our goodbyes to those who are leaving us... he made it seem like there are many who were too injured to bring back. there couldn’t be a lot, could there?

“where is heeseung?” you asked, moving your head between them to look at their faces. “he knows we are fighting, right? he can’t give up!”

jake stopped in his tracks, which made you jump back too even though you all were just a few meters from the main hall by now, and he gave jay a very specific look. “you haven’t told her, have you?”

jay rubbed his hand that wasn’t holding you up against the back of his neck. “i- i haven’t found a good moment to do it!”

“wha-” was all you could let out before jake spoke again.

“and you think this is a good moment?!” he almost yelled, shaking his head at jay.

“i don’t think we’ll find a better one, nor that we have any choice,” jay groaned, and just as your confusion and frustration of not being allowed into the conversation peaked, someone ran into your view.

“oh my god, y/n!” cried yewon, running up to you. “i’m so sorry for your loss, i wish there was something i could’ve done-”

and that’s when it hit you. you realized what jay and jake had been referring to, but you refused to believe it. she must’ve been confused, it can’t have been true, nothing was wrong-

you pulled away your arms from the boys and ignored their calls of your name when you sprinted forwards, past yewon and into the hall. you pushed away your thoughts of your aching muscles and how it was likely unwise to do this; nothing was more important right now than making it all the way to where the dead bodies lay in the middle of the room. they had removed the tables by now, and people were gathering in groups around the wizards and witches on the floor, though you couldn’t see anything other than the one body you were aiming towards. and as you reached him, the world turned black.

“sunghoon,” you whispered, crouching down to the floor and shaking him by his shoulders. “please, sunghoon. you’re not dead, you can’t die, not now, you...” before you knew it, your sobs were uncontrollable, your face buried in his dusty cloak. this couldn’t be real. there was no way. “wake up... i beg of you...”

you felt someone sit down next to you, and then a hand on your back. you instantly turned around and threw yourself into jay’s embrace, crying out loud. your hands clutched at the material covering his chest and once again you had trouble breathing, your breaths unnaturally short and rapid. jay held your trembling body to him as tightly as he could, hoping that if you felt that he was there with you he’d be able to hold you down in reality, to make sure your mind wasn’t floating away. 

but as time passed, and you started realizing that sunghoon wouldn't come back, your sorrow turned into something else. vengefulness. they weren't getting away with this. 

[charmandhex]

You know, listen, under most circumstances, Taako would probably be thrilled to have a gorgeous man staring fixedly at him. But a gorgeous man staring fixedly at him while holding a scythe considerably bigger and scarier than your standard adventurer’s sickle? Yeah, that would be an exception.

“Taako Taaco,” mystery man says menacingly, dramatically. Then he blinks, as though surprised, and the ominous weight of the encounter is momentarily dispelled.

“Yeah?” Taako asks, self-preservation immediately switching gears toward throwing tall, dark, handsome, and armed off his game.

“Taako...”

“Hello.” Taako waves, even throws in a wink.

“Taaco?”

“Yep.” Taako pops the p. “What can I do for you?”

This, however, seems to be the wrong question, because mystery man’s face goes sharp again, sharper than should be possible, as though he’s taken cheekbones sharp enough to kill all too literally.

“On behalf of the Raven Queen, goddess of the natural order of life and death, you, Taako Taaco, stand accused of crimes of necromancy in the aiding in the escape of one Lup Taaco from the Astral Plane and imprisonment in the Eternal Stockade.” As he speaks, his face grows gaunter; his black robes grow darker; and the very air around them grows colder. In moments, looming over Taako is a skeletal figure with a tattered black cloak and eye sockets full of flame. The one thing to remain the same is the scythe, close enough that Taako’s breath cools and condenses against the metal surface in the frigid air.

Raven Queen, huh? Figures. Just his luck. But now Taako knows what he’s up against. And forget cutting the tension with a knife; the tension itself could cut. Taako knows he has to tread very, very carefully here. “Now, uh, hold on there, my guy.” Taako makes a time out symbol. “Lup wasn’t in the Astral Plane, so she couldn’t have escaped.”

“That- that-“ the Grim Reaper huffs, annoyed. But the thing about order and the whole lawful side of the spectrum? They thrive on technicalities, and Taako is gonna hold onto that like the literal life-preserver it is. “That doesn’t matter.”

“Uh, I think it does, homie. I didn’t pull anyone out of any astral soup; I just... kept Lup from crossing a line or two. And I think your boss agrees.” Taako gets the distinct impression that he’s being glared at, even with the pronounced lack of eyeballs involved.

“The rules still stand. A life is owed.”

“You can’t have her.” Taako’s own voice goes dangerously cold. “I’m not losing her again.”

“She was dying. Not for the first time.”

“But she didn’t. She’s alive, and you can’t touch her.”

“Scales must be balanced.”

“Or, and here’s an idea: fuck your scales!” And apparently fuck treading carefully.

But formerly handsome skeleton man snorts, and with a ripple of divine magic, currently handsome Grim Reaper is standing before Taako. He looks from Taako to his scythe before letting it go. It doesn’t fall, just dissipates into so much smoke. “There is another option.”

“No, I’m pretty sure we’re good here.”

“Taako, you have your own crimes against the Raven Queen.”

“Pretty sure that would require intent, and let me tell you, I had zero control over the whole dying thing. And the whole suddenly not dying thing.”

“Therefore, I am not obligated to let you go. Either of you. But...” the Grim Reaper slowly extends a hand, the same hand that held the scythe, out to Taako. “One could balance the scales. A life, for a life.”

“Doesn’t sound particularly great for Taako.”

“I will not pursue Lup any longer.”

“Not good enough.”

“You’re bargaining? With the Grim Reaper?” He sounds incredulous, but Taako is already on a roll.

“Lup, Barry, Magnus, Merle-”

“Merle fuckin’ High-”

“Yeah, Merle too, and Lucretia and Davenport. You can’t touch them.” The Grim Reaper retracts his hand, considering. Taako sticks to his magic missiles. “Best deal you’re gonna get, kemosabe,” he says, braver than he feels.

The Grim Reaper extends his hand. And Taako takes it.

Before Taako has the time to think anything other than boy howdy that sure is a clammy one, they’re gone. Or, the world around them is gone. Or, there’s a new world around them. Taako blinks, surprised. You’d think with all his interplanar travel, he’d get used to this sort of thing.

But it’s less that there is a new world around him and more...

The castle around him isn’t exactly the Sea of Souls. And looks about three degrees too friendly to be the Eternal Stockade.

Not to mention, he’s still not alone.

The Grim Reaper looks at Taako. Taako looks at the Grim Reaper.

“What.”

“What.”

“This has to be a mistake.”

“Well then it’s your mistake, my fella.”

“No, this- you should have just gone directly-” There’s an echo of that unearthly divine anger in his voice, and Taako throws up his hands defensively.

“Listen, listen. I agreed with you. Life for, uh, well, six lives. It’s not my fault if you get performance anxiety just dumping someone into the soul soup and somehow fuck that up.”

“Perf- now, listen, I have never in my, in my existence- this is- come on.” The Grim Reaper seizes Taako’s hand, and Taako is dismayed to note that it’s just as cold as the first time. “We’re getting this sorted out now.”

KRAVITZ.

You know, upon meeting her, Taako would have thought the Raven Queen would be too dignified for an exasperated sigh.

But after roughly 23 minutes of discussion between her and the Grim Reaper Taako now knows is called Kravitz, he has no other description for the way she says the latter’s name.

YES, TAAKO TAACO IS GUILTY OF THE CRIMES OF WHICH HE IS ACCUSED.

“Allegedly!”

TAAKO.

“Fine, I died eight times. But not here!”

PRECISELY. The Raven Queen looks back to Kravitz. AND AGREEMENT OR NO, HE IS STILL LIVING. HE MUST STILL ANSWER TO FATE.

“So are you gonna let me go then?” Taako asks, less hopeful and more... just trying to annoy his way into freedom at this point.

A BARGAIN WAS STRUCK.

“So that’s a... a what then?”

It’s Kravitz’s turn for a long, drawn out sigh. “It means, you’re stuck. Can’t go forward, because you’re not dead and fate wants a word with you and all. Can’t go back because we shook on it.”

Taako looks from Kravitz to the Raven Queen and back again. “Horseshit.”

UNFORTUNATELY. NO.

“So how the fuck do I get back to my family?” Taako yells, anger rising and voice bouncing off a ceiling seemingly higher than the night sky above the prime material plane. Where he should be.

The Raven Queen is starting to look like she has a headache. Can goddesses even get headaches? Either way, Taako can relate.

I AM GOING TO CONSULT ISTUS. The Raven Queen looks to Kravitz, who seems to quail under a gaze that says, “I’m not mad, I’m just disappointed.” KRAVITZ. AS THIS WAS THE RESULT OF YOUR ACTIONS, YOU WILL BE RESPONSIBLE FOR HIM UNTIL A RESOLUTION CAN BE REACHED.

“My Queen-“

THIS IS MY DECISION. A pause. RQ OUT.

There’s the slightest ripple through the air, and then the Raven Queen’s throne is empty.

Kravitz lets out a long sigh. Taako feels mildly insulted. By all rights, isn’t it his turn for a long, dramatic, put upon sigh?

It’s quiet for a long moment.

“So... I’m stuck here then?” Taako asks.

“For now. While they... remedy the situation.”

“And I’m stuck with you.” Taako makes his displeasure with the idea known.

“Unfortunately.” Kravitz seems equally unenthused.

Taako sucks his teeth, considering.

“Do you at least have a kitchen around here?”

[givemethatgold]

Fix’er Upper Pt. 5

Pairing: Frankie Morales x F!Reader

Warnings: Mentions of past abusive relationship, swearing, past drug use, alcohol

Word Count: 1.8k

Notes:

Parts ONE, TWO, THREE, FOUR

Your injury, and consequential recovery time, couldn’t have come at a better time. The harvest was done and the apples had to rest before being pressed, which meant Frankie was now free to start working on your home. The work didn’t often require more than two hands so the days found you doing menial tasks being his gopher.

“You know,” Frankie had had to explain to you, “Go’fer this, go’fer that.”

This mainly consisted of you passing him tools while he was swearing under his breath in the attic, or groaning after rapping his knuckles under the sink, or white-faced and clinging to the weathervane on the roof. 

You had discovered Frankie’s sweet tooth on the first day of renovations, not noticing until after he’d left for the day that more than half the cookies you’d baked that morning were already gone. Making sure he was kept happy, you had a new treat ready for when he walked in the door. 

He was a coffee drinker though, and while you owned a coffee press you had never actually used it yourself, preferring tea leaves for your dose of caffeine. You’d tried, the first morning, to make a cup for him. You even googled How to Make a Cup of Coffee? to make sure you didn’t fuck it up. 

You could laugh about it now, but the look on Frankie’s face after he’d taken his first sip made you worry you had poisoned him. He had spat the black sludge out and handed you back the mug with a look of bewildered disgust. Apparently, you needed to grind the beans first, who knew?

An efficient, if not quite comfortable, rhythm had been forged between the two of you over the past week and a half. Frankie would arrive at nine in the morning, scarf down half a dozen treats while discussing the day’s projects. You would run to town in his truck (yours was still at the autobody shop awaiting parts) and buy any supplies that would be needed while he set up the worksites and organized the tools that would be required.

You had added popping into the local café for a large coffee for Frankie and a red rooibos latte with almond milk for yourself. The first couple of days you had bought him a brownie too but stopped after he’d only half-finished the first one and mumbled through the crumbs in his mouth that yours were better. It only took you three days before the owner had your order ready for you before you even walked in the door, five days before you noticed the sidelong glances the little old ladies were giving each other as you walked out.

Small towns, you thought to yourself, rolling your eyes, had the unique benefit and downfall of everyone knowing everyone else’s business. They’d quit with the hardly-concealed smirks if they knew how awkward working with Frankie was becoming.

You had been sure, in the immediate aftermath of waking up in Frankie’s arms while his truck sat in your driveway, that he was never going to speak to you again. The two of you and hopped out and began explaining away whatever conclusions Jacquie and Mark had made. Then Frankie, without even looking in your general direction, told Jacquie to get you inside and have your wrist looked at. 

To his credit, he had taken care of everything regarding your truck for you. The tow truck came and hauled it to the yard, Frankie had commandeered the inspection report and, after calling them out on trying to swindle you into buying unnecessary parts, had ordered what was needed and paid. 

You had, naturally, argued against this but you both knew you weren’t in a position to afford it. Frankie shut down your arguments gracefully, and broke his apparent vow of silence, with a gruff “I’m just doing it so I can drive my damn truck without you changing the radio station.” The absolute charmer.

It was your damn house, though, so you decided you'd talk as much as you wanted and it would be up to him to interact. Either that or you had music blaring from the radio, never playing his favourite country station purely out of spite. 

Never quite sure if he was listening or not, you rambled on about anything and everything. You explained your vision for the house and the plans you had for a greenhouse in the yard. Memories from your childhood were described in great detail, as were embarrassing stories from your year in college. Baking tips, waxing poetic about your love for sunflowers, interesting animal facts, you'd even downloaded a Word of the Day App and made a game of fitting the words into your daily uninterrupted monologues.

It took three days for Frankie to break.

You had been reminiscing about your trip to Disneyland as a child when he abruptly cut in, voice muffled due to the nails being held between his lips.

"You never talk about it."

You assumed he was referring to the little all-day nap you’d shared in his truck, as it had yet to be spoken of, but were taken aback by the slight accusatory tone.

"Talk about what?"

He took so long to reply, you started to think that he had interrupted purely to shut you up. The silence demanded an explanation though, so you kept your mouth shut and waited.

Clambering down from the attic, where he had been strengthening the trusses throughout the sagging section of roof, Frankie pinned you with his gaze and softly repeated himself.

"You never talk about it. The time in your life when you were married." He must have seen your hackles rise because he quickly set down the hammer and held his hands up in a placating wave.

"You still haven't answered my question about being in the army," was your quick response, finished with an ever-so-mature, "so there."

With a resigned sigh, Frankie twisted his hat around backward and scrubbed his hands across his face. "Come on" -waving you towards the patio doors- "these kinds of conversations require fresh air and a drink."

Reluctantly you followed him outside but rather than sinking down onto the porch swing you opted to lean against the post facing it. Opening two ciders, which you now had free access to, you handed one to Frankie and watched him over the top of the bottle.

Half of your drink was gone and your mind had wandered to greenhouse and flower garden placement before Frankie spoke again. His voice low and quiet catching you by surprise.

"Yeah," he broke the silence with another ragged sigh, "I, uh, I served. Started in the Air Force, worked my way up to Special Tactics Squadron. Made enough noise there to get recruited to Delta Force."

"Oh, fuck," your exclamation was soft with shock "you've seen some shit then." Blast your runaway mouth and its inability to wait for your brain to catch up before blurting out your inner thoughts. "I'm sorry!-"

"No, it's okay" Frankie interrupted, trying to reassure you and remove the horrified look that had come across your face. 

"No, no, that was totally uncalled for. Brad, my um, my husband, he was a Marine. He hated talking about it, said no one liked talking about it. I should have known."

"It's not that," Frankie reassured you again, "You were the first person to ever ask me about it, in all the time I've lived here. Just took me by surprise."

Leaning over in the swing, Frankie pulled out his wallet from his back pocket and handed you a photo from inside it. Five men beamed up at you. You could recognize them from a few of the photos that had rested on Frankie's mantle, they looked older in this one.

"Tell me about them?" you asked, knowing that most of the request was due to curiosity but a small part of you hoped that if you kept him talking you could avoid the subject of your marriage.

The sun was beginning to set and you'd long moved inside to eat dinner by the time Frankie was done sharing. It must have been cathartic, you mused, for him to bare this much about himself. He had never looked more relaxed in all the time you'd known him, which wasn't saying much and it could just as easily been due to the amount of alcohol thrumming through his system.

The room fell into a companionable silence, each of you digesting the information that had been revealed. You were in awe of the fact that, despite the life of violence he had witnessed, Frankie still maintained his humanity. Even after a messy divorce and lost custody battle, Frankie continued to choose the path of healing. He was clean, was fighting for shared custody of his daughter again, running his own business, and still had found time to endear himself into the town's hearts.

Frankie was, for all his sharp edges and gruff words, a sweetheart.

It put into stark comparison how Brad had reacted to the lemons life had served him. Born into an upper-middle-class home, the only son, doted on by his parents, Brad had been raised into a life where every door was open to him. Despite this, or maybe because of it, he had grown hateful of those weaker than him. He was controlling but had just the right amount of charm to pass it off as caring.

"I've met men like that," 

You nearly jumped out of your skin from surprise. Looking at Frankie with wide-eyed shock you wondered again what the hell was in the cider. This was the second time you'd poured your heart out to a virtual stranger, but this time you hadn't even realized you'd started speaking your thoughts aloud. 

Squaring your shoulders and holding Frankie's gaze you continued, almost challenging him to find someone worse than Brad had been.

"He made me quit college because he said he wanted to start a family. Then berated me and acted like it was all my fault every time the pregnancy test came back negative. You know what that asshole did?" Tears were threatening to fall but you held on to Frankie's gaze, "He had gotten a vasectomy months earlier. I didn't find out about it until after he died; going through paperwork that had been stored in his desk."

Frankie was up on his feet now, pacing around the kitchen island, too distraught to keep still. How could anyone be so cruel? Let alone be so cruel to someone as sweet and pure as you. He hated seeing you cry but knowing you weren't receptive to people being in your personal space, wasn't sure how to comfort you. 

Acting on pure instinct he grabbed the kettle and started preparing you some tea, not allowing himself to ruminate how he knew which flavour you preferred. Setting your favourite pottery mug in front of you, along with the little honey pot, he also decided to grab the fluffy throw blanket off your couch. 

"I get it now," he thought to himself offhandedly, "why women have so many fuckin' blankets and pillows in every room."

Placing the throw around your shoulders he was preparing to say goodnight and let you have some peace but was stilled by your hand reaching up and covering his.

"Please. Stay."

Part SIX

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[powdermelonkeg]

Missing Links: A New Hyrule

This story has a prequel called Secrets in the Breeze! Go check it out!

My Missing Links

Wind took a deep breath, savoring the scent of the breeze as blew by. It had been awhile since he'd smelled salt in the air.

It was good to be back near the ocean.

One by one, the other heroes came through the portal, which shut behind them with a blue flash. Hyrule looked at Wind curiously. "Do...you recognize this place?"

"Nope!" Wind spun around with a bright smile. "But we’re near the sea! That’s always a good sign!”

“I beg to differ,” Legend muttered, taking note of his surroundings.

It wasn’t much. They stood atop a cliff that overlooked the sea-bordering countryside, with a sparse collection of villages tucked into the nooks of the nation. But what caught the pink-haired hero’s attention most was the network of golden roads that stretched across the land, leading towards a grand tower far inland.

In the shadow of the massive building stood a castle; one the young man immediately recognized, which threw the whole tower into proportion.

It was...big.

“So, here’s the plan.”

The redheaded man slapped a map against a tree, stabbing it through with his hairpin to keep it in place. He snapped his fingers, and the circuits of his prosthetic hand lit up in timeshift blue. “We came in here,” he said, drawing a glowing X over a place in the north of the Forest Realm. “The loser that stole my control slate ran off, and we got lost chasing him. So now we’re down here.” He circled Whittleton Village.

Fox watched the hero explain with wide eyes, fixated on his glowing fingertips.

“The guy could be anywhere,” he continued. “HOWEVER, if he knows how to calibrate it right, he probably has a map updated on the slate. And if he knows what the slate does, which he has to in order to pull a stunt like he did twice in a row, then he’d head for Hyrule Castle.” Taps drew an arrow towards the castle and tower in the distance. “We’ve already lost a day just getting out of Lost Woods. He’s probably way ahead of us if we travel on foot. But if we use one of the minecart guardians people drive around here...” He traced his finger along the minecart tracks that stretched across the land. “We can probably beat him there, as long as we catch one within the next couple hours.”

He spun to face his companion, clicking the drawing rune off. “Any questions?

Fox’s hand shot in the air. “Mr. Link? How does your arm work?”

Taps gave him a flat look. “Timeshift-powered output core.” He gave his prosthetic a solid pat. “Sheikah tech. Not what we were talking about. Any relevant questions?”

“...Well...” Fox rubbed the back of his head. “The...guardian things...they take passengers, right?” He looked at the hero with big eyes. “So, don’t they charge rupees?”

Taps paused. He hadn’t considered that. “...We can stow away.”

“Absolutely not.” The Hytopian put his hands on his hips sternly. “These people have lives to live outside of us. It’s wrong to steal labor from them.”

“They’re not GONNA have lives to live if this timeline gets screwed with by my slate!”

“Then we should get money fast, shouldn’t we?”

Taps’ eyes narrowed, and he crossed his arms. “I didn’t exactly bring my wallet with me when I got yanked through time and space. You plan on selling your extra clothes for it?”

Fox gasped in horror, hugging his bulky luggage. “Never!”

“Well then. Not that big a problem, is it?”

Fox bit his lip. “...Give me one hour,” he finally said. “If I can’t earn us enough rupees for a trip by then, then we can talk about stowing away.”

Taps rolled his eyes. “Fine.” He held up a metal finger. “You’ve got one hour.”

Legend walked along the strange track, examining the golden triangles beneath his feet as he followed the rails. The power in them tugged at his attention, no matter how hard he tried to look away.

What were they?

“Hey.” An elbow dug into his shoulder. “Hyrule to Link, are you there?”

Legend side-eyed the offender crossly. “No.”

“Well then,” Warriors replied, smirking. “I guess that means I get your share of lunch.”

“You touch my apple pie and you find out exactly what my medallions do.”

“Ouch. Touchy.” He followed Legend’s line of sight down to the ground. “Must be an interesting road.”

Legend nodded, looking back at the tracks. “They’re...powerful,” he said, gesturing to them. “They radiate magic, and they feel...Hylian. Like they’re alive.”

Twilight shuddered. “I certainly hope they’re not,” he said, giving Epona a pat. “The last thing I want to worry about is living roads.”

WOOOOOOOOOOOO!!!

The Chain jumped in unison at the loud sound, attention forcefully torn from the Spirit Tracks at their feet.

Off in the distance, blurred by a shimmer of heat, a steam-powered machine charged down the tracks at breakneck speed. With a frown, Twilight whipped out his Hawkeye mask to get a better look.

It was HUGE; it had to be at least as tall as three horses standing on top of each other. As it rounded the bend and headed towards them, he got a good look at its segments—a house, a tray, and a cannon?

Twilight squinted, adjusting the mask’s scope. “What in Farore’s name...”

“What is it?” Time asked, raising an eyebrow.

“...Some kind of mechanical caravan.” Twilight concluded after a moment of thought, lowering the mask. “And it’s not stopping. We should move.”

WOOOOOOOOOOOO!!! 

“NOW.”

Quickly, the group got off the tracks, giving them a WIDE distance.

As the steam-powered beast approached, it let out a shrill, screeching noise, causing the heroes to clamp their hands over their ears in pain until it finally rolled to a stop with a pressurized hiss.

Time slowly lowered his hands, shaking off an involuntary shiver at the redead-esque noise. “Everyone alright?”

Hyrule groaned, rubbing his ears sorely. “I think I finally feel bad for DIgdogger...”

“We’re fine,” Four answered. “I’m going to have a headache for the next week and a half, though...”

“Tell me about it...what even WAS that?” Wind asked, scrunching up his eyes as he popped the pressure in his ears.

“‘Hoy!”

The seafarer suddenly snapped to attention at the familiar greeting.

“’Hoy!”

Link leaned out of the engine cab and waved to the band of...soldiers.

They had to be soldiers, right? They had swords and armor. Maybe there was a ceremony or something coming up.

One of the group, a young-looking boy in blue, waved back to him. “‘Hoy, stranger!”

“Everything alright?” Link called. “You look kind of...lost.”

The group looked between each other. “We kind of are,” another one said, a heavily-scarred one with a long ponytail. “Can you tell us where we are?”

“Just west of Whittleton. Where are you trying to go?”

“Hyrule Castle town,” the most heavily armored one replied. “Is it far from here?”

Link looked the group over critically. “...Not really. It’s a 20 minute ride by train. Can I ask who you guys are?”

“An orchestra!” The kid that had initially greeted him exclaimed.

“...An orchestra.”

“Yep!” He pulled out his baton. “See, I’m a conductor, and he’s got a harp, and he’s got an ocarina...”

“What are you playing, then?” Link said, raising an eyebrow.

“Uh-”

“Song of the Hero,” the friendly-looking one in the white cape supplied. “It’s a classic.”

“...Right.” Link held back a sigh, feeling like this was going to be trouble. He could just leave them...

...But this was Bulblin territory. He’d feel bad.

He could just tell the guard captain to be on the lookout once he got to Hyrule Castle. That’d keep them in line, right?

“...Do you guys want a lift?”

The train ride was such a change from walking everywhere. Granted, it had been difficult to convince Epona to climb into the passenger car with them, and Legend was sharing a VERY uncomfortable stare with a fluffle of rabbits gathered at his feet. But, for the vast majority of the heroes, it was a chance to rest their legs and watch the scenery fly by.

And it was incredible.

The only comparable thing Wind had seen in his travels was speeding around on Linebeck’s steamboat, and even that required him to be focused on not running into barrels and sandbars.

This, though? It was smooth. The train ran in a straight line, zooming by acres and acres of land without so much as a bump in the wrong direction, with endless ocean through one side of the car and towering mountains through the other. Thinking fast, he pulled out his pictobox and snapped a few shots as he went along.

When the train made its first stop, the screeching sound was notably more bearable through the barriers of the cabin walls. It still made Hyrule wince, but it was a far cry from the veritable scream they’d had to endure before.

As it finally came to a full stop, the engineer that’d picked them up peered into the cabin. “Nobody get up yet, we’re not here. I’m just picking up some more passengers.”

Time raised an eyebrow. “You do this kind of thing often?”

The stranger gave him a deadpan look. “Nope. Never in my life.” Without another word of explanation, he shut the door.

Time stared after him, taken aback.

Had he just....been sassed?

A moment later, the back door of the cabin opened, and two new passengers entered.

“I told you I could pay fare!”

“Yeah, yeah. Still think we could have saved money.”

They sat in the back seat, bickering quietly and, to Legend’s relief, attracting the fluffle away from him. As the train resumed its travel down the road, he found himself listening in to their conversation.

“-plan once we get there?”

“We start looking. Duh.”

“That’s it? That’s all you’ve got?”

“Look, if someone uses it, we’ll know. It’s not exactly an easy thing to- ...hide.”

Curious at what had made the newcomer trail off, Legend looked back at them over his shoulder.

The redhead—the one who had ended the conversation—was staring at Wild in shock.

The pink-haired one, on the other hand, Legend recognized instantly. His head spun; the Chain had only just gotten the means to time travel themselves, how had the Hytopian guy with the friendship tokens-?!

Feeling Legend’s gaze on him, Fox looked up, unnerved, then froze in shock as he came to the same conclusion Legend did.

I know you. You shouldn’t BE here.

Suddenly, the train heaved, throwing everyone out of their seats. The once-smooth ride came to an abrupt halt as the train derailed, skidding across the raw ground with a terrifying SCREECH before grinding to a halt and tilting precariously. Twilight and Wild both scrambled to grab Epona and brace her as the car finally tipped, landing on its side with a crash.

Silence hung in the air for one brief, panic-laced second.

Then, in an instant, the redheaded stranger shoved his companion out the back door and vaulted over the cabin seats, barreling into Wild and leaping for the front door. As Wild was abruptly yanked out of his daze, he spotted the Sheikah Slate in the thief’s hand before the redhead made his escape.

Fox stared at Taps as he ran outside. “What are you doing?!”

“Shut up, I’m focusing!” Taps said, frantically clicking through the slate. “Where is it, this layout is atrocious-”

“Did you just steal the-”

“He had my control slate!”

“They had SWORDS!”

“So do we!” Taps stopped on a screen, and sighed in relief. “Finally!” With a blue flash, he summoned his Divine Beast, wasting no time in clambering on board. “Come on, get on!”

“But my clothes-”

“HEY!”

The two time travelers looked over as Wild emerged from the train car to shame mankind, eyes blazing with fury as he raced towards them.

Fox squeaked in alarm, quickly leaping onto the Divine Beast and clinging to Taps. “Drive, DRIVE!”

Wild did his best to give chase as the duo sped off, but his mortal Hylian legs couldn’t keep up with the ingenuity of Sheikah technology. Before his very eyes, two complete strangers fled into the distance with his Divine Beast.

Link picked himself up off the ground, clutching his ribs in pain as he raced back towards his toppled train.

He had so many people on board, he had a horse back there. If any of them were hurt—

Without a moment’s thought for himself, he threw the cabin door open. “Is everyone okay?!”

Everyone jolted, reaching for their weapons in panic, when suddenly, there was a yelp of pain from the back seat.

Sky clutched his stung hand as he dropped the Master Sword, staring at the engineer in shock.

“You’re...one of us.”

[bitsandbobsofwriting]

Soulmate AU part 2; Things drastically change for the better:

Arthur and Merlin’s relationship develops, Uther becomes increasingly annoyed at his failed attempts to control them, Leon continues to have heart palpitations over trying to protect them, and Morgana thinks the whole thing is hilarious.

Part 1   Part 3 Part 4

So that conversation... happens.

To say it was awkward would be a MASSIVE understatement.

Arthur and Morgana spend the whole time answering Uther’s questions, so much so that Merlin barely speaks (he wasn’t great at keeping secrets, so he wasn’t too mad at them for answering for him) and Uther spends the whole time trying and failing to assert his dominance over his two dumbass kids (but they aren’t having it).

Eventually Merlin did speak up, quietly saying:

“I, um... I’m really sorry to interrupt Sire, My Lord... uh... Your Majesty Sir-”

Morgana smirks slightly and covers her mouth with her hand, Arthur rolls his eyes and squeezes Merlin’s hand, and Uther looks upon the whole scene with barely concealed bewilderment:

“-uh... my mum is waiting for me, and I’m usually not gone for this long so... could I... I mean would you mind if I... went?”

Uther looked even more taken aback at that. As much as this whole conversation had been based on Merlin, he hadn’t actually processed the fact that he was a whole person who would have family and places to be and a life outside of being The Prince’s soulmate.

He nods his head slightly and purses his lips:

“Right. Of course. Arthur said that you lived outside of Camelot?-”

He doesn’t wait for an answer before continuing:

“-Well I’m afraid that that is unacceptable. You are the soulmate of the Prince of this kingdom, inform your family that you are to move here as soon as possible, preferably before the month is out.-”

At Merlin’s wide eyes and Arthur and Morgana’s scornful faces, he waved his hand:

“-Don’t worry, housing and anything else that you will require will be provided by the Crown.”

Merlin still looks a bit dazed and surprised at his demand, so Arthur replies instead:

“Father, Merlin and his mother have a life in their village, you can not just demand that they pack up and leave everything behind to live here.”

Uther looks annoyed at this, but patiently (or as patiently as Uther is able) retorts with:

“Well he was going have to move eventually. The two of you are only a few years from being of age, and you can not possibly live in separate kingdoms when that happens, especially as you are Crown Prince. I’m allowing this... bond... to continue, but we are still royalty, and rules must be followed.”

Morgana goes to argue this time, but Merlin tugs her sleeve slightly and says quietly:

“It’s alright ‘Gana, he is right, I was going to have to move here eventually anyway. This way you finally get to meet my mum, and we’ll get to see each other more often. Mum won’t like it, but I know she’s missed Gaius, so it won’t be too bad, and I’ve always sort of wanted to explore the city.”

Morgana and Arthur stare at him for a few moments whilst he looks between them. Arthur sighs before replying:

“Fine, but only if you’re sure. And take your time, don’t pressure your mum into leaving right away, OK?”

Merlin nods, and everyone at the table stands, stepping back.

Uther mutters that they are dismissed, but watches as they say goodbye to each other. He furrows his eyebrows in interest as Morgana hugs Merlin, mentally noting that he doesn’t think he’s ever seen her smile that widely before.

When Arthur embraces Merlin, much tighter, and for much longer, a hand cradling the back of the peasant’s-... of Merlin’s head, and a soft, but powerful smile on his face, Uther forgets for a moment the distastefulness of the situation, and revels in the feeling of pride and happiness; his son had found his life partner. 

The King sweeps any thoughts of his late-wife from his mind, and drops the small smile gracing his face, but not before Morgana spies it and tilts her head at him, giving him a teasing smirk.

The boys whisper something that Uther can’t hear, and Merlin steps back, giving him a quick bow and an awkward wave, before disappearing into thin air. A familiar pop echoes around the hall, and a few gold sparks fall silently to the floor.

Arthur and Morgana bow to him very briefly, before turning and leaving the room without another word, arm in arm.

Uther stands alone in the room for a moment, sighing before muttering to himself:

“This is going to be a bloody nightmare. Public announcement. Before that I have to tell the council. And I have to figure out how I can legally make these people nobles, to justify everything-”

He looks to the ceiling, sighing once again as he says:

“-Gods give me strength.” Before turning and sweeping out the room.

~

The moment Arthur and Morgana leave the room, they turn to each other and burst into slightly hysterical laughter, sputtering about “the look on his face” and “oh my gods, *sire my lord your majesty sir* ” between breaths. 

The whole situation was unexpected, but to be perfectly honest, they didn’t regret it; they knew that the longer they waited before telling Uther, the bigger the problem would be.

Morgana straightens up after a moment, wiping tears from her eyes, before whipping her head around to Arthur in sudden panic:

“Oh my Gods, Arthur. Leon.”

Arthur’s eyes widen, and he curses suddenly before taking Morgana’s hand and running towards his chambers. They almost ran into multiple people, Nobles who tutted, and castle staff who jumped out of the way, not even having time to bow before the two teenagers were out of sight again.

They loudly burst into Arthur’s chambers, out of breath, to see Leon pacing a groove into the floor:

They stand with their hands on their knees, panting, but before they can say anything, Leon rushes to speak:

“Where on earth have you been?? A guard said you were in a meeting with the King all afternoon, what happened? Is Merlin ok?? They wouldn’t let me in, so I came back here to wait but-”

Arthur held up a hand to stop him rambling, and gave him a comforting smile. The Prince straightened up, and took one last deep breath before saying:

“Sorry, for worrying you Leon. But you are not going to believe what just happened...”

Morgana starts laughing again, and with that, the two of them shut the door behind them and explain in great detail what had happened, how Merlin had just appeared and Uther had freaked, and Gaius and Geoffrey had to be called, and how funny the look on his face was when they’d explained. 

Arthur had wanted to skip it out, but Morgana gleefully insisted on recounting just how much she and Arthur had ordered Uther around, and how he’d just taken it.

By the end of their explanation, Leon had collapsed in a chair, looking very pale, and a lot like he’d aged twenty years.

He holds his head in his hands, fingers messing up his curls, and stares at the floor as Arthur and Morgana glance to each other, trying not to laugh at the poor man.

After what seems to be hours, Leon straightens up, and looks to the two of them with a stricken expression:

“I can’t believe that... well I suppose he had to find out eventually but... dear Lord I can’t decide if I’m grateful I wasn’t there or not... oh my Gods I’m going to be demoted, disowned, banished.”

Arthur laughs at that and Morgana rolls her eyes at the man’s panic:

“Nothing’s going to happen to you Sir Leon, don’t panic. We didn’t mention you, as far as my father is concerned, the only ones who knew were us.”

Leon finally smiles briefly at that, muttering a quiet thank you, before standing up suddenly, looking panicked once again:

“Wait... you said he’d be moving here?? What about his... gift?? He can’t live in Camelot it’s dangerous. You may have protected him from the King for now but... if he finds out nothing will stop him from... nothing will stop him.”

The two of them sighed at that. They had been mentally considering it, but they were just taking it one victory at a time. Arthur replied moments later:

“We’ll just have to be careful. He has to be careful in Ealdor anyway, he’s already a bastard, he had to hide magic from the other villagers because it probably would’ve been fatal for him to give them a second reason to hate him. We can set ground rules when he actually moves here and... we just have to be careful. It’ll be a new life for him and his mother, we can be careful.” 

He says the last bit with a decisive nod, and Morgana and Leon relax slightly. Arthur was right, they’d been fine so far, they could keep it up.

He would never say it out loud, but if his father found out... if he tried to hurt Merlin, Arthur knows without a doubt in his mind that he would give up his inheritance, take Merlin’s hand, and run. Without hesitation.

He would love nothing more than to turn his kingdom into a place where Merlin could be free and happy one day, but until then, he would do anything to keep him safe, even if it meant leaving everything behind.

~

The next few weeks rush by.

Uther had tried to limit the number of visits between Merlin and Arthur, but neither of them were having it, and if anything, they were seeing each other more with the upcoming move.

Hunith did in fact freak out at Uther’s demand of her and Merlin moving to Camelot. For several reasons.

First off, she had a life here. It was difficult, but simple, honest work. The winters were hard, but the summers made up for it. The villagers may have started of being a little cruel to her and Merlin, but they warmed to them when the dark haired boy was nothing but sweet and kind to everyone.

Second off, her son was magical. Both naturally and unnaturally magical. Essetir was dangerous, yes, but Camelot? Camelot was so much worse.

She supposes it had to happen eventually. She didn’t like to think of it often, didn’t want to tempt fate, but her son was the Crown Prince’s soulmate. That meant that one day... he would be married to the King. He couldn’t exactly do that whilst living in Essetir, least of all because the Essetir Crown would throw a world ending fit.

In the end, she agreed to the move rather quickly, at least she would be close to her brother, and she could finally meet Leon and Morgana.

As much as Merlin and Arthur urged her not to rush, she really had nothing to do but say goodbye before they made the journey to Camelot, and the three of them were leaving the village behind them within the month, just like Uther wanted.

Though he definitely hadn’t wanted Arthur to pop away one morning, a full travel pack and a sword on his person, intending to make the journey with them. But in the end, Arthur ended the argument by rolling his eyes (much to Morgana’s amusement) and disappearing before The King could get another word in.

No public announcements had been made (they decided to wait until Arthur came of age), but the council had been informed. They were NOT happy. 

Uther would never admit it, but he did feel a swell of pride when Arthur slammed his hand on the table, and firmly told them that this was happening whether they liked it or not, and if they dared complain instead of help, they would find themselves without a chair at the table, and severely lacking in titles and land.

Uther was relieved when he found out that Hunith was Gaius’ younger sister. Gaius wasn’t a noble, but he was a life-long, close friend of the King, and a trusted advisor. Hopefully that would make it easier. 

The Court Physician wasn’t a title that came with land, or nobility, BUT it was the most respected position in the royal household, below actual nobles.

If Gaius could take Merlin on as his apprentice... then he would be an almost fully trained physician by the time he came of age, and that would be respected. Then at least he would have a role outside of being the Prince’s Soulmate.

It was all coming together in Uther’s mind. Of course it wasn’t perfect. The absolute ideal outcome would’ve been if Arthur’s soulmate had been foreign royalty (if only anyone knew about Merlin’s father...), but he could make do with this. He would have to, if he didn’t want to lose his son and his ward.

~

The day of Hunith, Arthur, and Merlin’s arrival finally comes.

Uther didn’t greet them in the courtyard (it would be unsightly for a King to greet two commoners, even if The Prince was with them) but Gaius, Morgana, and Leon did.

Everyone breaks into wide smiles when the castle gates are opened, Arthur and Merlin rushing forward to meet Morgana and Leon in a big hug, and Hunith rushing forward to meet her brother, whom she hadn’t seen in several years.

There is laughter and hugs all around before Merlin finally steps back and takes his mother’s hand, realising he should probably give actual introductions:

“Mum, this is The Lady Morgana, ward of the King-”

Morgana gives Hunith a wide smile and curtsy, before stepping forward and giving her a brief hug. Morgana was very touch averse with everyone but Merlin, Arthur, and Leon, but in her books, any woman who raised Merlin into the young man he had become, was a woman who deserved her trust. And a hug:

“-and this is Sir Leon, Knight of the King.”

Leon took Hunith’s hand, placing a brief kiss on her knuckles before stepping back respectfully. Hunith quickly followed him, and to his great surprise, wrapped the taller man in a tight hug. He wraps his arms around her after a few moments in shock, when she whispers in his ear:

“Thank you for keeping my boys safe.”

He steps back, a wide smile on his face and his hands on her shoulders. He replies quietly so that only she would hear him:

“It has been my genuine pleasure, and I plan to continue to do so for the remainder of my service.”

Hunith gives him an even wider smile, and pats his hand, before the two of them step back. The others watch on in adoration, before Leon clears his throat and addresses the group:

“I have been instructed to show the two of you to your new residence, before you are to meet with the King.”

Arthur steps back before saying regretfully:

“Unfortunately, Gaius and I should go and meet with my father immediately. Leon, you lead the way, we shall remain with him until you return and we can get this over with.”

He says the last bit with a grimace, and Morgana gives him a sympathetic smile as Merlin squeezes his hand. 

The group separates, Arthur and Gaius heading up the castle steps, and Leon leading the rest of them back out the gates.

Hunith and Merlin had been gifted a small house in the upper city, close to the castle, but not within it’s walls. Arthur had argued endlessly against that, saying they deserved chambers inside the castle, but Hunith was the one who refused.

She wasn’t nobility, and she enjoyed her simple life. She had already given up her farming and livestock, she refused to be cooped up in a giant stone castle where she would have nothing to do, and didn’t understand how anything worked.

Arthur finally saw the sense in that, he can understand that it would be difficult for Merlin and Hunith to live in the castle. He hated to admit it, but they would certainly be looked down on, and Arthur was almost of age, he didn’t have the time to spend all day entertaining Merlin, even if he wanted nothing more than to spend all day every day with him.

The house was small, but still three times the size of their place back in Ealdor. They had separate bedrooms, a large kitchen/dining area, a small storage room, and an extra room for relaxing (”City folk call them living rooms apparently.”). There was a small, fenced off grass area out the front, which Hunith was particularly excited about; she wouldn’t have to give up growing things after all.

The home came fully furnished, and Hunith was speechless at the large, comfortable beds, the soft chairs, and the abundance of cooking equipment. The living room also had a large hearth, and two ceiling-high bookshelves, though they were empty.

Once Hunith had had a good look around (the others had already seen it, and Arthur had been checking with Merlin at every step to see if he approved), Morgana excitedly grabs her hand and drags her back to the slightly larger of the two bedrooms.

Merlin follows confusedly, but Leon follows with a small smile on his face, he had seen what Morgana was planning, despite her best attempts to keep it secret.

Morgana finally stands Hunith in front of the wardrobe and gestures for her to open it. The older woman opens the doors with a little hesitation, before stepping back and gasping, her hands over her mouth.

Morgana grins proudly before speaking to a speechless Hunith:

“My gift to you. I organised a few things for Merlin as well. Of course they’ll all have to be adjusted because I could only pass on to the tailor Arthur and Merlin’s descriptions of you. I thought that could be something nice you and me could do at some point in the next few days, after you’ve settled.”

Merlin steps around Leon to try and see what’s got everyone so wound up, and takes in a quiet gasp at what he sees. The wardrobe is filled with new, tailor made dresses, a few thick cloaks, and two pairs of good quality shoes. Two of the dresses were incredibly nice, royal-gala kind of nice, and the others were a mix of practical, casual, smart. 

He smiles widely, tears in his eyes at what Morgana had done for his mum. He’s always felt a little guilty at being the soulmate of royalty, but not being able to provide her with more than she had, but that changed, starting now.

Hunith finally rips her gaze from the new clothes, staring at Morgana:

“I can’t possibly...-”

Morgana’s tilted head and raised eyebrow forces Hunith to change tracks. The boys have told her how stubborn Morgana was, she has a feeling she wouldn’t be able to return the gifts:

“-I don’t know how to thank you, My Lady.”

Morgana rolls her eyes fondly, and brings her into a hug before stepping back:

“Oh none of that “My Lady” shit, and you don’t have to thank me, you and Merlin are part of the family now.”

Merlin gives her a grateful smile over his mum’s shoulder, which she returns, before Leon speaks up:

“I’m sure you can find time to get them all properly fitted in the coming days Morgana, for now we should get back up to the castle. I imagine The King and The Prince are waiting for us.”

Morgana nods, and Hunith subtly wipes her eyes, before allowing The King’s ward to intertwine their arms. Merlin smiles at the sight (he knew they would get along) before turning and following Leon out the house, and back up towards the castle.

Merlin was only a little nervous, he’d met the King multiple times now, and whilst the man was always painfully polite, it was clear that it was only because the whole situation bewildered him a little. But he’d never met his mother yet, and this next meeting would make the rest of his life go very smoothly, or very difficultly.

Leon pauses a moment outside the door to the throne room, glancing back at Merlin, who takes a deep breath before standing straight and nodding.

Leon smiles encouragingly at him, before pushing the doors open and walking into the room.

Arthur, Uther, and Gaius were stood in front of the thrones quietly discussing something, but look up when they hear the doors open.

Arthur smiles widely and walks forward, giving Merlin a brief hug (which Morgana lovingly rolls her eyes at, they’ve only been apart for half an hour) and Uther straightens his back, before walking forwards regally, a practiced blank look on his face. Gaius gives his sister a reassuring smile, but stays back.

Leon and Merlin bow (Leon deeply, before stepping aside, and Merlin briefly and shallowly) and Hunith curtsied as best she could with Morgana protectively gripping her arm.

Arthur and Merlin stand next to the girls, hand in hand (Uther’s mind bounces between wanting to smile fondly, and wanting to grimace at the PDA), and Uther stops just in front of Hunith:

“Welcome to Camelot, your swift arrival was pleasing.”

Hunith nods, a polite, but strained smile on her face:

“Thank you, My Lord. Anything to make the boys lives easier.”

Uther clenches his jaw, and Morgana has to hide a smirk at the implication that she’d only moved to help out the boys, and not because Uther had ordered it.

“Of course. I hope your new home was to your liking?”

Hunith nodding in reply, the smile on her face a little brighter this time:

“Yes, My Lord, it’s wonderful, I can not thank you enough for providing it. I look forward to exploring your city.”

Uther nods slightly before saying:

“Yes, yes, it’s rather lovely this time of year. The Crown will provide a small allowance for a time, until you can get yourself on your feet. I’ve already discussed it with Gaius, and arrangements have been made for Merlin to become the physician’s apprentice, at Gaius’ earliest convenience.”

“Thank you, I’m sure it won’t be long before I can find work, in such a bustling city.”

Uther nods tersely, before turning back towards Gaius. He waves his hand dismissively over his shoulder as he says:

“I have other matters to attend to for the rest of the afternoon. Sir Leon, Arthur and Morgana, you have the rest of the day off to show our new... residents, around. You’re all dismissed.-”

Leon is the only one who bothers bowing to Uther’s back, and Morgana raises an eyebrow at him, before rolling her eyes and turning to leave, dragging Hunith with her, closely followed by the boys.

Just before Leon can exit the room, Uther turns around hurriedly:

“-Before I forget, Sir Leon, I would like a word.”

Leon turns around after wiping the panic from his face. He shuts the door after the others, who look at him worriedly, before turning around to face The King:

“My Lord?”

Uther settles an assessing gaze on the knight, and Leon has to stop himself from gulping in response. Uther sighs, and speaks after a moment:

“After paying a little more attention to the relationships between yourself, the boys, and Morgana, I have realised something. You obviously knew of this... relationship, long before I did. Do no deny it.-”

Leon does gulp at that, but before he can defend himself, Uther asks:

“Can I trust that it would have been brought to my attention had anything problematic started?”

Leon widens his eyes in shock, before gathering his thoughts and replying, injecting as much confidence in his voice as possible:

“Of course, My Lord. I kept a close eye on them myself, and made sure that the Prince’s safety was my highest priority at all times. Had anything worrying happened, I would have come to you immediately. I am loyal to the throne, My Lord.”

(A big fat lie considering the whole “Merlin is a sorcerer” thing, but the King certainly doesn’t need to know that.)

Uther nods thoughtfully, before meeting Leon’s gaze again:

“Good. I am glad that Arthur has someone looking out for him. I trust you will continue this?”

Leon nods:

“Of course, My Lord.”

Uther nods once again:

“Excellent. Make sure none of... this, interferes with his studies. You are dismissed.”

Leon bows deeply, before leaving the room. He shuts the door behind him, leaning on it and taking a deep breath, before looking up to meet the worried gazes of the others, who had waited for him. He smiles shakily:

“Nothing bad, I’ll tell you later. Come on, let’s show these two around the upper-town.”

Arthur fixes him with a scrutinizing gaze, but Leon meets it (Arthur has yet to win a staring contest against Leon, in fact, Morgana was the only one who ever came close), and after a moment, Morgana shakes her head, and begins to walk down the corridor, the boys trailing after her and Hunith.

They spend the rest of the afternoon showing Merlin and Hunith around the upper-town. The tour leads them around the market, the town square (where the well is) and other important fixtures of the town, such as the tailor, blacksmith’s, and some of Morgana’s favourite shops (Uther hated it, but Morgana and Arthur regularly sneak out of the castle to spend time in the city).

By the time the sun sets, the group is relaxed and getting on well. Merlin knew Morgana and Leon would love his mum, but it was still nerve-wracking, and he was overjoyed by how well it was going.

The kitchen of Hunith and Merlin’s new home had yet to be stocked, so they stopped off at some street vendors before heading back to the house. Hunith tried to argue when Arthur insisted on paying, but she was shut down pretty quickly when Arthur reminded her that he was The Prince, he could more than afford it, and anyway, “I like contributing to the local businesses, I wouldn’t be a Prince if I didn’t have my people around me, I like to give back where I can.”

Leon and Morgana smiled proudly at that, but the smiles on Hunith and Merlin’s face were more fond. 

(Morgana quietly thinks about how differently he would’ve been without Merlin to ground him. With a father like Uther, Arthur easily could’ve turned into an absolute prat.)

They stay together long into the evening, talking and laughing, before Leon finally says it’s time to go. Morgana, Hunith, and Merlin may have tomorrow free, but Leon and Arthur had training early, followed by a day full of meetings.

Morgana smirked at Arthur’s grumbling, but dutifully stood up. The three of them give Hunith and Merlin tight hugs, before leaving them alone, heading back to the castle.

Hunith and Merlin sit in comfortable silence, wide smiles on their faces, before Merlin breaks the silence:

“So what do you think? I know Uther is a bit of a prat, but he’ll want to see as little of us as possible, so it shouldn’t be too much of a problem. Do you... like it here?”

Hunith smiles at him fondly, and runs her hands through his hair when he rests his head on her lap:

“You’ve really made a life for yourself here, haven’t you Merlin? I’m proud of you. Lady Morgana and Sir Leon are exactly how I expected them to be. The house is far more than I expected, but I’m grateful, and I’m sure it won’t take me long to find a job. I’ll always miss our rural village, but nothing is stopping us from visiting every once in a while, to get away from the city, and we have a nice little garden here.-”

Merlin closes his eyes, soothed by his mother’s fingers in his hair, and hums thoughtfully before Hunith continues:

“-You know, I had always considered sending you here to apprentice under Gaius when you were older anyway. Funny, how things turn out. Though perhaps I should’ve realised that nothing was going to go to plan when the little blond boy that appeared in my kitchen all those years ago turned out to be foreign royalty.” 

Merlin huffs out a laugh from when he laid, and responded sleepily:

“Yeah. You know I don’t even think of him as royalty, most of the time. He’s just... Arthur.”

Hunith smiles gently down at him, and takes a few minutes to respond:

“I know what you mean. I’m glad you found your person... or more accurately, I’m glad your person found you.-”

She chuckles, before adding the next bit on quietly:

“-Your father would be proud of you.”

Merlin opens his eyes, and looks up at her blearily:

“You think?”

Hunith’s smile widens, and the both of them politely ignore the tears gathering in her eyes:

“I know.”

~

Time passes quickly. The next day, Merlin, Hunith, and Morgana spend the whole day shopping and stocking up on food and other necessities (the small allowance Uther had provided for them actually turned out to be quite a lot, especially compared to the amount of money Hunith was used to having around).

At some point over the next week, like Morgana had suggested, her and Hunith spent a day in the tailor’s, having all of her new clothes adjusted properly. 

Hunith was also ecstatic to get a job off the back of that. She may not be at quite the professional level yet, but she was the one most of the locals would go to, to fix and patch and re-sew old clothes back in Ealdor.

Merlin started his apprenticeship with Gaius, which meant the days being near, but not with Arthur, were less boring, and slightly more bearable.

He picked up healing quickly (after seeing all the various injuries Arthur and Leon had sustained over the years during training, he was eager to learn how to help them), and he soon became known around town as Gaius’ Boy.

His cheerful demeanour and wide smile endeared him to all of his patients, and he made a point to try and be polite to everyone he came across. Suddenly living in a bustling city, and having what was basically a full time job, was a little overwhelming, but being here meant being with Arthur, so he was determined to make the most of it.

The boys spent the evenings together whenever they could (and still slept in the same bed most nights, out of habit. Merlin’s nightmares had made a brief reappearance after his first meeting with Uther, but they stopped again fairly soon.), and Arthur would often pop out of the castle to share meals with Merlin and Hunith, Morgana and Leon joining them when they had the time.

This did however, involve a few instances of Merlin or Arthur appearing at inopportune times. 

An emergency patient coming in meant Arthur appearing in the physician’s chambers, instead of Merlin’s home, like he had expected. 

Luckily the patient was unconscious at the time. 

(Uther had informed them that the council members and guards who worked in the castle had been informed of the situation (so that Hunith and Merlin wouldn’t be bothered), but the public wasn’t to know at all, at least until Arthur came of age.)

A council meeting overrunning meant Merlin appearing just behind the Prince’s seat, and turning wide-eyed and red-faced before squeaking out a quick apology and disappearing again.

The meeting was side-tracked for a good five minutes as Arthur tried to cover a smirk, Morgana (who insisted she be involved in important meetings when Arthur was) openly laughed, and Uther held his head in his hands, rubbing his tired eyes and muttering something about “stupid kids” and “stupid soul-bonds”.

They tried to be more careful after that incident, and they got better at exploring the bond. With some focus and practice, the boys got fairly good at sensing where the other was, and sometimes, if they were with other people (though that particular sense wasn’t as reliable).

About a month after they moved to Camelot, Merlin was introduced to a lovely girl called Guinevere. Her mother had served Leon’s family, and once she was old enough to have a job herself, Leon swung her a position in the castle as Morgana’s maidservant.

Arthur was oblivious at first (until an amused Merlin explained it to him later on), but Merlin and Leon definitely noticed the... bond, between the two girls, though all four would deny it to anyone who asked, in order to preserve their privacy.

Guinevere, or Gwen, as her friends call her, quickly joined the group. Morgana was grateful for another female presence, and Leon was most certainly grateful for the addition of someone who cared about safety and being careful.

He loved his kids, (”Oh my Gods... I’m a father... how do I... Gaius I know nothing about teenagers, what do I do?? I’m not ready to be a father!”), and Hunith was a good influence, but they couldn’t be around all of the time, and the boys had a bad habit of making trouble, especially with Morgana egging them on. 

He stressed a little less when he knew that Gwen was with them.

~

Shortly after Gwen’s appearance, the group (unfortunately without Leon, he had a patrol:( ) went exploring in the woods beyond the city. Uther was stuck in meetings all day, but Arthur and Morgana had a free day, and after much begging, Gaius let Merlin off as well. 

Morgana having a free day, meant that Gwen had a free day as well (not that Morgana ever made her do many chores anyway, only enough to keep up the pretence that they were Lady and Servant and not... something else).

They put together a picnic, took some horses from the stables, and headed off at first light. It was a warm, summers day, and they planned to spend the day in the sun, Arthur didn’t have to worry about duties, Merlin didn’t have to worry about memorising herb lists and symptoms, Morgana didn’t have to worry about being a Lady, and Gwen didn’t have to mind her place as a servant.

It was planned to be the perfect day, and it almost was. 

After a couple hours journey, they found a beautiful lake, and they spent the morning splashing around in the water, playing and laughing and messing around. 

They spent the middle of the day drying in the sun and snacking on all the sweet meats and fruit that Arthur had snuck from the kitchens. 

They spent the afternoon playing stupid games, and relaxing in the shade, holding hands with no worries, and even sneaking the occasional kiss, revelling in the freedom of being alone.

They were sad to have to leave, but it became an agreement that at least once a month, whilst the weather held out, they would come to their spot by the lake, and relax with each other. No responsibilities, no obligations, no “My Lord”s or “My Lady”s, just four friends, hopelessly happy and in love.

It was on the way home that things went a little wrong.

Usually this stretch of the woods was completely safe and bandit free, but the group was not so lucky as to have an eventless journey home.

When they were about halfway home, Merlin halted his horse suddenly and sat up straight, letting go of Arthur’s hand and tilting his head, eyes closed, listening to the woods around him with a frown on his face.

Arthur looks back and frowns, before calling to the girls, a few metres ahead of them, to wait for a minute.

He looks to Merlin, still with a frown on his face:

“Merls? What is it?”

Merlin waves his hand in Arthur’s direction, gesturing at him to be quiet. He is silent for another few moments, before he opens his eyes wide, and speaks in a low, but rushed voice:

“Gwen, ride ahead with ‘Gana, everyone get your swords out, we’re being watched.”

Arthur tenses at that, and he and Merlin pull their swords out (Leon had insisted that Merlin learn, he wasn’t nearly as good as the others yet, but he could hold his own. Leon was also the one who insisted they be armed when he learnt of their plan for the day.), quickly followed by Gwen and Morgana. 

Instead of riding ahead, Morgana speaks up quickly:

“Gwen can fight just as well as me, I’ve been training her, we should stay together.”

Arthur looks worried, but Gwen just rolled her eyes before adding quietly:

“I’m also the daughter of a blacksmith you know, I’ve been handling swords since before I could walk.”

Arthur sighs and nods, before looking back to Merlin, and quietly, so that only Merlin can hear him:

“How many, and where from?”

Merlin tilts his head away from Gwen, so she can’t see the gold of his eyes, before flexing his hand slightly, and responding:

“Six or seven, I think from the South.”

Arthur nods once more, before turning his horse to be facing South, and he peers into the trees. It wasn’t quite dark out, but it was dimming, and the forest was so thick, the underbrush so overgrown, that it was difficult to see much beyond the edge of the path.

The girls urge their horses back the way they came, to be close to the boys, and stay alert, swords raised, feet braced and ready for action.

Merlin clenches his hands and gasps slightly, before murmuring, loud enough for everyone to hear him this time:

“Twenty seconds.”

Gwen goes to question how he knew that, but a quick look from Morgana, and a shaken head meaning “Later” stops her, and she instead focuses her gaze on where the others were looking into the trees.

Like Merlin had said, twenty seconds later, the treeline breaks, and seven men burst through yelling, and brandishing swords, the shock of which sends the horses scarpering, and the four of them have to jump off and let them go.

Battle broke out immediately, the teenagers aiming to incapacitate or injure, but the bandits not being so kind with their attacks.

The battle is intense, Merlin using little bits of subtle magic here and there to trip or confuse various attackers, Arthur and Morgana slowly but surely taking down men, one by one, and Gwen easily enough holding her own.

But, four, mostly inexperienced (Arthur had only had to actually fight for his life once or twice at this point, and before, he was surrounded by fully trained knights whose top priority was keeping him safe, even to their own detriment) teenagers, aged 15, 16, and 17, were no match for seven seasoned attackers.

In the end, it’s the four of them left (each with bruises and cuts, but nothing serious) vs three remaining attackers, but the battle quickly stops when Merlin turns around (a gut feeling) to see one of the men silently raise a sword, readying to bring it down on to Gwen’s turned back.

He instinctively raises his empty hand towards them, and yells:

“NO!”

He sends the man flying back, head hitting the tree behind him with a thwack.

Gwen stares at him (or more accurately, the golden glow of his eyes) in astonishment, and Morgana and Arthur use the momentary distraction to deal with the last two attackers, giving them swift knocks to the head.

Morgana rushes forward to Gwen and tugs at her shoulder, trying to get her attention to see if she’s ok, but she ignores her just staring at Merlin.

Merlin drops his hand, and his face morphs from anger to shock to fear, the gold in his eyes fading back to blue as Arthur reaches his side and takes his hand. 

Gwen finally stutters out a:

“What... you’re... but Uther?-” before wiping the shock off her face, and setting it in grim determination, clenching her jaw.

Merlin’s eyes widen at her expression, and he takes a fearful step back, Arthur steps in front of him and Morgana tries to grab Gwen’s arm as she begins to stalk quickly forwards, but it slips from her grip.

Arthur holds his hands out, and begins to speak, seemingly trying to talk her out of hurting Merlin, but she ignores him, and pushes him to the side with surprising strength.

Merlin gasps and tries to take another step back, tears in his eyes, but she grabs his shoulders and, before anyone can say anything more, pulls him into a crushing hug.

Merlin takes a few moments to respond, clearly not expecting such an affectionate reaction to being discovered as an evil sorcerer, but hugs back at Gwen’s watery “Thank you.” whispered in his ear.

Arthur lets out a breath, and he and Morgana smile, not really sure why they were so surprised at Gwen’s acceptance. I guess that’s what happens when you grow up in Camelot, expecting hatred and violence and fear in response to magic is ingrained in you.

Gwen finally pulls back, and takes Merlin’s hands, the both of them have tears on their faces, and Gwen sniffs before quietly saying:

“I’m sorry that you have to live in fear, and I’m sorry I wasn’t clear enough in my adoration for you that you felt you had to be scared of my reaction. I promise to keep you safe, to the best of my ability.-”

She fondly punches him in the arm, before continuing with a smile:

“Next time, you can just do that right at the beginning, and save us all the trouble, yeah?”

Merlin nods slowly, before pulling Gwen into another tight hug. He buries his face in her neck, and she runs her hands through his hair and they both quietly weep.

Arthur and Morgana both feel the strong urge to step in, and comfort their own soulmates, but they resist, and instead give them a moment of privacy as they round up the horses, and search the bandits.

After a few minutes, Gwen and Merlin pull back, and walk towards the other two, holding each other’s hand comfortingly. 

Whilst searching their unconscious bodies, Arthur hadn’t found anything identifying, but had found a length of rope in one of their discarded bags, hidden in the underbrush.

He cuts the rope into separate pieces and ties the bandits up, to individual trees, before looking back to the group:

“This won’t hold them long at all, but we don’t have the means to transport them back to the city. I can get my father to send a search party to look for them, but by the time we get back to the City, and the Knights get out here, they’ll probably be long gone.”

Morgana raises an eyebrow and replies:

“I thought you Knights were excellent trackers. They won’t wake up for a while, and they’ll be dazed, so it’ll take them a while to get out of the rope, if your knots are any good-”

Arthur goes to retort, but Gwen quickly interrupts him:

“That’s not the point. What if one of them remembers what Merlin did? And accuses him? Uther probably wouldn’t take their word against all of ours, but it would attract unwanted attention, wouldn’t it? And, no offense Merlin, but he’s already not exactly fond of you.”

Arthur nods at that, and Morgana hums thoughtfully, whilst Merlin just stares at her in shock. He speaks up after a moment:

“We could loosen the knots, and wake them up a little before leaving? That way they’ll have plenty of time to escape before the knights get here? But we have to report it. The types of men to attack four teenagers, none in armour, and two of whom are women, need to be warned about.”

Arthur and Gwen look troubled at that, and Arthur speaks up first:

“Morgana is right though, the Knights are brilliant at tracking, what if they find them anyway? I won’t risk one of them remembering what you did.”

Merlin looks annoyed, always the one to sacrifice himself, and Morgana furrows her brows before looking up, and speaking slowly:

“You could... over exaggerate how violent they were? Request a kill on sight order? That way, none of them make it back to testify, but they’re also no longer a problem for travellers.”

Arthur tilts his head in surprise, and Gwen widens her eyes at the suggestion.

Arthur looks like he’s genuinely considering it, when Merlin gasps:

“Oh!! Wait! The other day, I read about a spell. It’s like a memory charm, I can make them forget the last ten minutes or so, if it works, and we time it right, they’ll remember attacking us, but not how the fight ended!”

He has a grin on his face, but Morgana and Gwen look doubtful, whilst Arthur looks thoughtful, before speaking:

“Have you tried it before? Do you know it would work?”

Merlin turns a little pink, before looking to the floor, and saying:

“Well... do you remember agreeing to let me try it on you last week?”

Morgana grins as she realises the implication of the question, and Gwen gasps as Arthur’s eyes grow wide, and he shakes his head slowly:

“...No.”

Merlin finally meets his eyes, with a nervous smile on his face as he says:

“Then yeah, I’ve tried it before and it worked fine.”

Morgana and Gwen start laughing as Merlin bites his lip and Arthur blinks a few times, before speaking again:

“...Ok, you cast the charm or whatever, I’ll make sure the ropes are done tightly, then we’ll wait for one of them to wake up, to check that it worked, then we’ll leave, and send a patrol back to arrest them.”

With the girls still laughing in the background, Merlin goes to the three attackers who had witnessed him perform magic and cast the spell, whilst Arthur double checked all of the bindings.

The group only has to splash cold water on the face of one of the attackers for him to cough himself awake. He looks around, clearly bewildered, and yells:

“What?? How the fuck... what did... how hard do you hit, kid? Jeez, how the fuck did I-”

He’s cut off by Arthur hitting him in the head again with the hilt of his sword, before he steps back and says:

“Ok. It worked. I think it’d be best if we got home as quickly as possible, we’re already going to be late.”

With that, the group takes one last cursory glance (and fill with pride at the idea that they’d managed to fight off a group of thieving murderous bandits all on their own) at the bound bandits, before mounting their horses, and urging them into a gallop towards Camelot.

The report to Uther was definitely intense, The King was furious that a group of violent criminals were attacking citizens, especially women (though Arthur made sure to point out that Morgana fought just as well as him, and Gwen held her own just fine) so close to the city.

He immediately sent out a large patrol to scour the woods, focussed especially around the path they used, and to not come back until the seasons changed, or the criminals were found.

Arthur was right, the ropes hadn’t held them for long, but he was also right in saying that Camelot Knights were excellent trackers, and they were hunted down within a week, and brought back to Camelot for sentencing.

Arthur and Morgana tried to speak against it, at Merlin and Gwen’s request, but Uther ultimately sentenced the offenders to execution, for crimes against the Crown and Citizens of Camelot, and didn’t question why they couldn’t even remember half the fight.

In fact, that actually had Uther praising the group for fighting well, and he begrudgingly admitted that Morgana’s sword lessons (which she had been ruthlessly demanding since she was a child) and Guinevere’s subsequent training, had paid off well.

~

THE END OF PART 2

Wow so I finished this way quicker than I was expecting, I just really love this concept, thanks anon, for requesting :)

Anyway, hope you enjoy gang

[equestrianwritingsstuff]

Ooh! I just discovered you from the Bad Things Happen Bingo and I love your writing already! Could I potentially request the Bleeding Out prompt as a prequel for the Soup for the Sick story you wrote?

Thank you for the ask! I had to look up prequel to make sure that you meant before the events of Personalized Caretaker Part 1, and not after 😂. Here you go! In reference to this post.

So, with that note, this piece happened before Part 1 of Personalized Caretaker.

Personalized Caretaker Part 2

Part 1

Warnings: blood, vomit, losing consciousness, faking an injury, drugged whumpee, fear, implied touch starvation

*not edited*

~

Civilian hopped onto her couch, legs resting on the armrest and flicked on the television, going straight for Netflix.

It was a normal day, serene and tranquil with the perfect amount of work that made Civilian feel good inside.

She lazily gnawed on a piece of beef jerky and selected The Kissing Booth for personal enjoyment. Something cheesy and romantic to vibe to as she decompressed- even the best days required a period of relaxation.

But, her period of relaxation was very rudely interrupted by a thud. Right outside her door.

Civilian froze, heart racing, as her mind involuntarily replayed every known horror movie. She was the victim, the bad guy was going to break in and slash her throat as she unceremoniously says, "Who's there?"

Civilian shuddered, turning off the television, and slowly standing up. She grabbed her remote control as a weapon and very, very slowly, like a ninja, stalked stealthily up to the door.

"Who's there?" Civilian asked. Crap, her fatal flaw. Now the bad guy was going to rush out and murder her, then the police would come and there would be ten more killings and then there would be a ghost that was a moaning lady with pale skin and black hair that was hung in the woods seventy-some years ago and then it is reincarnated to be a doll that haunts children and-

Civilian drew in a deep breath. Don't freak out, don't freak out. It was probably a bird that weighed the size of a man- a bad man- that crashed into the window and died. And died. And died. And died. It was gone. Instead of using a remote, she should be using a plastic bag.

"Stop it Civilian, you paranoid freak," she yelled at herself, very loudly, her voive taut with utter fear as she peered through the shades.

The first thing she saw was blood.

Smeared blood in the direction of downwards, leading directly to...

A body.

Civilian felt nausea rise in her throat as literally the blood drained from her face. She wasn't the first victim, the poor human in opening credits, she was the next victim and her house was the killer's stash.

Probably to blame her for the death. To redirect the suspicion.

She had to hide the body and burn it before the cops came. Oh boy, the killer probably already called them. Crap crap crap.

Civilian whisked the door open, tossing her grand weapon of plastic and onto a nearby table, and prepared to wrap the body in a black bag.

The body moved.

Civilian screamed.

The body was not a body, it was a living man.

"Oh my gosh sir? Sir! Are you okay? Sir! Sir!" Civilian grabbed her hair and started to paced. "This can't be happening. This can't be happening. There is a bleeding man on my fricking doorstep." She started to ramble, muttering nonsensical curses and words that weren't going to help the dying man.

She was panicking, completely hyperventilating, by the time the man moved more than a shaky, uneven breath.

His eyes opened, revealing a drop-dead gorgeous icy blue. Eyelashes fluttered in the most enearding way as the man struggled to keep his consciousness to himself. Lips quivered as he whole face bunched together in an expression of pain.

Civilian didn't know if she could handle it.

"Are you doing to die?" She asked, rushed and abruptly. The man looked his clouded gaze on her. It took a moment, but he spoke,

"Heroes. Heroes, they are coming. Run, get outta here. Get outta here!"

Civilian shrieked, glancing hurriedly around. An insane plot twist, the good guys were the bad guys and...

Wait, this wasn't a movie.

And why was this man so scared of the heroes? Unless, of course, he was...

A villain.

Civilian covered her mouth and dropped to her knees. A v-v-villain? Was at her door? Civilian pinched herself to see if she was sleeping, but the nightmare didn't vanish. She was stuck in reality. Someone go get her a soda...

Villain's eyelids drooped as he weakly extended his arm. "Please," he begged. "I need help." Then his arm went slack.

Civilian was close to hysterics.

But nonetheless, out of fear, she grabbed the man's arm and attempted to pull him inside. She silently cursed. Her twigs for limbs could barely carry a box of mason jars; what made her think she could drag a two hundred pound full-grown adult male?

It was a taxing project that left Civilian in tangled limps, just begging for sleep. The man didn't stir at all, not even when Civilian's fist went into the gaping wound in his stomach.

Aw man, that was disgusting. Civilian vomited into a nearby trashcan before returning to figure out WHAT THE HECK TO DO!!!

"Can you wake up?" Civilian asked. "Please? I-i... how do I... how do I do this?"

Civilian was on the verge of tears, but then she reminded herself. This isn't a movie, he won't be miraculously healed after a good night's sleep.

With a quick reference to Google, Civilian finally felt prepared. She ran to get a pillow and slipped it under Villain's head. His eyelids fluttered as his eyes cracked open, but then they slipped close again.

Next she removed his shirt and was quite awestruck at the sight. Other than the painted crimson, his abdomen really was the definition of ab-domen. Hard muscles were lined perfectly.

Okay Civilian, someone is dying, don't admire it.

She placed one hand above and the other in the wound to staunch the bleeding. After the blood flow slowed, she lifted his legs to rest on the armrests in a similar position that she was in earlier.

Next, she jumped some hydrogen peroxide in and bandaged the wound. The villain never awoke.

Once the looming danger was gone, Civilian just stood there awkwardly. Dried blood crusted on his skin, but at least it wasn't wet.

So she stood there, arms crossed as meaningless thoughts rushed through her head.

What do call a male ladybug?

Is grass the earth's hair?

Do pineapples come from pine trees?

Why is a villain on my couch?

Civilian sat down, keeping a good three feet distance from the assumed murderer, and turned on the TV to resume her movie.

She leaned her head back, exhaustion tugging at her eyelids, but she refused sleep. Especially when a villain was slumbering next to her with one arm over his face.

He looked like a monkey.

One of those pale faced, brown haired primates from Curious George.

Not that his ears were splayed out or anything, the monkey had very tiny, collected ears that hid under his fluffy brown hair. His nose also held that itty-bitty appearance, perfectly formed to his face with the faintest trace of freckles.

He was cute.

Like a monkey.

Or not, as Civilian found monkeys utterly disgusting.

So cute, like a kitten.

Civilian smiled, looking down at her lap. Another thing Wikihow said that Civilian scowled at and ignored before. Put the victim's head in your lap to calm and keep them comfortable.

It wouldn't hurt, right? The villain wasn't even conscious, and he lost so much blood that he probably wouldn't remember anything if he did wake up.

She just met him.

Stress can increase heart rate which may be detrimental. Civilian scrunched her forehead. Was that even true?

Who cares. Civilian scotted her skinny self over and laid the villain's head in her lap. Then, temptation started its charismatic monologue.

Stroke his head. Be nice, clean his chin. Wipe the dirt off his eye.

Civilian hesitantly put her hand on his grimey hair- ew, he needed a shower ASAP- and gingerly patted it. Patted it, like petting a dog.

It was embarrassingly awkward.

For the next few hours, Villain slept. Civilian also dozed off between getting yummy smelling candles to fend off the revolting scent od blood and crackers to aimlessly gnaw on.

She watched through the first Kissing Booth and the second one when a thought struck her.

Pain.

The villain would be in pain when he woke up.

And the only thing Civilian had was Ibuprofen.

Like those barely took the edge off a headache, much less a gash the size of a baseball.

She reached for her phone to call her friend at the local drug store. Putting on a squeaky voice, Civilian said,

"Can you, uh, get me something for pain?"

"Slow down, Civilian. What?"

"I don't know benadryl or a very strong pain reliever," Civilian bit her lip, squeezing her eyes shut. Stupid stupid stupid...

"What did you do?"

"I, uh, sprained my ankle."

"You sprained your ankle?"

"Mhm hurts like-"

"Okay! I don't need your swear word dictionary. I'll bring you something after work."

"Thanks, oh owowowowowowo."

"Goodbye Civilian."

The line clicked.

Civilian smiled to herself and popped another cracker in her mouth. Problem solved.

The blood on the door.

Crap.

Civilian set Villain's head back on a pillow and ran to the frontdoor.

Great, just great.

Civilian flipped the middle finger at Villain's sleeping figure and walked out the door. She would meet her friend before she saw the splatters of blood.

Civilian sat herself on the curb, throwing her newly "spraind" leg out, letting out an insanely loud groan, and leaned back on her elbows.

"Oh my goodness! Civilian," her friend leaped from her black car and ran over. "Are you okay?"

"Yeah, yeah," Civilian waved it off. "Just wanted some air and the house is a mess, so."

Civilian, you are dumb.

"You sure? You asked to be hospitalized once because you stubbed your toe and the fact that a sprained ankle isn't bugging you... I am wholeheartedly worried."

"Don't be," Civilian chuckled. "How was work?"

Friend gave her a skeptical look. "Fine," she drawled.

"Good," Civilian nodded slowly, tapping the ground with her fingers. "So thank you for the painkillers."

"Mhm," Friend handed Civilian the plastic bag slowly. "How did you sprain it?"

"Uhhh fell out of the shower."

Friend looked genuinely concerned.

"Tripped and fell," Civilian repeated herself awkwardly. "On the ground?" Why did she have to say it as a question?

She was awkward and sounded hilariously awkward as well.

"Klutz," Friend joked, but her face was still taut with worry. "Need help getting inside?"

"No no!" Civilian exclaimed. Friend stepped back, so Civilian laughed to alleviate the tension. "I should walk it out."

"Ooookay," Friend said, nodding. "Good for you. I'm gonna go. I have a dinner date with this dude from Tinder."

"Oooo good luck," Civilian said, faking a wince as she stood up. Friend rushed in to help.

"Don't," Civilian cautioned, raising her "hurt" leg up. Friend looked at it and scowled.

"Dang leg huh? Well bye-bye. Don't fall out of the shower anymore. Got it?"

"Yup," Civilian said and fake limped back to her house as Friend sped away.

Missiom accomplished.

Villain was stirring when Civilian sat back down.

Perfect timing also.

She rummaged through the bag and grabbed a bottle of valium. She popped the recommended dosage out and approached Villain.

He was still too dazed and disoriented to stop Civilian from helping him swallow, but the second the water touched his tongue, he woke up fully.

"What are you doing? Don't touch me!" He yelled, pulling away. Civilian also backed away, a frown forming on her face.

"Me? I saved your life."

Villain was silent. "How much did you touch me?"

"Enough to save your life."

Villain jerked, looking around as if somone was in the shadows. Paranoid, Civilian copied him.

"What's wrong with you?" Civilian asked.

"You touched me?"

Civilian didn't say anything. She crossed her arms and shifted her weight to one leg, examining the villain.

Villain jerked to his feet, swaying madly. Civilian's heart jumped. He was so unsteady...

He fell, but Civilian swooped in to catch him.

For a moment, the villain melted into her half-embrace, head resting gently on her shoulder, before pulling away. He bit his cheeks, seemingly trying to keep tears back.

"What... are you? Are, are you scared of getting a hug? Sheesh."

"Mmm no," Villain shook his head quickly, then sat down as if the feat made him dizzy.

"Mmm yes," Civilian sat down next to him. The villain looked confused, but that may be the drugs kicking in.

Soon Villain's eyes starting to droop and he swayed in his sitting position.

"Whatdya give me?" He slurred, a faraway look in his eyes. "Mm tired." He collapsed forward.

Civilian steadied him and helped him lay back down. He groaned pathetically and grappled at Civilian's hand, desperate to hold it.

He held her hand until he fell asleep.

[mattmurdocksscars]

Heaven Part 1

Here it is! This is part 1 of Heaven! It’s based loosely on (and uses lyrics from) Heaven by Julia Michaels. 

Rating: M for Mature. There’s violence, mentions of blood, reader gets in a pretty sticky situation with a guy who won’t take no for an answer and gets injured but nothing more. Also, mentions of a gun. Next part will be E for Explicit for NSFW stuff 😘

Working at Lennox House as a bartender was no easy task. The men couldn't keep their hands to themselves and catcalled often, every night was busy, and just the sheer nature of the business turned your stomach. But a job was a job and at least you weren't one of the call girls. You had to give a portion of your tips to the club, but you still always made out with plenty of money. A smart move would be to set aside as much as you could and find a new job when you had a good savings, but there was something about Lennox House… something that called to the darker part of you. 

You knew what, or rather who, it was that kept you there, but you buried that knowledge deep within you. 

Late one evening, or really, very early one morning, you were cleaning up the bar following the show. The club was empty, all patrons long gone for the night and the other workers off to bed. Thinking yourself alone, you sang aloud to make the time pass faster. Little did you know, someone was awake and upon hearing you, mosied his way into the theatre to listen. Blue leaned against the wall in the shadows, watching as you wiped down the bar.

All wrapped in one he was so many sins

Would have done anything, everything for him

And if you ask me I would do it again

You sang well, your voice projecting through the open area of the house. It surprised Blue. You were a spitfire, always had been, and it was one of the reasons he hired you as a bartender. You could keep the patrons in check without involving the guards most of the time and were a damn good bartender. But hearing you sing so sweetly made him want you. Licking his lips, he opened his mouth to interject but stopped at the next lyrics that tumbled out of your mouth.

They say, "All good boys go to heaven"

But bad boys bring heaven to you

"Do you want heaven brought to you, Scotch?" He took pleasure in the way you jumped, looking around wildly before your eyes settled on him as he walked towards you. Still in his silk suit, hands in his pockets, he looked exquisite in the darkness of the empty club. You found yourself looking him over appreciatively before you remembered he had asked you a question.

"I'm sorry, sir. What did you ask me?" You watched as Blue smirked, finally reaching the bar. He leaned easily on it and let his eyes roam over you with no shame. 

"I asked… if you wanted heaven brought to you, Scotch?" He purred and you felt your breath catch. 

Blue was gorgeous. There was no doubt about that. You would also bet all of your tips from that night that he would give it to you good. But the real question was could you lay with a man like him? One who only cared for his money? Who beat and even killed people? Your body might be okay with it, but your mind was still very much in control. With a soft sigh, you pulled yourself away from him and grabbed your bag from under the bar.

"Maybe I would but my mama raised me to know better than to deal with bad men, Mr. Jones." The man merely chuckled, watching you.

"If that were the case, you wouldn't be workin for one, sugar." The pet name rolled off his tongue and you had to suppress a shiver.

"Ah, but here's the difference, Mr. Jones. It's one thing to work for a bad man… and another thing entirely to trust him." Blue feigned a hurt look at your words but before he could say anything, you were moving towards the exit. "Have a good rest of your night, Mr. Jones." 

You left Lennox House that night with your shoulders squared and head held high. You wouldn't show Blue the effect he had on you. 

But oh, did he have an effect on you.

~

Over the next week, you barely see Blue. Not unusual but a part of you wishes to see him more. Ever since the night he propositioned you, you can’t help but to wonder what it would be like. To touch him, kiss him, taste him… You shake your head hard to clear your thoughts and get a few strange looks from the patrons at the bar. You just flash them a flirty smile and they let it go, already uncaring that you might be a little crazy. The club was extra busy that night and the men cared more about being served than they did about you. Or so you had assumed until the end of the night when a man approached you, a creepy and salacious grin as his face. Your skin immediately crawled at the sight, and you made sure to stay behind the bar. 

“Hey, sweet thing. Blue says you’re s‘posed to come with me tonight.” He slurred his words hard and was clearly drunk off his ass, but his words had you narrowing your eyes angrily. Blue and you had made an agreement when you took this job. You were not to be bartered to the men.

“Yeah, that’s bullshit. If you’d kindly leave, I’d appreciate it. Don’t make me call the guards.” This seemed to only anger the man who rounded the bar before you could get out and backed you against the back counter. You tried not to gag at the alcohol on his breath and made a mental note to pay more attention to how much customers were drinking.

“You think you’re sooo fucking special, don’t you?” He reached for you, grabbing your arms painfully tight. You fought against him, bringing your knee up into his crotch and punching him hard when he released you. You shoved past him and made a break for it.

“HEL-” Your call gets cut off by a cry of pain as the man caught up to you and yanked you by your hair.

“You BITCH!” He yelled before turning and throwing you back to the bar. You stumbled hard, trying to catch yourself on the shelving only for it to come tumbling down on you and sending you and the bottles to the floor. Glass shatters everywhere and you cry out again as several pieces slice open your skin. 

“What the FUCK is goin’ on here?!” You gasp at Blue’s voice and hear the man start to stutter out some kind of explanation. You manage to shakily stand, looking at Blue with wide, wet eyes.

“This asshole… said you told him I was supposed to go with him and I told him no.” Blue’s eyes darken even more in anger and he growls. 

“Scotch, come here.” You step around the glass as best as possible and over to Blue. You’re immediately shocked as he pulls you to stand behind him and reaches into his jacket, pulling out his gun. 

“Get. Out.” Blue growls. “Get out before I blow your brains out over the fucking floor. And don’t think for a fucking second that you aren’t gonna pay for all of this.”

The man watched Blue with wide eyes before scurrying off, disappearing out of the main area. As soon as he was gone, Blue turned to look at you. You were staring off after the guy with terrified eyes and you didn’t realize you were shaking until Blue carefully set a hand on your shoulder.

“Scotch. Look at me.” Your eyes snapped up to his and you blinked up at him. “You’re safe now. He can’t hurt you anymore, okay? Let’s go get you cleaned up, sugar.”

You let him lead you out of the auditorium, passed all of the rooms, even his office. When he finally stopped in front of a door, it was one you didn’t recognize. He pulled a key from his jacket pocket and opened it, leading the two of you into a bedroom. Blue carefully leads you into the ensuite bathroom and helps you to sit on the counter. He kneels down and roots through the cabinet, pulling out a first aid kit. You can’t help but to raise an eyebrow before laughing. It’s a little hysterical but Blue looks at you in amusement.

“What? Can’t I keep a first aid kit in my bathroom?” He asks, smirking.

“I’m sorry. I’m sorry, I think I’m just finally losing it.” You giggle and he chuckles softly, setting the kit on the counter beside you. He opens it and begins looking through it, pulling out some gauze pads and alcohol. Your laughter dies down as you realize he’s fixing to use those on you.

“Since the glass was technically already in alcohol, can we just forego that step?” You try. The look Blue shoots you is thoroughly unamused and you sigh, accepting your fate. Blue is surprisingly thorough and cleans each of your cuts. Some of them require bandages but none of them are deep enough to need stitches. When he finally finishes, you’re exhausted and all you want to do is sleep. As Blue works on cleaning up the mess you two made, you lean against the wall and close your eyes. You don’t even realize you’ve dozed off until Blue sets a hand on your leg and you startle awake.

“Sorry. I should get out of your hair. Thank you for helping me, Blue. I mean it.” You look up at him from where he’s moved in front of you. He’s biting his lip and seems to be thinking something over. He seems to come to a conclusion when he steps closer to you, placing his hands down on either side of you.

“Stay here tonight.” Your eyebrows shoot up and you look at him in shock.

“What?”

“Stay here. I’d feel better if you didn’t walk home tonight. You can have my bed, I can sleep in my office.”

“I- Blue, I can’t do that. I can’t kick you out of your bed. I can walk hom-

“Scotch, please.” Now you’re really shocked, mouth dropping open as you look at him. He hesitates for a moment before leaning forward and letting his forehead drop onto your shoulder.

“Please stay. Nothing has to happen. Like I said, I’ll even sleep in my office-”

“Okay. But I’m not kicking you out of your bed. I saw it on the way in, it’s big enough for us to share.” You bite your lip, gently squeezing his upper arm. “If that’s okay with you, that is.”

Blue stays where he is for a couple more moments before straightening up and nodding to you. He helps you down from the counter and leads you back into his room. 

“Do you wanna borrow something to sleep in?” He asks, scratching the back of his neck. 

“Uh, yeah. Please” You scrunch your nose up, suddenly realizing your clothes have blood on them. “I don’t want to get blood in your bed.”

“Thanks for that.” Blue chuckles, digging through a couple drawers before handing you a shirt and some sweatpants. You duck back into the bathroom and change, the clothes not quite fitting right but well enough to sleep in. You pad back into the room to find Blue already laying in bed and walk over to turn the light off. You take a deep breath before laying down next to him. The both of you are as close to your respective edges of the bed as possible, trying to give the other the space you think they need.

“Thank you. Again. For everything.” You murmur. You hear Blue shift and something about it helps you settle down yourself.

“You don’t have to keep thankin’ me, Scotch. But you’re welcome. Goodnight, sugar.” 

“Goodnight, Blue.”

The two of you manage to slowly drift off, shifting throughout the night until Blue is curled around you, holding you close to him.

Tag List: @tinygaydemonbby @damerondjarin @pascalz @anetteaneta​ @autumnleaves1991-blog​ @spider-starry​ @iamthe-shadow-on-the-wall​ @aellynera​ @revolution-starter​

[zodiyack]

In Regards Of My Stupidity

Pairing: Niklaus Mikaelson x Female!Reader

Warnings: Swearing, angst, fluff

Words: 1,670

Summary: Left alone in his empty castle with guilt, memories, and Hayley and his siblings’ words of advice to keep him company, Klaus hopes to reconcile with the woman he loved and betrayed.

Note: I suck at words.

Taglist: @matth1w​, @redspaceace-writes​, @fandom-puff​, @jenepleurepasbaby​, @darling-i-read-it​, @simonsbluee​, @sebastianstanslefteyebrow​, @dpaccione​

Masterlist | The Originals Masterlist

Part One. Part Two. Part Three.

He attempted many ways of apologizing without having to verbally admit anything. Klaus wrote a letter, then two, then three, then four, then gave up when he’d ripped out every page in the notebook out of frustration with his lack of words. Then he tried thinking up some form of speech, one he could memorize then recite to her. He fantasized of preforming it with the ending of her running into his arms and them riding of into the sunset to live their happily ever after again.

But even that was a bust. He couldn’t think of anything, nor could his mouth agree with his brain. Each word seemed to contradict one another. Every replacement he made for the words that clashed only had the same affect. He tried and tried until all the words jumbled up into a heap of disappointment.

“I’m sorry.” He muttered softly, like Y/n could hear him even though she wasn’t there, as he rubbed his forehead. All Klaus wanted was his wife back but to do so, he needed to apologize, which meant admitting quite a lot of things. It became a challenge. Especially with Klaus being as stubborn as he was.

To atone for everything he’d done wrong under the influence of Aurora would require something much greater than just “I’m sorry”. Allowing Aurora the power of having him under her influence at all deserved thousands of apologies greater than those two meek words.

He needed to think.

Klaus went outside, breathing in the New Orleans’ air. He felt much more at peace, but not because he could breathe the fresh air. As he closed his eyes, listening to the gentleness of the serene night, controlling his breathing and taking in the world with an empty mind, he imagined his happiness, his home.

“Do you like it?” Klaus snuck up behind her, placing his hands over hers on the railing, lacing their fingers, and leaned into her. She rested her head back onto his shoulder.

“I love it.”

1918 was a good year. It was the one before his father drove them out of New Orleans. He’d been proud of the town they’d made, and he promised Y/n that it was there that they would reign. She kept him grounded, and for the first time in forever, he was ready to be the good brother.

He lifted his arms, lifting hers as well, and wrapped them around her frame, holding her closer. Craning his neck, he peppered kisses along her neck before reaching her ear and whispering, “It’s ours, my love.”

She moved her head to face him, causing him to move his own back a bit in order for them to make eye contact. “Are you being serious? I swear, Klaus, if this is some bloody joke-” He chuckled and cut her off by pressing his lips to hers. Her words were almost instantly forgotten as their lips molded together passionately.

The need for air separated them but gifted Niklaus the opportunity to speak. “I promise you, love, I’m being serious. This,” he let go of one of her hands and extended his newly freed arm to the world around them, “this is ours. It is mine, and it is yours. This is the place where we shall be safe from harm forever. It’s a place we can finally call, home.”

He promised her New Orleans was a permanent setting. Only a year later, Mikael showed up and turned his promise to shit. Y/n assured him with a teary eyed grin that it would be alright. Pressing kisses to his face and reminding him that they were alive, she promised it wasn’t his fault. He’d asked what they were going to do and she merely smiled.

She told him they’d wing it.

The apology was ready, but not in a sense he had confidence in. He left his home feeling a lack of fortitude but continued forward nonetheless. It was time he owned up to the promise he lovingly made long ago and atoned to the mistakes he blindly made recently.

Klaus decided he would wing it.

“Niklaus.” Elijah greeted emotionlessly. “I’ll retrieve Y/n.” He returned inside but didn’t come back out. Instead, Y/n took his place, but stood further from Rosseau’s than he was to avoid them hearing their conversation.

“It’s nice to see you ag-”

“Please,” she couldn’t bring her eyes to his, at least, not that very second. They were so full with her sadness threatening to seep out in the form as little droplets that would slide down her skin. “Just...get on with it.”

He understood the lack of ill-intentions behind her words and urgency. A calming breath filled, then left, his chest. And then, he obliged. “I...I was uh...I was dumb and... And I should’ve been a better husband and...” His nerves destroyed whatever bravery he had left in “winging” his apology. Sweaty palms, dry mouth, shaky hands and butterfly filled stomach, how was he ever going to get through this?

Moments had gone by and the tension grew thicker. He could see that Y/n began to grow annoyed, understandable with his drawn out stalling. Klaus had to say something. Preferably something that wouldn’t worsen his situation.

But he was Klaus.

“I understand that I hurt you-”

“Understand that you hurt me? You have yet to even ask me how I felt! You can’t empathize with something you only know one side of.”

Her words were true. The only thing he could think to say were her own words, too far late too matter though. “H-how did you feel?”

“You want to know how I felt, Nik?”

“Yes.”

“Let me ask you this; have you any idea the pain it caused me to even think about moving on from you? Hayley told me it was more than likely going to happen one day and that I should try when the time comes that I feel as though the ache of not having you in my life is too much for even me to bear, but I cannot picture myself with another man. I cannot fathom a life in which I am wrongfully torn from you, or torn from you at all, generally speaking.”

“Does that-”

“No,” She winced and clenched her eyes shut, “Klaus.” She opened her eyes and made eye contact with him. He saw the sorrow that drowned in her e/c orbs, and his heart broke a little more. “That does not mean I’m willing to just forgive and forget. I want to be with you again, I want to be by your side forever and always, just like I vowed to be but-”

“We can go home-”

“Can you just listen for one fucking second!” She cried out, disbelief strewn across her face. “I have been by your side whenever you needed me to be, even in times where you were too pigheaded to admit that you needed someone. I may never be confident in my ability to brave life without you, but hopefully, I never have to.”

A sigh left her mouth, “So...if you have something to say, do so now...please.” Their eyes reconnected as she waited in anticipation for him to speak his mind.

“I...I don’t...” He couldn’t think of anything. “Just...please, come back with me?”

She scoffed and turned away, eyes red and face scrunched with pain. He fucked it up more. She believed in him. She believed he’d fix it. And so did he.

Then, faster than the speed of light, it hit him. It hit him like a bus, or an anvil over his head like in a cartoon, a lightbulb over his head and exclamation points around his noggin. “Wait!”

Y/n paused but didn’t turn to face him.

“I- I don’t need you to come back with me. I don’t need to go there with you either. I just need...to be with you.” He shrugged with watery eyes and a shaky voice. “I was stupid, blind and mulish. Cowardly, if you will.” He threw his hands up then let them drop to his side.

“I will never forgive myself for hurting you, even if we move on from this, some part of me will always carry the guilt of every time we quarrel. It is unlike us to be so far gone for so long, however, it has opened my eyes to see...” he sucked in a breath, “to see that this time, among all others, I did the unforgivable.”

Klaus sped in front of Y/n, catching her off guard slightly. He took her hands in his. Though she didn’t fight him, she still avoided his eyes. “When I married you, I vowed to be there for you, through thick and thin, I vowed to be loyal and trusting and honest, just as you have been to me, but I failed you. I failed you, love, when I did the worst thing a husband could do.”

“Well...” she laughed lightly, sniffling through a few fallen tears, “it wasn’t the worst, but it was a fucking shit thing to do.”

They chuckled together and her eyes finally met his. “I love you, Y/n, I really do. I look at you and I see the woman of my dreams, my world...I promised you New Orleans was our home, but, when I look at you, I see my true home. Not some silly little place from a time in history, but the woman who I want to spend my immortality with. The woman whom I never deserved yet was chosen by, of all people, to spend her immortality with.”

“And I’d do it again.” She smiled sweetly, drawing a smile of his own. “Even if you are a stubborn bastard,” he held a sheepish grin, “I still love you.”

Even if Mikael ruined Klaus’ promise of a home, he learned that the promise wasn’t about New Orleans. Taking a poetic turn, he came to the realization that she was his home, and he, hers. And now, he was finally coming home.

[s-creations]

Oh, That Imagination

Kids will always have active imaginations. But how the adult handles it depends on what the child is afraid of.

Fandom: DuckTales 2017 / The Three Caballeros         Rating: General Audience         Relationships/Pairings:  José  Carioca/Donald Duck/Panchito Pistoles Additional Tags: Growing up, Uncles with their Nephews, Facing Fears, Worries, hunting a creature, Krampus (character), giving a speech, watching a scary movie, protecting the boys, the passing of time, names OCs.

Part of a Series Called: We’re the Three- Sorry, Six Caballeros!

Author Note: I finished Student Teaching and passed my Content Test, so I’m getting back into writing! I do have a new job lined up for the school year. We’ll see how consistent I stay with uploading. XD

“Unca Donald, Unca Donald, Unca Donald!”

 Even with the loud warning call, Donald still staggers when something blue collides against his leg. “Dishes! I’m doing dishes. Go and sit on the counter please.”

 6-year-old Dewey gave a quick nod before clamoring up. The older duck impressed by how quickly the duckling could climb. 

 “Now, what can I help you with?”

 “Benny said there’s a-a monster living in the sewage of Duckberg! I wanna go catch it!”

 Donald let out a low hum as he washed the soap from the glass. This was twice in two weeks that neighbor Benny had told some story about some ‘creature’ they had seen. Dewey, always on the lookout for new adventures, ate each story up with determination and gusto.

 “I see, very interesting. What does this monster look like?”

 “Like...Like an alligator. Only bigger!”

 “Ooooh, that sounds scary. And you’re going to catch them all by yourself?”

 “Yep!”

 “Well, aren’t you brave. Are you going to bring them back to be studied for science?”

 “I’m gonna do it to rub it in Huey’s face. Cuz he says the creature isn’t real. But I’m gonna prove him wrong!” 

 “It sounds like your afternoon is full.”

 “It sure is! Oh, wait, I wanted to ask you if we have a large net that I could use?”

 “I don’t think we have a ‘large’ net. You’ll have your bug catching net.”

 Dewey let out a contemplative hum. Hand resting on his cheek while his pointer finger tapped out some unknown tempo. A habit he picked up from José. “That’s not great. But I suppose it’ll have to do.”

 “Look at you compromising. What are you going to use as bait?”

 “Do we have any old lunch meat?”

 “No and you’re not using what we have in the fridge.”

 “You’re ruining the search Unca Donald! I need bait.”

 “How about you take Tio Panchito with you? He had to help his grandpa search for farm animals when they got out of their pens. Didn’t have to use bait to get those animals back.”

 “Tio worked on a farm?” Dewey’s eyes lit up hearing this new piece of information.

 “Spent a few childhood Summers there.”

 “What did he do?”

 “Why don’t you go and ask him? I’m sure he would be more than happy to share stories with you and your brothers.”

 “Okay, bye Unca Donald! I’m gonna learn about cows!”

 Donald silently laughed as Dewey raced out of the kitchen. Childhood stories continued during dinner and only ended when the triplets were put to bed. 

 “So...should I question why Dewey furiously ran at me this afternoon? All while screaming his demands for me to tell stories?” The rooster asked as Donald joined him and José on the living room couch. 

 “Apparently, Benny had seen some ‘creature’ in the sewer system. Dewey determined that he was going to hunt said being down. I told him you would help in the search because you’ve helped with finding lost farm animals. That caught his attention and now you know the outcome.” Donald sighed as he leaned against the other, relaxing. 

 “Do you think the thrill of the hunt will call out to Dewey tomorrow?”

 “We’ll see.” Donald replied back simply.

 The hunt did not call out the next day. Dewey focused on creating a backyard zoo, he didn’t have time to worry about some creature. A few days later, a pet iguana was rescued from the neighborhood sewers. It appears Benny had actually seen something. It just wasn’t the towering creature he’d claimed before.

 ________________

 The holidays were busy for all the adults in the household. Donald focused on getting the shopping done and holding down the fort while the ducklings raced around during their school break. Gleefully talking about Santa and what present they’re excited most about. José would be gone for weeks on end leading up to December 25, helping with numerous flights to make sure he had that day off. Starting from October through December, this time saw Panchito with booked weekends of different performances to help get other families into the festive feeling. 

 Even with having busy and exhausting schedules, they made sure to make time for the triplets. Baking, decorating the house, helping them pick out gifts for the other family members. Every year it was the goal to keep the ducklings as happy as possible.

 Which is why Panchito became worried when 7-year-old Louie started acting...strange. Almost what the rooster would call ‘stressed’.

 The duckling had started being overly helpful around the house. Doing more tasks than what would be required. Going out of his way to ask if he could help. And, most worriedly, he’d become quiet. Not in his normal way of just relaxing in front of the television. But almost fearful that he was being listened to by some unseen stranger. Eyes even darting around as he moved through the apartment. 

 Unfortunately, Panchito wasn’t able to approach this possible problem until a weekend late into the duckling’s break. 

 The rooster let out a sigh as he collapsed onto the couch. Thankful that he was done until the New Year’s celebrations he had the coming weekend. But he was able to relax for the rest of the week to celebrate Christmas. Cautious footsteps drawing closer caused Panchito to open his eyes. Finding Louis standing nervously in the middle of the room.

 “Hola Louie, what can I do for you?”

 “Um, do you need me to get you anything?”

 Panchito raised a brow. “No, I’m fine. Why don’t you join me until dinner’s ready?”

 “Oh, um, that’s okay. Maybe I should see if Uncle Donald needs any help.”

 “You’re on break. Why don’t you just sit for a while?” The duckling frowned, eyes darting around before settling onto the couch. Still tense. “So, how has school been? I haven’t heard you and your brothers talk about it for a while.” 

 “Uh...good.”

 “Just good? ...Try out any new schemes lately? I know Uncle Donald isn’t so thrilled when you do that. But you always have such clever ideas, makes me laugh.”

 “Nope, I’ve been good! No crazy plans from me!” 

 Panchito sat up a little more when Louie started shouting at the ceiling. “Okay Louie, what’s going on. Are you feeling okay? Did something happen at school?”

 The duckling dressed in green wrung his hands as he peered around. 

 “...Abby told me about the Krampus…” Louie eventually whispered.

 “The who?” 

 “The Krampus! He’s the opposite of Santa Claus! A big creature with long horns and wears a cloak! And he comes after bad boys and girls! He takes them away in his large, greasy bag and they’re never seen again and-” 

 “Okay, Louie, come here. You’re getting yourself worked up.” Panchito easily and quickly moved the duckling onto his lap. Wrapping arms around the smaller form to help keep Louie grounded. “Breath with me. We’re going to take a few deep breaths, okay?”

 Louie gave two quick nods. They remained this way for a few minutes, Panchito holding the duckling close and controlling his breathing for Louie to follow. The rooster only pulled away when Louie had calmed down enough to talk. “Okay, so, you were told a scary story. Why are you worried?”

 “Because he goes after bad kids and I know I’m...not good.”

 “Why would you say that? You’re a wonderful kid!”

 “But I get the most detentions and I’m lazy and I know I don’t do my homework when I need to and-”

 ‘Louie… Yes, we would like you to work a little harder than what you do now.  But you’re not bad. You...take risks. You have a point of view that I’ve never seen before. You’re a clever kid. And, well, between you and me.”

 Panchito leaned closer. Louie’s eyes widened with curiosity. “You fight the system and you don’t let them beat you down.” 

 “...Does that mean I don’t have to wash the dishes?”

 “Don’t push your luck. What I’m trying to say is that you’re not bad. You just think differently than others. Plus, if you’re this worried, this might be a sign you should help out more. But I doubt any Krampus will come after you.”

 “Really?”

 “Really… Also, you know your uncles and I would beat up any creature who dares try to hurt you.” 

 Louie laughed. Beaming and squirming as Panchito placed a kiss on his cheek. Christmas Day arrived with no mysterious creatures knocking in their front door. Louie was still safely tucked away in his bed. Joining his brothers with running out to the living room and unwrapping presents. Curling next to Panchito as all enjoyed the afternoon glow while watching a marathon of movies.

 ________________

 Huey took to the Junior Woodchucks like a duck to water.

 From day one it became a large part of his identity. He carried his handbook around with him everywhere. Writing his own notes and entries to add to the already thick volume. Gleefully patting his knees as he patiently waited for whatever uncle was going to take him to the weekly meetings. Even learning how to iron his uniform to keep it in tip top shape. 

 Dewey may complain that the eagerness was annoying. But nothing seemed to damper Huey’s spirit.

 Until Huey was tasked to write a speech. As he was top ranked among the troop, he was given the honor of addressing the new member that would be joining that year. A banquet being held with the duckling presenting a speech of his own at the beginning of the event. The duckling was absolutely thrilled at first. Telling everyone he could about the great honor bestowed onto him. 

 All in the family thought he would triumph over this just like many other things in his life. 

 José was humming softly one evening, making his way to the kitchen when he heard sniffing coming from the bathroom. The door opened a crack and, taking a risk, José peered in. He found 8-year-old Huey, curled up by the tub and far away from the door. A stack of paper was at the duckling’s feet. Red rimmed eyes glaring at said stack. 

 “Huey?”

 Said duckling’s head snapped up hearing José. Wiping his eyes frantically. “T-Tio José…”

 “Criança doce, what is wrong?” José  entered, leaving the door open in case Huey wanted out.

 The duckling sniffed weakly. “...I’m scared.”

 “Of what?”

 “My speech…”

 José frowned, knowing how excited Huey had been only a few days ago. “Can you tell me what you are scared about?”

 Huey let out another sniff. His hand starting to hit the side of the tub as time went on. Which José put a stop to by reaching out to take the duckling’s hand. “I’m scared...that people are going to laugh at me. I keep practicing my speech to make it perfect and I read a bunch of tips but… All I can think about is messing up and people mocking me. Then my scout leader will see me as a failure and strip me of my badges and-”

 The parrot pulled the duckling closer, humming a lullaby softly. Huey instantly clung to José, burying himself away in his guardian’s chest. It took a few minutes before the duckling finally relaxed, slumped against the older, hand still keeping a good grip on José's shirt. 

 “Huey, I would like for you to listen to me. Can you do that for me?” José received a nod, “I will help you with your speech. But you have nothing to worry about. Your scout leader seems to be nothing of the kind who would take away what you’ve achieved. And no one will laugh. We all know you will be doing your best.”

 “...But what if my best isn’t enough?”

 “It always will be Huey. Never doubt that.” José peered up hearing the floorboards creek. Finding Donald standing in the doorway wearing a look of worry. The parrot gave a quick shake of his head. A silent message that he had a handle on the situation. Donald gave a nod of his own before sneaking off. “Feeling better?”

 “...A little. I’m still scared.” 

 “That is fine. How about we make some cookies? I think I saw your Uncle Donald heading that way before. And while we are doing that, you can show me your speech.” 

 Huey sniffed weakly. Pulling back slightly to look up at José. “Chocolate chip?”

 “Of course.”

 The duckling smiled weakly and nodded. Donald greeted the two with wide arms and a smile when they walked in. Huey beamed as he was picked up and given a sturdy hug from his other uncle as José started the process. But uncles gave Huey their undivided attention when he gave his speech. The other members of the family joined them as the cookies started to bake. Dewey and Louie keeping their ‘helpful’ comments to themselves and clapping along when Huey finished. 

 At the night of the banquet, Huey beamed as he gave a flawless speech. His family cheered the loudest.

 ________________

 “This is such a bad idea.” 

 9-year-old Louie huffed, rolling his eyes as Huey bemoaned at his flawless plan. “If you’re going to be a stick in the mud, then don’t watch.”

 “But I want to see it.”

 “Then what’s the issue?”

 “The movie is PG-13! We need parental guidance to watch.”

 “You know they won’t let us watch.” Dewey added.

 “But-”

 “You get two options here Hubert,” Louie interrupted. One hand holding up a finger to keep Huey quiet. The other holding the latest zombie movie that had just recently been release to DVD, “You either watch with your mouth shut. Or you leave and keep your mouth shut in the bed while you listen to the amazingness that is this movie from the closed doors. What’s it going to be?”

 Huey frowned. But he ‘zipped’ his bill closed and crossed his arms. Which the green-hoodied triplet took as keeping his mouth shut. With a nod, Louie popped the movie in and sat next to his brothers. All three were huddled together in the closet. Eyes glued to the small t.v. screen that was crammed in with them as well. The movie menu soon appeared and Dewey pressed play.

  Donald let out a content sigh as he relaxed further between his partners. Panchito clinging to him as Donald’s head was tucked under the rooster’s chin. While José was curled up at Donald’s side, using the duck’s chest as a pillow. That night was quiet and calm. There was a weekend ahead of them that was just filled with nothing. A relaxing time with his partners and kids. It was going to be great…

 A chorus of screams sounded from the triplet’s room. All adults were up and racing out in only a few seconds. Even hard to wake José was on full alert. Donald reached the door first, flinging it open. Fully expecting to see an intruder standing in the middle of the bedroom. Only to find Huey and Louie, sobbing as they clung to each other on the younger triplet’s bed. Dewey was waving his plastic sword  at the open closet. His entire being was shaking as wide, fearful eyes were on the open space. 

 “What is going on here?” Donald called out over the noise. 

 “There’s a zombie in the closet!” Louis answered.

 “It touched me!” Huey added.

 “I’m fighting it off!” Dewey finished. 

 “What- okay- Dewey stop swinging that around!” Panchito walked over and pulled the sword from the duckling. Collecting the blue cladded triplet as he continued to shake.

 Donald gathers the other two. Both of them desperately slings to the protection that was their uncle. José took to the closet, making sure it was empty. The parrot raised a brow, finding the t.v. that was still on and playing a movie. 

 He reached in to eject the movie and brought it out for the other two to see. “Donald.”

 The duck looked it over. Frowning, seeing the topic, letting out a slow breath. It was clear the triplets were in no condition to have a stern talking to. Plus, he was honestly too tired to worry about it at the moment. “Okay...let’s go back to our room.”

 The other two adults nodded. José turned off the lights as he was the last to leave the boy’s room. Donald rested himself back into the middle of the bed, only with more bodies pressed around him. Panchito cleverly left the bedside light on before he laid down on the bed, Dewey resting on his chest. The triplets flinched when José walked in.

 “It is just me.” The parrot assured. 

 Donald let out a sigh as he gently preened the top of each head. “You’re safe here. Nothing’s going to get you.”

 The bed was pressed further down as José laid down. Huey clamoring over into the parrot’s hold. Donald was free to wrap both arms around Louie. Three voices began to hum a familiar lullaby in hope of calming the triplets further. Even with their comforting presence, it took awhile for the three to fall asleep. It was not the way Donald wanted to start his weekend. But he should have known nothing he plans ever goes his way. Even with this hiccup, he was happy to have his family close. Falling asleep with a smile on his face.

 Donald was able to take his pent up frustration on the idiot who had allowed children to rent a horror movie. Panchito coming as back up to make sure the duck didn’t kill anyone.  

[a-pretty-nerd]

Tomura Shigaraki x AllMight!Daughter!Reader

Chapter 6

Premise:

When The League of Villians discovers that AllMight has a daughter, they are quick to snatch you up and hold you hostage. Shigaraki had a careful and thought out plan, but that was before you got there. Now you're in the mood for some not-so-healthy rebellion.

Word Count: 1,988

Trigger Warnings: None really, homelessness? 

A/N: Shit! This chapters later than I wanted it to be! Since I've been back to work my schedule has been all fucky. Usually I try to post every friday but...lol. Anyways, If you like my work, don't be afraid to interact! I love hearing from you guys! Also check out my Wattpad for my original works, and my Patreon if you wanna support me further!

Enjoy!

Chapter 5 Chapter 7 

Toshinori watched from the doorway of what he once called home. He watched men in police uniforms, suits and ties, and underground heroes, rush through the apartment. Now living exclusively on campus, the apartment felt like a grim reminder of your absence. Your mother and Xavier poured over pages upon pages of eyewitnesses and anything else that could give them a clue.

Unlike the last time the heroes found and raided The League, there were no signs of known members. Meaning they were either being more careful, or they were no longer in Musutafu. He shuffled into the room, sitting down on the couch and looking outside to large windows onto the city below. Suddenly, the phone rang.

Everyone froze. Heads swiftly turned. Was this news of your disappearance? Had you been found? Detective Tsukauchi was the first to move. Slowly picking the receiver, and placing it to his ear.

"Hello?"

"Hello, yes, who is this?" A scratchy voice asked.

"I am Detective Tsukauchi. Who am I speaking with?" His voice was firm and demanding. A dark chuckle came from the other end, sending a chill down the poor mansion spine.

"I think you know who I am, detective." Another laugh rattled from Shigaraki's chest. You watched him from the other line. Everyone sitting patiently around him as they watched him on the phone. You sat beside him, hands placed on either side of you on the couch. Anxiously waiting for your turn.

"Can I-"

"Shh." He hushed you gently, putting a finger to his lips before they broke into a wide smile.

"You see I just called because someone here has a little message for you. It's family business you see, would All Might be available to talk?" He pulled the phone away before letting loose another laugh. The room jumped and coiled in uncontrollable laughter. Like a group of kids making a prank phone call.

"Shigaraki...I swear if you lay a finger on her I'll-"

"Hold on one sec, she's right here. Y/N?" He pulled his attention away from the phone and smiled at you as he handed it over. You took it and gently pressed it to your ear.

"....Dad?"

"Y/N! Are you alright? Have they hurt you?"

"No...No I'm fine actually." Shigaraki watched you with a clever smile stretched across his face. He leaned back against the couch, resting his head in his hand. Clearly very proud of himself and the torment he caused.

"Where are you?"

"I don't know actually. It's like a repurposed office building I think. I don't know where it is, all the windows are boarded up. They brought me by car."

"By car?”

"Yeah, I don't really know what they're up to. I mean, I do, I just... I don't know they do things weird." Shigaraki's smile slowly started to fade as you critiqued. When you looked up and saw his expression, you felt compelled to respond. "What? You do." You told him. He shrugged you off.

"You sound...alright." Your father said, confused and concerned.

"I guess I am relatively okay. They feed me and clothe me and no ones been really that bad to me yet so...I'm okay I guess."

"She's lying!" You heard a voice chirp from the other line. Your stomach turned. Xavier was there?

"Y/N! Y/N tell us where you are!" Your mother demanded as she wrenched the phone away from your father. Her voice was jarring and rough. You tensed up.

"I...I don't know where I am. I told him it’s like an old office building I-"

"Can you tell us anything else? What do you remember from the car ride?" She was frantic now.

"Nothing. I had a bag over my head the whole time. This place has some electricity and some running water but it’s not to the whole building? It's old... it's been years since anyone has been here-"

"Anything else!?" She cried. You paused.

"No...I...I'm fine otherwise." Shigaraki made a 'speed it up' motion with his hand. "I...I have a message for Detective Tsukauchi, could you put him back on?"

"Let me talk to her!" Xavier begged.

"I don't have much time, please, Detective-"

"Y/N! Baby!" You cringed at the sound of your boyfriend’s panicked voice.

"Hey, babe. I'm fine." You tried to brush him off.

"How are you feeling?" He asked.

"I'm alright, I guess. A little tired. Scared." You had to remember the last part.

"I can't imagine what you're going through without your meds."

"Oh. Yeah. My meds. I'm losing my mind." You said in a flat, sarcastic tone. It made the others snicker.

"Just remember your breathing exercises we did, okay? Do them with me now, okay? You ready?"

"Yeah-uh-"

"One, two, three, in.........out. Okay? One, two, three IN! . . . . . . . . OUT! One, two, three, in . . . . . . OUT! Okay? Do them with me. Remember to align your chakras!" He went on like this for a solid minute. Unable to contain yourself, you covered your mouth with your hand and held the speaker out so the whole room could laugh at him. Even Shigaraki, who turned away to laugh joined in on the fun. "Y/N?"

"Yeah?" You smiled through.

"We're coming to get you, alright? Just hang tight a little longer."

"Uhuh."

"Don't worry, okay?"

"Okay."

"I love you, sugar muffin."

"Right. So Detective Tsukauchi."

"Okay, yes, here he is...I love you!"

"Love you too." You chuckled, your hand playing with the flesh between your brow as you laughed at him.

"Y/N." Finally.

"I just, have a message from the villains." You told him with an awkward smile.

"Go ahead." You looked up at your captor.

"They say if All Might doesn't come forward soon, they won't be giving me back." You watched his smile widen. "They want the world to know the Heroes' failures. It's either me or the truth. Your choice." And with that, you hung up the phone. The room fell into a satisfied and relaxed state. A sense of victory went around the room as smiles and giggles greeted you. 

"Who the hell was that last guy!?" Toga shouted as she laughed.

"Oh, that was Xavier, my boyfriend."

"Ooh! Boyfriend! How Sweet!-Gross!" Twice added.

"You've never mentioned a partner before, Y/N." Mr. Compresss added. You shrugged.

"I guess I forgot. Being kidnapped and all."

"You've been pretty forgetful latley haven't you? First your meds, now this. Anything else you care to share with us?" Dabi questioned.

"Not that I can think of. I guess sometimes I forget I should be scared nowadays." You paused before turning to look back at Shigaraki who wore a satisfied grin as his eyes wandered around the floor. Clearly dissociating. “Shigaraki?” 

"Hm?"

"...what happens to me, if they don't comply?"

"They will."

"Are you going to kill me?" He rolled his eyes.

"No. I'm not going to kill you. Especially now with that quirk of yours."

"But-"

"Are you really questioning why I'm not going to kill you?" He took the phone in his hand and dusted the object. He stood and started walking out to another room.

"I just...aren’t I a pain in the ass to keep around?" You asked the room. A few answered with a nod, others stayed silent.

"Come on. I wanna show you something." You stood and followed him down the hallway. You followed him through the building, through the parts that were inhabitable and rotting. He took you up a few flights, up to the very top just before the roof. There was a large room filled with old desks, chairs, computers, etc. He stopped in front of a large window that overlooked the city. "Come here." You stood beside him and looked out the window at the people walking around. You saw an old alleyway that housed a few homeless people as they went about their day. A few passers-by ignoring them and rushing past. "What do you see?"

"A group of homeless people. Why?"

"And what about him?" You watched as a man, well dressed and well-kept walked down the street. He starred at a man who begged him for money, then laughed in his face before walking away.

"Some asshole." You noted. He smiled.

"The world is littered with them. And it’s the heroes that encourage it, they demand it. They created a world where we steal and rob and ignore each other assuming someone else will take care of it. Heroes created a society that requires you to assimilate, to obey. If not, you're thrown away like trash." He grumbled as he watched the homeless man. 

"Is that...what happened to you?" You asked. He didn't answer. "What about her?" You watched as a woman passing through stopped to give the homeless man some change.

"What? You think she deserves a pat on the back for the bare minimum?" He snarled.

"Huh?"

"What good does that one act do, huh!? He'll have a meal and live to see another miserable day. She solved a minor problem, she's not doing any real good. And she doesn't deserve anything for it."

"But-"

"It doesn't matter unless you do something to change the bigger picture. She can give all the change she wants, take him in for all I care. But she only helps one person! She won't do any real good unless she demands change for them! Unless she actively works to make sure people like him don't end up like that!" You took a few steps back as he yelled.

"Alright! You don't have to yell at me!" You barked, the tension in the room coming to a climax when your quirk pulled a few chairs and tables closer to you. Making a horrible screeching sound as it did. "I understand." You finally spoke when the two of you had calmed down.

"If All Might doesn't come forward and tell the truth, you'll be working with us."

"What? Why? My quirk is dangerous and volatile. I have no control, I'd be practically useless."

"That's why your training starts today."

"Training?"

"What? You wanna be a slave to your quirk forever? Because if you wanna go back on your meds, you can. But I doubt you want to keep living in fear of yourself." You thought for a second before answering.

"I...I don't know..." He slowly started to approach you.

"You don't have to be afraid anymore. I can help you."

"How? You hardly have control of your own emotions as it is. You think you could help teach me to control mine?" You chuckled.

"If my research is right, this isn't about control, it’s about distribution."

"Distribution..."

"If you could learn to express your emotions properly. Let yourself be free from the fear of your own quirk, you could learn to repurpose that energy, and gain anatomy."

"Those disgusting bastards!" Xavier growled under his breath as his nails dug into the sleeve of his button-up. He rattled with rage in the corner as others worked. Your mother paced back and forth, spewing theory after theory.

"She sounded...fine..." Toshinori said in disbelief.

"Clearly she's traumatized beyond repair!" Your mother declared.

"Everyone." Another detective called. The room fell silent. "I think you should hear this." Pressing play, the sound of your recorded voice played out.

"In......OUT! One, two, three, IN.........out." From the other line, the sound of soft snickering and laughter could be heard. Your laughs being the loudest.

"Is she, laughing?" Your father asked.

"She's laughing...with them," Xavier observed.

"What!? Laughing? A reflex! She's disturbed! She's hysterical!" Your mother shouted.

"They're turning her," Xavier said softly. "They're corrupting her...without her meds she's left defenseless and scared. They're taking advantage of her good nature!"

"We got it." Detective Tsukauchi declared.

"Got what?"

"Well, it was difficult considering it was a prepaid wireless phone but...We've got her location."

Taglist: 

@craftybean13 @babayaga67 @imjustverable

@bat-eclecticwolfbouquet-love

@kamenoyaki @hentaiqween101 @skzero-99

[shimmeringclouds]

Chapter 1

Akatsuka village was a quiet place.

Not much ever happened, and whenever something did, it wouldn't stick to your mind, eventually fading from memory, and the still silence of the village would take a hold of your every day life once more.

Despite living in Akatsuka for a good few years now, you had a habit of keeping to yourself. You rarely ever found yourself willingly conversing with the other townsfolk living in the houses around you. You always hoped it didn't come off as rude — you just lacked decent social skills, they could understand that, right?

On top of that, the village had always felt.. off to you. There was always this pressurising feeling of someone watching you at all times, peering over your shoulder and burning holes into your back. It was unnerving and uncomfortable, and the worst part was, there was never anyone there.

However, it wasn't like you could just up and leave the Akashika District so easily. It required time and money, and you only had one of those. A part of you wondered if you regretted moving all that time ago, but in the end, you couldn't muster the energy to be so bothered anymore. All in all, you had achieved the quiet and easy-going countryside life you had been needing, and that was all that mattered to you.

Sitting in your fenced off garden, basking in the summer's heat, you began wondering if your life was boring. If it was too simple. If you had sheltered yourself too much. You didn't really have any friends, as sad as it was. They had all slowly fallen out of touch with you once you had moved, and although you had tried convincing them to come down for a visit — or even suggesting that you visiting them — they all happened to be busy. Every time, without fail.

Then maybe, you began to wonder, it was you who was boring. You recalled how plain your life had been, as a toddler to a teen, and now as an adult. You didn't have any interesting stories to share. You didn't have any personal traits that were particularly intriguing or quirky. You were just... normal. Probably a bit too normal.

With a sigh, you cast your sullen gaze towards the sky. It was a single block of blue, but it looked so pretty. It stretched far beyond the horizon, free of clouds and scattered with the occasional soaring bird. The flutter of a white butterfly caught your eye, and you watched the muted coloured insect traverse through your garden, finally landing on a bush of blush pink camellias you had been caring for over the past year or so.

Your mind fell silent, only for it to have a sudden craving for watermelon. You tilted your head curiously, trying to remember if you had any left or not. Standing up, you stretched your arms above your head, lazily readjusting your t-shirt that had ridden up your stomach with the movement before heading towards your kitchen, scouring your table tops and refrigerator for the sweet fruit. To your dismay, there was none left. Which only meant one thing...

"I have to go outside today..." you whined to yourself. Well, you didn't have to. It wasn't like you had to get the watermelon. No, you didn't have to, but you really wanted to eat some under the sun, like you did every summer. You needed to satiate your craving for watermelon.

And so you set about your home, reluctantly attempting to sort out your hair and change your clothes. You were too lazy, though, and ended up swapping out your joggers you were lounging in to a pair of shorts, not wanting to melt on the way to the store, tucking your t-shirt into the hem of the bottoms and messily scrunching your hair up into a bun.

You twirled a few loose strands around your fingers, debating whether you should put more effort into your hairdo, but ultimately deciding there wasn't any point since you would just be hiding away again for the rest of the weekend. No one paid attention to you, anyway.

Grabbing your small purse and pushing it into your back pocket along with your phone, you slipped on a pair of gladiator sandals, securing the intricate straps around your ankles and feet before setting off.

The heat seemed to be far more intense than before, pushing the humid air into your face and causing a cool sweat to suddenly break out over your skin. You grimaced at your clammy hands, discreetly brushing them against the denim of your shorts.

As you walked, you threw your gaze to your surroundings, not finding anything new amongst the same square houses and the same empty shops, the same trio of cats laying in the same position in front of someone's doorway, their eyes watching you as they always did as you trotted past them. It was the same routine, as usual.

The cool air that wafted over you as you stepped through the doors of the supermarket gave you a sense of relief from the roasting warmth. You closed your eyes for a moment, relishing in the soft blow of air before finally moving inside, peering through the empty aisle in search of the perfect watermelon.

Soft music echoed distantly throughout the store, almost silent under the pitter of your footsteps against the tiled ground. You stood still for a moment, straining your ears to try and catch the words that were being sung, but it was much too quiet and muffled, a mix of many different voices merging together to a nursery-like tune. It was odd; they never played music in the store before.

As you continued onward, you pushed the urge to pick up miscellaneous objects and snacks down and away from your mind, even if you had the feeling you were forgetting something. You only came for watermelon. Should you get distracted now, you'd end up with a whole basket full of groceries that you probably didn't need. You crossed your arms over your chest, tucking your hands away into the crooks of your elbows so as not to feel any more tempted.

Eventually, you stumbled upon the correct aisle, tracing along the variety of in-season fruit before they landed on the one you were looking for at the far end of the aisle. The small smile that had graced your lips, however, dropped in an instant at the sight of another person gazing at your desired fruit, a look of confusion lacing your furrowed brows. You had never seen another person shopping here before.

It was a man, donned in a fern green yukata, his brown hair neatly combed to one side as his narrowed eyes scrutinised the two remaining watermelons, his lips upturned into a frown as he held the two heavy fruits in his hands. He hadn't noticed your presence, it had seemed, and you reluctantly began edging your way towards him.

You could feel your cheeks slowly begin to heat up the closer you got, your hands becoming clammier as you realised that you would have to speak to this stranger. Social interaction was never your forte, and you became afraid that your words would fall out of your mouth like running water, gushing and incoherent. But your mind was set on getting the large, jaded fruit, and your feet wouldn't stop moving until you were stood right beside him.

At long last, the man caught the movement at his side from the corner of his eyes, glancing over and jolting in shock at your sudden appearance. His rounded face flushed a pretty pink, tracing over the tips of his ears at the sight of you, and you couldn't control the added heat to your own skin.

"Excuse me..." you spoke softly, averting your gaze from his own smaller pupils to the fruit in his hands. You quickly noted how he had a hold of the last two melons, before continuing to say: "I-I'm sorry to bother you, but could I have one of those?"

Deep down, you felt awful, as if you were stealing something from this poor and unsuspecting man. What if he wanted both of them? You would just have to go home empty handed, remembering how you had bothered somebody for no reason. Maybe you would grab a tub of ice-cream on the way, on second thought, for some comfort food.

The man's mouth flailed open and closed, minute squeaks of words escaping him before he cleared his throat, taking a deep breath.

"OF COURSE!" The sudden loudness of his voice caused the both of you to flinch, his face deepening in colour in embarrassment. "I mean — o-of course! You can have one!" He swiftly pushed the melon in his left hand towards you, a shaky smile on his lips as his hand trembled under the weight of the fruit.

"Th-This one is much sweeter than the other, ha ha."

You raised a brow, staring at the two green misshaped ovals and wondered how he knew that just by looking. You tilted your head, hesitantly brushing your fingers against the melon. "Are you sure? I don't mind taking the other one."

"No no! It's perfectly fine! I-I prefer the more watery ones, anyway..."

That was a blatant lie, but you took the melon from him, saving the both of you from an even more awkward conversation. With a timid smile, you bowed politely, thanking him.

"N-No worries! I — well, uh — goodbye!" The man immediately scurried off, clutching the melon securely to his chest as he rounded the corner, disappearing from your sight. You wondered if you had scared him off, somehow. You could understand, although, you would be lying if you said you didn't feel a twinge of disappointment bubble in your chest. You could have made a friend today if you hadn't made the atmosphere so stiff.

You dejectedly dragged your feet through the shop, reaching the till and finding the man to have already left. You lowered your gaze to your feet as you handed your money over to the sleepy looking cashier, carrying the watermelon in your arms. Standing in front of the empty store entrance, you stared at the ground in brief silence, an unhappy frown making its way onto your face.

The walk home was gloomy, as if grey clouds were hanging over your head despite the sun beaming vehemently down onto your skin. You were starting to regret going out to buy the watermelon. Maybe it would have been better if you had just stayed home and ignored the craving. Maybe then you wouldn't have had to ruin someone's day. That's what you did, right?

Silence echoed throughout the barren streets louder than ever before, pulling you deeper into your dampened thoughts and drowning in the sudden sense of guilt that had welled inside of you, gluing itself to your heart like a hardened stone. It seemed that no matter how much you walked, you couldn't escape that voice in the forefront of your mind, whispering into your ear and reminding how much of a failure you were, greeting you as an old friend as you re-entered your home.

You left the watermelon on your kitchen table, and as you walked out, the glint of sunlight bouncing off of metal and into your eyes made you wince. Glancing over, you saw that it was only the metal of your large kitchen knife, displayed on your far countertop for whenever you would need it next. The yellow light it reflected burned into your eyes dangerously, shimmering and beckoning you closer.

Your sullen gaze merely sent it a flat and unimpressed glare before you turned away with a sigh. The games your mind liked to play with you weren't any fun in the slightest. Suddenly, you didn't feel like eating the watermelon anymore.

Falling asleep sounded much more appealing to you. Trudging through the empty hallways of your home, you collapsed onto your cool bed, curling into yourself with baited breath, the light breeze sifting through your opened window cradling you in its hold as you squeezed your eyes shut.

In that moment, all you wanted to do was sleep forever, and the wind encouraged you as you slowly fell into a restless slumber.

[andrastyn]

[ tw: death, medical ]

A lone night elf ran her fingertips over the cloth covering a still form in the medic bay, her eyes closed. Her brow furrowed, for a moment, but she remained silent.

A soldier. He’d been brought in just two hours before, suffering from multiple sources of trauma after a sudden attack by a few, straggling PMC members. The rest of his squad had made it out, at least – him? He’d required an evacuation. His pulse had been thready, weak, slow, when the medics got to him. In the time it took them to get him from the point of attack to the med bay, he’d lost it, and they’d started resuscitation efforts.

When he’d arrived, Andrastyn’s voice had called clearly across the bay. “I want bilateral large-bore IVs if they’re not already in place. Stoneheart will have airway, I’ll take compressions and meds, and Winterbreeze will take care of hemorrhage control and base healing…”

The orders had rattled off her tongue immediately, without thought. She’d examined him when he came in. “His pupils are already starting to fix, a little – he’s got this puncture wound to the neck, here, and his arm…”

His left arm had been splinted, angled in a way that wasn’t natural. Clearly unable to be reset in the field. “… finger thoracostomy, left side, for a pneumo-hemo,” one of the field medics continued. “He was down for about fifteen minutes.” Andrastyn nodded, then looked over her shoulder. “One unit whole blood, one plasma, let’s get this guy rolling,” she’d said. “Tillmore, swap with me. Fifteen, sixteen, seventeen, eighteen, nineteen, twenty - go!”

Fifteen minutes. Shit. That was enough to kill neurological activity, but his arrest was witnessed. Maybe he had a chance. Please, she prayed, let him have a chance.

She stepped back, allowing the other medic to take over compressions. The soldier’s chest had already been near gelatin by the time she’d touched him. They’d done well. “Good compressions, good depth,” she called, circling the patient to examine his airway. He’d been intubated. Good.

“We have an ID on him?” Andrastyn heard. “Uh – one sec,” came the response. “Right here. Hawford, Jordan. Identification tag number, five-three-oh-two…” The numbers rattled off, and one of the field medics scribbled it down diligently.

“Pulse and rhythm check.” Andi looked to the man before her, laid out naked and with so many tubes and lines running in and out that it would unsettle any new medic. His eyes remained half-open, unmoving, unaware of the circumstances. Tillmore paused, and Andrastyn pursed her lips.

She held a bloodied hand over his form, and everything stopped for a blink. Nothing. No Life. She focused on his heart – any cardiac motion, anything at all, would be the sign she needed…

… and it never came.

She took a breath in, looking up. He’d been here for less than twenty minutes, in total. Fifteen minutes prior of downtime, no cardiac motion, no pulse, no respirations. Pupils fixed and dilated to light. “Stop compressions,” Andi announced, her tone resigned.

“Time of death: 2130.”

She swallowed and watched the team step back. The wound where the thoracostomy had been performed still dripped blood. The eyes that never closed stared blankly upwards, and Andi parted the eyelids to see a little better. They were already beginning to cloud over, and the pallor of death had begun to set in.

“Good job, everyone.”

One medic sighed and stepped away. “Poor guy,” she’d muttered. She was one of the newer additions to the team – experienced, but empathetic. She’d be affected by this, no doubt. Andi made a note to check on her later.

The crew dispersed, and she nodded. “Alright. Take the ID, get me a body bag. We’ll put his name on the list to notify next of kin. For now, I’m taking him for immediate autopsy for a COD,” she grunted to a nearby private.

“Roger, doc.”

He walked away, and Andi looked back to the corpse that lay before her. “I’m sorry this happened to you,” she whispered. “… You can’t be more than twenty-five.”

She let out a heavy sigh, that fog of grief that always rolled in after a hard CPR settling over her. “Fuck,” she whispered, and stripped off her gloves, walking to her desk to begin the trauma packet and documentation.

No matter how long she’d done it, medicine was ugly. It was hard. It made one feel hollow, if you weren’t careful. She tried not to let it sink in. It couldn’t – not now. Not when her men needed her.

“Fuck.”

[hexalianrebel-blackfeathers]

Hot Foot

 Panda’s Notes: I wrote this for the exclusive and express purpose of making @eldritchtickles suffer. So I hope he likes hates it. >w<

Find it on Ao3!

Zagreus was feeling… well, something; he wasn’t sure what to call it. He swirled his fingers slowly in his scrying pool as he narrowed his eyes.

It might have started with Hypnos… Zagreus flinched a bit as the water shimmered to remind him of his own memories.

--------

“Wake up!” Zagreus had said sharply upon approaching the sleeping attendant, quickly moving his hands to scribble on Hypnos’ bare soles.

Hypnos jolted with a squeak, kicking Zagreus’ shoulder and knocking him to the floor. “Oops.” He murmured, not apologetic in the slightest as he chuckled. He let his clipboard and quill hover as he leaned to offer the godling a hand. “You’re back early, Tickles.” He smirked, heaving his brother to his feet as he glanced at his parchment. “Ah, the Wretched Sneak got you this time, huh? You never were good at dodging pokes, you know.” He taunted, quickly lifting Zagreus’ arm to prod his ribs.

“As if you’re any better!” Zagreus argued with a slight smile, covering his side and pulling his arm back. “Those lash marks on your ankles are cute.”

“Huh?!” Hypnos flinched, a gold blush lighting his cheeks as he glanced at his feet. There wasn’t anything there, except for Zagreus’ nails zipping up his soles again before catching both of his ankles. He traced lines around Hypnos’ ankles, seeming to follow a path that had been covered over.

“Heh, I’ll be sure to ask Meg if she knows how much you like feathers on your toes.” Zagreus taunted, about to walk away when Hypnos casually slipped an arm around him.

“Don’t think that just because your feet aren’t ticklish, I can’t get you back.” Hypnos smirked, wiggling his fingers under Zagreus’ chin.

-------

Zagreus jumped slightly, having practically felt the brush of Hypnos’ fingers on his neck as he remembered that conversation. He huffed as he splashed the water to silence it. He didn’t feel any closer to labelling the thoughts running through his head though. He peered hesitantly into the pool again, and the water rippled oddly.

------- 

Orpheus plucked quiet little notes, a rare smile gracing his face as he seemed to look for a rhythm of some kind.

“Tell me, mate,” Zagreus said gently, leaning on the arm of the musician’s chair. “How often do you tune a lyre anyway?”

“As often as you must, my friend.” He shrugged, smiling a bit more as the prince rolled his eyes. “Or as often as you use it. I believe I tuned mine…perhaps every other day when we were performing the most. These days, I’ve come to notice that this lyre your father gave me doesn’t need much tuning; although, I admit I can’t help the urge to adjust the strings in occasion—" Orpheus had glanced up and around, finding Zagreus seated at his feet. “Am I rambling?”

Zagreus chuckled, resting his chin on his hand as his elbow balanced on his knee. “Yes. It’s nice.” He smirked. “You seem so relaxed when you speak freely.”

Orpheus shook his head, crossing one leg onto his opposite knee as he continued to play. “You’re always so kind, my prince. Although now that I’ve given it some thought, why do you ask about tuning? Have you acquired a lyre of your own?”

“Ah, I admit I’ve certainly considered it, but I asked about instrument tuning because a certain someone needs some tuning up.” Zagreus grinned a bit deviously when Orpheus didn’t seem to get it, reaching to pull the musician’s foot into his lap.

“I’m not sure that I—Ah!” Orpheus’ fingers tripped on a foul note as the prince’s knuckles dragged up his sole.

“Was I too subtle for you this time, Orpheus?” He taunted, drawing swirling shapes with his nails. “Or have you not learned to keep your wits about you yet?”

Orpheus cringed, covering his mouth as snickers rattled his frame and as his free hand attempted to find its place on the lyre.

Zagreus chuckled, shaking his head and scribbling his fingers. “See, you’re trying to play while I’m doing this; how am I to take that except as a challenge?” He sneered, watching Orpheus crumble into giggles as he kept a tight grip on his ankle. The prince hummed to himself, feigning an innocent grin as he reached up over his head. Orpheus had barely gotten his bearings when Zagreus presented the Harpy Feather Duster. He yelped softly with a chuckle as the blue plumes were shoved under his chin.

“As promised, mate.” Zagreus joked, his smirk returning. “But if you kick me, you die.”

Orpheus had been pretty unconvinced by his bluff, his leg flailing a bit when the feathers flicked along his sole.

“I’d call it a pity that you’ve yet to sing for us, Orpheus; but at the moment, I admit this is my favorite song of yours.”

-------

Zagreus found himself chuckling. It was still his favorite song, and Orpheus performed it well.

This feeling… What was it? Zagreus stared into the scrying pool, his eyes widening before he stepped back and covered his face.

Actually, maybe it was better he didn’t think about this anymore at all for the rest of time.

The water rippled. His memories called to him. Zagreus sealed his fate with a glance.

-------

Hades was “mad” at Zagreus, which was different from how he was when he was just normal mad. Zagreus had approached his father’s desk with a pair of leather sandals dangling from their broken strings between his fingers; and when Hades looked down at him, the look in his eyes almost seemed like…relief? The boy was puzzled for a moment until his father scooped him up and announced that court was adjourned for now.

“I’m sorry, Father.” The prince murmured as he was carried to his bedroom, earning a soft grunt that he couldn’t decipher. He was set down on his blue bedsheets, and his father seemed careful to let his legs dangle over the side.

Hades simply held out his hand, and Zagreus handed over the sandals to be inspected. At a glance, the soles seemed fine, but the insides were burned black; and the strings that Zagreus always struggled to tie around his ankles had several points where they’d been burned through and hastily tied back together. It was a wonder he’d been able to attempt tying them, let alone struggle with it.

“How many is that now?” Hades asked with a sigh, kneeling beside his son’s bed. “Do you remember?”

Zagreus nodded quickly, and Hades watched him count on his fingers. “Five…?” He said with all the confidence of a pair of burned sandals.

Hades chuckled, but he nodded. “Indeed. Five in half as many months. I won’t be requesting any more pairs if you’re just going to burn them all.”

Zagreus pouted, kicking his feet softly. “I don’t do it on purpose, Father…”

“I’m aware.” Hades hummed, moving his hands to lift Zagreus’ feet by their heels. “You get this from me, I’m afraid, but controlling it requires managing your emotions.”

Zagreus tipped his head, seeming to process that statement.

“You have to be calm, Zagreus.”

“I’m calm!” The child insisted, smiling brightly and bouncing a bit. His soles glowed a bit brighter, and Hades quirked an eyebrow as he felt the heat grow more intense. “…R-Right?”

Hades shook his head, tapping his son’s soles with his fingertips. “I don’t think so. What are you thinking about?”

“Um… I’m thinking about when I was playing with Than and Hypnos, and then Meg came to play even though she hasn’t in a long time, and we were running on the balcony, and that’s when the strings…” He blinked as he looked down; his feet were blazing orange, and red heat radiated up his ankles. “Oh… I see!”

“Do you?” Hades couldn’t seem to resist a smile. “I don’t think you’ve got it yet. What else were you thinking about?”

Zagreus tapped his chin, but he took a breath to steady himself. “I was thinking about Mother and you.” His feet cooled just slightly, and his toes flexed a bit as he watched them curiously. “Mother Nyx was away crafting the night and you…” He seemed to hesitate, almost looking for another thought.

Hades watched him, letting his thumbs rest on the tops of his feet as he found himself understanding. The heat was indeed fading. “You thought of me…” He sighed, moving his fingers slowly. “Because I was busy?”

“Um…maybe.” Zagreus murmured even though he was nodding, and he squirmed a little as he put a hand over his face to hide it. A giggle slipped out of his mouth, and a bit of heat reignited.

“Calm, Zagreus.” Hades tried not to smile, his fingers flexing purposefully. “Control.”

“I’m calm.” The boy insisted again, hardly any more convincing with the giggles falling out of him. “I’m ca—Stop tickling me!” He laughed, hiding his face again, but his reactions grew measured whenever the heat increased.

“I’m not doing anything, boy.”

“Liar…”

Hades paused, glancing up slowly; and Zagreus’s soles blazed brightly again as he covered his mouth. “You would accuse me of lying, boy?”

Zagreus squealed and tried to scramble backwards, only to get caught by one of his ankles and lifted upside down over his father’s shoulder. His hands flailed as Hades’ fingers dug softly into his ribcage, and he laughed brightly and tried to kick.

Hades returned to work with Zagreus zipping past to find his friends again. Small sparks followed after his small footsteps as he laughed excitedly. The burns on Hades’ fingertips were minor, and they were healed within the first hour after court reconvened.

 --------

Zagreus groaned heavily into his pillow, crossing his legs under himself as he sat on the bed.

He was jealous. A little bit at least. Maybe he was nostalgic. He was definitely wishing he could think about something else.

“Prince?”

Zagreus nearly jumped out of his skin when someone’s hand rested on his head. Achilles flinched away from him with a chuckle, setting his spear against the wall.

“Achilles?”

“Are you alright, lad? You seem troubled. We can postpone the exercises you wanted if you need to talk.”

“Ah, no.” Zagreus insisted, standing up suddenly and dropping the pillow on the bed. “I, uh… Sorry, sir. Please, let’s get started; I’ll even give you the first shot this time.”

Achilles watched the prince run out to the balcony, chuckling softly as he followed a moment later.

 “You seem awfully unbalanced today, lad…” Achilles called as Zagreus was looking over his weapons. “Are you sure you want to do this?”

“I assure you I’m quite certain, sir.” The prince said firmly, taking hold of Varatha and spinning it between his hands. “A knock or two in the head would do me good, so…” He paused as he heard an unfamiliar clatter, spinning around to see Achilles apparently wincing as he flexed Malphon’s fingers over his own. “Sir, what are you—?”

“Ah, well, I figured it’s about time I employ other strategies, prince.” The shade grinned, turning his wrists and getting a feel for the weight of the gauntlets. “You’ve grown so skilled since you were young; I fear you’ve seen all that I’m capable of with my spear.”

“I highly doubt that sir; although, I admit I wouldn’t have thought you’d be interested in Malphon.”

“Perhaps I’ll surprise you yet then; hand-to-hand combat and wrestling were quite popular in Greece when I was your age. Or, when I was young, I should say. Now then, I believe you offered to allow me the first strike.”

Zagreus chuckled and shook his head, holding Varatha defensively as Achilles lunged toward him. A sharp punch in the chest stung quite a bit more than he’d expected, stunning him enough that Achilles got ahold of his spear to start a grapple.

Zagreus adjusted his hold, standing his ground and pushing back hard. “Alright, I may have miscalculated. You still have quite a bit of fight for someone who claims to have lost his taste for war.”

Achilles laughed a bit, adjusting his stance to pull Zagreus’ spear. He twisted at the waist, pulling Zagreus across his front leg and wrenching Varatha out of his hands as he fell. “You mustn’t taunt me if you can’t even keep your stance, lad. I hardly regret embarrassing you after a performance like that.”

Zagreus cringed as he lifted himself up. “Embarrassed? I’ve been knocked over befo—Ack!” He had extended a hand, attempting to call Varatha from where Achilles had thrown it, but before the weapon could respond, Zagreus was flinching away from a jab at his waist. “What are you doing?”

“Ah, heh, apologies lad. Consider this… For old times’ sake, perhaps. I like to think I owe you for that arrow you shot at my back a few weeks ago. And more accurately…” Achilles grinned, stepping closer to him again and grabbing at his wrists to attempt to shove him down. “You read like an open book.”

“I-I—You… Sir, wait!” Zagreus cried out, unable to keep from smiling until Achilles swept his legs out from under him.

Malphon’s claws dug deep into his sides as Achilles perched himself on his legs, and he quickly found himself regretting the minutes he spent tormenting Orpheus with them. Okay, that wasn’t true, but his conscience was certainly making an argument for it. The Fates had curious ways indeed.

Zagreus clutched at Achilles’ arm, laughing helplessly and writhing as those fingers crawled up and down his stomach.

The shade chuckled, pressing his palms against his student’s sides. “Honestly, lad, you could at least pretend to put up a better fight. Are you sure there’s nothing you need to talk about?”

“It isn’t important!” Zagreus insisted through giggles, resting an arm over his face.

That didn’t mean it was nothing though. Achilles rolled his eyes and shook his head. “Well, if you’re sure. While I have you though…” He hummed, pressing one hand to the stone under them as he turned. He glanced curiously over the prince’s feet, the heat radiating off of them seeming to fluctuate as he settled himself. “You mentioned once that you couldn’t feel the new rug you bought for your room, didn’t you?”

Zagreus blushed a bit at the memory and chuckled. “Yes, hardly a change at all. I could tell the difference by pressure, but I was at least hoping the texture w—Hey!” His voice had escaped as a squeak when one of Malphon’s metal digits pressed firmly into his sole and zipped up toward his toes.

“You felt that, I take it?” Achilles laughed a bit, hooking his fingers into both of his feet and raking them up and down. Zagreus broke immediately, laughing loudly and trying to reach his back with one hand.

“I’m afraid you’re a bit too tall for that one these days, lad.” Achilles taunted when the prince just barely hooked his robes, dragging his fingers up through the prince’s toes until he was squealing.

“I yield; I yield, sir, please!” Zagreus cried out, trying to squirm with a bit more earnest.

Achilles chuckled softly and paused, pushing himself up to stand over him. “I will admit that was quite a bit of fun. It would seem these are more effective as weapons than I originally thought.”

He offered a hand, and Zagreus rolled his eyes and reached to take it, only to scald his hand on the heated metal gauntlets. “Ouch…” He hissed, yanking his hand back and looking it over.

Achilles couldn’t help laughing, removing one gauntlet to offer his bare hand and patting his shoulder before going to place Malphon in its spot. “Apologies, prince. Now, then… Perhaps you’d be interested in more traditional training?”

Zagreus rested his hands on his hips. “Well, sir, that depends.” He reached out, calling Varatha into his hand. “How quickly can you arm yourself?”

The shade smirked, taking a stance and leading his opponent in a short circle. “Energetic as always…”

“As always, indeed. …And thank you, sir.”